Iron Mountain is located in the rugged area of Cameron Pass, in the Never Summer Range north of Rocky Mountain National Park. There are so many places up here to visit, and all of them so close together, that one can hardly place them all in seperate accounts, that being done here only because they were not all visited on the same day. From the top of Iron Mountain and surrounding grades one can look northwest to see the Diamond Peaks, north into the Rawah Wilderness, west to see the Nokhu Crags and American Lakes, south into Rocky Mountain National Park and the Never Summer Range stretching off into the hazy horizon and east over two of Roosevelt National Forest's three wilderness areas.

Andra, Frank and I began the hike at the parking lot located at Cameron Pass on the boundary between Larimer County and Jackson County, right up against the east flank of the Continental Divide at about 10,600 ft. It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving. The sun was shining gladly and high puffy clouds streamed past imperceptibly as we struck out into the woods south of the highway just inside the National Forest boundary. Our route took us almost straight uphill, but we made our own switchbacks since there is no trail to Iron Mountain. The alpine vegetation was not difficult to walk through, being mostly a continuous canopy of subalpine firs, ancient spruces and a scattering of lodgepole pine. The understory was very open, owing to the deep shade, and all the typical small-statured vegetation was blanketed by snow, ankle deep in most places.

After an hour or so of trudging uphill, we were rewarded by the views presented above timberline. We emerged from the forest onto the grassy expanse of a large round-top mountain which lacks a name only because so many taller peaks surround it. We could see the Nokhu Crags clearly across the Michigan Ditch, and the Diamond Peaks were on the northern horizon. The sun still shone warmly, but there was scant shelter from the northwest wind. Thus, we circled around the south side of the mountain and came to rest on the southeast side, still in the sun but out of the wind. Here we ate a small lunch and played fetch games with Frank.
 

Continuing on southeast, we hit a small saddle connecting the first unnamed peak with the massive gradual incline leading up to Iron Mountain further on. Andra was taken with a nasty headache, perhaps from the atlitude, as we were now above 11,000 ft, so she opted to stay at the saddle and read or nap while I took a quick trip without any gear up to the peak and back, a proposed trip of an hour. Frank took some convincing to come with me, since he wasn't at all keen to the idea of leaving someone in the party behind, but he eventually came along.

We hiked briskly up the steep incline, switchbacking continuously and slipping quite alot on the loose rocks and snow. After the first rough bit, the terrain flattened out and the going was easier. For alot of the way, I was able to jog along the grassy expanse. The only hitch to this strategy was when I ran over a snow patch, expecting it from outward appearances to be only inches thick, and finding my leg sunk up to the thigh in dry snow!

The mountain itself is the western terminus of a gradually uplifting flattened ridge, that falls away into Michigan Ditch where the Michigan River begins. Thus, on the western side of the route I was traversing, the ground fell away sharply in sheer, rocky cliffs broken only by sharp teeth weathered from the mountainside, pointing up like daggers. The eastern side had a very gentle slope to it, and was surprisingly flat, being smooth enough to ride a bicycle for miles. At several points along my way up, I could look down to the way I had come and see a small speck of color that was Andra. Once I was able to get her attention by yelling and flailing my arms, and received a similiar response back. Other times I was too far away or she was too engrossed in her novel to notice. The saddle then became lost from view as I continued south, and it was sometime before it was back in view.

I finally reached the top of Iron Mountain, or what I presume to be Iron Mountain (I didn't have a topo map with me at the time, but looked at one later). The western face was a dizzying cliff that I was very concerned about since the wind was howling so visciously. I didn't daly long since I had long since lost sight of Andra and didn't want her to worry. Frank and I hiked east a bit to where the grade was smooth and grassy, then loped all the way back except for really steep spots where we had to walk slowly to avoid slipping. We met up with Andra and then leisurely strolled back down the mountain to the car, arriving well after sunset (not hard to do in November).

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