June 25, 2009

The drive to this trailhead is technically easy, but the road past the cattle guard onto the National Forest is so narrow for so long that I was very worried about what I would do in the event of meeting another vehicle on the road. Aspen were brushing both sides of the truck as it was. Where would I go to let another car by? There aren’t many pulloffs, so beware if you’re heading up. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be much traffic at all, and I saw nobody on the way. I reached the trailhead under a mostly-cloudy sky, and packed my small bag for the trip. It was pretty warm, around 80, but I strapped my shell jacket and fleece on my pack just in case the rain that threatened actually materialized. Some sunscreen, deet, a hat and a change of socks and boots, and I was ready to roll up the trail at 5:00. 

The USGS map doesn’t accurately show the current situation of trails and trailhead, so it took some quick compass work and map interpretation to figure out that I wanted to head up the Kents Canyon Trail. This route led uphill along a well-used ATV trail that paralleled Mill Creek, a rushing stream lined thickly with delphinium, columbine and large aspen. A few waterfalls provided even more interest to an already interesting scene. Maples, snowberry and blooming chokecherry added to the lush, thick green screen along the route. I walked uphill on the dry trail at a good pace, sweating, enjoying the occasional break in the clouds that let in golden sunlight to shine on the foaming water and flickering aspen leaves. It wasn’t long before the mosquitoes discovered that I hadn’t sprayed my face with deet very well, and they began to land by the dozens, necessitating a constant slapping of my cheeks to kill them, probably making me look like I had mental issues. 
After a shallow crossing of Mill Creek, I reached a junction in the trail, and took the south fork for Kents Canyon Trail (334). At the time I wasn’t sure that was the best choice, and since I’ve not hiked the other option, I’m no more sure now, but the USGS map showed that route leading more directly to Elkhorn Peak, so I took it. The route continued as a motocrcycle trail, though no one was on it, and I headed southwest on a pleasant, quiet route through more aspen, douglas fir and maple. Skunk cabbage and large carrot-looking flowers helped create a very thick understory. In the wetter portions of the trail, horseshoe prints marked the mud, but no boot prints. 

I kept my map and compass handy and watched the trail until I reached a recognizable point where the trail takes a quick southeast turn at 7640’. I stopped for water, plugged in the summit coordinates into my GPS, then headed off trail up the hill to the west. Right about that time, the wind began to blow fiercely, and the rain began, just a light sprinkling. Not knowing if it would develop into more, I found a trio of massive conifers and broke a few low-lying dead limbs off their trunks to allow room for me to squeeze in among them. I sat in a deep carpet of cone bracts from a squirrel midden and drank some water while the rain spattered around me, but not on me. After a few minutes, the sprinkling stopped almost completely, and I resumed the ascent. The wind tapered down, and a little blue sky even began to show, though not much of it. The views to the east opened up, though the horizon was obscured by rain. The last little bit up the slope was extremely steep, and my heel began to hurt, as it has most of this spring. Once I made it to the ridge and could look over towards Pleasantville to the south, it was easy going north to the summit over large, flat rocks and lots of bleached wind-blown pine skeletons. The summit is marked by a conspicuous rock monument, perhaps the largest summit monument I’ve ever encountered, and I signed the summit register as the first person to do so in June. The sky was still mostly cloudy, and the horizon in almost all directions was obscured by clouds, which is too bad since I suspect the views from this prominent and isolated peak would be fabulous on a clear day. 

On my way down, I swung further south, keeping to the ridgeline until I suspected I was almost due south of the spot where I left Kents Canyon Trail. I stopped several times to tend to my heel, packing my bandana behind it, then some mole foam, which turned out to be pretty comfortable for most of the hike down. The sun began to shine on the hills to the south near Samaria, and the deep grass that has grown up under one of the wettest Junes on record glowed like velvet in the afternoon light. I left the ridge just as it began to rise again towards Kents Mountain, and headed straight north down a drainage that led me right back to the spot where I left the trail over an hour earlier. Under completely overcast skies and swarms of mosquitoes that came to feast in the still, cool air of dusk, I hiked on back to the truck and ended my trip about 3.5 hours after it began.

Initial portion of the trail is an old 2-track

Soon the views open up on the surrounding mountains

Kents Canyon Trail

This is where I split off to the right to head up towards the summit of Elkhorn Peak.

Steep slope, but fantastic views.

  Looking east down the slope I came up.

Near the open summit of Elkhorn Peak.

Summit with monument

Monument at Elkhorn Peak summit

Charred limber pines on the summit

Looking west towards very lush grasslands