Spring is just around the corner. Our days are getting longer. Forests and meadows are greening. Birds are flying north and filling the world with song. Hope, fun, and adventure are all on the horizon!
As we look forward to the many possibilities ahead, I want to revisit an exciting escapade from the last warm season.
About 3 hours south of Missoula begins the Lost River Range, a 75 mile stretch of mountains running North-South through central Idaho. The elevation of the valley floor is about 6300, and this arid, barren landscape houses eight of the state’s 10 highest peaks. Rising to 12,662 feet, Borah Peak is both the tallest point in Idaho and the crown jewel of this region.
I had heard of a few people flying off of the summit, and it seemed like worthwhile ambition. Using Google Earth and some online hiking guides, I researched the logistics of the mission.
Late August looked like it would offer the best chance at success. By this time in the season, the previous winter’s accumulated snow would be gone from the summit, the weather would have stabilized to offer the greatest likelihood of a flyable window, and we would be fit enough from the summer of hiking to get to the launch by daybreak.
Stephen Arwine, an Alaska native and all around strongman, and I drove down in the late morning from Missoula. We stopped in Challis, Idaho for lunch and last minute supplies before heading to the trailhead. We were in a relatively remote section of the state, so we needed to be careful to maximize our chances of an incident-free flight. It may have been a little overkill, but we set up about a half dozen steamers to indicate the wind direction and speed. Landing into the wind reduces your ground speed and is the best recipe for a safe touch down.
Setting up camp was quick and easy. There were about 10 other campsites full of people who had either hiked earlier that day or would be gunning for the summit the next morning. We talked with and congratulated those that had already made the journey to the top. From what we gathered, it would be a long slog just to get above the treeline, but the terrain would be visually spectacular from there onward.
We went to bed at 9pm and set our alarms for 2:30 am. Our goal was to reach the summit and fly off shortly after dawn. We needed the sun to hit the slope and draw the wind up the direction of the face that we would be launching off. However, because we would be flying off with our speedwings, we also wanted to get off before the heat from the sun started to produce thermals. Essentially, we were hoping for smooth conditions so that we could enjoy the scenery and whirl around under our wings!
My alarm blared, and I begrudgingly snapped out of a REM cycle. Once I had regained some basic sensory awareness, I was better able to appreciate the still nocturnal scene. An uncountable number of stars bedazzled the ink black sky. Common Poorwills called out their names through the groggy darkness. Stephen and I prepared kits and quickly scarfed some jetboiled oatmeal and apples.
The clock struck 3am, and we started hoofing. The trail began out deceptively well graded. This easy going got the best of me, and I started to pick up the pace. Fortunately, Stephen kindly pointed out the folly of sprinting at the start of a 5000+ foot climb. Indeed, it was not long before the incline sharpened and our heart rates quickened. The well trodden path was easy to follow.
The glow of our headlamps illuminated ponderosa pines and juniper trees for the first hour. Then we broke above the treeline, leaving behind all vegetation as we looked out at towering talus covered slopes. These slate-like rocks shifted slightly under our footsteps as we continued on. Few words were exchanged as we got into the steady repetition of slowly advancing our feet and trekking poles upward.
After about 3.5 miles, we reached Chicken Out Ridge. This is where the trails transition from a grueling hike to a fairly fun scramble. We timed getting to this section perfectly with the first hints of alpenglow. This growing light made the scramble a lot safer, but it also made the setting utterly sublime. We began to make out the silhouettes of the rocky subpeaks that surrounded us. As the sun crested the horizon, the mountains colored in with soft hues of pink, orange, and yellow. This was a radiant moment that I will not soon forget.
After 4 hours, 5 miles, 5200 vertical feet, we reached the summit!!
The area to launch from was steep and jagged. Care and precision would be needed to get into the air without damaging limb or wing. Very fortunately, the wind was coming up in the desired direction. Somewhat unfortunately, it was a bit of a stiffer breeze than we anticipated. We watched the conditions for a few minutes, then donned warm clothes and harnessed up on the leeward side of the mountain.
The moment of truth came! I was first to launch, and, after a quick dispute with my wing, got into the air. The conditions were surprisingly smooth. I looked around and found that all was right with the world. The most impressing aspect was that the sun had cast a perfectly pyramidal shadow from Borah towards the west. I had never experienced this phenomenon before, so flying towards it was remarkable.
Stephen launched safely and soon was chasing me through the air. We passed over hikers making their way up the rocky trail we had just labored up. What took four hours to ascend, we whirled down in about eight minutes!
Stephen landed beautifully, into the wind on his feet. I, on the other hand, may or may not have ended up with some sagebrush in my teeth, but without injury. We did it!! This was an awesome moment, and we each shouted with joy. Our enthusiasm and elation were only surpassed by one thing: complete and total exhaustion. We returned to our tents and went to sleep… at 8 o’clock in the morning!
We awoke and regained the stoke for what had happened! This was undoubtedly the highlight of our summers! It was so great to share the adventure with a good friend. Smugly content with our accomplishment, we indulged in a detour to some hot springs on the drive back to Missoula. That is the way to cap off a KAVU day!
As the sun shines evermore brightly and we shake off the listlessness of winter, get ready and prepare yourselves for the goodness to come. Grab some homies and make the best of the warmth. Whether it is an afternoon of ice cream in the park, a weekend at the lake, or a week of backpacking in your favorite wilderness, there is much to look forward to! See you out there ;)
Jacob Glass
Favorite KAVU Item
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