Over the past 8 to 10 years, I’ve tried periodically to return to the top of Caribou Mountain.  On each attempt I was thwarted and would usually only get as far as tree line.  It was either due to an injury, weather or some other issue.

The trail to Caribou Mountain where it emerges from the trees.

Often the wind is fierce at this point in the hike.   But today, the there was barely a breeze.

The smooth surface of the water below belies the lack of wind.

From a distance the tundra looks brown, but up close, it’s green and gold.   On the trail were brown and green cicadas.  Lots of them.  I had to watch where I stepped to avoid smooshing them.

Cicada on the trail.

Silhouette of cicada.

One thing I really love about this hike is the wide open vistas.

Looking down to the base of a small glacier and the fall colors.

The summit of Caribou Mountain. (click for larger)

Years ago,  there was an old black antique typewriter impaled on the metal pipe you see sticking up out of the stack of rocks marking the summit (12,390 feet in elevation).   I imagined that a frustrated author had sacrificed it.  I was disappointed to see the typewriter is no longer there. But I don’t recall the stack of rocks being that tall either.  So perhaps the typewriter is inside the stack.  Or, at least, that’s what I’d like to think.

One thing I noticed this time was the remains of an inscription. It’s partially missing, but it lists the names of the people who built this.

Old inscription that lists the names of the builders of the summit marker.

I’m not sure why this summit marker was built.  It’s not close to the being the most prominent or highest peak around.   Also, I don’t know the significance of the metal pole in the center.  I’m betting it was built 100 years ago by some miners living in the nearby town named Caribou.

In any case, I’m glad to have finally made it back, especially on a gloriously beautiful fall day.