October 9, 2025.

Photo album

Boundary Peak (13,147′) is the official state highpoint of Nevada. It’s not the highest mountain in Nevada, since it is technically a subsummit of Montgomery Peak (13,445′), whose summit is across the border in California. Technically, Wheeler Peak (13,063′) is the highest mountain in Nevada and quite a well-deserving highpoint at that. But to the folks seeking the 50 state highpoints, Boundary is the one to get. I am very casually working that list, so I thought it would be a fun challenge. I know I’ll never climb Denali and likely not Whitney or Rainier (because permits), so I’m not planning to finish. But when my travels take me close to a peak within my skill and interest levels, I add it to my personal to-do list.

And so I found myself waking up at 5 am to a cell phone alarm blaring in my ear. I planned on a 6 am start time so I’d get the best weather window and the most daylight to complete the hike. We’d parked overnight at the Trail Canyon trailhead so all I needed to do was make a nice breakfast, grab my backpack and go.

I began walking by headlamp, but I soon switched it off. I walked headlong into the falling moon as the sun rose behind me. I was enchanted by the ever changing light and color on the hills. After an hour, it was bright enough for me to get a good look at the environment around me. The dense brush along the gently flowing creek began to thin out a bit and the depth of the basin I was in became more clear. I walked to the end of the trail and continued through a gap in the willows to a saddle. I had read online that this is the point that most people bear left onto the descent path and climb up the loose scree towards the summit. I made a note of that and instead made my own way up the relentlessly steep drainage.

Climbing steep hills at high elevations is exhausting stuff. I stopped very often to catch my breath and to pick my next move through the trees. Once at the saddle, I picked up a trail again and climbed up the rocky ridgeline. Gleefully I noticed some alpine gold plants with closed up flowers, breathing life onto the gray expanse.

As I reached my first real view towards the summit of Boundary Peak, I began to feel the seriousness of the wind. It felt like it was coming from every direction and there was no escaping it. I hoped my early start would protect me from the worst of it, but I was wrong. Feeling uncertain of a successful climb, I decided to start with an easier target: Hosebag Peak. [Side note: how the heck did this peak get this name? Is it like Camelbak: hosebag as Kleenex: tissue? Discuss.] This was a subsummit of a subsummit, so nothing too special. But it looked safe and straightforward enough. If I couldn’t get to Boundary, I’d get to the top of something. From the top of that, I could regroup and decide whether or not to continue.

Well, the joke was on me. I turned the corner to the “quick and easy” ridge walk to the top of Hosebag and it was like the wind turned up to eleven. I literally had to crawl the last bit to the top. Since it was pretty broad at that point, there was no danger of me falling down the mountain, but I did feel like I could get knocked off my feet with every gust.

At the summit, I did a thorough assessment of the situation. I’d given up on any chance of climbing all the way to Montgomery. I knew the route to Boundary lay to the right side of the ridge, which felt more sheltered from the wind. But there was another obstacle: a thin layer of fresh snow. It was going to be more difficult to find a trail, plus the snow obscures gaps between rocks and makes everything more slippery. So, raging wind or snowy ankle traps…which would I prefer?

Ultimately, I decided to continue on the route to check it out, reserving the right to turn back at any time.

Walking on the snow-covered talus was extremely tedious. My feet got cold and eventually wet. I plodded along at a snail’s pace because I could not afford to make any mistakes. But the shoulder of the mountain protected me from the worst wind here. Patiently, I worked my way up to the final push: a sun-baked, wind-blasted ridgeline made of huge boulders. I used my mittened-hands and hiking poles to pick a route to the top. And, voila! I made it!

As soon as I signed the register, a man and a dog poked their heads onto the small summit block. We tried yelling at each other over the wind, and I learned that he chatted with my husband on the trailhead before heading up. Aaron had told him about my dog allergy so he very kindly kept his dog under control and away from me. He also let me know that he had come up the descent route and said it was awful, so he recommended getting off the summit ridge earlier and making a big diagonal down into the basin. I wanted to ask more specifics about what exactly he didn’t like about the route but shouting over the wind was difficult. I thanked him and tried to follow his advice.

What I realized in hindsight that he probably didn’t like the loose scree, which would have been fine on the way down.

So that meant I had to descend an extra crappy route on mixed talus, scree and sand. There were some very steep sections that I could barely see what my next step would be and I cursed myself for listening to that guy instead of sticking to the research I’d done. Plus, the whole time I was nervous about that guy and his dog descending after me, kicking down rocks. What’s mountaineering anyway if you don’t make at least one mistake?

So, after completing yet another extremely tedious section of the route, I found myself a nice resting spot beneath a tree at the foot of the headwall. That gave me some wind protection and a comfy place to eat some food. The other climber leapfrogged ahead of me and was out of there before I finished my lavish break time.

The remainder of the hike was fairly uneventful until I reached the section that I’d done under cover of night. Now, in the full daylight I was able to see what I’d missed earlier. Turns out, lots of colorful fall foliage and a handful of blooming lupine! It’s so magical to get a bonus treat at the end of an out-and-back hike.

While it’s a bummer I didn’t get to tack on Montgomery this time, I doubt there will be a next time. This peak is way out of the way of anything and there are too many other fun things to do in this life. So, I was glad to have had a date with Boundary Peak but this is a one and done for me.