Timpooneke Trail: Part II

After the Great Basin, it's goodbye trees and hello rocks, so our pictures are about to get distinctly less green and more grey. The trail sweeps through the basin full of wildflowers, headed for the Timpanogos Saddle. Along the way, Drew found an abandoned golf club that someone must have been using as a walking stick; you can see him ceremoniously using it as a marching baton below. He took it all the way up the mountain, but it was eventually sacrificed to a snowfield - more on that later.

As we got closer to the saddle, we saw a big band of mountain goats. I remember seeing a few when I did this hike before, but nowhere near this many. I read that nannies (the females) live with the young goats in groups of up to 50, while billies (the males) tend to be loners; looks like we witnessed girls' day out. 

After the goats, we saw another group of ungulates: horses. A very long, impassioned discussion took place in the car on the way to the trailhead about whether or not horses could handle this trail. Jaimie and her confidence in the abilities of horses were vindicated when we saw these guys hanging out.

After more climbing, we finally made it to Timp Saddle. The view hits you suddenly, and it's nothing short of spectacular. Barring smoggy haze, you can see for miles and miles in all directions, and we stopped for a little while to take it all in. It's not uncommon to see people napping here; no thanks. While beautiful, it's still a precipice - a very high, rocky one.

Beyond the saddle, hiking quickly turns into rock climbing. The trail gets steeper - practically vertical in some places - and signs of plant and animal life all but disappear. It's hard to forget during this part of the trail that mountains are the earth's crust folding in on itself.

I said plant and animal life vanish, but some of my favorite organisms on earth - lichens (which are neither plant nor animal) - flourish up here. They're a partnership of fungus and algae - the fungus provides the shelter, the algae makes the food - and I think they're both amazing (they grow in some of the most hostile places) and pretty (they come in all sorts of colors, shapes, and sizes). These might be some of my favorite pictures from the day.

Although the hiking gets a little gruesome, the views remain phenomenal. This leg of the trail was definitely a test of any lingering fear of heights we might have.

After many, many switchbacks through what seemed like endless rock fields, the peak finally came into view.

We pushed through the last few yards, side-stepping all of the people coming back down (it was a busy day, and crowds are not cool on a teeny little mountain top) and finally reached destination: Mt. Timpanogos. There is an old survey station at the very top that houses a triangulation point (a geographic point of reference with known coordinates and elevation). This is how you know you've arrived.

The problem with mountains is that what goes up must come down.
Up next: our descent.