After an aborted attempt the previous year (turned around in the boulderfield when screaming wind and rain were making me too cold), I returned on 8/3/17 to try again. THIS time, I reached the 14,259 foot summit through the Keyhole Route! Here is my trip report, including (at the end) discussion on the difficulty of the keyhole route and how I think most discussions of this route make it seem too hard in some ways but too easy in others. The Keyhole Route is a long, grueling day hike. Do not start without being acclimated to the altitude - some warm-up hikes at 9000-12,000 feet and a few days in Estes Park (over 7000 feet) will really help, especially if you are from somewhere much lower. Start early - before 3am - and plan to be on the trail 15 hours! The 15 miles of this trail is much longer than it sounds due to the high altitude, elevation gain, possibility of freaky weather, and most of all the fact that the last mile and a half is almost entirely scrambling and climbing. Yes, some people do it much faster. Unless you have done so yourself, don't count on it. You might consider reserving a spot in the campground in the boulderfield. This does mean that you have to haul overnight gear all the way up to the boulderfield (6 miles, 3300 feet up), but you can start from there the following morning. On my succesful summit day, I began hiking at 2:40am. This is the sign on the side of the ranger station at the trailhead, the station being invisible in the pitch-black early morning:
I turned on my headlamp and hiked through the quiet, eerie alpine forest. The hike is popular enough that I was not completely alone, but the spooky isolation of hiking in a dark forest is rather intense! I was taking it slow and steady. I had plenty of time, and didn't want to tire out too fast. The path to the peak ascends almost 5000 feet over 7+ miles, and is high enough (9400 to over 14,000 feet) that altitude sickness is a concern! After about two miles, the path emerges from the forest and into a broad alpine valley. The trail ascends a little more steeply and becomes very rocky. You'll need to keep that headlamp pointed at your feet and watch your footing. On the day I summited, the steady ascent carried me into a cloud, and even with the headlamp could only see a dozen or so feet in any direction. It was wonderfully creepy. The trail is clear enough that I had no trouble following it, but the path is so rocky that it is possible to wander off trail in the dark. Be alert. After about three miles, I came upon the fork to Chasm Lake. Here a sign also directs you to a privy. Besides this one, there are (primitive) bathrooms at the trailhead and at the boulderfield. It is true that altitude sickness can cause, shall we say, the need to get to a bathroom fast. On my first attempt, an icy wind was really picking up at this point, roaring about, while on my successful attempt the temperature was getting chilly and there was a drizzle, but the wind was calmer. Do not attempt this hike without winter clothes and rain gear! Rain, hail, cold wind, and freezing temperatures are always possible and you will be many hours from the trailhead for most of the day. Here is where I began to see people coming down. They had seen scary lightning (always a very real danger above the treeline) up higher and turned back. I heard a quiet, remote rumble of thunder. As the sky began to get light, I waited at the Chasm Lake junction to see if the storm was approaching or would fade. After about twenty minutes, I heard no more thunder and saw no lightning, and continued up the path. Nearly everyone who had started earlier had turned around, and only three of us set off from Chasm Lake junction. The sunrise, from attempt no. 1:
Those two floating orbs on the right aren't ghosts but are other hikers' headlamps. The sun is peeking through the clouds on the tundra:
Here, the trail passes under a rubble pile called Mt. Lady Washington. The day I summited, it was hiding behind the lifting fog.
The sunrise was prettier on my first attempt since it was a clearer morning:
The trail, always gradually ascending, turns left over the top of the ridge and hits another junction. This pass is called Granite Pass and is easy to spot from a distance - there is a huge (natural) rock pile that looks like an oversized cairn. You could hike to Bear Lake from here, but instead turn left and head for the boulderfield! Eyeball this junction and be sure you know where you're going on the way down. It's well marked, but you'd hate to carelessly make a wrong turn later when you are tired. In the early morning light, pikas were active. I saw a half dozen or so, scampering about carrying plants and chirping at each other. (Or perhaps at me.) From Granite Pass, the trail ascends a long series of switchbacks before straightening out and heading across a flat, rocky plain towards the campgrounds, boulderfield, and Keyhole. An amazing view from just above Granite Pass. I am standing above one layer of clouds and below another:
Around this spot, the other two folks who had continued on from the Chasm Lake junction turned back. (Why, I don't know. The weather was clearing and beautiful.) I was totally alone, and began to worry that there would be no one on the Keyhole Route. As dangerous as it is, I was not willing to try it alone. Approaching the boulderfield, you have some great views of Longs Peak's striking diamond face. The fog and clouds were lifting quickly, revealing a beautiful clear morning. Longs still has a thin cloud hanging over the peak, and you can barely see the Keyhole if you know its shape:
As you approach the boulderfield, the greenery on the ground gradually fades away, making the path more difficult to spot. Cairns will guide you to the campsites, privy, and the end of the trail and start of the scrambling/climbing route. There is a pleasant stream winding through the rocky terrain. Thankfully, once I reached the campsites, I met three folks who had camped out overnight. They were getting set to head up to the peak. Knowing that I wouldn't be alone on the path, I sat down to eat, drink, and rest for the most difficult part of the trip. The boulderfield campground is the end of the official hiking trail, about six miles from the trailhead, and about 12,700 feet in elevation. The first time I attempted this climb, I turned around here. It was ferociously windy and cold, and starting to rain. Worried about hypothermia, I turned back. The second time, the weather was just beautiful. Sunny, warmish, not too windy, and despite the earlier fog and clouds, the sky was rapidly clearing. I cached some of my huge supply of water (to lighten my load) and continued into the boulderfield.
As you can see above, this area is nothing but a huge sea of rock. There is no trail through the boulderfield. It's about a half mile and 500 feet of elevation gain from the campsites to the Keyhole. There are cairns to guide you along, but the Keyhole is easy to spot, so just head in that direction. This a long half-mile: it took me the better part of an hour to get from the campground to the Keyhole. The ground is nothing but a jumble of uneven, often loose rocks jutting up at odd angles. Be careful, and this part is slow going but not especially difficult. Here I am on the way to the Keyhole (visible to the right of me). I have two jackets and a hood (and gloves) because it is cold at this altitude!
A dramatic selfie just under the Keyhole:
Just out of frame in the above picture is the Agnes Vaille shelter, a small stone hut built in memory of a woman who died here in the 20s after a winter climb. The weather was lovely and sunny, but nonetheless, a picture from inside the shelter:
Stepping through the Keyhole is one of the most breathtaking moments I've experienced in hiking. The boulderfield is pretty neat and has scenic appeal in its own bleak way, but the minute you step into the Keyhole, you can see this incredible valley, visible for the first time, on the other side:
Wow! As you traverse the Keyhole Route, this is the kind of view you will be hovering over. Looking back at the overhanging rock of the Keyhole:
I'm naming this "Papa Smurf Rock". As I was approaching the Keyhole, two climbers were descending off of that outcropping, which I believe means they were coming down the (technical) Keyhole Ridge route. If you aren't sure about the entire climb, or are running short on time and energy, I HIGHLY recommend at least climbing to the Keyhole. The view is unbelievable. Once through the Keyhole, the Keyhole Route begins. There are four areas: the Ledges, the Trough, the Narrows, and the Homestretch. Just through the Keyhole, you begin your trek through the Ledges. Look for red and yellow bullseye blazes:
The path is not obvious! Be sure to always follow the blazes, keep track of where the last one was, and, if you can't see the next one, back up to the last one and try a different way. Wandering off the blazed path means harder climbing and the possibility of getting stuck or forced to backtrack, wasting precious time and energy. Even as you are getting tired on the descent, always watch the blazes. Several times, I started scrambling the wrong way because it looked best, then realized there were no blazes and turned back. Because I watched carefully, I never got more than 10-15 feet off the path. The blazes will take you all the way to the summit and then back to the Keyhole. Here is the famous narrow spot with the iron bars:
This is probably the most frighteningly narrow spot on the route, and, like so much of the Keyhole Route, is scarier in photos than in person. Having said that, go slowly using your hands and feet. There was a fatal fall right here a few years back. You'll scramble up a V-shaped slippery slope, which has another iron bar in it which makes a great handhold. Then there is a longer but less exposed slippery notch:
At least you won't fall anywhere scary if you happen to slide down this one. Throughout the Ledges, peer back at the Keyhole and make sure you recognize its shape for the descent. I have read that tired climbers have gotten off track and tried to climb through another opening which, from the Ledges, looks a little like the Keyhole but isn't. I wasn't certain which formation was the "False Keyhole", but nonetheless be sure you can spot the Keyhole from this side. The path through the Ledges actually descends about 150-200 feet to the base of the Trough. It's a fairly steep descent, and is really no fun on the way back when it is the last bit of ascent you will have to deal with. Here I am at the bottom of the Trough, looking up:
The trough is a 600 foot scree gully. It's steep and full of loose boulders and some solid ledges. This, for me, was the most difficult part of the climb. It's quite a long slog, and slow moving up uneven ground. No one particular part is that bad, but here is where I began to slow down. Though I acclimated well enough not to get altitude sickness, I was getting short of breath. I was moving somewhat slowly and having to rest frequently to catch my breath. The view down the trough is unbelievable! Here, I am most of the way up the Trough looking down. You can see climbers below me, two of the people I met in the boulderfield campground:
Those three (the other one was fast and she was already ahead of me) came behind me, but were fresh thanks to starting in the boulderfield, having camped there. At the top of the Trough is the Keyhole Route's most difficult move. Your goal is to get over the ridge to your right (where exactly will be totally clear thanks to the blazes). However, the way up is not obvious. I reached the top of the Trough along with the three folks who had left the boulderfield campground behind me, and we puzzled over the best way to get up. They were able to ascend the direct route up a slippery, steep slab of rock with some tiny footholds and handholds in it. I tried, but wasn't able to get up there. I wasn't confident that my boots would stick well enough. However, head around to the left and there is less direct but much easier route. You will need your hands, and there are some nice cracks that will afford you some solid handholds. Once I found this route, it was no problem. I was up and over the top of the Trough and onto the Narrows.
The photo above is the beginning of the Narrows. True to the name, it is a narrow path between a towering sheer cliff and a steep drop-off. However, if you can stomach the heights, this is by far the easiest portion of the route. It is pretty flat and is the only time on the Keyhole Route where you can simply walk for the most part. There is one move which, like most obstacles on the Keyhole Route, is terrifying in a picture but not so in person:
That rock, which might be 6-7 feet tall, blocks the path. I found it easiest to go around the outside, grabbing the crack in the rock with my hands and taking a big step from foothold to foothold. Doing so exposes you to a drop, though I felt very secure. A big step for me (6'2") might be a huge step if you are significantly shorter, and you may want to scramble between the rock and the cliff face instead. Here I am on the Narrows:
After a quick stroll across the Narrows, which ought to be the quickest of the four parts of the route, I arrived at the base of the Homestretch. There are a few high ledges here you will have to climb up to reach the Homestretch. It's not difficult compared to what you've already done, but I found it easiest to use my knees like a caver. Those dramatic cliffs across the way aren't part of the route, but sure look neat:
Looking up the Homestretch, you see your goal! The top of this slab is the summit!
...But, as you can see from the scale of the other climbers in that picture, it's a long climb. The photo makes the Homestretch look nearly vertical. In fact, it's more like a 45 degree angle. No technical gear needed, and not especially difficult by itself. However, you're at about 14,000 feet at the start of the Homestretch and have ascended 4500 feet already. I don't mind admitting I was tired at this point, moving slowly, and somewhat short of breath. The summit looked impossibly far up. I even thought about turning around. But the summit is right there, in view! I ascended the slab mostly on all fours slowly, taking a few steps, taking a few breaths to regain energy, and repeating. The summit soon didn't look so far away, and then I was on top, 14,259 feet up!
The summit of Longs Peak is not a point but rather a big, open, flat space about the size of a football field. The three folks from the campground had reached the top already, and we were the only four people on the mountain. For a hike that's normally quite crowded, it was stunningly eerie and lonely.
Here I am on the very highest point:
Here is the incredible view from Rocky Mountain NP's highest point, with some of the other climbers in the picture as well:
Another view from the summit. Note the clouds in the valley to the left and below us:
Two marmots were running around the summit, chittering at each other. Here's one:
Do they live here? There look to be very, very few plants this high up, just the occasional lichen. Maybe there are more plants / moss / lichens in the cracks of the boulders where they're not easy to spot. I left the trailhead at 2:40 and reached the summit at 11:40 - a nine-hour expedition, probably the longest hike I had ever taken (and I still had to go back!) No, I was not racing for time and yes, I had to wait out the storm earlier, but even so, that's a long time to go 7.5 miles. Unless you've done Longs Peak before, give yourself LOTS of extra time. It is not quick work, and when you get short of breath up high, you will not be moving quickly no matter how much you want to. The park recommends everyone be off the summit before noon due to afternoon thunderstorms, which are very common in the summer and extremely dangerous on the very exposed Keyhole Route. In fact, lightning, not falling, is the number one killer on this climb. While the weather looked fine, I didn't want to chance anything. I spent only a few minutes on the summit and decided to head back. I asked the other three for a favor: if they passed me on the way down, to stick with me until we were out of the Keyhole Route. I did not want to be the last person coming off the mountain alone - what if I got hurt? With them coming up behind me or climbing with me, they would know I was hurt and could send help. If I was the last person off the mountain, there would be no one to contact (and cell phones rarely work up there) and I could be in big, big trouble if I got hurt. They agreed, and at 11:50 I was heading back down. The view from the summit looking down the Homestretch:
The Homestretch is an easy descent. Sit on your butt and scoot down, making sure to follow the blazes. It was nice to be moving downhill - though I was certainly still tired, it was much less taxing to descend. Just don't be moving so fast that you lose track of the blazes! The route looks different going back. Be sure you are on it. Here's a sign in front of an incredible view between the Homestretch and the Narrows:
After a quick jaunt across the incredible Narrows, here I am on the ridge between the Narrows and the top of the Trough:
Climbing back down the obstacle at the top of the Trough is not difficult, and soon I was scooting down the Trough itself. This is more difficult than the Homestretch because the ground is so loose and treacherous, but it was no problem to make slow and steady progress. Again, watch for the blazes: you do NOT want to miss the route and have to come back up the Trough! I was lucky in that the Ledges / Trough intersection was "marked" by a patch of snow the day I climbed, so I had a general idea of where to look. But watch the blazes. To descend the Trough, do like you did in the Homestretch: squat or sit on your butt and scoot. Throughout the descent, I was the only person on the Keyhole Route. (The other three left the summit long enough after I did that I didn't see them.) A lot of marmots live on Longs Peak, and a half-dozen or so visited me on the descent of the Keyhole Route! Here's one that came right up to my feet on the Ledges:
The Ledges contains a spot where you have to climb UP a few hundred feet on the descent. It's not easy after the long, difficult ascent. I climbed slowly with plenty of breaks and found myself looking back across at the Keyhole. From here I slid carefully down the polished slabs and heard a distant rumble of thunder, which is not something you want to hear so high and exposed. Thankfully, I was close to the Keyhole and the Agnes Vaille shelter. Soon, I was through the Keyhole and waiting out the storm in the shelter. A short while later, the other three climbers had made it back through and were in there with me. Though the storm never became too huge, it did bring thunder, lightning, hail, and a cloud rolled in over the boulderfield:
That picture was taken from the shelter, and you can even see some falling hail in it. After 30-40 minutes, the weather cleared, and I set out back down the boulders. Looking back at the Keyhole and shelter:
The shelter is made out of the rock that surrounds it, so it blends in quite well and is not easy to see from a distance unless you're really looking for it. The rest had done me good, and I moved carefully back down the boulderfield towards the campsites, following the cairns. I picked up my extra water, and soon I was past the campsites and back on the trail towards Granite Pass. The weather was not great. Drizzling rain returned, and a few times I heard distant thunder. At this point, there was nowhere to go but down the trail towards the still-distant treeline. There is a trail, which does not seem to be very well known, that actually shortcuts the main Longs Peak trail. The main trail makes a big capital C shape from the Battle Mountain campground junction to the Chasm Lake junction and then to Granite Pass, and there is a trail than basically cuts straight across the stunning alpine meadow from Granite Pass to the Battle Mountain campground. It is steeper, of course, but saves some distance and time, especially on the descent. This is Jim's Grove trail, which was a nice way to shave off a little time. On the descent, you will walk through Granite Pass and then the trail turns right. Start looking for a wooden post a few yards off to the left of the trail. Once you see it, you should be able to pick out the trail behind it. You'll miss it if you aren't looking for it, but it's no problem to find if you are. The trail is not as maintained as the main trail, but is quite easy to follow. It descends steadily (despite looking like it goes uphill from a distance, it never actually does) across the meadow, crossing some August snow:
...and eventually heading into Jim's Grove, a conservation area where signs warn you to stay on the trail. This is a very high grove of trees, above the primary treeline.
Throughout the descent, wildlife was everywhere, perhaps because the trail was so deserted. I saw perhaps 15-20 marmots out and about, ptarmigans (birds who can fly but usually just walk), pikas, and chipmunks. This picture (from my first attempt, hence the blue sky) shows Jim's Grove viewed from the main trail:
Jim's Grove trail spits you out into the Battle Mountain campground, just near the main trail. It's a really nice walk, and a nice shortcut since I was still a little worried about thunderstorms! Soon, I was back in the trees and enjoying the last few miles of the descent. The alpine forest is lovely, and you don't get to see it on the way up since you have to start so early. Here is Alpine Brook, about two miles from the trailhead (again from my first attempt, when the weather down low was sunny):
A short walk through the woods later and I was back at the car, just shy of 15 hours after setting out. Longs Peak is an unbelievable experience, an incredible adventure hike / climb with jaw-dropping views (especially on the Keyhole Route), constantly changing terrain, abundant wildlife, and some really neat challenges. It is also extremely difficult, a very long, tiring trek, and dangerous. So, what can I suggest to help you decide if this is a fourteener for you? I will start by saying that, at least in my own opinion, the exposure to drop-offs is simply not all that bad. Yes, there are places on the Keyhole Route where a fall would be fatal. But, you will hardly ever be right on the edge of a sheer drop. Hiking to Angels' Landing in Zion NP is much scarier if heights bother you - there you DO go right by several towering drop-offs. I also think that, while the rock climbing is quite strenuous, no one spot is really all that difficult. And I am NOT an experienced rock climber. The crux for me was the top of the Trough, and even that is not difficult once you see where to go. HOWEVER, what I think is quite difficult about this hike is the sheer length, elevation gain, and the simple fact that it wears you down. You will be tired, exhausted, even if you are acclimated to the altitude. Bear in mind that the scrambling / climbing doesn't start until you hit the boulderfield... after you have already hiked 6 miles up 3300 feet. That's a long, tiring, hike before any of the tough, dangerous stuff even begins! And, once into the boulderfield, you are climbing and scrambling on uneven ground for hours. You need constant attention to keep your footing solid, at a time when you will be getting increasingly exhausted. Let me put it this way. Longs Peak is about 15 miles roundtrip from trailhead to summit and back. I am quite used to day hikes this long. Earlier in the same year, I hiked 16 miles at Joshua Tree NP; 15 miles at Everglades NP (in 5 hours, with no breaks); 15+ miles at 7500-9500 feet in Bryce Canyon NP; and 17.1 miles one week prior to my Longs summit in Isle Royale NP. While certainly somewhat tiring, none of these hikes was all that difficult for me. Isle Royale was the toughest of the bunch, and all that happened is that my feet were kind of sore by the end. That hike of 17.1 miles was done at a leisurely pace, enjoying the park, watching moose, climbing the fire tower, and maybe took me 7.5-8 hours. Then there's Longs Peak which took me 9 hours... just to reach the summit. And nearly 15 hours round trip. The difficulty of Longs, at least for me, was the slog up the Trough and the Homestretch in the thin air of 13-14,000 feet. I was out of breath and having to take it a few steps at a time and, as you can see from above, I'm an experienced hiker and in at least some semblance of shape. And, while you will be quite tired, you still have to negotiate unsteady footing, scrambling up and down, and following the correct route, all of which take concentration. And there's the constant danger of winter conditions, whiteouts, and most of all thunderstorms. If all this doesn't deter you, go for it! The views from the peak and accomplishment of climbing one of the more difficult fourteeners make the difficulty way more than worth it. If you go, though, be smart: Layers, winter clothes, waterproof clothes, lots of water and food, know the weather forecast, and turn around if conditions get bad. Ideally, get to Estes Park a few days early, hike some high but easier hikes to acclimate, and keep an eye on the forecast. If you can, have two days available so you can shoot for the one with the better weather forecast.
Bear Lake Area hikes
Rocky Mountain NP's Bear Lake area (near Estes Park) is both stunningly beautiful and relatively easy to access. You can drive right up the a trailhead just a few yards from Bear Lake itself and other trails branch off from here. Ginger and I explored the path out to Nymph, Dream, and Emerald Lakes, three lovely alpine lakes along one of the area's trails. This hike packs incredible scenery into a hike that is neither long nor difficult - the path out to the three lakes grades gently uphill on the way out, and the whole trip out and back is about three and a half miles. Easy, yes, BUT the whole thing is over 9000 feet up. Be careful that you're somewhat acclimated, because altitude sickness is possible here!
The first lake the trail passes is the placid Nymph Lake:
More lakes along the path:
The first day we tried this hike, it was raining and we ended up turning back. Here's Nymph Lake again, this time in the sun:
Between Dream and Emerald Lakes, a stream cuts across the rocks:
And, at the end of the path, the incredible Emerald Lake, surrounded by towering peaks:
Here we are in front of Emerald Lake, this time in black and white:
And a tree along Emerald Lake's shore:
The Bear Lake area is an ideal way to see wonderful mountain scenery without a severely difficult hike. It can also be a good warm up for hiking longer distances at higher altitudes!