At 5,429 feet above sea level, Panorama Point is Nebraska’s highest natural point, tucked into the far southwestern corner of the state where Nebraska, Wyoming, and Colorado quietly meet. Ranked #20 among U.S. state high points, this marked summit #34 in my ongoing high-pointing journey. And despite the name, Panorama Point isn’t about sweeping views—it’s about subtlety, solitude, and the story of getting there.

The Almost-Flat High Point Club

Nebraska’s highest point feels… unexpectedly low-key. Panorama Point sits in the middle of an open field, shaped more by time, weather, and farm equipment than dramatic geology. The Kimball Chamber of Commerce placed a modest marker so visitors know they’ve arrived—blink and you might miss it. A metal desk nearby holds a register book, offering a quiet moment to sign in and reflect.

On a clear day, you might catch a glimpse of the Rockies far off in the distance. Still, the real payoff here isn’t the view—it’s the experience.

Red Tape & Bison Buddies

Panorama Point lies on private land, part of the High Point Bison Ranch, where Glen and Jill Klawonn generously allow access for a $3 donation (or more, if you’re feeling generous). The bison roam freely, and access depends heavily on road conditions—mud, snow, or ice can close things down quickly.

American bison grazing across open plains near Panorama Point, Nebraska, with winter grasslands and light snow in the background.

Photo: The vast plains where bison roam—just not when I was visiting. Better luck next time!

Fog, Frost, and a Winter Gamble

Winter high-pointing always comes with risk, and this day was no exception. I started the morning in Sterling, Colorado, checking the forecast and seeing warnings for heavy fog and an incoming snowstorm. There was no guarantee Panorama Point would even be open—but I went for it anyway. At worst, it would be an adventure.

The drive began calmly enough on paved roads, but once I turned onto dirt, the mood shifted. Dense fog swallowed the landscape, frost coated fences and fields, and the wind howled across the plains. There were no other cars, no people—just me, the road, and a growing sense of isolation. Every bump added a little adrenaline.

Fog-covered dirt road leading toward Panorama Point, Nebraska, with frost-lined fields and fence posts fading into the distance.

Photo: Embracing solitude on foggy dirt roads

Almost There

When I reached CR 111, the anticipation ramped up. Crossing into Nebraska felt like entering another world. A large “High Point / Bison” sign appeared as I turned onto Rd 5 W—confirmation I was close. Moments later, I reached the entrance: a red, ice-covered donation box waiting patiently.

I happily dropped in $5, thrilled the road was open and the gamble had paid off.

Foggy stretch of County Road 111 leading into Nebraska, with frost-covered grasslands and gravel road fading into low winter fog.High Point Bison Ranch welcome sign decorated for winter along a foggy dirt road near Panorama Point, Nebraska.

Photos: Cruising down CR 111 into Nebraska |
Welcomed by the High Point Bison sign—so close!

Red donation box and welcome sign at the entrance to High Point Bison Ranch near Panorama Point, Nebraska, coated in frost and surrounded by winter grass.

Photo: The entrance marked by the red donation box and
welcome / warning sign

A Frosted Final Stretch

The last mile felt surreal. Fog erased the horizon, wind rocked the car, and everything sparkled with frost. When I reached the summit, the landscape felt quiet, cold, and almost storybook-like.

Cattle guard and frosted dirt road leading toward Panorama Point, Nebraska, with fences and winter grass disappearing into dense fog.

Photo: Setting off on the final stretch

A Chilly Summit with a Side of Solitude

At the summit stood a simple monument marking Nebraska’s high point, alongside a frost-dusted bench and the familiar metal desk with the register. No bison appeared, and thanks to the fog, there was no view at all—but the stillness was striking.

Summit marker, steel register desk, and Highpointers bench at Panorama Point, Nebraska’s highest point, covered in frost and surrounded by fog.

Photo: The summit featuring the marker, steel desk with register, and Highpointers bench

At 18 degrees, with wind biting at my face, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment. This was summit #34—not flashy, not dramatic, but memorable in its own way. I signed the register, snapped a few photos, and retreated to the warmth of my car.

Smiling hiker taking a selfie beside the frost-covered summit marker at Panorama Point, Nebraska, surrounded by icy grass and fog.Close-up of the frost-covered summit marker at Panorama Point, Nebraska’s highest natural point, with frozen grass and fog in the background.

Photos: Summit selfie | Summit marker

Close-up of prairie grass coated in thick frost near Panorama Point, Nebraska, creating an icy winter texture.Frost-covered fence and frozen grassland near Panorama Point, Nebraska, disappearing into dense winter fog.

Photos: Frosted grass and a chilly, icy landscape

The Tri-State Tease

Before leaving, I hoped to visit the nearby tri-state marker where Nebraska, Wyoming, and Colorado meet. Unfortunately, the access road was closed, so I had to skip it. Instead, I headed north to Pine Bluffs, Wyoming, grabbed gas, then cruised east to I-80 and Cheyenne before turning south toward Fort Collins.

Gearing Up and Looking Ahead

In Fort Collins, I stopped at REI to finally pick up microspikes and a neck warmer—gear I’d been meaning to buy since a frosty Vermont high point reminded me winter doesn’t mess around. From there, I headed to Trinidad, Colorado, debating a detour to Amache National Historic Site.

Amache is a powerful WWII-era Japanese American incarceration site, but between feeling under the weather and learning the site is still developing, I decided to save it for another visit—one where I could give it the attention it deserves.

Knowing When to Pause

By the time I reached Trinidad, I felt awful. My next planned summit was Black Mesa, Oklahoma, an 8.8-mile hike—but common sense won. Instead of pushing through flu-like symptoms, I headed west to Flagstaff, Arizona, for urgent care and rest. Sometimes, the most important decision is knowing when to stop.

Final Thoughts

Panorama Point may not deliver panoramic views, but it offers something different—quiet roads, unexpected solitude, and the satisfaction of progress. Coming just a day after Mount Sunflower, Kansas, it reinforced how varied and surprising state high points can be. Whether you’re chasing all 50 or just passing through, this one is worth the stop—fog, frost, and all.

For official high-point details and access notes, the Highpointers Foundation is a solid reference. You can also find local context via the Visit Kimball County.

Catch you on the Summit!

Date of Climb: 4 January 2025

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