Journeys: Mount Blackmore

I got a late start on my journey to hike Mount Blackmore, but I did get started. I felt like I was in a rush for starting late so I hauled as fast as the snowshoes would let me on the hard packed skin track in Hyalite Canyon. It was a steep five miles each way and I hoped to get out before night fall, but had my headlamp with me just in case. I left the trailhead around 10 a.m. and reached the three mile marker above the lake at 11:15 a.m. I was feeling strong and confident that I would make it back to my truck with plenty of time to spare. Things slowed down when I finally left the trees above the three mile marker and stepped out into a large bowl. The east face of Mount Blackmore shot up to my right and a steep saddle was directly in front of me to the south.

Mount Blackmore from the skin track.
Photograph by Chuck Bolte.

The skin track had ended and I felt I could pick my own route to the summit. I started up a gentle spur off the east face thinking it would be a hop, skip, and a jump to the top. As I hiked up I stopped to take a look at the scenery now that I was well above the trees. I noticed a benched in trail switchbacking up the steep saddle in the distance. For some reason I felt compelled to stick to the trail and backtracked down the spur and started up the saddle. I bypassed the switchback trail and let the crampon style snowshoes claw straight up the steep slope. I soon found myself on the ridge line, which had a more exciting view than the spur did. To the south I could see Alex Lowe Peak and Mount Bole. To the north Bozeman and the Bridger Mountains. It was a mile from the saddle to the summit, but it felt shorter. The wind picked up near the summit. I stopped to take photos until my hands were too cold to stand it. It was a gorgeous mostly blue day with a few clouds blowing by. A Tibetan peace flag flapped in the increasing wind and I put my gloves back on.

Just below the summit.
Self Portrait.

For the descent I chose to jog down the east face. The snow was crusty and I often stepped through it to dirt, rocks, and grass. Step, slide, step, slide. I cruised down the gentle face. I gained the spur that I had backtracked off of and kept my pace up. Back at the hard packed skin track I unstrapped the snowshoes. Without soft snow the snowshoes caused my knees and lower back to ache. I was feeling good and picked up a light jog carrying a snowshoe in each hand. Just before 2:00 p.m. my truck was in sight and I was back at the trailhead parking lot. I attribute the speed of the hike to the well packed skin track. If it had been deep powder I would have been gasping and struggling.