Order of Visit: High Point #24
Date Visited: September 29 & October 7, 2020 (it took me two separate attempts!)
Route Taken: Borah Peak Trail from the Borah Springs Campground – 8.5 miles round-trip
Type of Terrain: Streep, strenuous, with some semi-exposed Class 3-4 rock scrambling over Chicken Out Ridge. This trail steeply climbs up 5,200 vertical feet from the trailhead to the summit over a mere 4.25 miles!
Elevation: 12,662 feet
Ancestral Lands: Shoshone-Bannock
What’s in a name?
Idaho’s highest summit was nameless until 1934, when surveyors discovered that is was higher than Hyndman Peak (the highest point in Idaho’s Pioneer Mountains to the southwest).
Borah’s namesake, is William Edgar Borah (1865-1940), a prominent politician from Idaho who represented the state in the U.S. Senate for nearly three decades until he died in office at the age of 74.
Originally from Illinois, Borah had a colorful childhood, were he was expelled from school for hitching illegal rides on the Illinois Central train line, and ran away from home as a teenager to join an itinerant Shakespeare company.
In 1883, he moved west to Kansas to live with his sister and studied law at the University of Kansas. After a few years of practicing law, he decided to head west yet again, and set out for greater opportunities.
Borah landed in boomtown of Boise, Idaho, in 1890, the same year the state was admitted to the Union. Soon thereafter, he became active in both the law and local politics. His most notable trial was the prosecution of “Big Bill” Haywood, a union organizer charged with conspiracy to murder the state’s former Governor in 1905. Haywood was ultimately acquitted, due to the efforts of famed defense attorney Clarence Darrow, but the trial catapulted William Borah to national fame.
After taking his seat in the U.S. Senate in 1907, Borah earned a reputation was as a maverick and received the nickname, the “Lion of Idaho.” He was instrumental in advocating for the 17th Amendment to the U.S. constitution, which changed the procedure of electing U.S. Senators from the state legislature’s hands to a direct election by the populace.
Borah had Presidential aspirations too, but he lost the Republican nomination in 1936 (two years after the mountain was named in his honor).
Over the years, Borah Peak has been known by at least two other nicknames: Beauty Peak, and the local variant, Mount Borah.
TRIP SUMMARY – PART I
Borah Peak is not for the faint of heart!! But, since this was going to be the final peak I’d bag for the 2020 hiking season, I really wanted to end it on a high note. Summer was definitely over and I was getting ready to head back toward Oregon for the fall and winter holidays. As the family and I slowly meandered west, we decided to make two stops in Idaho. One in Twin Falls and one in Boise, either of which could be launching off points for Borah Peak if a good weather day emerged.
Things wouldn’t go exactly as planned though. I didn’t make it all the way to the summit on my first attempt. But rather than just writing about my second, successful climb on this blog, I want to be completely transparent. I’m providing both trip reports for Borah Peak for any one else contemplating this high point, and perhaps help you to avoid the same mistakes I made on my first attempt on September 29, 2020.
I started my initial trip from Twin Falls, Idaho, which meant a 150-mile drive to the trailhead. Rather than camping at the trailhead or getting a motel room in Mackay (the closest town to Borah Peak), I decided to drive out there early that morning before my hike. And so, I was up at an ungodly hour and loaded up with coffee and breakfast for the three-hour car ride.
Even though I was on paved highway the entire way, it was a long drive from Twin Falls, and I narrowly avoided hitting a deer standing in the road as I approached at 60 mph in the dark (yikes!). This route also took me past Craters of the Moon National Monument, but I didn’t see any of it because it was pitch black out when I zipped past. In fact, the only real advantage of this early morning drive was the gorgeous Idaho sunrise that I literally had to pull over to photograph because it was so stunning.
I made it to the Borah Peak trailhead a little after 8 am, and was super excited to get started. I knew this would be a challenging climb. Of all the state high points, it’s rated as the 6th most technical one due to the rock scrambling required to get over Chicken Out Ridge and the “snow bridge” (a short ridge covered with snow most of the year).
In addition, the trail to the summit gains a whopping 5,500 vertical feet in just 4 miles. Plus, it’s a high elevation summit that rests near 12,700 feet. So, all told, I knew this was going to be a doozy of high point to tackle from just about every perspective – its altitude, its physical demands, and its technical difficulty.
Despite the super steep incline of the trail, I made it above treeline in about 90 minutes. That put me two miles into the 4.2-mile journey. The next mile was exposed and rocky as it continued to climb upward to Chicken Out Ridge. By now I could see the semicircular route along the ridge as it curved ahead of me and around to the left toward the summit of Borah Peak.
I’ll admit, I wasn’t particularly worried about the upcoming scramble to get over Chicken Out Ridge. I knew it would be exposed and would require some extra focus. But I’ve done plenty of scrambling. So it should be a piece of cake, right?
I slowly trudged forward until I got to the base of the ridge, then I tucked my trekking poles away so my hands would be free to grab onto the rocks. Unfortunately, this was also near the time that any semblance of trail disappeared. I had to scramble my way up the boulders and hope the route ahead was apparent.
As I climbed higher and higher, the sheer drop off on ether side of the ridge really started to get to me. It was a loooooong way down if I took a misstep. Plus I was out here completely on my own. I’d seen one other car parked at the trailhead, but I still hadn’t spotted a soul on this mountain.
I tried to remain completely focused on the rocks in front of me while climbing higher, but I’ll admit that fear was starting to creep in. It had only been a few weeks since my catastrophic experience in the Uinta Mountains. Was I really ready for this? Heck, I didn’t even have my feel of touch completely back in all my fingertips yet.
I tried to push fear from my mind as I climbed higher. But then the snow and ice started to appear and it began to mess with my mind. As I continued up the slope, a pit was deepening in my stomach and growing with each step up. I began to wonder if this was a smart thing to be doing solo. Heck, was I even on the right path up here?
I pulled out my phone to check my location. It appeared that I was where I was supposed to be, but it still didn’t feel right. I was desperately wishing there was some sort of marker or blaze to follow to confirm I’m taking the correct route up these rocks.
Then I met a smooth rock slab that didn’t have much of a hand hold, and I froze. If I got up to the top of that slab and it turned out to be the wrong way up, I knew I’d have a really hard time getting back down without perilously slipping. Heck, even f I got up there and it was the correct route, I was still going to have a difficult time returning to safety on my return journey.
What did I want to do next? This situation had now crossed from discomfort to fear. And that’s not a good place to be when you’re on a mountain.
Let’s go ahead and pause here for a moment and discuss scrambling too. Climbers throw out phrases like “class 3 or “class 4” but, if you’re an ordinary hiker or highpointer with no climbing background, these terms can be confusing.
According to the Yosemite Decimal System, Class 3 includes easy to moderate rock and boulder climbing using your hands, with varying amounts of exposure. This is what most of us think about when we use the term “scrambling.”
Meanwhile, Class 4 is an in-between rating that involves steeper climbing, lots of exposure, and it’s something most novice rock climbers would opt to use a rope on due to the risk of long, potentially fatal falls.
Chicken Out Ridge definitely had sections that fit into this Class 4 realm. And if you paid close attention to that part of the definition that refers to “ropes and potentially fatal falls,” this was where my hesitation was coming in. Sure, plenty of nimble-footed highpointers have tackled Borah Peak without those safety precautions. But let’s be real. I’m not a particularly agile or fearless climber.
So, this section of the climb was giving me some serious pause – especially in light of all the rest of my situation. Let’s recap:
1. I’m still a bit gun shy about any risk because of my near catastrophic experience in the mountains less than a month ago.
2. I had no idea where the best or safest route was. It wasn’t readily apparent to my novice eyes, and no one else was out here on the mountain for me to follow.
3. There was several thousand feet of drop off on either side of me, which was starting to induce a bit of vertigo.
4. I didn’t have complete feeling in my fingertips due to some lingering effects of frost nip a few weeks ago – yet I definitely needed to rely on my sense of feel to traverse this ridge safely.
5. There was patchy snow and ice around me, which was making me even less sure of my safety.
As I sat there taking in my situation and debating what to do, I was torn. I didn’t climb 80% of the way up here just to turn around with my tail between my legs. But, I also didn’t climb this peak to get stranded or injured either.
As I took stock of all the things working against me, I swallowed my pride and made the incredibly difficult decision to turn around. I was feeling like I was in over my head – and you can’t just bluster your way through something technical in the outdoors. There’s simply too much at risk.
And so, with a heavy heart, I turned around and began my slow descent.
As I reached the rocky, exposed ridge about a half a mile lower, I saw another hiker coming my way. That’s when I started to get a bit excited and I started thinking perhaps this was an opportunity for a second summit bid.
Maybe I could join forces with him, and we could make another attempt together. Was this my chance for redemption?
As the hiker approached, he shielded his eyes from the sun and pointed to the right. “Is that the top of the mountain?” he asked. As I turned to see where he was pointing, his finger was aimed 180 degrees off. Borah was to his direct left. Yet, he was pointing to a completely separate series of peaks to his right. He had no clue which summit he was even climbing toward.
Nope. This dude was not a reliable companion who’s ready to lead the way. I was better off heading down and calling it a day.
And so I continued down the super steep descent to get off the mountain. My toes kept bouncing up against the front of my shoes, and I had to resort to side-stepping to give my knees a rest on the extreme downhill. Thank goodness I brought trekking poles, because it was brutal. My poor calves and quads would definitely be feeling this hike in a day or two!
Once I got back to the car, I was shuffling through a bunch of emotions. Foremost of these was the sheer disappointment in not reaching my goal. But it was also offset by some comfort in knowing I had the wisdom and maturity to know when to turn back. Then there was the sadness that I would be ending my 2020 hiking season on yet another failure.
I really tried to revel in the relief that I hadn’t taken any risks that might have left me stranded in a perilous situation, and there was always next year… But, it’s fair to say, I was an intense mess of feelings on that three-hour ride back to Twin Falls.
TRIP SUMMARY – PART II
Over the next few days, I had a lot of time to think about this failure. Where did I go wrong? What should I have done differently? I kept turning this problem over and over in my head. In the end, I resolved that I probably wouldn’t ever feel safe on Chicken Out Ridge unless I was up there with someone else. And I probably would feel even better if we had a rope to tie into also. And that suddenly sparked an idea!
I knew I was going to need to go with other hikers and/or an experienced guide when I attempted the five most technical state high point climbs (i.e., Denali, Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainier, Granite Peak, and Garnett Peak). So why not go ahead and do that same thing for the 6th most technical peak too?
And with that new thought, I started to do a bit of research. Were there any local guides in the area willing to lead climbs up Borah Peak? Could you do a one-on-one climb or did it require a group? Was it even possible to find someone this late in the season, or did I need to wait until 2021?
After a bit of digging, I stumbled upon Sawtooth Mountain Guides, the only AMGA-accredited guide service in Idaho. After some back-and-forth about their availability during my narrow time in Idaho, I booked a guided trip up Borah Peak on my last day in the state, October 7th. As an added bonus, my guide would be Sara Lundy, one of the co-owners of SMG, who’s also a pro-ski guide, pro-climbing guide, and all-around badass. With her by my side, I was feeling really good about a return trip.
Sara said she wanted to get an early start, so we planned to meet at the trailhead at 4:30 am. My family and I had since moved up to Boise (which is 100 miles further away than Twin Falls), so I opted to drive out to the trailhead the evening before the hike and camp at the Borah Campground.
My morning meet up with Sara went exactly as planned, and we were on the trail by 5 am. The two of us talked the entire way up the trail in the dark and found we were making excellent time. In fact, we actually needed to slow down a bit if we wanted to hit Chicken Out Ridge after sunrise.
I’m not sure if the ascent was easier because we were having such a great conversation on the way up, or if it was the dark (which always dials back the mental fatigue as it obscures the difficulties ahead). Whatever it was, it worked. I was feeling great!!
When we got to the beginning of Chicken Out Ridge, we stopped to don our helmets and climbing harness as the sun rose around us. The mountains were simply breathtaking in those moments, and I just felt confident that I was going to succeed this time around.
The plan was for Sara to belay me on all the climbs. This essentially meant that I would be attached to her at all times, providing me with the feeling of security on every section. She’d climb up above me, then use the opposite side of the boulders to secure the rope as I scrambled up to her position.
This climbing technique slowed our ascent significantly, but it also meant I had a safety net. If I slipped, she could always counterbalance me on the opposite side of the rocks.
It’s amazing how simply following Sara’s route added 100% more confidence to my ascent. I no longer even noticed the steep drops on either side. I was completely focused on just climbing up (or down) to where she wanted me to go. She never even had to assist me with tension on the rope or truly belay me. But, just knowing it was a possibility – if I needed it – improved my entire outlook on Chicken Out Ridge.
Before I knew it, we were coming to the end of Chicken Out Ridge and climbing down the final rock descent. Holy cow! I did it. When we got to the “snow bridge” section, there was no more snow (at least on the top of the ridge where we had to walk) and the ridge was much, much shorter than I’d anticipated. I made it through this gauntlet intact and I was ready to celebrate.
As we took off our helmets and harness, and pulled out trekking poles back out, I knew I shouldn’t get too sure of myself just yet. We still had the strenuous hike to the summit ahead. And that would be no easy challenge.
The final bit this trail was at least as difficult as the rock scramble on Chicken Out Ridge. It wasn’t technically difficult. But it was just a long slog, at high elevation, and on loose rocks and talus. As we rounded the final turn, Sara had the grace to switch positions with me so I could summit first (man, she’s classy!) and soon we were on the roof of Idaho!
The views from the summit were truly stunning that morning. The backdrop of mountains to our east, plus the alpine lakes on the opposite side of the mountain were absolutely worth the trip. I’m so glad I didn’t have to wait until 2021 to see these views!!
After locating the green ammo can on the summit and signing the highpointer’s log, I discovered a PVC pipe tube holding a fabric flag. Since there was no actual sign up there, this was the perfect chance to commemorate the summit from the best possible vantage point.
Sara made sure to get the perfect angle with the mountains as a backdrop. You can’t really tell here, but I’m smiling ear-to-ear in this summit photo!
After a quick snack break and a few swigs from my celebratory Diet Dr. Pepper, it was time to head back down. We were only halfway done with this mountain. I still needed to tackle Chicken Out Ridge one more time in reverse!
The descent from the summit on the rocks and talus was as steep as I expected, but I managed to stay upright the entire time. And when we got back to the ledge just before the snow bridge, it was time to collapse our trekking poles once again and put our climbing harnesses back on.
Throughout our initial climb to the summit, Sara kept telling me how good I was doing on the rocks and insisting that I didn’t really need her out there. Although this narrative boosted my confidence, I was pretty sure she that was part of her job. Keep the clients focused on how well they are doing and they won’t freak out on you, right?
But, on the way back down, I knew she really did believe I had the skills to tackle this scramble on my own. That’s because she did something I never expected. She gave me the option to clip back onto the belay rope or just follow her lead.
After a mere second of hesitation, I decided I could definitely do this. I’d wear the harness just in case I chickened out and wanted to clip into the rope. But, I was now pretty confident that I could do this climb solo. Sure, there were still some “airy” sections where I felt super exposed, but I just knew in my heart that I could do it.
And sure enough, I did!! When we got back to the same spot where I’d turned around last week, I knew I was gold. I’d already done all of this route. I could totally make it back down without any assistance.
Hot damn! I really did it! I don’t even have words to describe how awesome it felt to scramble along the entire return trip on Chicken Out Ridge without needlessly freaking out about where I had what it took. I had my mojo back!!!
Once we returned to back the actual trail again, all that was left was the three-mile hike back down to the trailhead. I knew from my prior trip out here last week that it would be steep on moderately painful, but I didn’t even care. I was flying high on the adrenaline from summiting Borah Peak!
Sara and I continued to chat all the way down, and I couldn’t help feeling super grateful for her support. I was looking for a guide, and yet I got so much more. By the time we reached the trailhead, I felt like I had a friend too.
All told, it only took us 8.5 hours to do the entire circuit round-trip. Not too shabby. But, it was never about how long this journey took. It was always just about getting to the summit safely. For that, I have to thank Sara. Not only did I get my 24th state high point, but I left it with some incredible memories!
DETAILS
When to Visit: Unless you are an experienced mountaineer, this is truly a summer season hike. Expect some snow, even in summer. This hike will take most visitors a full day (8-12 hours) due to its steep ascent and ascent.
What gear to bring: There is no potable water at the trailhead or along this route, so definitely bring several liters of water for this hike. You’ll also appreciate bringing trekking poles to assist with the descent – which is often above 30% slope and completely brutal on your joints! Consider packing durable gloves for the rock scramble and lots of clothing layers. Finally, if there’s any snow still on the mountains during your trip, an ice axe and microspikes are highly recommended.
Getting There: Borah Peak is located approximately 130 miles north of Potcatello, Idaho. If you are coming from the south (i.e., Boise, Twin Falls, or Pocatello), you’ll take U.S. Highway 93 toward Mackay, Idaho. Continue 20 more miles north of Mackay, and just beyond milepost 129, you’ll turn right onto a well-marked BLM access road for Borah Peak. The trailhead is another 3 miles down the dirt access road near the Borah Campground.
Entrance Fees: None. However, there is a $5 camping fee (paid to a metal drop box near the pit toilets) if you choose to stay at the Borah Campground overnight before your hike. The campground only has five rustic campsites – consisting of a flat tent spot, fire pit, and picnic table at each one.
Parking: Visitors can park right at the Borah Peak Trailhead. This is a dirt parking lot just beyond the Borah Campground that’s big enough for about 20 cars. There’s also a pit toilet near the trailhead and campground, but no potable water. So make sure to plan ahead.
Guide: Hundred of climbers successfully tackle Borah Peak each year, and most of them do it without any sort of guide of safety gear. That said, there’s probably an equally high number of people who turn back around at Chicken Out Ridge, thereby giving this terrain feature such a vivid and ominous name. Hiring a mountain guide to assist you in safely traversing Chicken Out Ridge and the accompanying “snow bridge” is an option if you have any concerns about your technical climbing skills, the safety of the knife’s edge, or you are simply more risk adverse. I used Sawtooth Mountain Guides in Stanley, Idaho, and I was truly satisfied with my experience.
Bonus: If you’re traveling to Borah Peak from Twin Falls or Boise, your route will take you right past Craters of the Moon National Monument, showing the immense volcanic history of this region. Craters of the Moon has vast lava fields, and one of the largest basalt cinder cones in the world. Yet this this moon-like terrain isn’t completely sparse or devoid of life. It’s also occasionally home to bighorn sheep and grizzly bears!
Resources:
- Climbing Idaho’s Borah Peak (Idaho Statesman)
- A Beginner’s Guide to Climbing Mt. Borah (Visit Idaho)
- Borah Peak (Summit Post)
- Sawtooth Mountain Guides (the guide service I used)