Francs Peak, Absaroka Range, Wyoming (7-15-20) – Part 2: HP12064 to the Summit!

Part 2 of Day 6 of Lupe’s 2nd summer of 2020 Dingo Vacation to Wyoming & Utah!

7-15-20, 1:15 PM, 0.25 mile NNE of HP12064 – Heading N, Looper angled toward the E side of the vast, featureless ridge before her.  The gradual slope higher was a relief for SPHP after the relentless, steep march up the Meadow Creek valley.  Making good time now, without getting totally worn out in the process, or at least not much more worn out than SPHP already was.

So where are the roaming herds of grizzlies chasing butterflies, SPHP?  They’re harder to spot up here than I would have thought.

No clue, oh sarcastic Dingo of mine!  And it’s moths, not butterflies they’re after.  Maybe it isn’t moth season yet?

And when would moth season be?  I hardly think grizzlies would be too picky over whether they’re gobbling up moths or butterflies.

Most of the trip reports I’ve seen are from August or early September.  Plenty of grizzlies digging up moths here then.  In any case, we ought to be fine.  If we do come to any grizzlies, we’ll spot them a mile away.

Didn’t take long to reach HP12260.  A couple of minor rock formations were up here, but that was about it.  The highest one was right along the E edge of the huge ridge, overlooking the Meadow Creek canyon.  The Carolina Dog scrambled up for a look at the route she’d taken up here.

Far to the S, the Wind River range was now in sight.  Loopster also had her best view yet of the many snow-capped peaks off to the W.

Of course, the most important view was the one of Loopster’s ultimate destination, Francs Peak (13,153 ft.), still more than 2 miles off to the NNW.  Much more of the vast ridge leading over to it could now be seen.  The gentle slopes and hills of the rocky plain before her contained no visible obstacles.  Not even a single grizzly bear, either.

Abandoning HP12260, Lupe gradually lost elevation as she continued N on the enormous, rocky plain.  Scattered groups of wildflowers added splashes of color to the otherwise drab terrain.  Way over near the low point of the saddle leading to Francs Peak, blue and white specks could be seen next to each other.  As Loop got closer, they proved to be tents.

Instead of heading straight for Francs Peak, the American Dingo went due N all the way to the edge of a gigantic deep canyon carved by the Francs Fork of the Greybull River.

After a good look at the impressive canyon, Lupe turned W toward the tents.  Upon arrival, no one appeared to be around, but when SPHP called out, someone laying in the blue tent answered.  He said he was from Montana and his buddy was from Idaho.  Yes, they’d come up the Meadow Creek trail, too, and had been hanging out up here for a couple of days now.

The man did not get up.  Nor did he say what their plans were, or exactly what they had been doing, but he did confirm that they’d seen a couple of grizzlies.  However, he was completely unconcerned.  The grizzlies are well-behaved here!  All graduates of an elite finishing school.  No reason to worry.

Well, there was certainly no reason to worry today.  Lupe hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a grizzly so far.

What are you saying, SPHP?  That isn’t true!  Don’t you remember that tuft of grizzly fur back down by the cabin?

Oh yeah, Loop!  You’re right!  That was hours ago.  Kind of forgot about that.  OK, so you did see hair of a grizzly, but you haven’t seen any hide.  How’s that?  Fair enough?

Yes, much better.  Please, try to keep your stories straight from now on.

The guy in the blue tent seemed disinclined to be too chatty.  After all, people often come to the mountains to get away from that sort of thing.  Not wanting to ruin the fabulous job of social distancing he was doing, Lupe and SPHP pressed on.

Not far from the tents, a long, skinny snowbank nestled at the bottom of the saddle leading to Francs Peak.  A stream trickling NE through it was clearly part of the headwaters of the Francs Fork of the Greybull River.  Lupe sank deep in the soft snow, but didn’t mind at all on a mid-July day.  Refreshing!

A much larger snowbank was on the E side of the next hill on the way to Francs Peak.  After her snowy frolic in the saddle, Lupe headed NW up to it.  Below this huge snowbank the ground was soft with moisture.  A carpet of light green moss prospered in runoff from the snowfield.

The lower portion of the snowbank was very steep.  Staying down in the mossy region, Lupe traveled N along its base.  At the far end, she turned NW again, beginning a snow climb up a ravine SW of HP12290.

The snowfield extended much farther N than evident from below.  Lupe climbed steadily as SPHP trudged along behind her.  As she passed W of HP12290, Francs Peak was in sight again.  Only a mile away now!

Loop eventually made it past the upper end of the snowfield.  Adopting a WNW course, she headed for the next saddle 0.5 mile N of HP12471.  Francs Peak was now only 0.75 mile farther, but still 800 feet higher.  Once the Carolina Dog crossed the saddle, she was going to face much steeper terrain the rest of the way, but it all still looked like a simple walk-up from here.

Along the way, SPHP noted a couple of use trails toward the lower E side of the ridge ahead.  These trails went steeply up to the ridgeline close to the cliffy edge of the canyon to the E, which was another branch of the Francs Fork canyon.

Naturally, Lupe and SPHP took advantage of these use trails, choosing the one farthest E.  Other than the usual struggle against gravity, there was nothing tricky about it.  Once up to the ridgeline, the route angled NW toward some big rock outcroppings, still a steady grind higher.

Staying a little toward the R (E) when she got to the rocks, Lupe climbed a lower, less formidable part of the formation band.  Once on top, a little dip led to a small flat region.  Beyond it was a narrow opening between more rocks that SPHP promptly dubbed Orange Lichen Pass.  Framed by these rugged rock formations, the already spectacular views were even more impressive.

500 feet and 0.5 mile yet to go!  From Orange Lichen Pass, most of it was a steep climb on scree slopes coming up Francs Peak’s winding SE ridge.  However, Loopster encountered no more large rock formations, and it wasn’t all endlessly up.  The ridge had some lumpiness to it, a couple of hills and saddles providing welcome respites along the way.

At last, the true summit came into view.  One more little hill and a minor saddle ahead, and Lupe would be on her way up to the summit ridge.  Wouldn’t be long then!

Wow!  It had been a long trek from the Wood River valley all the way up Meadow Creek canyon, then miles more along the vast barren ridges to get here, but Lupe had made it up onto the S end of the summit ridge.  A mere speck of a cairn, which hardly did Francs Peak (13,153 ft.) justice, was perched ahead at the true summit.

Though very tired, Lupe and SPHP marched on.  A SW wind swept over the ridge at 15-25 mph, but these last few minutes, surrounded on all sides by the glories of the Absaroka Range with success assured, were full of joy.

4:56 PM, 55ºF, 15-25 mph SW wind – Lupe sat by the paltry cairn at the true summit of Francs Peak (13,153 ft.), magnificence all around her.  The American Dingo didn’t care for the cool wind.  SPHP was layering up in agreement.  Nearby, one of the loose rocks bore a survey benchmark that said “FRANCS PK2 1954”.

Getting to Francs Peak seemed like a stupendous accomplishment, in fact, so stupendous that after an initial look around, resting felt like the best possible course of action.  Loop had a hard time getting comfortable on the rocks, but finally found a spot to her liking.  Facing into the wind, SPHP sat next to her, petting her soft fur.

So we didn’t get to see even a single grizzly, did we, SPHP?  Not exactly thick as flies, despite those trip reports you rely on, are they?  Heck, we haven’t even seen a moth!  Just that one butterfly.

No, not today.  But don’t give up!  We still have to go all the way back, you know.  Were you actually looking forward to seeing a bear?

Oh, the prospect of seeing packs of grizzlies did have a certain charm to it.  Can’t do that just anywhere.  Would have been exciting!  A real highlight of our Francs Peak tour!  Don’t you agree?

Packs of grizzlies?  Guess I’m sort of dull by nature.  Not sure I need that much excitement.  I’m plenty happy seeing all these splendid peaks!  And just think, today Carolina Dogs rule Francs Peak instead of grizzlies.  How do you like them apples?

Loopster did like the ring of that notion.  It was true, too!  Today, in fact at this very moment, an American Dingo ruled Francs Peak!

For half an hour, Lupe and SPHP stayed there, facing SW into the wind while contemplating a panorama of inspiring peaks.  Lupe had never been in the Absarokas before.  SPHP didn’t know the names of any of these fabulous mountains, but far, far away, ever so faint on the WSW horizon, was a readily recognizable mountain in another range.  Grand Teton (13,770 ft.), Wyoming’s most famous peak!

There was a lot more to see!  Batteries somewhat recharged by the rest break, Lupe and SPHP wandered the summit region, repeatedly pacing back and forth along the ridgeline while taking in the sights.

The Carolina Dog had a commanding view of Francs Peak’s NE ridge, the shorter route up for those who had 4WD, high clearance vehicles.

From the end of the short W ridge, Loopster could see row upon row of amazing peaks beyond the Greybull River valley.

To the N, the scene was a little less dramatic, rumpled valleys and lower peaks nearby, but higher stuff toward the horizon.  SPHP wondered if Trout Peak (12,244 ft.) was in view, and spotted a mountain that might have been it, but probably wasn’t.  The Beartooth Range in Montana was faintly seen on the very edge of vision.

Due E, beyond the enormous Francs Fork of the Greybull River canyon, barren looking Jojo Mountain (12,561 ft.) was in sight.  The Wyoming plains could be seen off in the distance.

Far to the SSE, a prominent peak stood out from all others in that general direction.  SPHP thought a topo map would make it easy to figure out what peak that was later on, but was never able to positively determine the true identity of “Mystery Mountain”.

Compared to the territory Lupe had seen N of Francs Peak, the valleys to the S were greener, and the mountains had more snow.  On the distant horizon, the mighty Wind River range could be made out.  Some of the jagged glacier-clad giants along the spine of the range sprang into focus with the help of the camera’s telephoto lens.

6:21 PM, Francs Peak – An hour and 25 minutes gone by.  Getting late.  The sad moment when the inevitable had to happen was here.  An hour and 25 minutes after arriving, Lupe once again stood in the wind at the summit of Francs Peak.  SPHP left.

The Carolina Dog was now alone, waiting for the signal to come.

The signal came.  The race was on.  The American Dingo streaked S along the ridgeline, overtaking SPHP in a flash.  However, the race was not against SPHP, but time, and it had just begun.

Atta girl, Looper!  Oh, it’s a long, long way!  We better make some tracks!  Gotta get back to the Meadow Creek trail before the light is gone.

Loopster paused at the S end of the summit ridge for a final look before beginning the steep descent in earnest.  Then it was down the scree slopes, across the saddles and minor hills along the SE ridge.  Every now and then, SPHP requested that she stop briefly for photos at especially scenic points.

The last photo came at Orange Lichen Pass, where Mystery Mountain could still be seen looming in the distance.  Not that there weren’t more wonderful moments during the return.  It was all beautiful, a fabulous evening trek buoyed by Lupe’s success at Francs Peak, and weighed down by ever increasing weariness.  The need for speed, to the degree it could be maintained, now took precedence.

On the way back, Looper did not pass by the tents again, instead taking a shortcut well SW of them.  Nor did she return to the summit of HP12260, although she came within 40 feet elevation-wise as she passed W of it on her journey S.

The sun was down by the time the Carolina Dog reached the Meadow Creek trail again.  This time no leaving it!  No repeat of this morning’s mistakes.  As light faded, Lupe and SPHP sped down the trail.  At one point there was a slightly scary snowfield to cross.  Once beyond it, the pace picked up again.

Perhaps it was inevitable.  As dusk deepened, the trail grew fainter just as rapidly as the fading light.  After rounding the end of the big ridge that extended E into the middle of the Meadow Creek basin, SPHP lost the trail completely.  Even Loop didn’t seem to know where it went.

Oh, well.  Hopefully, no disaster.  Lupe had made it down to the region of scattered pines and open meadows.  If she just kept going down the canyon, all she had to do was pick up the trail again before it crossed Meadow Creek.

The flashlight came out.  The march lower resumed in weak flickering light.  Stars were now shining overhead.  Everything else was black, black, black.  Weariness demanded rest breaks.  Alright.  5 minutes each time.  Then onward!  It was clear the Carolina Dog would have preferred to spend the night.

After a while, Lupe did come upon a trail again.  Encouraging!  But as she followed it E, on and on deeper into the canyon, SPHP began to fret.  Had Loop found the trail too late?  Could the creek crossing really be this far?  Had it been missed way back up there somewhere?  Didn’t really make sense, though.  Could there really be 2 trails up here?

For a long way, Meadow Creek could be heard, but not seen, somewhere below off to the R (S).  Several times hopes rose as the trail threatened to go down to the stream, but each occurrence proved a false start.  Finally, a switchback!  This was it.  How big was Meadow Creek going to be?  The American Dingo had not crossed it on the way to Francs Peak.

Well, not a rock hop, but not too scary, either.  Exhaustion was setting in.  Hardly pausing, SPHP splashed across, feet and pants legs getting soaked, but only below the knee.  If Loopster had any problems with Meadow Creek, she didn’t say so, but she arrived on the S bank wringing wet halfway up her chest.

Now that she was across Meadow Creek, it was certain Lupe would make it back to the G6 tonight.  All she had to do was stick with the trail.  It all became a blur.  Longer, steeper, rockier than SPHP remembered.  Rest breaks laying in the dirt, even though it was virtually all downhill.  In the black forest, both time and the trail stretched to infinity.

So what if we come to a grizzly here in the forest, SPHP?  What’s the plan?  Still want me to just growl and stick with you?

No, don’t bother with that now, Looper.  The grizzly will already be upon us if we meet one here in the night.  New plan!  Since I don’t have anything left in the pack for you, just go ahead and eat any grizzlies we come to.

Oh, I am hungry!  Fresh bear steak does sound good!  Plenty left over for you, too, SPHP.

Thanks, Loop!  I can hardly wait.  C’mon, let’s keep going.

Down, down!  At last, Lupe reached the landslides, got across them, and was on the countless long switchbacks.  Almost home free!  However, near the bottom, the trail faded away.  Criminy!  What next?  Lost in a wretched tangle of deadfall!

Took a while, but Loop managed to thrash through it all.  Suddenly, she was on the road!  Yes!  Which way?  Dark outlines of the mountains against the night sky said R.  5 minutes, and the exhausted American Dingo was at the G6.  (7-16-20, 2:01 AM, 44ºF)

7-16-20, 6:54 AM, USFS Road No. 200, Wood River ford 0.33 mile from the Meadow Creek trailhead –  Lupe’s Francs Peak adventures might be over, but the G6’s weren’t.  Not until it got through 3 fords again, and back to the better road that started at the Brown Mountain campground without being swept away or popping a tire.

A beautiful morning!  The Carolina Dog stood on the bank of the shining Wood River at the first and worst of the 3 fords, while SPHP assessed the situation.  Maybe stay more to the R on the way through the ford instead of foolishly charging right through it like last time?

Yup!  Staying R was better.  No bogging down.  The G6 was a champ!  Half an hour later, Lupe was on smooth gravel in the scenic Wood River valley cruising toward Meeteetse, happily barking at cows along the way.

So what now, SPHP?  Where we going next?

Oh, we’re going to rest up, take it easy for the next couple of days, then it’s on to the next big thing.  How does the Wind River range sound to you?

Lupe was happy with that.  The Wind River range is awesome!  And as long as the Carolina Dog is on the road to adventure, life just can’t get any better.

Links:

Next Adventure                      Prior Adventure

Franc’s Peak, Absaroka Range, Wyoming (7-15-20) – Part 1: The Meadow Creek Trail & Beyond!

Trout Peak, Absaroka Range, Wyoming – Part 1: Jim Creek to Agee Creek (7-7-22)

Trout Peak, Absaroka Range, Wyoming – Part 2: Agee Creek to the Summit! (7-9-22)

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