Tongva Peak via Beaudry Motorway

View of the Verdugo and San Gabriel Mountains from Tongva Peak

6.1 miles loop, 1400 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Easy-Moderate
Access: Parking is along a residential street in a subdivision

Tongva Peak is the eastmost major peak in the Verdugo Mountains, a short urban mountain range just northeast of Glendale and Burbank, at the center of the Los Angeles metropolis. The Verdugos are not particularly tall and only slightly separated from the much larger and much more dramatic San Gabriel Range: thus, the Verdugos offer relatively easy hiking country to enjoy city views and views of the San Gabriels. Tongva Peak, which can be reached by hiking along the Beaudry Motorway, a former dirt road, is perhaps the easiest access to the good views of the Verdugos. As the hike follows a fairly wide road the entire way and elevation gain is substantial but spread out, this hike is doable by most reasonably fit people. However, do be prepared for the heat and the sun: we found ourselves sweating quite profusely and using plenty of sunscreen, even in February.

The trailhead is in an unconventional location: the hike starts in the middle of a subdivision in Glendale, near La Canada Flintridge. A friend and I hiked this trail in mid-February: we drove over from West Los Angeles, taking Highway 2 north from the downtown area towards Glendale and La Canada Flintridge. We left Highway 2 at the exit for Verdugo Blvd (21C), which is immediately before Highway 2 merges with the 210. There is an earlier exit for Verdugo Rd much further south near downtown Glendale; be sure that you don't exit there. After coming off the ramp, we turn lefted onto Verdugo Blvd and follow it for a couple of blocks to Verdugo Rd; we then turned left onto Verdugo Rd and followed it south a few blocks past the Oakmont Country Club to Canada Blvd. We followed Canada Blvd to the right, then immediately made a right onto Country Club Drive. We followed Country Club Drive for a half mile and then turned left onto Beaudry Blvd, which led into a residential neighborhood. About a third of a mile down Beaudry Blvd, the road makes wide right turn and begins to head uphill. A narrow paved road heads off to the left at the turn: this is the trailhead. We parked on the side of the street nearby.

The beginning of the hike was not terribly promising. The fire road began near a small concrete dam, then paralleled a small, dried-up reservoir and became a dirt road after passing a gate. The wideness of the trail (fire road) here makes the trail easy to follow and comfortable to hike on, but makes the experience distinctly non-wild, though there isn't much wild about an urban mountain range in the middle of the second largest metropolitan area in the country anyway.

Past the end of the reservoir, the fire road made a few turns into a wooded area and offered its first view of the communication towers atop Tongva Peak itself. Soon after, we came to the junction of the North and South Beaudry fire roads. We followed North Beaudry, which was the main branch of the trail, off to the right, starting an ascent up a wooded canyon.

View from the fire road at the bottom of the canyon towards Tongva Peak

The tree cover didn't last for too long: the fire road was soon out on the open north slope of the Verdugos. On the bright side, we now had good views looking back towards the San Gabriel Range, including Strawberry Peak, one of the more prominent mountains visible. On the brighter side, the sun was bearing down on us with its full afternoon heat. Although the trail was a little too warm for us, even in February, it seemed to be roughly the right temperature for a number of lizards that we spotted alongside the trail.

Lizard

The first three miles along the North Beaudry Fire Road were all uphill. The trail wound in and out of gullies in the side of Tongva Peak, alternating between short stretches of shade and long exposed stretches with views first of the canyon itself and later of the San Rafael Hills across Highway 2 and of the San Gabriels and La Canada Flintridge. The trail passed directly downhill of the summit communications towers and began to wrap around the mountain, meeting the crest of the Verdugos at a saddle on the far side of Tongva Peak. The 1400 feet or so ascent to reach the saddle was fairly significant but was spread out over 3 miles; the fire road itself climbed uphill at a steady but not too steep grade.

San Rafael Hills

San Gabriels from Beaudry Motorway

At the saddle, the North Beaudry Fire Road connected with the Verdugo Motorway, which followed the crest of the Verdugos towards the northwest. We turned left here and instead followed the South Beaudry Fire Road a short distance to the summit of Tongva Peak. The summit was topped with a wide array of communications towers. We walked past the first section of the towers to the point where the road began heading downhill again. Here, an unmarked dirt trail branched off to the right, following the edge of the fence surrounding the towers before coming to a bench and a magnificent viewpoint. Here, the Verdugos seemed like an island in a sea of sprawl: Los Angeles and its attendant cities stretched out in all directions. Directly below, we could see Glendale, Burbank, and the San Fernando Valley. The Santa Monica Mountains and the peaks of Griffith Park appeared as a reef in an ocean of neatly arranged grid. Yet the full extent of the metropolis was outside of our view: the smog, that exhalation of 22 million people living in the twenty-first century, engulfed the distant views.

Smog above the San Fernando Valley

Closer in, we saw some of the taller peaks of the Verdugos to the northwest. Just to the north was Verdugo Peak: we could see the Verdugo Motorway winding its way along the crest of the range towards that peak. Roads and power lines dotted the lower slopes of the range, reminding us that we were still deep in an urban setting.

Verdugo Mountains

Tongva Peak derives its name from the Tongva people, who lived in the Los Angeles Basin at the time of European colonization of the region.

After spending a while on the summit, we headed back to the South Beaudry Fire Road and continued to follow it to the southeast (right turn from the summit). The hike was more or less all downhill from that point: the fire road generally followed the ridge crest and climbed a slight bit when it approached Mount Thom. At a saddle just before reaching Mount Thom, the South Beaudry Road met up with the Las Flores Motorway. We stayed left to stay on the Beaudry Motorway. The road skipped by the summit of Mount Thom but continued to offer views once it returned to following the Verdugo crest.

After passing Mount Thom, the road made a slight turn towards the east. This turn put the San Gabriels front and center in our vision as we descended. The late day lighting accentuated the shadows cast by each fractal ridge in the range, casting a beautiful pattern of light and dark on the mountains. Strawberry Peak and San Gabriel Peak dominated the view. Far below, the houses and shopping outlets of La Canada Flintridge escaped the rays of the late day sun.

Sunset glow on the San Gabriels

Views of downtown LA also improved. Earlier in the day, the downtown skyline had more or less been engulfed by the smog, but smog conditions were changing enough in the late day that the US Bank Tower and its attendant skyscrapers reemerged. On the horizon, the hills of Palos Verdes rose above the low-lying haze.

Downtown LA in the evening light

The hike back from the top on the South Beaudry Motorway was about 3 miles. The road followed the ridgeline for most of the way until the last half-mile, when the trail turned around the ridge and began to drop along the north side of the ridge. Soon, we were back at the junction of the North and South Beaudry roads; here, we turned right and hurried back to our car before dusk settled.

This was an enjoyable hike with stellar views of the San Gabriel Mountains. This certainly isn't for anyone who is looking for wilderness: it's hard to imagine a mountain range more engulfed in an urban setting. However, if you live in LA, there's little reason that you shouldn't check out this fun peak on a fairly easy hike.

Sunol Regional Wilderness

Sunol Regional Wilderness

8 miles loop, 2150 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate
Access: $5 per car entrance fee for Sunol Regional Wilderness

Sunol Regional Wilderness is a brilliant tract of East Bay countryside less than an hour from San Francisco or San Jose. In the park's rolling, oak-studded hills and verdant canyons, it's easy to forget that Silicon Valley and the bustle of SoMa aren't far off; with few exceptions, the views along this hike are confined to the green countryside of Sunol, with little hint of the metropolis just miles away. There are almost continuous views on this hike, which visits the summit of cliff-lined Flag Hill before following the open ridgeline of Vista Grande and visiting the open slopes of Cerro Este. The hike ends by visiting the pretty gorge at Little Yosemite before returning to the visitor center at the base of Flag Hill. While this certainly isn't a must-hike, visiting the many ridges of the Sunol Wilderness can make for a fun day with lots of views away from the crowds of Mount Tam or Mission Peak. The park provides a good map that makes finding your way on this loop quite easy.

I hiked this trail on a warm, beautiful January day with totally clear blue skies. I left San Francisco with my good friend from high school and college in the morning, with far-reaching, smog-less views as we crossed the Bay Bridge. Across the bay, we took I-580 east past Castro Valley and across the mountains to the junction with I-680, which we followed south to exit 21A for Sunol and Calaveras Road. We followed Calaveras Road south for a few miles until we reached Geary Road, which we turned left onto and followed to the park. We paid the $5 entrance fee and met up at the park with a former roommate who now attended Stanford, who had come with one of his friends.

The four of us set out on the hike by crossing the bone-dry Alameda Creek on a bridge next to the Visitor Center. We then headed left, following the Flag Hill Trail a quarter mile past the junction for the Shady Glen Trail. The trail then began a fairly steep and aggressive ascent up Flag Hill. Early on, we hiked past beautiful, gnarled old oaks growing amidst the verdant meadows. Flag Hill itself soon came into sight, its cliff-hemmed summit resembling ramparts of some old castle.

Sunol Regional Wilderness

Flag Hill

As we headed uphill, we passed occasional fences that ran across the hillside. We assumed that these were for the many cows in the park, some of which we could already see in the distance.

Further uphill, the trees faded away and the landscape was dominated by grass and shrubs that had assumed their winter green on hills that would turn to yellow and brown by summer. The views improved dramatically as well: behind us, we could see the parking lot and a growing portion of the rolling hills, while to the east we could see the rounded summits of Cerro Este.

Ascending Flag Hill

After a strong push and a thousand feet of ascent in a mile from the bottom of the valley, we reached the top of Flag Hill. The trail looped to the east around the hill's dramatic ramparts before reaching the small mountain's flat top. At the summit, views to the north opened up: in the far distance, we could see the two peaks of Mount Diablo and the twin summits of the Maguire Peaks. To the west, we could see communications towers rising from the summit of Mission Peak.

We enjoyed the view at the top for a while. Even though this hike visited many ridges, Flag Hill was the only actual summit on the route, making its 360-degree view especially worthwhile.

From the summit, we took the Flag Hill Road north and east down towards the saddle between the hill and Vista Grande. This wide trail made a curving switchback down the east side of Flag Hill. On our way down to the saddle, we passed a picturesque pond set in a small basin, backed by the Maguire Peaks.

Maguire Peaks and a pond on the slopes of Flag Hill

We reached the saddle about three-quarters of a mile from the summit of Flag Hill and 2 miles from the start of the hike. The saddle marked a four-way junction between the High Valley Road, the Flag Hill Road, and the Vista Grande Road. We headed directly across the intersection from the Flag Hill Road onto the Vista Grande Road. At the junction, there were a number of cows grazing next to the trail. We paused at a distance of a least fifty yards to photograph them, but this was apparently already too close for comfort for one of the cows, which glanced up at us and then began a steady trot towards us. We backed off; the cow went back to eating.

Cows

The Vista Grande Road quickly made its way up from the saddle to the ridgeline. The vista was indeed grande: this was perhaps the most scenic portion of trail on the hike. Early on the ascent along the ridgeline, there were great views to the north of Mount Diablo and the Maguire Peaks; further along the ascent, we looked behind our shoulder to pretty views of the ridgeline we had hiked up stretching towards Mission Peak. Cerro Este appeared as a hill of green velvet before us and below the ridge to the south we saw High Valley Camp and the Calaveras Reservoir.

On Vista Grande

High Valley Camp from Vista Grande

Vista Grande Trail

About three miles into the hike, we paused at a bench along the Vista Grande Trail to lunch and enjoy the sweeping the view of most of the Sunol Wilderness. "Wilderness" is a bit of a misnomer for this park: although Sunol is certainly less developed than Silicon Valley or the suburbia of East Bay, there are still structures built throughout the park and benches along road-width trails.

Past the bench, came to a junction with the Eagle View Trail. We took the right fork, which brought us onto the narrower, single-track Eagle View Trail heading south and east. This portion of trail was quite spectacular: the trail was set into a steep grassy slope with a drop-off to the right of the trail. As we hiked forward, we had continuously good views of Cerro Este. "Eagle View" was certainly appropriately named.

The Eagle View Trail dropped into a canyon as it approached the flanks of Cerro Este. Briefly leaving the grassy meadows, the trail entered a small gully lined with oaks and crossed the stream flowing through the canyon before climbing back out onto the grassy meadows along the west side of Cerro Este. At the junction with the Eagle View Road, we stayed on the left fork for the Eagle View Trail, which passed a number of pretty rock outcrops and continued along open slopes until reaching the Cave Rocks Road at about 4 miles from the trailhead.

On the Eagle View Trail

We took the right fork when the Eagle View Trail merged onto the Cave Rocks Road. The Cave Rocks Road followed the contours of Cerro Este, taking us away from the more exposed slopes with wider views. Along the way, we passed by another pond, some cows, and many solitary oak trees. After passing the pond, the trail started ascending more steadily once more. We noticed some odd terraced structures on the slopes of Cerro Este uphill of the trail and were unfortunately unable to learn where they originated.

Pond on Cave Rocks Road

Three-fifths of a mile after merging onto the Cave Rocks Road, the trail gained the ridgeline and joined the Cerro Este Trail. At about 1700 feet above sea level, this junction, although not a summit, was the highest point of the hike. We could see green hills stretching out in all directions, including some more heavily forested mountains to the east that we had not seen previously that day. Far off to the west, we could see the mountains running along the peninsula as well as San Francisco Bay itself; farther to the north and very far in the distance, we could make out the skyline of San Francisco itself, with the Transamerica Pyramid, the Coit Tower, and the Bay Bridge all identifiable.

San Francisco from Cerro Este Road

The ridgeline was quite windy, so after stopping briefly for photos we began following the Cerro Este Road downhill. This trail continued along the ridge, dropping gradually as it passed a beautiful lone oak tree and then a number of small ponds, each of which hosted a number of thirsty cows. Although the views gradually diminished as we headed downhill, the scenery was consistently good as the trail remained more or less in the open and the path was constantly surrounded by green grass and picturesque trees.

Sunol countryside

Cows along the Cerro Este Road

We followed the trail downhill past the junctions for the McCorkle Trail and the Canyon View Trail. The further we hiked, the less far we could see: the Calaveras Reservoir was initially visible directly before us but gradually disappeared behind the hills as we dropped towards the bottom of the canyon along Alameda Creek. At one point, a large, exposed outcrop was visible just uphill of the trail, marking the most interesting rock feature on the hike since the cliffs on Flag Hill. After following the Cerro Este Road for almost two miles since joining that trail after the junction with Cave Rocks Road, we came to the Camp Ohlone Road at the bottom of the canyon; the total distance covered at this point was about 6.5 miles. We continued past the road, going downhill just a slight bit more to reach the creek inside Little Yosemite. Even with the qualifier "little," the name is a bit of a misnomer: the largest features in the canyon are rocks perhaps only tens of feet in height. Still, the rock eroded rock walls of the canyon were pretty and allowed for us to scramble downstream just a bit to a small waterfall and a set of shallow pools.

Little Yosemite

After a short stop at Little Yosemite, we headed back uphill along the Cerro Este Road about a fifth of a mile to the junction with the Canyon View Trail. We took the the Canyon View Trail west (to the left). The trail climbed a bit and followed the side of the hills fairly high above the canyon of Alameda Creek. After a short while of following the canyon, the trail swerved to the right and reentered the landscape of rolling hills. The cliffs rimming Flag Hill, our destination earlier in the day, appeared before us, indicating that our loop was approaching its end. After passing the McCorkle Trail once more, the trail made a final descent back to the side of Alameda Creek. We followed the trail along the creek past the Indian Joe Nature Trail until we reached the bridge near the visitor center where we had started the hike in the morning.

View into the canyon

After finishing our hike, we hurried back to San Francisco to catch a key ACC basketball game airing that afternoon.

Hiking in the Sunol is a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Although the scenery is rarely jaw-dropping, there are more or less continuous views along the trail and the countryside that the loop traverses is very pleasant. Bay Area hikers should certainly not miss out on hiking in the Sunol Wilderness; however, while visitors would likely find this hike enjoyable as well, the scenery here is certainly not exemplary in Northern California.

Hazel Falls and White Rocks

Hazel Falls (Cave Falls)

9 miles loop, 2000 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate, but bushwhacking and scrambling necessary to reach the views at White Rocks
Access: Trailhead off Skyline Drive (paved road), Shenandoah National Park entrance fee required

Here's a loop that offers a little bit of everything: a serving of history, a small waterfall, and for those who are up for it, a dab of bushwhacking enroute to a nice view. Hazel Country is a unique corner of Shenandoah: once of the more heavily settled areas of the park, it's now one of the more rarely visited areas, despite being just a stone's throw from US 211 and the Thornton Gap Entrance. Hazel Falls is the only location on this loop that gets a fair share of visitors: once you follow the trail out to the White Rocks and up along a stream in the shadow of Hazel Mountain, you enter some rarely visited terrain, shared only with the ha'nts of Hazel Country's past. The loop is moderate at its easiest but potentially more difficult during times of high water, as crossing the Hazel River is necessary.

I hiked this trail on a crisp, clear December day that marked my first return to the park in nearly two years, my longest absence from the park since age 12. I made my way out to the park from Fredericksburg on Route 3 west through Culpeper; turned right onto Main Street, drove through downtown Culpeper, then made a left onto US 522, which I followed to Sperryville. At Sperryville, I made a right turn immediately after entering the town to stay on 522 and then made a left at the junction with US 211 to head towards Thornton Gap. At the gap, I followed Skyline Drive south briefly to the parking area for Meadow Spring and Buck Hollow on the left (east) side of the drive near mile 34.

From the trailhead, I followed the yellow-blazed Hazel Mountain Trail downhill. The below-freezing temperatures of the night before had elevated the surface of the trail with needle ice, making the ground crunchy beneath my boots.

Needle ice

I passed by the trail down Buck Ridge about a half mile into the hike. At that junction, I stayed on the Hazel Mountain Trail. Soon enough, the rounded, forested top of Hazel Mountain itself was visible through the trees due to the lack of foliage. In another mile, I came to the junction with the White Rocks Trail. Here, I took the left fork and began to follow the White Rocks Trail, which wound through the forest for a bit before finding its way onto a forested ridge decked with mountain laurel.

After a mile of hiking on the White Rocks Trail, I came to the junction with the trail down to Hazel Falls and the cave. This spur trail, which headed south from the ridge down to the Hazel River, was the steepest part of the hike. Although only a fifth of a mile long, the spur trail quickly dropped almost 200 feet along a series of stone steps down to the side of the Hazel River, then followed the Hazel River briefly upstream past some small cascades to the falls and the cave.

Hazel Falls is also known as Cave Falls, due to its vicinity to a small cave near the Hazel River. The cave is interesting to briefly check out but is quite small. Anyone expecting Luray Caverns will be sorely disappointed: this cave is perhaps ten feet deep and can be explored thoroughly without a flashlight. Unlike Luray and Grand Caverns, the cave at Hazel Falls is not made of limestone, thus making it incapable of forming the great karst underground landscapes.

Inside the cave

Hazel Falls is just past the cave. This is a small waterfall, less than 20 feet tall, but the drop is pretty and fairly photogenic. A few icicles still hung off the sides of the rock walls near the waterfall: the sheltered position of the falls had prevented sunlight from reaching it for most of the day.

Hazel Falls

Many hikers visit Hazel Falls as a day hike and then return directly to the trailhead. A much better option for those with a bit more stamina and decent experience with river crossings and bushwhacking is to continue onwards along the White Rocks Trail and then to return via the Hazel River and Hazel Mountain Trails.

Just past the junction with the trail to Hazel Falls, the White Rocks Trail passes the first set of rock outcrops, which lie far right of the trail and offer no views. The trail then descends to a saddle before visiting a series of four small summits. The first summit has no real views to speak of: I could see through the trees to Mary's Rock and Oventop at points, but these views would be obscured by foliage in summer. While approaching the second summit, I could already tell there would be better views: to the left of the trail, there was a small clearing with lower vegetation. While the views from the trails were still poor, there was less dense foliage obscuring the peaks here than from the first summit.

The best views, however, weren't on the trail. To the right of the trail, just short of the second summit, I could make out a set of fairly prominent rocks separated from the trail itself by an abundance of underbrush. At no point did I see a noticeable path through the underbrush, so at the far end of the set of rocks (the eastern end), I bushwhacked through the thorns and laurel until I reached the rocks; circling around the rocks, I found one spot where an easy scramble brought me to the top of the White Rocks.

The views were fairly remarkable when I considered the fact that most other hike descriptions rate this hike as having little or no views. The summit of the rocks offered a clear view from Hazel Mountain to Oventop, encompassing the summits of the Pinnacle, Mary's Rock, and Pass Mountain in between.

Mary's Rock and the Pinnacle from White Rocks

From the top of the White Rocks, I noticed a few more granite outcrops facing south, projecting over the hollow of the Hazel River. I bushwhacked a few yards over to those rocks and found a nice view of Hazel Country and the Piedmont.

View of Hazel Country from White Rocks

The third bump along the White Rocks ridge provided the only decent view along the trail itself. From the top of this bump, a few rocks on the left side of the trail provided a peek of Oventop, Mt. Marshall, the Peak, and the Piedmont around Sperryville.

Piedmont and the Peak

I crossed a last hump along the White Rocks Ridge before descending to a deep saddle in the ridge and then beginning a steep descent down the west side of the ridge. This portion of the trail was often quite slippery due to the copious amount of fallen leaves that remained. The leaves across the trail remained uncompacted, suggesting that few hikers ventured to this point along the White Rocks Trail. When I reached the bottom of the descent, I met up again with the Hazel River, which at this point was a substantially stronger and wider stream.

Hazel River

Crossing this river was slightly difficult but would have been much more so if I had not brought poles: the flow was strong enough that rock-hopping was not an option and the day was cold enough that fording by crossing through the river would be unpleasant as well. A narrow and slightly rotten log had been positioned to allow hikers to cross; however, the log was a bit slippery, making crossing on the log nonideal. Luckily, I was able to cross without getting wet by supporting myself across the log with my poles. On the other side, I met pole-less hikers trying to cross the other direction, who were the first other people I had seen that day since leaving the trailhead.

After crossing the river, I continued following the White Rocks, which now paralleled the Hazel River. In a few hundred yards, the trail crossed over a small feeder stream and then came to a junction with the Hazel River Trail. I followed the Hazel River Trail to the right rather than the left, which took me away from rather than towards the river.

The Hazel River trail began a steady but never steep ascent through a small hollow under the shadow of Hazel Mountain. The trail was very clearly a road built and used by the mountain folk who lived in Hazel Country: it was quite wide and had extremely sturdy rock work in many spots. After a short period of ascent, I followed the trail across the stream in this hollow. A little ways past the the stream crossing, I noticed a chimney in a small flat spot below the trail to the left. I left the trail and bushwhacked my way about half a hundred meters or so over to the remnants of a former cabin in Hazel Country.

In his guide to the park, Henry Heatwole described Hazel Country as a somewhat lawless and rough area. It's certainly much more quiet now. Saplings have taken root in the foundations of this homesite, sprouting where perhaps there once lived a mountaineer family, raising hogs and farming the steep slopes of the hollow. This homesite- along with the other former homesites in the park- has been abandoned for at least 80 years, since the park was established following the condemnation of the inhabitants of these hollows.

Former cabin off the Hazel River Trail

The remainder of the hike was fairly uneventful. The Hazel River Trail climbed out of the stream valley onto the upper slopes of Hazel Mountain, crossing a small saddle and passing through dense thickets of mountain laurel before descending to join the Hazel Mountain Trail. Most of the climb along this hike occurred between the junction of the White Rocks and Hazel River trails and the saddle on Hazel Mountain on the Hazel River Trail. Along the way, I met PATC members clearing some recent deadfall on the trail. At the junction with the Hazel Mountain Trail, I headed right, returning towards the trailhead.

The Hazel Mountain Trail was once a road as well and passed through an area frequented by former hollow folk; today, there are few traces of that history along this segment of trail. The trail crossed the Hazel River again, this time a much easier crossing at an upstream point along the river. Around this time, I ran into the group of hikers I had earlier met crossing the Hazel River on the White Rocks Trail: they were hiking the loop the other direction and had started from a trailhead off of Route 600 at the base of the Blue Ridge.

Looking at a map of my hike afterward, it appears that around this point I also passed a junction with the Catlett Mountain Connector Trail. This trail junction must have been somewhat easy to overlook as I blew straight past it without realizing its existence; luckily, I stayed on the Hazel Mountain Trail. I passed through quite a bit of mountain laurel along this part of the hike.

Mountain laurel on Hazel Mountain

After a final stream crossing, the Hazel Mountain Trail rejoined with the White Rocks Trail. From here, I hiked back along the way that I came that morning and ascended the final mile and a half back to the trailhead.

This is an enjoyable hike, but recommended only to those who are already fairly familiar with the park and want to explore some of its smaller pleasures. There are better views, more photogenic waterfalls, and better preserved homesites in this park. However, if you'd like to see Mary's Rock from a unique angle and to check out a tiny cave and gaze at a small cascade, this hike provides a good opportunity to do so. Other online hike descriptions recommend tackling this hike counterclockwise, rather than the clockwise description I've offered you. I think clockwise makes a little more sense: clockwise allows you to visit the more scenic spots of the hike earlier in your hike, making it less likely that one would run out of time to visit certain spots after having allotted too much time to earlier parts of the hike. Winter is a good season to attempt this hike if you plan to do any of the described bushwhacking, as the lack of foliage makes going through underbrush much easier.

Flattop Mountain to Andrews Glacier traverse

Longs, McHenry, Taylor from Hallett Peak

14 miles loop, 3500 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Strenuous, involves an off-trail route-finding and a hazardous traverse of an active glacier and heavy physical exertion at 12,000 feet above sea level.
Access: Paved road to trailhead; $20 Rocky Mountain National Park entrance fee

Autumn aspens, a waterfall, three alpine lakes, two glaciers, and two imposing summits along the Continental Divide: such a list would be an impressive resume for a week-long backpacking trip, but the spectacular Flattop Mountain to Andrews Glacier traverse (actually a loop) in Colorado's Rocky Mountain National Park packs all of these into a day's journey. The hike starts from Bear Lake, one of the park's most visited attractions, and ascends to the Continental Divide via the Flattop Mountain Trail. From the summit of Flattop Mountain, off-trail travel leads to the summit of imposing Hallett Peak and over to Andrews Pass. Andrews Glacier provides a spectacular though slightly treacherous descent down one of the larger active glaciers in the park to a valley of lakes, meadows, and forests.

I found this hike to be exhilarating. However, this is an extremely strenuous hike that is not recommended for anyone who lacks experience with long distances, significant wind exposure, off-trail route-finding, rock scrambling, and glacier travel. Hiking poles and traction devices are more or less essential for this hike: I crossed the Andrews Glacier with poles but no traction devices and highly regretted not bringing microspikes. Winds along this hike were extreme: I experienced gale force winds consistently above the tree line on the Continental Divide. Hikers who lack glacier experience but are familiar with off-trail route-finding can visit the summit of Hallett; hikers who lack both should stick to the Flattop Mountain Trail. Sufficient acclimatization is also important: the hike tops out at the summit of 12,720-foot Hallett Peak, an elevation high enough that altitude sickness is a real problem. Air pressure is low enough atop Hallett Peak that with each breath, you would inhale only two-thirds of the oxygen that you would at sea level.

I did this hike on the first day of autumn. I woke up to perfectly blue skies at the Moraine Park Campground, where I was staying, and quickly had breakfast and made the 20-minute drive to the trailhead. From the campground, the Bear Lake Trailhead can be accessed by driving the Bear Lake Road to its terminus; visitors coming from outside the park should look up directions from their starting point. I would recommend staying nearby, though: this hike took me 10 hours to complete and I felt as though I rushed through the last few miles, so you'll want as much daylight as you can get.

From the huge parking lot at Bear Lake, I followed the wide trail towards Bear Lake and Flattop Mountain, which immediately brought me to the shores of Bear Lake. Hallett Peak, one of my destinations for the day, rose above the lake and its shores lined with pine and aspen.

Bear Lake

I followed the right fork at the Bear Lake Loop junction, taking the loop counterclockwise in the direction of Flattop Mountain and Bierstadt Lake. After a short stretch of flat, wide trail following the lakeshore, I came to a junction with the trail towards Flattop Mountain and Bierstadt Lake; I took this fork, which branched off to the right and began to ascend. The next few hundred meters were brilliantly decorated with aspens lit brightly by the morning sun. Late September, it appears, is peak time for aspen color in the Colorado Rockies, something that I didn't initially realize when I booked my trip.

Aspen color near Bear Lake

After passing a few groves of aspens, the the trail delved back into the pine forest and in a few hundred more meters came to a junction with the trail to Flattop Mountain and Bierstadt Lake. The right fork led towards Bierstadt Lake; I took the left fork, which led towards Flattop. The trail began a steady but not terribly steep climb through the forest along a flat ridge that ran north of Bear Lake. About a mile in, the trail passed another junction for a turnoff towards Lake Helene and Cub Lake; here, I again took the left fork, which kept me on the path towards Flattop.

The ensuing section of trail through the forest was fairly uneventful: I followed the switchbacks up Flattop Mountain through the forest, with fairly few views. I had plenty of company: Flattop Mountain is the easiest access to the Continental Divide in the park after the road access at Milner Pass on Trail Ridge Road, so it is an understandably popular destination. After slogging up many forested switchbacks, the trees began to thin out. I came to a viewpoint of Dream Lake, which at this point was over a thousand feet below in Tyndall Gorge. Past the Dream Lake viewpoint, the trail came out into the alpine, with the remaining trees shaped into gnarled krummholz by the relentless wind. Here, the views became superb: I could look back to the east and see Bierstadt and Sprague Lakes and the smaller peaks of the park.

View towards Bierstadt Lake, Sprague Lake, and the foothills of the Rockies

Continuing on switchbacks through the tundra, the views only improved: Longs Peak, the sentinel of the Front Range and the tallest peak and only fourteener of the park, towered over Mills Lake and Glacier Gorge to the south. The barren brown slopes of the Mummy Range appeared to the north, as did the flat ridge of Trail Ridge Road.

Mummy Range views during the ascent up Flattop

A few switchbacks later, I came to a remarkable viewpoint over Emerald Lake. The lake glistened below, the sun's rays reflecting off the surface of the lake. The steep walls of Tyndall Gorge rose around it, with Hallett Peak and Flattop Mountain rising imposingly over the head of the canyon. The Diamond of Longs Peak towered off in the distance. Everywhere I looked, there were sheer walls and craggy rock.

Longs Peak; Emerald Lake nestled in Tyndall Gorge

The views weren't the only things becoming more incredible: the wind became stronger and stronger as well as I ascended towards the Continental Divide. As the switchbacks on the trail ended, giving way to a more straightforward ascent up the (comparatively) gentle slope of Flattop, the winds became almost unbearable. Ascending from the east meant hiking directly into the wind. A sustained gale whipped down the mountain, beating down at me and forcing me to rest often and seek shelter behind protruding rocks.

The elevation also started to get to me. At 12,000 feet, I found frequently found myself out of breath even after just a few steps uphill. When I saw a small windbreaking rock shelter jut short of the summit of Flattop, I paused for a long while not just to reduce my exposure to the wind, but also to recover from altitude-induced physiological changes.

A final push put me atop Flattop Mountain, about 4.5 miles and nearly three hours of climbing away from Bear Lake. Flattop is indeed flat: the summit is almost Iowa and it is nearly impossible to tell where the true high point lies. I rested near some rocks not far from the trail junction sign that I took to indicate the true summit. The view was actually less impressive than you would have expected for a spot on the Continental Divide: the flatness and broadness of the summit cuts out much of the view in each direction. The pyramidal summit of Hallett Peak did appear quite impressive just to the south.

Flattop Mountain, aptly named

The summit of Flattop is a good stopping point for those without off-trail experience.

I left the official trail at the summit of Flattop and began to follow a somewhat well-traveled path that led towards Hallett Peak. The path was decently well marked with cairns and stuck to the flat west slope of the mountain about fifty meters or so shy of the rim of Tyndall Gorge. Wanting to check out the view of the gorge, I left the trail when it was close to the gorge rim and walked over to the actual edge of the gorge. This spot was roughly at what could be considered the saddle between Flattop and Hallett- though it isn't much of a saddle as it is barely lower than the summit of Flattop.

From the edge of the gorge, there was an excellent view of Hallett Peak and the small, steep Tyndall Glacier that hung to its slopes. The Tyndall Glacier is one of a small number of glaciers in the park, which have been retreating rapidly. The Tyndall Glacier seemed to border on being just a permanent snowfield and just barely exhibited some glacial features: a single crevasse indicated that the ice was still massive enough to move. Looking towards the summit of Hallett, I could spot a few hikers making their way up the peak. Looking towards the east, there was a clear view down the jumbled mess of rocks that formed Tyndall Gorge. Dream Lake was visible in the forest; Emerald Lake was hidden behind the rocks of the upper part of the gorge.

Hallett Peak and Tyndall Glacier

Tyndall Gorge, view to Dream Lake

I returned to the cairn-marked route and began following it up the northwest side of Hallett Peak. The route soon headed into talus and became somewhat difficult to follow. I sometimes lost sight of the cairns; when this happened, I began scrambling up the talus in the general direction of Hallett's summit. The wind and the altitude made sure that I was cold and out of breath by the time I stumbled onto the summit. Luckily, a few wind-blocking rock shelters had been assembled, allowing me to duck behind a pile of rocks and escape the wind to eat my lunch.

I spent the next half hour on the summit, enjoying the sweeping 360-degree panorama. Hallett Park lies roughly at the center of the park and allows views of more or less the entire park. The southern view was the most dramatic: the sharp peaks of the Continental Divide and Longs Peak pierced the blue skies. To the west was the Gore Range and both Grand and Shadow Mountain Lakes; to the north, I could see the Never Summer Range, the Tyndall Glacier below, and the Mummy Range further back. The east was dotted with the small lakes on the east side of the park. Far off, the flatness of the Great Plains formed the eastern horizon.

Shadow and Grand Lakes from Hallett Peak

After lunch and many photos, I left the summit and the marked path. The next mile was entirely trail-free; I traveled cross country by navigating in the general direction of Andrews Pass, which was the second canyon heading south from Hallett Peak. I headed downhill first towards the head of Chaos Canyon, which lay directly south of Hallett. The descent was scenic, with views of Longs and Taylor Peaks, but also quite difficult: I had to scramble over many extremely rocky sections, limiting my overall travel speed to less than a mile per hour. Hikers lacking navigation skills, off-trail route-finding abilities, and experience with glacier travel should turn back at the summit of Hallett Peak towards Flattop and not attempt the descent through Andrews Pass and Andrews Glacier.

Approaching the saddle between Hallett and Otis peaks, I spotted a marmot chilling on a rock above Chaos Canyon. This was my only significant wildlife sighting on the hike.

Marmot!

A little ways past the marmot sighting, I made my way to the rim of Chaos Canyon, a wild gorge between Hallett and Otis Peaks. A sign at the rim of the canyon warned against descending, stating that the canyon was quite dangerous. Lake Haiyaha appeared at the mouth of the canyon as a sparkling sapphire jewel.

Chaos Canyon, with a view of Lake Haiyaha

From the rim of Chaos Canyon, I then headed towards Andrews Pass. Otis Peak separates Chaos Canyon from Andrews Pass and can be added to this hike for a third summit; since I was quite tired from the elevation, the scrambling, and the wind, I chose to skip it. In order to avoid an ascent of Otis Peak, I roughly followed the contour of the mountain around Otis from the rim of Chaos Canyon. This route proved to be quite rocky, but in my opinion was still the most appropriate of the possible routes to take. The elevation of both saddle points is roughly similar, so I arrived at Andrews Pass with relatively little elevation gain or loss.

Andrews Pass is a spectacular spot and marks the end of the traverse along the Continental Divide. Views from the pass to the west are good but not nearly as spectacular as those from the summit of Hallett. However, the view of Taylor Peak, which was now close by, was quite impressive, as was the view down the Andrews Glacier to Andrews Tarn and the Loch. I dropped down to just east of the pass to escape the wind and took a brief break to snack before embarking on the most treacherous leg of the hike.

Andrews Pass, looking down the glacier to Andrews Tarn

The Andrews Glacier is the second largest glacier in Rocky Mountain National Park after the Rowe Glacier in the Mummy Range. The glacier is quite active but runs down one of the gentler canyons cut into the Continental Divide, making it one of the easier routes to and from the Continental Divide. Crevasses cut through many parts of its surface, making travel on the glacier dangerous for anyone without appropriate gear and experience.

As glaciers are constantly changing, it's difficult to recommend an optimal route down the glacier. I started hiking down the glacier by following a bootpath down from a sign by the pass that advised that travel down the Andrews Glacier was only for those with proper experience. Getting onto the glacier was fairly easy for me, as there was no notable bergschrund. I began my descent down the center of the glacier but gradually cut south, meeting the lateral moraine just downhill of a set of massive crevasses. I glissaded down a stretch of dead ice at the bottom of the glacier to reach Andrews Tarn. The descent down the glacier took the good part of an hour.

Crevasse on Andrews Glacier

Massive crevasses along the south side of the Andrews Glacier

I stepped my way across some glacial alluvium and then scrambled along the south shore of Andrews Tarn to reach the downstream end of the lake, where I had a good view back up the Andrews Glacier. I also finally rejoined the trail here, ending the long off-trail segment of this hike.

Andrews Tarn and Glacier

The descent on the Andrews Glacier Trail from the tarn was very steep, very rocky, easy to lose, and generally quite difficult. The trail more or less plunges steeply a talus headwall at the head of Loch Vale to reach the meadows and forests below, requiring more scrambling the entire way. At times I found the cairns confusing to follow: it seemed for a while that the trail would head directly down into the basin at the base of the headwall, but I opted instead for the trail that continued to weave through the talus and headed east before dropping down to the forest below. The unpleasant descent was made slightly better by the good views of the Sharkstooth, a remarkable craggy spire on the east side of Taylor Peak.

The Sharkstooth, on the descent into Loch Vale

After reaching the forest, the next mile or so was a bit of a slog on a rocky, rough trail through the forest to the junction with the trail to Sky Pond. Here I turned left, following the stream further downhill through Loch Vale through a slightly nicer trail to the Loch. The Loch was a beautiful, tree-lined alpine lake surrounded by big, rocky mountains. From different viewpoints around the lake, I could see both Taylor Peak and the path of my descent down Andrews Glacier. As I was fairly tired by this point in the hike, I did minimal exploring before pressing onward, descending the good part of a mile from the lake down to the junction with the Glacier Gorge Trail.

The Loch

At the fourway intersection with the trails to Mill Lake and Lake Haiyaha, I headed straight along the trail towards the Glacier Gorge Trailhead. This trail was fairly flat and offered some nice views of the peaks and cliffs to the south. After a flat half mile, I came to another junction with a trail towards Longs Peak; here I took the left fork to continue on the trail towards the Glacier Gorge Trailhead.

This trail began descending and early on offered a viewpoint just off the trail of the valley around Bear Lake and groves of brightly colored aspens in the distance. As I descended further along the trail, I began to enter trailside groves of aspens that were brilliant when backlit by the late afternoon sun. A mile past the previous junction, I arrived at Alberta Falls, a sizable and pretty drop. Crowds of people- which had been notably absent since the summit of Flattop- reemerged here, with day trippers jostling for good viewpoints of the waterfall.

Alberta Falls

Past the waterfall, the trail featured a few more good views of the stream gorge downstream of the waterfall. The gentle descent down the wide trail continued to feature many beautifully colored aspens. Three-quarters of a mile from Alberta Falls, I came to a junction with trails leading to both the Bear Lake and Glacier Gorge Trailheads. I stayed left and headed towards Bear Lake. This trail required a final ascent along the last half-mile back to the parking area where I started.

The scenery on this hike was superb. However, finishing the whole loop and hiking the section between the summit of Flattop Mountain and Andrews Tarn requires appropriate gear and experience. Even the hike to the summit of Flattop Mountain is fairly strenuous, especially due to the high altitude. Hikers lacking experience with glacier travel or off-trail navigation can still enjoy some of the superb scenery from this route on either the moderate day hike to the Loch or the strenuous day hike to the summit of Flattop.