McHenry's Notch and Mt. Powell, Rocky Mountain National Park - June 2, 2013
I thought about doing this route for a year, at least. It had so much to offer: A tour into a deep hanging valley that few people ever see. A northern aspect snow climb, tucked away in shadows by fins of rock. A route finding exercise from an aspect of a park I’d never seen.
I thought about doing this route for a year, at least. It had so much to offer: A tour into a deep hanging valley that few people ever see. A northern aspect snow climb, tucked away in shadows by fins of rock. A route finding exercise from an aspect of a park I’d never seen.
Oh, and the 2am alarm. What’s not to like?
KM and I were on the road at 2:30am and hiking by 4:30am. The well worn path through Glacier Gorge, the east-facing route to Shelf and Isolation Lakes. At the first of June, there was still a lot of hardened snow and ice on the “trail” to Shelf and Isolation and the way through was often a choice between treacherous side hilling and scrambling on wet rocks, occasionally peppered by ice-hard snow.
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| Looking north toward the steep walls below the Thatchtop Powell Ridge |
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| The headwall at the end of the valley. McHenry's Notch is hidden here, next to one of the ridge like structures just left of the headwall in the center of the photo |
By 10am we had post-holed through a bowl near the western terminus of this valley, and abruptly, at climber’s left, we spotted an obvious path to the skyline, almost hidden by the sheer walls of Arrowhead and Powell Peak.
Navigationally, it’s not hard to find McHenry’s Notch Couloir. Just climb to the hanging valley’s end until you’re faced with vertical walls and this one hidden ribbon of icy snow, trending southwest.
The climb was moderately steep and the snow soft enough that we slipped past a modest cornice on the steepest exit without difficulty. It ran through my mind that the snow pack here, on this shaded, northern slope, might still be in winter condition. But I tried not to dwell on that. Denial ain't a river in Egypt, as they say.
The notch itself was a little pocket of nowhere else in Rocky Mountain National Park. McHenry’s Peak towers on one side of the notch with a blocky ridge heading towards the summit. WNW, a spur ridge of Powell Peak, with vertical stone walls, like mustard-colored organ pipes, bookends the other side of the notch.
We’ve both travelled pretty extensively in RMNP in the last few years but at the notch, we were given something special. Describing the experience with words and photos seems like a dreary replacement for being there.
It’s not so much about climbing McHenry’s Notch. It’s about being there. A panaroma of valleys, ramparts, sequestered lakes, and sheer cliffs, clattering and hissing with falling ice and snow. An experience won with the usual currency of muscles and lungs.
It’s not so much about climbing McHenry’s Notch. It’s about being there. A panaroma of valleys, ramparts, sequestered lakes, and sheer cliffs, clattering and hissing with falling ice and snow. An experience won with the usual currency of muscles and lungs.
The “obvious exit gulley” to Powell Peak was nothing but in these spring like conditions.
The shoulders of Powell on the western side are steep and offer all kinds of sucker-exits, a few of which we were conned into, and downclimbing them with packs, boots and crampons was spicy.
Eventually we arrived on the top of Powell Peak, via a gully less menacing than most others, guarded by a cornice.
I stood there and remember trying hard to encapsulate our trip before we’d have to leave, and embrace the trudging tundra-walk home.
Was it executing on a plan fermenting so long, or the variety of skills required to get here? Was it the explorer in me, often the driving factor in my trips, or the solitude. We didn't see a soul for 15 hours, and then only a half-dozen people a mile from the trailhead.
It could also be that I came to understand that I trusted my climbing partner as much as myself, which I do not think is a common experience. Neither of us played the role of the guide. We were equals who shared in the adventure and the risk, and contributed to its success.
I wonder if at some future date, when I’ve gone soft in memories of experience, I remember my partner as much as the features of an amazing trip to McHenry's Notch.
