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| Hiking | 12.44 Miles |
3,471 AEG |
| | Hiking | 12.44 Miles | 8 Hrs 29 Mns | | 1.57 mph |
| 3,471 ft AEG | 35 Mns Break | | | |
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| no partners | | Day 2 (Galiuro Trip)
I was hoping for an easy hike in the sense that I’d be able to cruise on autopilot while following a trail for most of the way, but I got anything but that… the only thing easy about this one was the drive to the TH.
The trail was very decent for the first couple of miles, but around 1.5 miles in, I had a brief scare as I heard howling in the distance that definitely seemed to be headed my way / directed toward me. Fortunately, there were some low trees right by the trail, and I climbed up a few branches and then anxiously waited. No sooner did I get situated in the tree than three howling dogs emerged. One was a golden color and looked like a lab, and the other two looked like border collies or something similar; though I’m not particularly good when it comes to guessing dog breeds. These dogs apparently had some very good training as scout/hunt dogs cuz the moment they saw me, they looked extremely disappointment, stopped howling altogether, and took off running back in the direction they’d come from.
Shortly after the dog encounter, the trail crossed a couple of creeks that were flowing with water and had some beautiful pools and small waterfalls, and shortly after that, [about where the trail enters a more wooded area and a sign indicates 2.0 miles to Kennedy Peak], it all went to hell…
The trail was badly overgrown at best and nonexistent at worst… add several inches of snow to the mix and it was a route-finding nightmare, even with GPS. After inadvertently ending up on an animal trail, [and then having to scramble up a snowy cliffy area to get back on track], I’d about had it and resolved to simply bushwhack up to the peak the next time I lost the trail, [which didn’t take very long!].
The bushwhack [or more accurately, ‘snow-whack’…] started off well. The slope I’d opted for was extremely steep, but with almost 1’ of snow AND some well-rooted, non-thorny vegetation, I was able to pull myself slowly up the slope without too much difficulty. However, after reaching a ridge, [at which point my path shifted from SE to almost due South, putting me on the North face], things started to go sour. I was drenched to the bone from the knees down, and the temperature seemed to plummet at least 5 degrees the moment I shifted my path up the shady North face. My feet started to get cold REALLY fast. I quickly assessed the situation. The options were: a) turning back; b) continuing toward the peak on the path I was planning; c) opt for the shortest & fastest route possible up to the ridgeline, which no doubt was warm and sunny. Given my extreme weakness when it comes to negotiating loose/slippery footing, a) was out of the question, and given just how cold my toes were getting, b), [the long route up], was equally unappealing. c) was most ideal, however, the crag-like boulders that would need to be negotiated toward the top definitely had the potential to cause trouble. Contouring was not an option due to some very thick patches of catclaw-like vegetation, but I spotted a large gulley between the crags with a clear line of sight to the top and headed for it. From a distance, the most difficult part looked to be getting up ‘onto’ the based of the gulley, and this definitely proved to be the case.
When I finally reached the base of the gulley, my heart sank and I had to make an effort to stay calm. Not only was it a solid Class 4 climb up into the gulley, my hands were so cold by this point that I could barely feel my fingers. Before attempting the climb, I had to pause and touch my hands to my stomach for a minute or so just to regain enough feeling to pull off the climb. To say I felt a little panicked would be an understatement. The exposure was moderate, and, [while it would’ve been very unlikely for a fall to have resulted in death or even broken bones thanks to all of the snow], the steepness of the slope meant that I’d probably be going for one hell of an elevator ride down if I were to miss. With the help of a small but sturdy tree that was well rooted amongst up the boulders that I needed to climb to get into the gulley, I managed to pull of the precarious climb.
The next order of business was retrieving my pack and trekking poles, while were insecurely balanced on a snow-covered boulder one level below me. There was absolutely nothing to grab onto while reaching downward for my belongings. I managed to get my poles, but could not reach my pack without really starting to slip down toward the edge. Very fortunately, my pack was situated with the straps facing toward me, allowing me to take both trekking poles and carefully slip them through a strap. Once through, I angled the poles upward and then threw my entire body weight back & upward, crashing in to the soft snow behind me. It wasn’t the prettiest or most ideal maneuver but it got the job done; mission accomplished by the skin of my teeth!
By now my hands were so cold they were starting to hurt. A couple more Class 3 climbs were needed to get out of the gulley and up onto the ridge; but, [after several stops to bury my hands against my stomach and regain some feeling], the remaining climbs seemed like child’s play compared to the one I managed to pull off to get into the gulley. As I reached the ridgeline and got off the dreaded North face, there was sunshine all around and several spots with no snow, as I suspected. I found a comfy boulder to sit on and then buried my face into my arms with exhaustion and relief as I waited for my fingers to thaw, which did so in record time.
Having reached the ridge, I was only about 1/4 mile from the peak, and the rest of the way to the top along the trail was smooth sailing. The views were absolutely beautiful and stack right up there with some of my favorite ranges, [Chiricahuas, Pinalenos, & Patagonias to name just a few]. I found one survey marker and a register by the highpoint. The log, [which consisted of several loose sheets of paper], was very wet, so I did ‘register duty’ and took out each sheet until it dried, [which didn’t take more than 5-10 minutes], placing each one gently under a small rock so it wouldn’t blow away. Before leaving the summit, I added an extra layer of security from the elements to the old register jar by wrapping it in a large Ziploc bag that I had in my pack and then returning it to it’s place among the summit cairn.
Ironically enough, my return trip proved to be almost as frightful as my approach. I started down by following the mostly nonexistent trail back to the saddle area. Upon reaching the saddle area, I noticed that the ridgeline leading up toward UN 7390 was more defined than the actual trail. Thus, I decided to head along the ridgeline for my return, [toward UN 7390 and then toward Rockhouse Peak & Topout Peak, both of which were on my itinerary], and then return by one of the other trails I’d routed in that part of the range. I figured if I had time, I’d grab Rockhouse and possibly Topout; and if not, I’d get one/both of them the next day.
Things started off well; and, compared to when I was attempting to follow the trail earlier on, I made great time, got less scratched up, and barely had to look at my GPS while traversing the route on the ridgeline. I hit up UN 7390 and then continued along the ridgeline toward Rockhouse Peak. The views along the ridgeline shortly before Rockhouse are just spectacular and even more beautiful than those from Kennedy Peak. Approaching from the NE, it’s not hard to see how ‘Rockhouse’ got its name. The super craggy peak is composed of layers/levels of crags/boulders, which collectively resemble a large house/building. Although extremely craggy from all sides that I could see, I spotted a gulley that appeared to have a clear line of sight to the top… however, I got sidetracked bouldering up [instead of around] the craggy prominent point on the ridgeline just before Rockhouse; and after cresting the final crag, it cliffed out. By this point, it was too late in the day to retrace my steps, then contour the crag, and then summit Rockhouse. If I wanted to get back before dark, I’d have to call it a day. It was a rare moment for me to commit to a peak and then make a blunder like this, resulting in not reaching the summit, and definitely more than a bit frustrating, but it worked out in the end; the next day I simply approached from a different direction, grabbed the peak, and got to see more of this beautiful range.
For my return, I descended from the crag, headed for a small saddle area to the NE of it, and then dropped into a drainage. This part of the off-trail was slightly different than the route I’d drawn for myself, [since the one I drew was based on exiting the ridge from Rockhouse Peak instead of the crag just to the East of it]. For where I exited the ridge, my two options for reaching trail were:
1. Riding the drainage to the bottom and then reconnecting on the trail I’d come in on; OR
2. [If the drainage cliffed] then bank out on either side and hope to be able to ride the ridge over / down to the trail, with the south ridge leading down to the trail I’d come in on and the North ridge leading over to the Tortilla Trail, which would reconnect with the trail I came in on after 2-3 miles.
It was definitely a bit unnerving as I started down the drainage… having to backtrack at this point would’ve meant hiking for several hours in darkness to get back to my vehicle. Several Class 3 climbs were needed to get down the drainage It would’ve been quite fun in warmer conditions, but with lots of ice in the drainage, it was definitely a cold and wet trip down as I often sat / stepped in the only non-icy spots [i.e. the cold running water]. Further down, I spotted vertical walls on both sides and it really made me nervous. Luckily, as I approached the cliffy section, I noticed a well-beaten animal route banking out to the North. Provided this route didn’t cliff, I’d reach the Tortilla trail in just under 0.75 miles and be home free. After banking out of the drainage, there were a few additional craggy areas to negotiate but nothing difficult, and I soon had a clear line of sight to the Tortilla trail. It was a huge relief to say the least!
On my way over to the trail, I quickly grabbed the craggy but fun / very doable UN 6436, and about 0.75 miles after having connected with the trail, I hit up UN 5881 which was right on the way back. My return trail was worlds better than the one leading to Kennedy Peak, with the one problem spot being in the area right before it crosses Oak Creek. It’s more obvious coming from the other direction, but coming out of the wilderness and back toward the TH, it’s very difficult to follow thanks to the myriad of animal routes that are more beat-in than the main trail and running every which way… thank goodness for Route Scout!
I reached my vehicle with about 10 minutes to spare before I would’ve needed my headlamp. The adventure was epic to say the least, [and at times a little too epic]… so much for my autopilot trail hike! |
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| God save the Prom Queen, cuz [reality check!] AEG's King...! |
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Route Editor
Route Scout
Route 
But seriously ... it's not helping to leave anything here. If you carry it in, carry it out too. Your 12-lb Ozark Trail sleeping bag is trash. The cabin does not need another bottle of mustard!
So yeah, it was a real grind due to unexpectedly terrible trail conditions on the south side of the loop.
