We continued up towards the saddle and about one hundred feet below the rim began to cut a contour around to the south. The walls directly to the east were impenetrable without gear and a fairly clear, cairn marked trail had reappeared once the worst of the scree had vanished. Here we waited and watched the sun climb above the horizon as our climbing companions hurried to join us. It was now 5:30 am. The snow had turned to light falling icy-slush. Everywhere the rock was slick and wet. The terrain was rocky and rough. We were very glad for the cairns which guided us onwards.
It was at this point that we decided that going back was not an attractive option. Descending the scree and boulder field looked substantially more difficult than ascending had been. Our hopes were that after punching through the loft we could either easily skip the summit and cirvumnavigate the peak to the keyhole route or hit the peak and then descend by that same option. This feeling grew as we continued the route. On cresting the ridge and entering the loft proper, we discovered immediately that our hopes of summiting Meeker as well as Longs were... futile to say the least:
From the Loft, the route description in Roach's book, Colorado's Fourteeners, becomes fairly confusing. The key is to cut as far to the northwest on the Loft as possible. Around here cairns reappear, and following them you come to a great descending trough. If you are tempted to continue following the cairns and cut a northwards contour, reconsider: ahead lie a nearly imprenetrable (nix that nearly) band of cliffs. Overhanging drops seperate you from the cut you need to follow up towards the Homestretch. Instead of this sensible seeming route, you must instead descend hundreds of feet down rotten, dangerous scree and then wend your way northwards through a warren of house-sized boulders. Spreading out is key during the descent, lest you slaughter a climber below you with rockfall. Several interesting looking fourth and fifth class cracks line the descent and the upcoming climb. After threading through the maze of boulders we arrived in a second gully. Jay and others pressed to the top looking for a passage over into the third and final valley, which connects with the homestretch. A promising looking notch at the very head of the second valley seemed impenetrable and instead we followed a lower route which I had been scouting. This route involved a little bit of exciting down climbing before a long and grueling slog back up talus, rock and scree to the homestretch. On regaining the altitude of the notch above the second valley we discovered that a narrow path connects from the second valley to the third. Additionally, the difficult looking cliff band which separates the second and third valleys is penetrable at several locations along its length (where rockfall has eased the sheer-drops to more manageable scrambles). This was nearly impossible to tell from the second valley itself, and our doubt led us to descend significantly to just above a saddle before attempting to penetrate the cliff band. In the future, pushing to the top of the second valley is the clear best choice.
We began up the third valley sometime around 7:00 am and had reached the top by perhaps 9:00 am, perhaps slightly later. Descending and regaining altitude significantly slowed us down. Fortunately, the weather seemed to be holding. The cloud deck was still low and resting almost directly on the peak, but the lower flanks of Longs were relatively clear. The major danger was the slickness of the rock: on my way up I followed a couple of more challenging routes and did some light fourth class scrambling in my hiking boots. Caution was key and exposure was a little unnerving given the slick rock conditions. Far worse awaited us on the upcoming homestretch however. Roach notes prosaically that "The homestretch is class 3 when dry." The Homestretch is a long sustained class 3 crack with severe exposure every step of the way. Most of it lies back at about a 30 degree slant and the handholds and footholds are quite good. Some ledges and rocky projections would probably catch a falling climber as they slid down the steep slope, but with slick rock the slide looked un-nerving. Since the weather seemed to be holding (though clouds were sitting directly on the summit) we chose to make a summit bid. Passage up the homestretch was meticulously careful. We lingered on the summit for a brief while and got some fellow peak-baggers (the only two other people up there) to take a photo of the seven of us. From left to right we are Dean, Jay, myself (in the back), Jen and Jared, Than (in the back) and Chris. A cold looking group indeed! Everyone quickly headed down before the weather worsened, leaving Dean, Than and myself on the peak as we ate, hydrated and prepared for the descent. The three of us looked around and marvelled that we were the only souls on the peak of Longs during one of the last summer weekends: a time when there should be a queue all the way up the homestretch. Then we looked around again at the thick cloud and decided that perhaps we should get ourselves down in one piece.
The descent was long and took quite a bit of care. The only loss on the descent of the homestretch was Than's treasured, world-travelling nalgene which plunged to its doom midway during the slippery descent. We elected to leave it where it landed, somewhere in the distant mists below. We saw no sign of Glen or Attila at the summit or during the descent and made all possible speed. Our descent began at about 11 am, and we reached the keyhole itself within an hour or two. The descent was steep and unrelenting: the Keyhole would not be my summit-route of choice. As a descent, it's quite fine, especially when the alternative involves scrambling up and then down significant and slippery scree piles! Following the trail from the boulder field to the fork and from there back to the parking lot took an interminable time as we exhaustedly staggered ever downwards. We reached the cars at a quarter of three, almost exactly twelve hours from our departure. Glen and Attila had left us a note on the windshield: they'd turned around at the keyhole itself and waited for us for quite some time at the cars before finally giving up and driving down into town. Very kindly, the two of them had sequestered a stash of beers for us behind the front, driverside wheel. They were very, very welcome.
