Timpanogos, Everest Ridge

Published on 2026-04-24 by Michael Stanton

Video of the trip:

I'd actually tried to climb this mountain before, 29 years ago in 1997! Kris had a business trip that took her to Provo, and I came along. It was mid-November, and pretty cold. While she went to meetings, I escaped to the back side of Timpanogos and started hiking up the trail. I ran into deep snow about half-way up, and had to call it quits. That was the last time I was in Utah. This time, I'd been inspired by X, who climbed the peak with friends about a month ago. Wow! I'd try to climb it by his route, which is the Everest Ridge, so named because some Salt Lake climbers in the 1990s used it to train for Mount Everest.

Awesome.

I left the Dry Canyon trailhead before dawn, enjoying the dark trail. I surprised a couple of turkeys who gobbled agreeably enough. The city lights were framed between two cliffs below, and dim bulks were gaining definition above me. I plodded forward, carrying my mountain boots, axe and crampons, a helmet, and my new GoPro camera, so I could film my trip like various heroic people on YouTube do!

I'm a sucker for trying to do such things, though I don't have the patience to make some footage become something great, or even something "mildly defined." I keep trying though because I enjoy reliving the day in words or pictures. Maybe I can add "moving pictures" to that set. One day I'll be too old to climb these things. I'll enjoy watching little movies.

Looking back down canyon in the morning

The journey ahead!

I arrived at the Baldy saddle, and wondered who built the terraces with fruit trees (I guess?) spreading out in many rows. Now I left the ridge, following a trail up into the canyon just right of the ridge. About 400 feet up, I gained the ridge crest and stopped to changed into boots and eat something. It seemed crazy that there was still sagebrush at this elevation! I motored up the ridge for over a 1000 feet, then reached snowfields on the right that began painting over the ridge crest. Time for crampons and axe here! The snow was good, hard but not icy. I reached a fairly level area, then climbed up to the final headwall. Here, you can climb the ridge directly at 4th class, or traverse to the right in order to mostly avoid rock climbing, though not completely.

Getting closer to alpine country...

Time for a rest!

There were old tracks on the traverse, so it was an easy decision to go that way. The snow ran out, and I climbed rock to a higher snowfield and crossed it too. Then it was time to follow my nose up. On a mix of shale and short cliff bands with the occasional welcome snowpatch, I went straight up about 150 feet to reach a ledge and trail. I followed this left around to the shady side of the crest below a big cliff. About 30 meters to the left, I saw a chance to head up with just a bit of rock climbing, though it was mostly covered by hard snow. This worked out well, and now I could make a gentle ascent to the ridge crest following tracks in the snow. I got to the crest and was blown away by the view looking down the other side to the glacier. On that side everything was black rock with snow gullies harrowing down. Just gorgeous!

Continuing up the ridge

A look back down

Almost time for the ice axe...

The wind was strong up here. I carefully walked a ledge just below the crest, and sometimes right on the crest off to the north, where the little building on the summit marked by a red triangle was visible. I didn't take many pictures or do much filming up here because of the brutal wind.

In fact, I arrived at the summit and wanted to make some clothing adjustments. I thought the square metal building would be a good place, however, it is open on all sides with rectangular windows. Still, I sat inside and adjusted my crampons and pulled some things out of my pack. I thought I had one pair of gloves in the pack, and one at my feet. Suddenly I heard a strange sound, like a flag slapping against a pole. Looking around me, I could only find one of my thick gloves. Oh no! Had the other one been blown out of the little building, where the wind whipped in unpredictable directions?

A view to the south in the impressive Wasatch Mountains

A look over to the true summit

A similar view, with an impressive, long, snowy face

The summit building

It appeared so. I poked my head out, though I knew it would be long gone, blown off to the glacier thousands of feet below. I ruffled around in my pack and found a thinner glove for my left hand and departed quickly. I was at least glad I always bring multiple pairs of gloves. Sometimes I even bring three pairs, in the winter, at least!

Annoyingly, the wind was just as bad walking the opposite direction, and in fact it had picked up in intensity. Every five minutes I stopped, crammed myself into a little hollow if possible, and worked to rewarm my fingers. It was a beautiful place, but I think a storm up here would kill you...extremely fierce wind.

I reversed my steps, being very careful at the rock steps which often had water ice on them to boot. In one case, I went a different way to avoid a sketchy cliff. I followed the traverse back, then descended the ridge, now happily on easier ground and the wind was reduced, too.

Whew!

I saw a point where people plunge-stepped off the ridge down the great valley to climbers right. Why not? I may have to reclimb the ridge a little bit to grab my shoes and some water I left below, but it would be worth it. I was wearing crampons for a long ways, so I couldn't glissade, but it was really nice and efficient to just bomb down. Later I removed them and could do a few standing glissades. Whee!

A look down the ridge. Note the snow traverse to reach it

A view back up in the afternoon, my tracks visible

Airplane-like views...

Eventually the snowfields became intermittant, then disappeared. I climbed directly down one short cliff, and then avoided a bigger one with a game trail exiting skiers left. I was glad I did! From the side it was a higher and steeper cliff than it looked from above!

A couple of rams sat and watched me while I drank some water.

I was able to traverse into the trail that gains the ridge, so I only had to climb 100 feet or so to get my stuff.

Back in trail shoes, I just had to descent 3000+ feet to the car now. Uff...! Indeed, it was long, and I was really feeling it in the last mile to the car. I stopped in a shady lawn beneath some trees near a junction and just lay down a while. The last half mile felt slow, but soon I reached the truck, mind reeling with the largeness of the day.

Thanks to God, the good weather, and the mountain. A little wind wasn't so bad, because everything else was perfect.

Oh! At the truck I discovered I didn't lose my glove...it was just in an odd place in the pack where I didn't expect it. Probably pushed there during the scramble to make adjustments in the windy little summit building. So that's good.

Two rams spy on me

A look at the valley I descended

Leaving the high, snowy country

Friendly country with a nice trail, ah!