While browsing the web for info on the Wasatch 11,000-footers some years ago, I inadvertently stumbled across a high alpine linkup known (by select few) as the Hematoma Quad. Several years later, it continued to linger in the back of my mind. The what-Quad? Even after the hike, I've mentioned this trip to several experienced Utah mountain players, only to be met with confused gazes. Not a lot of people know about this strange corridor, which can be a rarity in WasAngeles. This equated to incredible solitude, legitimate route finding and a true adventure so close to the salty city a million others call home.

A SummitPost entry was the main source of inspiration and trip beta, and describes the Hematoma as a route which involves consecutively summiting North Thunder Mountain (11,150'), South Thunder Mountain (11,154'), Bighorn Peak (10,877') and Lone Peak (11,253').

I picked up Amanda before the clock struck five, and we drove to the power plant near the entrance of Little Cottonwood to begin the death march up Coalpit Gulch. We collectively decided on Coalpit after an incredible description on SummitPost:

““The primary goal, in the beginning, is to reach the summit of North Thunder Mountain. The most common route is via Coalpit Gulch. Other options would include ascents by way of Bells Canyon or Sam Thomas Gulch. The Coalpit Gulch route, which gains over 5,000 vertical feet in 2 1/2 miles, and involves negotiating tangles of avalanche debris, slimy logs, stinging nettle and thistles, best expresses the spirit of the route and is favored by purists.””

Peak 1 - North Thunder (11,150)

Ascending North Thunder Mountain was arguably the most difficult part of the day. From the trailhead, we were immediately met with a river crossing. Even after crossing the river, we struggled to find the entrance to Coalpit. Once we decided we were in the right place, we bushwhacked through dense brush, making painfully slow progress in the dark. As our path began to gradually open up, we were met with stinging nettle (as promised), waterfalls and excessive debris. Legs were burning as we tried to forget we were gaining 1000 vertical feet every half mile. We continued to work our way up and toward the gulch, out of the woods and into the sight of our first saddle.

After reaching the saddle and gaining the ridge, we were treated to views of Hogum and the Pfief, and with only a small boulder path separating us from the top, morale was high as we slogged toward the summit of North Thunder.

Summit register. Only four signings in 2017

Peak 2 - South Thunder (11,154)

Traversing over to South Thunder was pretty straightforward. We scrambled along Thunder Ridge, scoping lines down into the Hypodermic Needle and The Sliver. We ran into a few mountain goats guarding the summit, had a couple snack breaks and only encountered a one or two technical sections to challenge our wits.

I think we tried to make it to South Thunder in an hour. We failed.

South Thunder with Lone Peak in the distance. So close. Very far.

Peak 3 - Bighorn Peak (10,877')

Bighorn Peak was rough. It was a peak we underestimated due to its sub-11,000-foot status, but one that hit us when we were weak. It was the only obstacle between us and the iconic Lone Peak, but boy did it suck. The sun was blazing, shade was minimal, our water reserves were nearly depleted and we wanted desperately to leave Bighorn done and dusted.

Keep moving.

Peak 4 - Lone Peak (11,253)

The final effort to Lone Peak was exciting. Knowing we were on our last leg, confidence and energy were restored, sights were set, and we begged our bodies to stay strong as we dropped off Bighorn. Working our way toward the saddle, we encountered the most technical part of the day. The ridge scramble on the south cliffed us out, requiring backtracking and moving over to the north. The north route then reciprocated, demanding a downclimb and a move back to the south side of the ridge. This exposed dance through massive boulders challenged but didn't deter, and we were soon through and on to the last summit push.

Sore feet cried blissful notes when they made contact with a stretch of grass - the first in twelve hours and a welcome change of scenery. The excitement was short lived, as the grass quickly gave way to more scrambling up and toward the false summit. Amanda pushed on while I sat back and looked down into the cirque, snapped a few photos and daydreamed about drinking gallons of water.

Making it up the final summit was surreal. As one hand moved in front of the other, I quickly glided over rocks and floated toward the highest point. Elated, relieved and exhausted we celebrated our day's hike at the top of the majestic mountain before making our way down the steep Jacob's Ladder trail and toward a shuttle by Parker Duke.

We were giddy with excitement as we descended, and praised the demigods for the established trail beneath our feet, another first of the day. As the summer sun began to set, headlamps were donned and we continued to drop 5,500' of vertical toward the city below. We cursed the loose trail as we fumbled to stay upright, pinky promising muscles they would be allowed to rest in an hour's time.

And the next day we did rest. Rest and remember the great adventure of the Hematoma Quad.

Now, what's next?