There’s something sacred about being the first woman to move through a place like this. I didn’t come to race the clock. I came to feel every ridge, every scramble, every mile of solitude up high. The route is as wild as it is beautiful, and I let myself take it in.
The Timpanogos High Route is no joke. Relentless bushwhacking, long stretches of exposed scrambling, and not a soul in sight. I understand now why so few people have finished it. The peaks deliver unreal views of Utah that feel like they belong to another world. I spent time on the summits to honor the route and its silence.
What caught me most off guard was the snow on the descent after the final peak. Far more than I expected, and I didn’t bring gear for it. It turned the final stretch into a crux of its own. If you’re considering this line, I recommend checking conditions and preparing for all elements, even in midsummer.
This one demands presence. It's not about chasing a time. It's about earning your way across the spine of the mountain and letting it leave a mark on you.