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The Nine Summits of Idaho By Nic Stover A year ago I decided I wanted to try to break the speed record for ascending the nine peaks in Idaho over twelve thousand feet. I did not anticipate what it would take to achieve it. Background There are nine peaks in Idaho that stand above twelve thousand feet. All of them involve at least a class 2 scramble and four thousand vertical feet of climbing. Intrigued by record setters in Colorado and California, I began asking around to find out who held the nine summits record here in Idaho. How long did it take them? What route did they use? I received the answers I was looking for from Dan Robbins of www.idahosummits.com, Tom Lopez author of, Idaho A Climbing Guide, and Jerry Painter author of Trails of Eastern Idaho. Shortly after getting all the current information, everything changed: a sixteen-year-old kid had conquered the nine peaks in 127 hours and 38 minutes shaving almost three days off the previous time. The pressure was on and I was ready. Thursday August 28th 2003 Drive from Donnelly to Leatherman Trailhead Breezing out of work at noon, my girlfriend Jen and I began the cross-state trek to the Leatherman Peak Trailhead. Arriving in view of the Lost River Range, my excitement grew. The bumpy, twisty, gnarly road led us back into the Pasmerqoi Valley. Facing a steep hill, Mario Andretti (Jen) gunned it and we made it to the top. Looking around, I casually pointed out that her bike was hanging off the side of the car. She had busted her rack, the first of many problems that weekend, so we tossed it in back and headed on. Coasting into the trailhead, we set about sorting, unpacking, and repacking the gear in preparation for what lay ahead. After a great steak and potato dinner it was off to bed at 9:15 p.m. What lay ahead? Friday August 29th, 2003  Leatherman Peak My 2:30 a.m. alarm was not well received, but was soon up, choking down a bagel, taping my feet, and applying liberal amounts of Bag Balm to prevent blisters. At 3:15 a.m., I started the timer and set out. An old archenemy of mine returned-nausea-and made me crave a bed. Hiking into the dark by yourself is rough. Hiking into the dark when you feel sick is rougher. Getting off trail and having to bushwhack in the dark by yourself while feeling sick is the roughest! Regardless, I found the bowl I was scheduled to ascend and started up. I was able to follow the traces of a trail, until that disappeared. About the same time the trail disappeared it started snowing. The snow, coupled with the nausea and disorientation, made me feel I was straying off trail. I overcorrected and ended up ascending a rather tricky section of the bowl. When the sun came up I realized my error, but it was too late to traverse across. Somehow I still managed to reach the summit at 6:45 a.m. I signed the register and established radio contact with my buddy Nate, who was at the base of the mountain waiting for me. The sunrise I watched from the summit was quite possibly the best I had ever seen, and it reminded me there was still a lot of climbing left to do.  Mt Church My plan was to descend from Leatherman, traverse across the basin, ascend Church, ascend Donaldson, drop down into the Jones Creek drainage, ascend the steep face of Britenbach, and then traverse across to Lost River Peak. That was the plan, but everything soon changed. The descent off Leatherman proved to be a little tricky. After having to reclimb a couple of sections, I reached a nice scree field and cruised down to where Nate was. We began our descent through the valley to set up the ascent of Mt Church. My nausea had subsided by this time, but Nate was suffering now. Reaching the bowl below Church and Donaldson, we purified some water and carefully chose our route. Towards the top, Nate began to struggle, so I continued up Church, and agreed to meet Nate at the Donaldson summit. I took off across the knife-edge ridge that separates the two peaks, and after carefully picking my way across, came to the summit at 12:45 p.m. The traverse had taken me almost an hour longer than planned, but I was still doing okay. Donaldson The descent from Church and ascent of Donaldson was rather straightforward and took me about forty-five minutes. When I arrived at the top, Nate was looking a little beat up. The traverse towards Britenbach looked almost impossible from our vantage point. After eating, it was 2 p.m. If we proceeded to ascend the next basin, there was a possibility that we would be forced to turn around, which would not be prudent. We decided to head back to the car and call it a day. Instead of the five peaks I had planned to do, I settled for three. We arrived at the trailhead at 5:30 p.m., where were happily greeted by Jen and some warm food. She had already set up camp at Borah Peak, so we headed out via the bumpy roads, dropping Nate at his truck along the way.  Saturday August 30th 2003 Borah Peak It was determined that a 2:15 start was needed. Upon waking up, the only good news I received was Jen telling me that my buddy Dave had shown up during my sleep. Figuring I had pinpointed dairy as the source of the previous day's nausea, I ate some oatmeal and set out. I was wrong-the old hag was back. Chatting with Dave on the climb up only postponed the inevitable. I almost turned back, but knew that it would effectively end my quest for the record. At the halfway point I requested that we deploy our emergency blankets and wait for first light. Shivering and disoriented I lay there for about an hour in my torn-up space blanket. Either the rest or the first sunlight recharged me, and I rejoined the trail with renewed vigor and determination. The wind kicked up when we reached the summit at 7:57 a.m. I quickly signed the log and snapped a few pics, then turned my back on the highest peak in Idaho.  On the descent we encountered a wide variety of people. There was a guy carrying a eight-foot staff that looked like an oar, a lady who mistakenly believed her dog would be able to navigate some of the vertical faces of the route, and a group of kids that responded to everything we said with "you lie." Kids: Are we there yet? Nic & Dave: 3,500 vertical feet to go. [Not a lie] Kids: You lie! What time did you start? Nic & Dave: 2:15 a.m. [Not a lie] Kids: You lie! How fast did you climb? Dave & Nic: (As we are running past) This fast. [Okay, a lie] Kids: You lie! Sacrificing our knees and barreling down the hill, we made it to the car in just over two hours. We headed to Britenbach with hopes of a traverse to Lost River. Britenbach  After failing to reach the summit via different routes in previous attempts, I was eager to finally knock off Britenbach. We arrived at the trailhead at noon (after a series of wrong turns) and rested for about twenty minutes before setting out into the blazing midday sun. We began the bushwhacking approach. We began fighting off the bushes, trying to avoid the thorns, nettles and thistles. Arriving at the toe of the peak, we slowly but steadily started the vertical ascent. We paused to check out the cool rocks (crustaceans, weird colors, etc) that took our minds off the task at hand. Nearing the saddle where we would connect with the final ridgeline, we discovered the true summit was indeed several ridges back, which I had suspected. Dave had only slept forty-five minutes the night before, so he elected to remain at the saddle. I found new energy and sprung up the ridge, arriving at the summit at 4:40 p.m. in good form. I was ready to begin the traverse across to Lost River.  Lost River Rather than descend the overgrown under-trailed Pete Creek and then re-ascend the over-rocked, unstable, Super Gully, I wanted to try again executing the traverse, which I had done earlier in the summer in the opposite direction. Picking our way across the ridge and a couple of gullies, we completed the traverse in less than three hours. This is the amount of time it would have taken us to just descend back to the Britenbach trailhead, plus whatever time would be required to ascend up the Super Gully. At 8 p.m., we paused on the summit for our last bit of sunlight, then gathered our wits and started down. Sailing down the scree-filled gully we descended the first 2,500 feet in thirty minutes before having to stop and affix our headlamps and observe the sunset. Soon after, we switched from scree to dirt and our pace slowed, though we still descended the four thousand vertical feet in just over an hour. Phew! Shoveling down some hot food, Dave cracked a beer and informed me that he would not be climbing with me tomorrow. I sipped a beer and for the first time in my life it did not even remotely taste good. Oh well, off to bed. Sunday August 31st 2003 Mount Idaho  We awoke at 5:15 a.m., and just like the previous mornings, Mr. Nausea was conducting class and I was his best student. I sat in the car till about 7:00 a.m., when I had enough of a stomach to return to my task. Mount Idaho is my favorite of the peaks because of its wide variety of terrain and its wooded approach. Unlike previous days, where I could munch along the way, I had to stop every hour to shovel down huge quantities of food. The scramble up the south face of the peak led me to a ridge where I zigzagged around outcroppings before scrambling up some rather fun sections with nice foot and hand holds. Ascending the five thousand vertical in four hours, I relaxed and took one last look at the Lost River Range. It was 11:20 a.m. I had climbed all of its twelve thousand-foot peaks in a little over two days. Setting my sites on pulling off the roundtrip in less than six hours, I began the descent. The scree field provided me with a twelve hundred foot vertical drop in ten minutes. Running as much as possible, I reached the trailhead two minutes over my six-hour roundtrip goal-not bad for day three. After two soft tacos and a burrito in Arco, I was napping in the sun as we drove to Diamond. Diamond Peak  The only peak of the nine I had never seen up close. Would I be able to pull it off with darkness approaching? The drive in was bumpy and I was transfixed on the giant peak of the Lemhi Range. It looked big, but nothing I couldn't handle, right? By this point in time I had told Jen this adventure was "like a job," but I had taken the job so I had to finish it. At 4:45 p.m., I set out on an old four-wheel drive trail that soon gave way to no trail and lots of side hilling till I reached the ridgeline where there was a well established trail to follow. The last thousand feet was some of the best scrambling I have ever done. Having a blast but wanting to pass back through this area before darkness, I kept a fast pace. I reached the top in two hours and fifty minutes-my fastest climb of the nine. At 7:35 p.m., I reached the summit and glanced at the Lost Rivers behind the setting sun, not even taking off my pack before heading down. Down-climbing the sections proved to be less of a problem than I thought, and I soon reached the main face and began my descent. By this time it was dark and Jen commented that it looked like I was on a bike, by how fast the headlamp was bobbing and weaving. Guided by her flashing headlamp off in the distance I navigated through the trees and emerged in four hours and forty-six minutes. Before starting the late-hour trek across the state to Hyndman, I ate a much-earned dinner and realized the end was near. Sunday August 31st 2003 Hyndman Peak I crammed into the back of Jen's jeep and prayed she wouldn't fall asleep while she drove. Upon arriving, we ripped the stuff out of the car and lay down for a few more hours of cramped rest. We awoke at 6:30 a.m. and drove to the trailhead. Today was a struggle, Hyndman has a very long approach-twelve miles roundtrip-and the lactic acid in my legs was preventing me from moving very fast. Like the previous days hike, I had to eat large amounts of food, even by my standards.  I encountered Joe from Boise, out hiking solo (without trekking poles I might add). He asked me what time I had left. I told him 7:30 a.m. (it was now 10:30 a.m.) to which he responded in a nice way "Showing off aren't you?" he said. I responded, "No showing off. This is my ninth peak in the past three days." He did a double take and then smiled and said "Guess that means you won't wait for me at the top." We talked for a while and I recommended trekking poles and he recommended Advil. The excitement in me was building. I would get too fidgety when I stopped, so I kept pushing on. At noon on the first of September, I reached the summit of my ninth peak. I let out a yell of excitement and then plopped down to sign the summit register and eat some food. I radioed to Jen at the bottom and announced "Nic's Stover's legs, in association with Jen Garretson's support, is proud to announce a new nine summits record" She called me a nut (like she usually does), and I told her I would see her soon! The descent out was long! I began to develop knee pain on my right kneecap, and could no longer stomach the idea of what I had left to eat. I arrived at the trailhead where I was greeted by my awesome support. I kissed her and then touched the car to officially stop the time. Three days, eleven hours, and sixteen minutes after beginning my odyssey I had completed it and broken the previous record by almost two days. We sat at the trailhead while I removed the last of my stinky clothes and reflected back on three days of non-stop action. It was good to be alive! Ultimately it wasn't me versus the clock or me versus the previous record holder. It was me versus the mountains. I had gone head-to-head with them and won! At least this time I did.  Afterthoughts Well my Leki trekking pole baskets are almost worn off, the shafts are bent, and one won't tighten. My shoes that were less than a week old were already coming apart at the soles and the tread was almost gone. I had only one blister . . but I was a nasty mix of gel, bag balm, sweat, and sunscreen. The trip had it's share of adventure, flat tires, the gas light was on the last 40+ miles, and check engine light the last few days. I saw two people outside of Borah peak, two people in 3 days of climbing on one of the most glorious weekends of the year. The most beautiful peak was Hyndman, the most technical was Diamond, and the hardest was Borah..Arriving back at work on Tuesday I announced it receiving some kind words of praise . . . the nicest came from Brad Darrington (the father of the former record holder Matt) . . he quoted Matt's grandfather. "Flatlanders can't ever really appreciate what climbing these mountains is like. The mountains look pretty impressive in a photo, or even from the highway. But only when you get out on them do you realize how truly vast they are. Ultimately it wasn't me versus the clock or me versus Matt Darrington it was me versus the mountains. This time I had gone head to head with the mountains and won! Final Stats 33,380-Vertical Feet Ascended 33,390-Vertical Feet Descended 83 hours 16 minutes-Final Time 49-Miles covered 9-Peaks 3-Incredible Days Idaho Statesman Article >> Photos >> |