The Full Timp Experience

I’ve never quite understood the saying: “there’s many ways to skin a cat.” Sounds pretty gory and bloody to me, like something out of Stranger Things. The only thing I can remotely relate this saying to is: “there’s many ways to summit a peak.” By definition, a peak has multiple routes up and down it. Since all lines up the peak eventually intersect at a point, mathematically there are infinite ways to summit a peak. Think of several “spokes” that all come together, or emanate from, a single “hub.” Logistically of course, a mountaineer is usually lucky if there is more than one way. If you are in a peak with several large drainages, ravines, or ridgelines, chances are there will be more than one navigable way up and one navigable way down. And the Wasatch Range has enough topographic variety that this usually is the case. But when a runner goes up to a summit one way and down a different way and still ends up at the same parking lot, it is a rare treat. Think of all the terrain covered, vistas experienced, flora and fauna absorbed, and trail underfoot from such a run!

Now think of doing all this on one of the top 3 most majestic mountain peaks of the Wasatch and soon you will understand the appeal of what I call the Timp Looper. August 23, 2019 was actually the second time I had done such a looper, with only two differences. The first is that this one would be in reverse from the time I did the year prior when training for the Wasatch 100. The second difference is this time I would be doing it with friends. Us ultra-runners are an odd breed – we love to be alone some times, and we love to be with people other times. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say, the more we are alone on the trail, the more we crave friends to run with us, the more we then crave to be alone again, and then the more we crave friends to run with us.  And the cycle continues. Maybe this is why the first half of the Wasatch 100 is run alone and the second half is run with friends (except for those die hard souls that prefer to do the full 30 hour experience all alone).   Actually, as I’ve gotten older, I can honestly say that my physical limitations are coming more in view and my desire to slow down and take it all in becomes stronger so therefore I want – even need – to do these big looper runs with people.

I met up with Shawn Grant, Ian Hoag (who took most of the great pics below), and Nathan Bailey at the Timponokee Trailhead at 06:30 hrs. We headed up the road and I took them down the wrong side trail toward Salamander Flat. This ended up costing us a valuable mile. But in the end it would lead to a trip that was 20 miles, rather than 19 miles. Who's counting - what's an extra mile in beautiful running country???

The Crew on The Top

We finally found the correct trail further up the Alpine Loop road that veered upward and southward toward the summit of the Alpine Loop, where we could have our final bathroom break of the day and access fresh water for our packs. Eating and drinking a bit here, we then headed down toward the Aspen Grove trailhead on the Broken Horse Trail. 

Before descending to Aspen Grove

This was arguably the prettiest part of the run. It’s always nice to have a pretty run on the downhill. When you aren’t so focused on managing your burning legs and lungs while going uphill, you can actually focus on the beauties of the landscape through which you are running on the downhill. And what beauties there were: waste-high ferns, thick aspen stands, and dense greenery, with filtered morning sun coming through the lush vegetation.

The true climbing began again once on the Aspen Grove trailhead. Many good memories of me back-country skiing this very drainage in the winter came back to me, when all is blanketed under 10'+ of snow. 

Up towards Primrose Cirque

To add to the beauty, we came upon many waterfalls. We counted a total of 21 waterfalls on the entire Timp Looper, some modest and inconspicuous, others mighty and boastful. Some were off in the distance, while some required us to actually navigate behind so we invariably took a shower. Each one refreshed my increasingly weary body in a wonderful way, as it was not only wet but full of wildflowers.

Lush views of Robert's Horn.

Refreshment.

Can you believe I skied down this exact waterfall in winter once?

The waterfalls just kept on coming...

 

We worked our way up the steep switchbacks past Primrose Cirque and on to what I call the high saddle.  This is where the terrain really flattens out at a point where the glacier must have paused and carved out the mountain side into a gentle valley. This pause and advance action of ancient glacial flows defines Timp's topography more than any other force. Seeing the summit for the first time, we picked up the pace here and powered on to Emerald Lake. 

Gorgeous Emerald Lake and the "Timp Glacier"

Thawing Out after an Icy Dip

 

Bluebells and Paintbrush and Lupine and Geranium and Monkshood and Aster and...on and on.

Ian flippantly suggested we take a dip in the ice-laden Emerald Lake at the bottom of the Timp Glacier (which is really a year-round snow field). I didn’t think he was serious until I saw him taking his shirt off and marching toward the lake.  Peer pressure got the best of me and I had to follow him to the icey crystal clear waters. This was the coldest water I had been in for a long time. It was so cold that I got an immediate headache when I fully immersed myself underwater for less than a second, but felt like an hour. I was more than refreshed - it was so cold I felt a bit nauseated.

After thawing out, we briefly considered rallying up the snowfield to take the southern ridge to the summit. But this looked icy and treacherous, so we decided to go the more traditional way, skirting across the upper cirque and to the northern saddle and ridge.  I was surprised at how much snow was still there in October, but maybe not too surprised given the 600” snowfall we had this past winter. I wouldn't be surprised if the glacier actually accumulated snow this year, rather than losing it as is typical these days. There were a few spots requiring one to slow down and be sure-footed, else one would slip and pitch over a band of cliffs to a very painful landing. It is in this area that you really get a sense of how glacial this entire area is. One glacial flow headed eastward, one glacial flow headed northward. Each scoured out huge hanging alpine valleys in their place. In all my decades of hiking and skiing in these mountains, I don't know of another place in the Central Wasatch that is so unique. It’s part of what makes the Timp Wilderness area so breathtaking.

Pondering the Birth of Glaciers - or just catching my breath...

From here on out, there is no more vegetation. Above the tree line, it is only littered with scree and boulders, with an occasional brave wildflower and even braver mountain goat families. We worked our way up past the false summit and on to the real summit, as delineated by a warming hut and a surveyors marker at 11,749’.

 

Our reward: awe-inspiring views in 360 degrees!

Looking east, down on Emerald Lake and Roberts Horn, with Deer Creek Reservoir in the distance.

Looking west, toward bustling Utah County and Utah Lake.

We then back-tracked to the Northern Saddle. Here we took a final look back at the glacial valleys. I’m not sure how Ian took such a breathtaking photo here, but he did. It belongs in a national wilderness magazine, in my opinion!  At this point, we could run trail again – finally. So we worked our way down the Northern Saddle, into the Upper Cirque, and then down the meandering Timponokee Trail back to the parking lot.  All told it was a 20-mile, 4-trail, 9-hour experience with great runners through every type of alpine terrain.  

We certainly got the most out of our time up there. It was the Total Timp Experience – and one that I shall never forget. 

Goodbye Timp Wilderness!