Gannett Peak, The highest point in Wyoming, had been on my to-do list for over ten years. I’ve talked to many people over the years who also have Gannett Peak on their to-do lists, but never met anyone who had actually done it. Gannett Peak is long and hard, with most trips coming in at around 50 miles round trip and over 9,000 feet of cumulative elevation gain. That’s not to mention all the technical mountaineering gear you need to bring with you to safely cross the glaciers and climb to the top. All of these challenges made climbing Gannett Peak a brutal but rewarding experience, with some of the most amazing views you can get anywhere in the Rocky Mountains.
![]() |
Gannett Peak from the Dinwoody Glacier |
On 8/4/21, our group of nine met at the Pole Creek trailhead at 4:30PM and got on the trail, hoping to get in as many miles as possible before dark. We managed to hike for 7 miles before setting up camp in a small valley above Hobbs Lake.
Approaching Hobbs Lake |
Entering Titcomb Basin |
Titcomb Basin with Bonnie Pass in the background |
We ran into trouble entering Titcomb Basin when it started raining on us. The light rain turned to a downpour by the time we were passing the second lake, forcing us to abandon our plans to camp up under Bonnie Pass. We ended up setting camp in the pouring rain between the second lake and Bonnie Pass. Conditions further worsened and I got a weather update on my inreach that forecasted storms and even snow throughout the night in higher elevations, with the following day being bad as well. We were going to start our climb at 2am, but this new weather report made it clear that it would be too dangerous. The storm was so intense during the night that one of the tents collapsed and its occupants had to squeeze into other still standing tents. I had never experienced a storm as bad as that up to that point, and probably only got a few hours of sleep.
After a night of horrible storms and little sleep, we woke to see fresh snow on Bonnie Pass. Three members of the group had to pack up and hike out due to us missing our summit window. The rest of us had the flexibility to stay an extra day and try for the summit again the following day. The storm cleared briefly in the afternoon, so we used the weather window to practice self-arresting with our ice axes on a nearby snowfield.
The full group before parting ways on the third day |
It was cold all day with periodic thunderstorms and plenty of boredom as we waited for our 2AM start time. The weather cleared up right before we woke up at 2AM, and we set off for Bonnie Pass. Using Titcomb Basin to get to Gannett is appealing because of the scenic approach and shorter total mileage when compared to the Glacier trail approach. However, the main drawback of our route was having to climb 2000 feet up Bonnie Pass, only to lose 1000 feet of elevation on the other side while approaching the peak. To get back up Bonnie Passs after returning from summitting Gannett Peak, you have to climb back up the 1000 feet that you lost descending off of the pass.
Fresh snow and ice coating the rocks made the steep pass even more difficult. It took us three hours to get from our camp to the top of Bonnie Pass, where we could finally see Gannett Peak in front of us. Three members of our group got discouraged by the cold, and the distance of the peak from us and decided to turn back before dropping down onto the glacier. This left Maddi, Calder and I to make the summit attempt. As we dropped down to the Dinwoody Glacier, I noticed many open crevasses on the glacier. None of the trip reports I had read mentioned crevasses, but we had brought the right equipment in case of this. Nearing the edge of the glacier, we strapped crampons to our boots and tied a rope between the three of us.
![]() |
A hidden crevasse on the Dinwoody Glacier |
Descending the Dinwoody Glacier was a highlight for all of us due to its beauty and impressive ice features. We saw multiple deep moulins and an ice slot canyon on the glacier. The previous day’s snow only formed a thin layer, and the surface of the glacier was down to solid ice.
The Dinwoody Glacier with Bonnie Pass in the Background |
We took our crampons off after crossing the Dinwoody Glacier and hiked up a steep, boulder-strewn slope toward the Gooseneck Glacier. The glacier was very steep leading up to the summit ridge with a large crevasse called a bergschrund that needed to be crossed. We put on crampons and set out onto the glacier without roping up because we didn’t want one person slipping on the steep snow slope above the bergschrund, pulling everyone else down with them. While climbing up towards the bergshrund, our trekking poles broke through into hidden crevasses several times, though I still thought roping up might be more dangerous in the steep terrain.
Approaching the Gooseneck Glacier |
The bergschrund itself didn’t look bad, with the bottom crevasse mostly still covered by snow, and the top crevasse filled in most of the way. Falling into it from the slope above could still be fatal, with parts of the bergshrund opening into darkness below. The issue became the steep slope above the bergshrund. The initial climbing move required to exit out of the bergschrund was a lower-angle overhang with nothing but solid ice to swing my axe into. Calder was belaying me on lead, and I was able to place an ice screw to help protect the move. I found the slope above the bergschrund to be either solid ice or a few inches thick of slushy snow over the ice, which made for very sketchy climbing with only one ice axe. Ice screws were the only thing I could use to build an anchor for a top belay, and luckily everyone was able to make it over the hump onto the slope. The steep slope above the bergschrund was very insecure, making me wish I had two good curved ice axes, rather than my single straight one.
Climbing over the bergshrund |
After reaching the rocks at the top of the chute, we left some gear before starting up the ridge to the summit. During the scramble up to the summit, we didn’t run into anything that would have required crampons, ropes, or other technical gear. From the top of the chute to the summit, it only took us about 50 minutes. Reaching the summit, we were greeted by thick wildfire smoke that had moved in, obscuring much of the distant views. Despite the smoke, the surrounding glaciers were visible and made for an incredible summit view.
View from the top of Gannett |
Myself at the summit |
The largest glaciers in the U.S. Rocky Mountains are visible from the summit, including the Gannett Glacier (the largest), which looked like something straight out of Alaska! Small clouds started to pass right above the summit, so we didn’t spend much time at all up there, fearing the quick formation of afternoon thunderstorms like I had previously witnessed on the summit of the Grand Teton.
The Gannett Glacier, the largest glacier in the American Rocky Mountains |
The weather held out for us as we quickly descended towards the Gooseneck Glacier. Downclimbing the icy slope through the Bergschrund did not seem very safe, so I scouted out a rappel route down the rocks on the skier's left of the Bergschrund. This rappel route had pre-existing anchors for the most part and could be downclimbed/upclimbed without a rope or gear by anyone comfortable with low 5th-class climbing who wants to avoid the steep, icy slope. It was a relief getting back down below the bergschrund because it signaled the end of the most dangerous part of the mountain. When we got back to the Dinwoody Glacier, we noticed that it had changed. Many more crevasses were visible now that things had warmed up and the previous day’s snow had melted off somewhat.
Climbing back up the Dinwoody Glacier |
As we hiked back up the glacier towards Bonnie Pass, we deviated our path slightly and Maddi fell hip-deep into a hidden crevasse. She managed to get herself out of the crevasse, but it was still an unnerving experience. Nearing the edge of the glacier, we were forced to cross a snow bridge over a very large crevasse without a discernible bottom. The snow bridge held for all of us and we successfuly made it to the base of Bonnie Pass. While Maddi and Calder rested, I got a head start and climbed Bonnie Pass, running down the other side. I made it down to our base camp near the lake and recorded that it had been 15 hours and 45 minutes since we had left camp that morning for our summit bid.
Looking at Titcomb Basin from Bonnie Pass |
After Calder and Maddi arrived in camp an hour later, the six of us remaining immediately packed up and attempted to get to Island Lake that night so that our hike-out day wouldn’t be as brutal. Backpacking 4 miles after the long summit day was horrendous, and I struggled to Island Lake, where we set up camp. The 13 miles from Island Lake to the trailhead went by relatively fast for me, though every bit of uphill reminded me how beat up my body had become over those 5 days.
Hiking out on the final day |
By the time we had made it back to our cars, I had already decided that I would return in the future to do the peak again. The summit day itself was tons of fun, Bonnie Pass excluded, with enough mixed terrain to keep things very exciting and scenic the whole time. I might consider the Glacier Trail in the future to avoid Bonnie Pass, or hire a mule team to take our packs for a more enjoyable experience. I can see why so many people hold off on doing the peak, though it is a must-do for any mountaineer in the West.