Except when you're a cranky old guy like me that's been suffering through lousy weather for months and months you sometimes wish you could just have the mountains to yourself for a day. Well, you're in luck! Here are some tips for getting the wilds all to yourself. (And yes, it works for all cranks including men and women, young and old.)

First, get up in the dark. You do it all winter long so what's the big deal? Yeah, sure, in late spring and summer this means OMG-it's-early-4-o'clock, but you can do it.

Next, be sure you don't go where it's sunny. Don't worry, we'll climb to clear skies, but it's important it's lousy at the trailhead. If you can't manage that, at least make sure the weather looks lousy from the city where folks will be coming from. Bonus points if the forecast actually casts doubt on the day.

Third, and most importantly, go where there are no trails. No trails means no people. At least not people that follow trails, and that's the majority of hikers that are only showing up now that Mother Nature isn't trying to kill them with rain and snow.

Put these three tips into practice and BOOM CHICKEN SOUP, you've got yourself a private day in the mountains. For example, this trip.

Tink and I groggily made our way to the car. There were exactly no stars to be seen because the clouds were low. The drive up was so misty I had to use the wipers. At the trailhead I sat for a moment, peering in to the dark. Still no stars. The beginning of the hike was through wet brush so we were instantly soaked even though nary a drop fell from the sky.

I've done this route before (more or less) and each time it pays off. When we broke through the clouds we were all alone except the pikas and marmots. I saw no people until we were nearly back at the car. Moreover, I saw no sign of people beyond one small section of trail on a rocky ridge. Were there really people there or was it just the goats? Hard to say. The low clouds even hid the sight of the freeway 3,000 feet below and the lines of cars at established trailheads.

The views were tremendous, the solitude was complete. It was the perfect way to remind Mr. Crankypants that all was right in the world at least for this short time in this magical place. Come to think of it, maybe more people should experience this. It might help them understand why we need to protect it... but that's a different rant.

For now, go early, go when it's lousy, and go where they ain't.