Enchaining the Hyalites: Part 1 the eastern peaks

West ridge of Hyalite Canyon in early morning light

The peak of summer is slow in coming and doesn’t last long in the Montana high country. Snow lingers into July: this makes for stunning contrasts with the fresh greens and flowers in the forests and fields below, but it makes high country travel difficult. The long summer days and warming temperatures slowly melt the snow and the high country finally fully opens. It’s time to form an action plan for those adventures we have all been dreaming about, and go before the best days of summer wane. 

This has been a great summer—so great that I’m afraid that writing about it might jinx it.  But here goes; we have had thankfully few days with temperatures in the 90s and no smoke. Most summers it has gotten to be that smoke obscures many a view and sears many a lung among all of us. So even more reason to get out this summer, and get out soon.

On Saturday July 26^th, my son-in-law Chris and I set out on our biggest one-day adventure of the summer. The goal was to complete the HURL—Hyalite Ultimate Ridge Linkup—route. The focus of this route is to climb all the peaks lining both sides of Hyalite Canyon: that’s the goal, at least approximately.

Hyalite Canyon; Hyalite Peak center-background

Hyalite Canyon is a north-south facing canyon. It is open and drains to the north, the beautiful pyramid that is Hyalite peak closes it on the south, and it is bordered on the east and west by steep glacially carved walls; it is a classic U-shaped valley. The west side contains deep hanging valleys flush with mountain lakes, cascades, and waterfalls.  Bordering Hyalite Canyon on either side is a profusion of other canyons. Between these canyons is an almost impossible jumble of sharp peaks. Climbing a select subset of these peaks was our objective.

It was Austin Mallet who pioneered the HURL route in August 2021. He climbed every named and most unnamed peaks on the rim of Hyalite Canyon in one 15-hour 31-minute push.  He added four peaks that aren’t on the rim to the set he chose to climb. I have my guesses as to why: Chisholm is tied for the highest peak in the Hyalites, so he couldn’t well leave it out; Fridley is outside the rim, but just by a smidge and one has to go up and over it’s shoulder anyway, might as well climb it; Alex Lowe Peak: Austin states in his trip report that he added out this one out of respect for the great mountaineer; Mount Blackmore has a trail up it, which Austin reveled in after a day of off-trail trekking. Altogether, Austin’s HURL route contains 13 must climb peaks, and lots of nontrivial unnamed peaks that one might as well trek over along the way. Depending on the exact route chosen it is on the order of 25 miles and 14,000 feet of climbing. 

Chris atop the Sleeping Giant; The Mummy and Flanders from Sleeping Giant

I had some doubt that I had this in me, but nonetheless I broached the idea to Chris, who jumped at it. I had paced Chris through the last 25 miles in the Big Sky Wind Drinkers Devil’s Backbone Ultra just two weeks earlier. This made me confident that I could handle 25 trail miles. I knew that 25 mostly off-trail miles would be harder, but how much harder depended on what lay ahead.  The 14,000 vertical weighed on me. My biggest day ever was one-year earlier when Chris and I climbed Granite Peak—only Chris summited, and even that was only 8,700 vertical. Chris had already managed 11,000 and 13,200 vertical foot days this summer in 55K and 50 mile trail races respectively. He was more prepared than I, and 33 years younger.

North face of Flanders; Looking south from Flanders: Chisholm, Overlook and Hyalite Peaks in the background left to right

We didn’t complete the route. It is likely that Chris would have made it if not for my slower pace: I found some of the downhills, in particular, to be scary steep and dangerous, Chris seemed to just cruise down. But what I found once I was out there, was that I didn’t care about completing the HURL in one nonstop blast. I really just wanted to climb all the major peaks in the Hyalites, and I was okay with doing it in two hard pushes.

I run Elephant and Blackmore every summer and I make sure to camp at Hyalite Lake and climb Hyalite Peak each summer. With two exceptions 40 plus years ago, the rest of the range has always just been background scenery. This was a chance to rise to the challenge of each peak, to momentarily stand on the top and take in the view. At 67 I don’t have the energy of a 20 or 30 something, but I still am driven to see what I am capable of. Chris and I climbed all six peaks on or connected to the east rim of Hyalite Canyon and climbed Hyalite Peak as our seventh and final peak for the day. We then ran all the way down to Hyalite Trailhead. It was a challenging day, and with the exception of two light rain showers, it was a beautiful day.

Overlook; SW face of Chisholm

The beginning of the route was easy enough: an early morning jog by road for 2.7 miles from the Hyalite Reservoir parking lot around part of the reservoir to the base of Sleeping Giant Mountain. We excitedly followed the faint trail we found into the woods. Alas, it faded out after maybe 100 feet and then we climbed steeply through thick forest while we worked our way through a maze of downed trees. This lasted for the first 1.2 miles, the first 2,000 vertical, until we were atop the Sleeping Giant. From here we continued to climb steeply through a thinner forest with smaller trees whose fallen brethren were easier to step over, until we reached the peak of The Mummy. One last climbing step brought us to the top of Flanders Mountain at 9,961 feet, where we were finally up on the high ridge of the Hyalites.

Once up top there were meadows lightly sprinkled with rocks that we could run through.  These didn’t last. Mostly it was rocky ascents and descents, mostly class 2, some class 3 with a few class 4 moves. 10,265-foot Overlook Mountain was the next named peak in line after Flanders. It was the most difficult climb of the day in the sense of bad rock and narrow ridges that weren’t a problem if you could count on the rocks you were gripping to stay in place—you couldn’t. 

Heather and Emerald lakes; Fridley Lakes

The ridge swept down between Overlook and 10,333-foot Mount Chisholm. I found this downhill uncomfortably steep and slick. Hiking boots may have gripped better; my trail running shoes were definitely overmatched. But then turning upward, Chisholm was a beautiful mix of rock and greenery that reminded me of the Monolith Forest in the northern Bridgers. Great views of the East Fork drainage, a curved U-shaped valley, were had from the top of Chisholm, as was an unobstructed view into Paradise Valley. We took it in then started our descent. The south side of Chisholm had lots of deep pebbly scree; it had the feel of a wet slowly sliding avalanche; I stopped three times to clean out my shoes.

Finger ridge with Fridley behind; paintbrush and Fridley

Once we reached the bottom of Chisholm, the next obstacle was an unrelentingly steep finger ridge that stood between us and 10,150-foot Fridley Peak. Once we were up and over that finger, we were greeted by a profusion of red paintbrush in the basin north of Fridley: it was as though we found their last hideout from the world. Fridley itself was just steep class 2, nothing treacherous. It was at the top of Fridley that the foregone conclusion was acceded to: it was 2:45 PM, we weren’t going to make it past Hyalite Peak today. I sat and finished the PB&J that I had been nibbling down one bite at a time in our moments on the top of each peak.

West ridge of Hyalite Canyon from Fridley; Hyalite Peak from Fridley

Nerves had kept me from sleeping well. I don’t do much off-trail travel anymore, and unlike in the days of my youth, I don’t generally have peak bagging partners. My excitement for the HURL was tempered by the sense that this route might have been beyond my ability.  If I had been able to quiet my mind, we might have had a chance to complete it.

The south side of Fridley was steep with rock bands that had to be negotiated. Then it was just a beautiful climb up Hyalite Peak with lots of pictures taken at the top. I was thrilled to have made it to the top of Hyalite again, from the east this time, and was thrilled that Chris and I were planning one more big day in the Hyalites this summer to finish this adventure.

East Ridge of Hyalite Peak

Garmin generated profile of the eastern half of the HURL route and exit to Hyalite trailhead

Garmin stats:

Distance: 20.73 miles

Vertical feet:

Ascended: 7838

Descended: 7569

One final note: Austin Mallet pioneered the HURL route. I did not know him, but from what I have gathered reading his website, he was an incredibly accomplished climber and ski mountaineer. If you check out his website, you will see that he had a great eye with a camera, he wrote informative trip reports, and most importantly lots of folks loved him. He died in an avalanche while skiing Lone Peak, near Salt Lake City, in May 2024. Here's the link: https://www.themalletor.com/home