At Longs Last
Smoke, Scrambles, and Friendship on One of Colorado's Most Iconic 14ers
I moved to Colorado in August 2022. Hard to believe it’s been three years. While I’ve summited multiple mountains in the state in my time here, I had not yet hit Longs Peak, until this weekend.
Partly because when something is in your backyard, you convince yourself you have all the time in the world and will eventually get around to it. “One day” kills many a dream.
Before 2025, I had climbed only 14 of the 53 fourteeners, peaks over 14,000’, and 11 of those summits were made on vacations to the Centennial State between 2019-2022, before I was a CO resident. When you know your time is limited, you try to make the most of it. Not sustainable, but certainly memorable.
Since I’ve lived here, I’ve climbed 15 more; however, 12 of those were done in the last eight months, thanks to my adventurous, trail-running, mountain-loving girlfriend Candice.
Or maybe I had not yet hit Longs because I knew it to be an iconic class 3 scramble, requiring the use of your hands for movement, with high exposure and considerable rockfall potential. Every time I ride my bike north to Longmont or Loveland, I’m in awe of Longs’ prominence and tempted by its rugged yet captivating beauty.
Ever since my fraternity brother Rob moved to Colorado last year, we’ve fantasized and exchanged texts about climbing Longs—the northernmost fourteener in the Rocky Mountains, and the highest point in Boulder County and Rocky Mountain National Park.
Earlier this month, we climbed Huron Peak. Both strong endurance athletes comfortable in alpine environments and with trust in each other, we hit Longs with Rob’s buddy, Oli, on Sunday.
Because the afternoon forecast called for thunder and snow, yes, even in August, Rob and Oli picked me up in Boulder at 5:40 AM, prioritizing safety over sleep. However, as soon as we stepped out of the car in Estes Park, we smelled the smoke—caused by wildfires on the Western Slope, as well as in Utah, Arizona, and Canada.
Despite the AQI somewhere between 130-160, well above my typical threshold for outdoor activities of 75, we departed from the Longs trailhead shortly after 6:30 AM. Rob, the good friend he is, offered me his buff, which I wore over my nose and mouth, reminding me of the unpleasant and uncertain times of the COVID pandemic.
I felt sluggish all morning. Was it fatigue from logging 16 hours, 16,000 feet of climbing, and 300 miles on the bike earlier in the week? No, it was from the poor air quality, I told myself. And because I skipped my precious strong cup of coffee. Caffeine withdrawal, of course!
I slogged behind Rob and Oli on trail, feeling bad for holding them back, until we reached the Keyhole at 13,200’, where we layered up before following the painted bull’s-eyes that led the way. A hundred vertical feet later, we entered the Trough, a well-defined gully filled with loose rock that climbs 600’ up the east side of the mountain.
From there, we traversed the Narrows, an exposed ledge that crosses the south side of Longs. After navigating around awkwardly positioned rocks, we were met with the final pitch, my favorite section of the route, the Homestretch. Rob, still ahead of me, scurried the 300’ up the cracks and slabs, looking like he was, in fact, going for a walk in the park.
I, not only comfortable with exposure, but one who enjoys the thrill of air beneath him, followed suit in my insufficient, tractionless Altras, passing slower, more cautious climbers wearing helmets. Once Oli topped out, we took photos, chased marmots, admired a hippie father sporting sandals and his son sharing a charcuterie board, and met an excited woman who worked for USGS, geeking out at the three different summit markers.
Around 10:45 AM, we began our descent. The smoke was replaced by fog and storm clouds. Rob, in typical fashion, and preparing for a 50k in Austria in a few weeks, bombed down. When Oli and I reached the top of the Trough, the crux, he was no longer in sight; however, this gave Oli and I the opportunity to get to know each other.
I learned about how he created a job for himself as an engineer in the comedy industry, what he cherishes about his home in Melbourne, his transition to America, his desire to have a big family, and even his coffee routine. Rob is a good judge of character and any mate of his is a mate of mine.
At the Granite Pass trail junction, we encountered two foreigners. “Is it safe to go up?” I stared at the ominous sky, repeating the inclement weather forecast. They thankfully decided to turn back and head down.
Around 2 PM, we met Rob back at the parking lot, where he arrived 90 minutes before. He was snacking on Flavor Blasted Goldfish and chatting up locals, including a park ranger, who mentioned her team did a rescue a day last week. Unsurprising considering that, on average, two people die each year attempting to climb the mountain.
During the drive back to Boulder, I was giddy and proud telling my friends that I take the same route on my bike. We hugged it out, feeling accomplished after knocking out a summer goal, already thinking about the next peak to bag together.
As a child owned a cabin in Estes with a picture window looking directly at Long's Peak. Fond memories. Nice climb.
Fun recap!