Laura M Clark

Taylor Mountain A – 13,651

RT Length – 10 miles

Elevation Gain – 4017’

I’ve been listening to a lot of Taylor this week, so it was only fitting I chose to hike Taylor Mountain A today. I made it to the snowmobile area (lower trailhead) around 3am, and decided to park here. There was one other vehicle when I arrived, and 7 when I left. This area can hold about 10 vehicles if everyone parks nicely. Be sure to park behind the red and white signs.

One of the deciding factors for parking here was the sign indicating the trailhead was only 1 mile away. This was only supposed to be a 7 mile hike, so I welcomed the added 2 miles distance. Note: The trailhead is actually 1.4 miles up this road, which isn’t a big deal unless you’re hiking and worried you ‘missed’ the turnoff in the dark.

The trail started off dry-easy-4WD, and stayed that way until I made it to the Boss Lake Trailhead. I could have easily driven my Tundra here.

About ½ a mile before the Boss Lake trailhead there was avy debris that had been cleared just enough to let a vehicle through

From here the road got a little muddy, but it wasn’t something that would stop a 4WD vehicle from making it to the trailhead.

I was very excited when I made it to the upper trailhead (I hadn’t past it in the dark!). There was a little bit of snow here, and no vehicles parked. There was room for about 4 vehicles total.

I followed the 230 for another quarter mile or so, realized I’d missed the turnoff to the 230C in the dark, and turned around. The turnoff was about 1/10 of a mile away from the trailhead.

The road became increasingly rockier but was still dry

On my way back I took a picture of the turnoff to 230C. It’s on the right side of the road. The intersection is easy to see in the light, but easy to miss in the dark, and as you can tell, the signage is well off the road (20 feet down 230C after the turn).

This is where the road really started to get muddy

There were tire tracks from an ambitious off road driver all the way to about 10,880’.

I started needing snowshoes around 11,000’, and didn’t see any other tracks in the snow

The road was easy to follow until it ended at the cabin area, and from here to treeline I was breaking trail. I turned right at the last cabin and navigated my way northwest through the trees, keeping the creek to my left and hugging the mountainside to the right.

I never came to a meadow, but this is most likely due to a recent (small) avalanche in the area. I just followed the avy debris to the bottom of a small basin

And followed the small gully to the top. The snow here was well consolidated, and even a bit icy.

At the top of the small gully I turned right

And looked for a trail that hugged the mountainside…

This was more difficult than it sounds. There wasn’t actually a defined trail. Well, maybe there was one 50 or 60 years ago, but I’d venture to guess this ‘trail’ hasn’t been use more than a handful of times recently. It’s more of a goat trail, completely overgrown with tundra. I took off my snowshoes here and didn’t need them until I made it back to this point.

Can you see the trail? Here’s a clue, go this way, under the rock and up the hillside

Eventually you’ll reach the ridge and turn left to ascend Taylor’s long ridge

I made it here just as the sun was beginning to rise. I got a nice view for a minute, but the sun quickly hid behind clouds for most of the rest of the morning

The rest of the route up Taylor Mountain A is a straightforward hike up the ridge.

I passed several neat mining sites on the way up

The terrain got increasingly rockier, but nothing too difficult.

I was actually hoping to make this hike a double summit and attempt Mt Aetna as well. However, I didn’t have any good beta on the ridge below Mt Aetna towards Taylor Mountain. I knew it usually holds snow, but I’d been hoping the ridge was clear enough to trek without snow on part of the ridge. Worried the snow would soften up too much for me to be able to climb Mt Aetna, I decided to check out the conditions there before summiting Taylor. I headed left, to towards the Aetna/Taylor Saddle

I made it to the ridge, and even before walking all the way to the end became disappointed: the wind had held at a steady 20-25mph all morning, but on this ridge I kept getting knocked down. The wind here was most likely well above 50mph, and while the route up to Mt Aetna looked to be in great climbing condition, I didn’t feel comfortable crossing the ridge in all this wind. I wasn’t entirely sure I could do it before the sun warmed up the snow either.

So I turned around and looked at the path back to Taylor Mountain.

This didn’t look too difficult, and indeed, it wasn’t. A bit rocky, and a few of the rocks were loose, but they weren’t going to tumble down below me or cause a rockslide. The most they could do is put me off balance. I navigated the rocks along the ridge

Stopping in the middle to take a picture of the route through the avalanche area to the basin and up the ridge

I summited at 7am

Summit Video

Almost immediately the sun came out from behind a cloud, and I was pleased with my decision not to attempt a summit of Mt Aetna today, guessing I’d only be making it to the snow now as the sun rose.

I turned to head back down Taylor’s South Slope

Stopping for a little bit in the mining area to take some more photos

Here’s a picture of the ridge between Aetna and Taylor

I made it to the ridge, turned right, found the old miner’s trail, and followed it back down into the basin, humming as I hiked

I followed my earlier snowshoe tracks through the avalanche area, down through the trees, and back to the trail, where I was able to see remnants of old cabins in the daylight I hadn’t seen in the dark.

I made it back to my truck at around 10am, making this a 10 mile hike with 4017’ in elevation gain in just under 6.5 hours.

All in all, today was a fabulous day! Now to drive home and take my daughter to the movies before she heads off to camp for a week.

Cronin Peak 13,872

RT Length – 11.5 miles

Elevation Gain – 4510’

Today became a ‘Surprise! You’re free to hike!’ day at the last minute, which I quickly took advantage of because I was unable to get out last weekend. Luckily the weather cooperated as well. The 2WD road in to the Baldwin Gulch Trailhead was completely clear and dry all the way to the lower 2WD trailhead.

In the dark I could hear and kind of see Chalk Creek. It sounded like it was raging and looked dangerously close to reaching its banks in some areas. I seriously wondered if it would start to overflow later in the day. I’ve driven up the 4WD #277 road before, and even if it was open I didn’t much want to drive it again, so I parked along the side of the road (in the dark not seeing the lot just before the trailhead) and got my gear ready.

I was on the trail just after 3am.

The #277 Baldwin 4WD road was worse than I remember it from 2017 and I was immediately glad I’d chosen to park at the 2WD area. The road was in full spring conditions, with a river of water running directly down the road.

After following the road for about 2 miles I came across avalanche debris blocking the way. It wasn’t too difficult to navigate around, even in the dark, but it looks like it’s going to be there for a while and vehicles can’t cross the area.

If you do decide to drive up the 4WD road there are 2 camping spots with parking for 1 car each before you get to the avy debris. The last spot is located at 10,530’. It’s also the last place to turn around before the debris. I’d just recommend parking at the bottom and hiking in though, as it’s an easy hike.

After the avy debris the water on the road really picked up. It seemed the creek was overflowing its banks here and I easily crossed through a couple inches of water for hundreds of feet

There was also evidence of moose in the area along the trail, but it didn’t look too recent. I made it to the first Baldwin Creek crossing while it was still dark. I couldn’t see how deep the creek was, but my plan had initially been to rock hop across the creek on the boulders to the left. I got about halfway across and had second thoughts: the rocks were slippery and some were under quickly flowing water. I was going to have to jump to make the last few and would most likely end up in the creek in the process. So I backtracked and thought about what to do.

I don’t feel safe crossing streams barefoot, and I hadn’t brought extra shoes/sandals/socks, so if I was going to ford the creek I was going to have to complete the rest of the hike in wet shoes with soggy socks. This did not sound appealing, and I knew soggy socks would turn into ice socks when I got further up in elevation. I gave my summit a 50% chance of happening if I forded the creek but knew if I stopped now that number dropped to 0%. I decided to go for it. In the dark I studied the water and looked for the safest area to cross. This ended up being close to the mouth of the creek. I put my electronics in my pack, adjusted my trekking pole, and took a step in the water. Woot! My foot stayed dry! The rocks were not as slippery as I’d imagined, but I was still careful and gingerly crossed the stream. I took three more steps before my hiking shoes slowly started filling up with water.

I made it to the other side of the creek without incident. The only casualty was my wet feet. I kept hearing squish-squish with each step I took. This was not going to be enjoyable. Oh well, on I went.

It wasn’t long before I came to the second creek crossing, and since my feet were already wet I didn’t hesitate and just walked through this one as well.

This is where the snow started. Since it was still early morning it was consolidated and I was able to walk on top of the snow. As I continued up the trail I encountered more and more snow.

About a mile after the first Baldwin Creek crossing I turned right and entered the trees, aiming for where I mentally knew the willows area should be. I immediately sank up to my waist in snow, but I’m stubborn, so I had to sink about 10 more times in the next 10 more steps to break down and put on my snowshoes. From then on out I didn’t posthole (much). Oh, and my wet toes were beginning to freeze inside my wet socks.

I didn’t feel like I walked very far before I was in a clearing and could see the willows and the rest of the path before me. The sun was also starting to rise, which was nice. Here’s the route I took, staying out of the trees and going straight up the gully

Luckily there was a small snow bridge over the creek in this area, so I didn’t need to get my feet wet again. I could hear the water rushing underneath, and asked myself if the snow bridge would still hold me this afternoon on my way back?

After crossing the stream I navigated around the trees, sticking to the left (southwest). As it rounded I turned west and followed the gully on consolidated snow.

There are a few options from this point to gain the ridge and summit Cronin. One is to take the north ridge, but the scree here didn’t look appealing. Also, there were goats enjoying their breakfast and I didn’t want to disturb them (but it was mainly the scree that made the decision for me).

So I continued following the gully up and to the left (west)

I still had options for gaining the ridge, and decided the safest option was to kind of parallel the ridge as I gained elevation. Here’s the path I took to gain the ridge

My socks were now frozen. I could feel the ice between my toes, but surprisingly they weren’t cold. I decided not to question it and kept going. Gaining the ridge wasn’t difficult, but the snow was starting to soften up.

I gained the ridge close to the false summit, and could see the rest of the trail in front of me. There was just enough snow to walk on and goat tracks to follow.

From the false summit there’s a little bit of a downclimb and I’d been told it included some tricky footwork, but the snow obscured any difficulties. I postholed here once or twice up to my waist, even with snowshoes on.

The ridge was one long but squatty cornice. I stayed to the right on the snow and walked where the snow met the dirt.

On the final push to the summit the snow got increasingly softer but was still navigable.

I summited at 7am, and set up my camera with my new gorillapod (which isn’t at all what I’d expected: poor quality but gets the job done).

Summit Video:

(For some reason I said Casco, but I was on Cronin. Whoops! Oh well… my fingers were too frozen to try a second time.)

Check out Antero

It was windy and my feet were now solid blocks of ice, so I didn’t stay long on the summit. I turned to look back at the way I’d come

Here’s the route I took back

The snow was warming up quickly so I got out my ice axe. It helped me through some quick sketchy sections

The most difficult part of the day was just beginning. This snow section here below the ridge was rapidly warming and became slippery. I had to walk slowly to prevent slipping, yet wanted to make it down before the sun warmed up the snow even more. I couldn’t believe how soft the snow was for 7:30am!

I made it to the top of the gully area, said hi to the goats, and breathed a sigh of relief: I hadn’t slipped once!

Here’s a look back at the route

And a look down the gully

I made it back to the willows, following the tracks I’d made on the way in. My feet had finally defrosted and I was squishing again. From here I decided while I was hiking through the trees I would aim for the ridge directly in front of me

I made my way to the snow bridge and looked back at the mountain. Cronin looks better in daylight!

The snow bridge still held my weight

Once in the trees I walked northeast until I made it back to the road. I’d overshot my entry point by a few yards, but was pleased with my navigation skills. My toes had almost dried by the time I made it to the first creek crossing. Both creek crossings were much easier in the light of day, and with the added bonus of previous experience I just walked across them both. I followed the road back to my truck, taking pictures in the daylight of the fun I’d had in the morning, my feet squishing the entire way. I made it back to my truck at 10am, making this an 11.5 mile hike with 4510’ in elevation gain in 7 hours.

Chalk Creek hadn’t overflowed its banks, but it was raging! Here’s a picture from further down the road

Bull Hill A – 13,758

RT Length: 7 miles

Elevation Gain: 3775’

I picked Bull Hill because I needed something easy for today so I could be home by noon to meet a friend. The weather forecast was perfect (no wind, 50s at the summit) and I was tired from Friday’s climb but didn’t want to waste a great opportunity to get out and hike.

This was my third attempt at Bull Hill this year. The first time I got turned around before making it to the trailhead due to unexpected heavy falling snow and a road closure. The second time I had no problem making it to the trailhead, but even after a hard freeze I was postholing up to my waist and couldn’t find the trail. I ended up turning around shortly after the creek crossing. Today I learned what a great choice that had been!

The trailhead is easy to get to but difficult to find. It’s located at exactly 12.5 miles down the 82 from Granite. Turn right and there’s a small parking lot that will hold 4 cars if you all play nice.

I started at 4am. From here walk about 10 yards and turn north on an unmarked trail.

This trail is super easy to follow, as it’s an old 4WD road. There’s quickly a stream to cross that gave me some pause in the dark. I couldn’t tell how deep it was and it seemed to be flowing pretty fast. I walked up and down a bit, looking for a better area to cross, but this was it.

I decided I was wasting too much time on this: I had on winter climbing boots, so I decided to just walk across the stream. I started out the hike with wet feet but they quickly dried. The trail followed the stream, and here was where the “fun” began

And by fun I mean postholing. This was by far the worst experience I’ve ever had postholing. Every step I took on snow for about 2.5 miles I postholed. Over and over and over again. I knew this was a possibility going into this hike (it had happened to me last time, even with a hard freeze) and I just gritted my teeth and continued on, sinking to my knees with every step. Yes, I was wearing snowshoes, which helped, but they weren’t needed 100% of the time.

They were needed just enough to make taking them off not worth it

I followed the ill defined (due to the snow) trail to a gully, and took switchbacks up the south ridge. The switchbacks seemed unnecessary.

OK, so postholing isn’t fun, and I was getting tired of it. I came to an unexpected avalanche (although this year they seem to be the norm) and considered what to do?

It looked like this area went straight up the slope, but I wasn’t entirely sure the path was safe, so I continued on for another few switchbacks, the snow getting deeper and the postholing getting more aggressive as I went.

I switchbacked over to the gully once again and took another look.

This time it looked like it went all the way to the mine, and the snow in the gully was very consolidated. It didn’t take me long to pick consolidated-snow-gully over postholing-switchbacks. Yes, this was the way to go! I turned to look back over my shoulder and thought this was a cool view of La Plata and Ellingwood Ridge

I took the gully until it met up again with the road below the mine. The road here was covered in snow, but not a lot of the surrounding terrain had snow.

I stopped for a bit at the mine to rest. My quads were killing me! That type of postholing had been the 4 letter word type of postholing. I was not looking forward to a repeat of that on my way down. After applying sunscreen (yes, I did get sunburned on Friday’s climb of Thunder Pyramid) I took a look at my next step: To gain the ridge in front of me. I decided it was best to keep my snowshoes on and looked for a line that would get me to the ridge

There was just one rocky area to climb over

And by looking left I could see the rest of the route before me

This was by far the easiest part of the entire day. The slope was gentle and had enough snow for me to keep my snowshoes on.

The only downside was a false summit that took me by surprise, but it was close to the actual summit so I didn’t mind too much.

I summited at 7:45am

Summit Video:

I was amazed at how calm everything was! There wasn’t any wind, which was amazing. This is the first summit this year I haven’t needed to wear snow clothes to hike, but where there was still a ton of snow!

I turned to head back down, making sure to stay right (the ridge to the left goes the wrong way and has a massive cornice, but they look similar, so stay right)

Halfway down the slope I made a new friend! Ptarmigans have great camouflage.

From the ridge here’s a look back down at the mine and the route I took back to the gully

There was a busy marmot running to and from its den

I decided to have a little fun at the Last Chance Mine, just because I could and I knew I had postholing to look forward to (ok, I was stalling)

Doesn’t it look like a lot of fun?

I again followed the snow covered road back to the gully

And hiked back down to where I’d entered the gully earlier

I briefly considered taking the gully all the way back down to the stream, but wasn’t sure if it went the entire way. I found out it didn’t, so if you plan on taking the gully instead of the switchbacks you need to wait until the last set (see map)

The postholing was actually a little better on the way down because I could re-step in my previously made postholes, which meant more stability. The creek crossing wasn’t too bad in the daylight. My feet got wet again but I was close to my truck and warm socks so I didn’t mind.

I made it back to my truck at 9:30am, making this a 7 mile hike in 5.5 hours: I blame it on the excessive postholing and the Last Change Mine. You should be able to complete this hike in much faster time.

Relive:

Thunder Pyramid 13,944

RT Length: 11.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 4697’

I did a ton of research on this one, as I didn’t want to have to attempt it twice. I’d been watching the weather for the past few weeks for this peak, and now that the road was open into Maroon Bells I figured this would be my best chance of making this peak a snow climb this year. The night before the attempt I was re-reading previous conditions reports and someone mentioned they’d have liked to have had 2 ice picks for this peak. This seemed curious to me, but if someone’s going to give honest advice I was going to take it. The only problem: It was 6pm and I didn’t have a second ice axe. I gave it some thought, and a wild idea came into my head: I wonder if I could use a hammer? Probably not the best idea, but maybe just bring it along just in case? I went to the garage to find a hammer and found a very cheap adze hoe I’d bought at the dollar store last year. It had three prongs, was very lightweight, and I thought this looked even better than a hammer! I had no intention of relying on this as my only source of stability (I brought along my ice axe) but I thought I’d have it “just in case”. I got out some paracord and made a quick leash for it and attached a carabineer to it and put it in my pack, never intending to actually use it.

When I made it to the trailhead there were two other vehicles in the lot. I got my gear together and as I was ready to go I noticed a young man getting his gear ready, so I went over to talk with him to see which peak he was climbing. He was a bit surly (which I attributed to it being 2:30am) and he told me he and his friends were going to snowboard down Pyramid. I wished them luck, put on my helmet (so I wouldn’t forget to later) and was on my way.

I was surprised to find they’ve recently roped off Maroon Lake (on my way out I saw dozens of people step over the rope for pictures, so unless they have personnel there monitoring visitors I don’t think the ropes are going to make much of a difference).

The trail was dry until I hit 9950’, about half a mile before Crater Lake. Luckily the snow was firm so I didn’t need to put on my snowshoes. Crater Lake was covered in recent avalanche debris, but even in the dark it was easy to navigate through.

After Crater Lake the trail pretty much stopped: it didn’t look like anyone had been out hiking past Crater Lake yet this season. There was a thick layer of snow and what seemed like avalanches everywhere the trail was supposed to be, so I just worked my way through the willows and followed Maroon Creek as best I could. I postholed a bit in the camping area, but otherwise the snow was firm. It was about here I turned around and saw someone’s headlamp in the dark. It looked like someone as hiking North Maroon Peak this morning, and making good time. Cool!

I never saw the creek crossing as it was covered in snow, and in the dark I accidentally went too far and had to backtrack. When I made it back to the correct spot to ascend the first access gully I noticed an avalanche had occurred here as well. The good news is it makes it easier to see your entire route. Here’s the route I took up the first access gully.

This was much steeper than it looked. At the base I put on my crampons and looked for a good route. Boy, was that steep! The snow was consolidated enough to need crampons, but the slope angle was so steep I couldn’t just walk up it either: I needed to kick in steps. I decided to take out that adze I’d brought with me and try it out. Kicking in steps was difficult because the snow was so hard. I’d kick about 15 times for each step.

However, the adze was amazing! In fact, I liked it better than my ice pick. It wasn’t practical for self arresting, but those 3 prongs were great for traction! I had the adze in my left hand, and once in the snow it felt more secure than my right hand did holding my ice axe. Wow!

It’s really important to pick your line from the base of the mountain because once you’re climbing the terrain is very steep and it’s hard to tell where the actual summit is. This is the route I took.

From the top of the first access gully I needed to ascend a band of cliffs. This is the route I chose to take

After the cliff bands there’s over 1500’ of gully to climb. This sounds straightforward enough, but the route was really, really steep. Added to that there were unavoidable frozen roller balls and avy debris littering the whole route.

It wasn’t lost on me I was climbing up a slide area, but the entire mountain was a slide area. The debris on the mountain was actually helpful while upclimbing because it gave my feet stability (most of the time, when it wasn’t sliding out from underneath me). I knew I was climbing on a ticking time bomb: as soon as the sun warmed up the mountainside all this debris would become slush and slide (hopefully after I’d made it down). I tried to decide if it was safer to hike down the slide areas or on the firm snow on steeper terrain that looked like it was about to slide. I wasn’t sure?

Progress was very slow going. If I were to lose my balance and fall self arrest would be difficult at this angle, and I was going to slide a long, long way if that happened. So I couldn’t fall. I made sure each step was secure, having at least 3 points of contact at all times. This entire stretch required kicking in steps, often times on terrain that fought against me. Did I mention the adze? It was amazing!!! I didn’t care how silly I looked, I was so glad I’d chosen to bring it along.

I was in a race against the sun, and kept reevaluating my current situation. The snow was firm and I was making good (if slow) progress, but I told myself to stay out of harm’s way I needed to make it to the top of the gully before the sun crested the saddle. If the sun made it before me, I was going to have to turn back for safety reasons.

Most of the trip reports I’d read said to take the right gully, but that wasn’t an option for me as the safer terrain today was to the left. I topped out of the gully at a small saddle between Point 13,820 and Thunder Pyramid. Here I stopped to catch my breath. I’d done it! I’d beaten the sun! Woot! It was now a quick 300’ or so climb to the summit. But was that really the summit? I took out my phone and pulled up Peakbagger. Yep, that was it: I needed to go right. I put my phone away, took off my crampons for the climb, crossed the saddle and sank up to my arms in soft snow.

Drat! I seriously had to hurry! The sun was going to warm up the mountainside fast. Here’s the rest of the route

Whoops, my camera was still covered in snow from that unexpected dip. Here’s a better picture of the route I took

It looks steeper than it is. I’ve heard this is class 4-5, but I was able to keep it at class 3-4.

I made it to the top, took a quick selfie (my gorillapod is still broken: another’s on its way so hopefully this DSLR-selfie thing can stop soon)

And booked it back to the saddle. Pyramid is looking wonderful this morning

As are the bells

The sun was heating things up fast but Thunder Pyramid was still (mostly) in shadows

I put my crampons back on, grabbed my ‘tools’, and began descending. I descended a little more to the right than I’d summited, with the intention of climbing the smooth snow instead of the avy debris (which I was worried would fall). Solid line is how I summited, dotted line is how I descended. Neither was better than the other.

I had to turn and face the mountain the entire way down, and wouldn’t you know it? Slick as snot. This side was no better, and probably worse.

If anything, there seemed to be more avy debris here, none of it stable.

I tried to avoid the areas that had recently slid because they were very, very slick. I was also happy to see some of my kicked in steps on the way back down!

Evidence of wet slab avalanche

Downclimbing was just as hard as climbing up, with the added anxiety of making it down (safely) before things started to slide. I made it to the top of the cliff bands and was finally able to turn around and walk down

The snow was seriously starting to soften up fast. I kept increasing my speed until I made it to the cairn at the top of the first access gully. Here was where I could finally breathe a sigh of relief: I was out of the danger zone! I figured it was time for some self care: I reapplied sunscreen (knowing on my way down I’d already done some damage), took off my gloves (it was warm here!), exchanged my crampons for snowshoes, and looked back at the route I’d taken down the cliffs.

I also took a picture of my ‘tools’. I was so thankful for the conditions report that suggested I bring 2 ice axes! The adze wasn’t an ice axe but it had proven extremely useful. I was glad to have had it with me.

Just as I took this picture I heard a loud pop and then a crash that sounded like thunder. It startled me at first, until I realized one of the waterfalls had warmed up and dropped a bunch of ice down its chute. Then I heard it again, and again, and again. The entire basin had warmed up at the same time and was filled with icefall. I’d made it down in perfect time! Woot! I sat there and waited for the crashes to stop, just enjoying the experience while I was there.

But I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I’d thought I could descend via the avalanche area and skip going back down that steep access gully, but when I made it to the avalanche area it cliffed out

Ugh! I had to backtrack up to the cairn and get out my tools one more time. The snow was very soft at this point, and I should have just glissaded down the access gully, but I didn’t want to take off my snowshoes (etc) so I turned and faced the cliff and descended in rapidly softening snow.

After heading down I turned right (instead of left, the way I’d initially made my way in the dark) and was able to safely descend via the avalanche area. This will probably be the new route

Here’s looking back on the route

And now to head back down the basin to Maroon Lake.

The willows were much easier to navigate in the daylight, but unfortunately I was postholing in the snow. There was avy debris hugging the base of the mountains, so I tried to stick to the creek as much as possible.

Maroon Creek is beginning to thaw

And the avalanche area covering Crater Lake didn’t look so intimidating in the daylight

Oh, and you haven’t experienced spring snowshoeing in Colorado until you’ve snowshoed over avy debris. There’s no other experience like getting a pine branch stuck in your snowshoe. And don’t bother removing it: another one will take its place with your next step.

It was really nice to hear all the birds chirping on my way out. After Crater Lake the crowds picked up and so did the slush. I was very thankful to have my snowshoes. Every tourist I passed commented on how ‘smart’ I’d been to bring them. Ha!

The last part of the trail was over a path with just enough rocks to slow you down, but at least it was snow free.

I started at 2:30am and made it back down at 1:30pm, making this an 11.5 mile hike/climb in 11 hours.

Disclaimer: I’m NOT advocating the use of garden tools in place of proper mountaineering equipment. There are tons of reasons why this was a bad idea, but in the end it worked out well. The next day I went to REI to buy a second tool. I asked an employee for help, and she couldn’t recommend anything to me at the moment (apparently ice climbing gear isn’t in season in June). The only thing she could recommend was a second ice axe, exactly like the one I currently have (which I thought was overkill, too much weight, etc.). So I’m currently in the market for an ice pick for my left hand and keeping the adze in my pack until that happens. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

Track:

Thunde6 Thunder 8

Mt Wilcox 13,408 & Otter Mountain 12,766

RT Length: 8.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 3221’

I’d already considered this a successful Memorial Day weekend: I’d climbed 3 peaks in the San Juans without (major) incident. Saturday I did all the “mom” stuff: Washed all the sheets, did the laundry, went shopping, vacuumed, re-planted a few plants destroyed in the storm last week, and took my daughter ice skating. As we were having dinner I asked my 16 year old what she wanted to do tomorrow? Sleep and study for finals. Hmmm… it looked like I had another morning free to hike! I didn’t want to do anything too far away because it was Memorial Day and I wanted to make something special for dinner, so I did a very quick search of peak conditions and settled on a peak I didn’t need much info to hike: Mt Wilcox.

Mt Wilcox is generally done as a loop with Argentine Peak and Square Top Mountain, but I’ve already done both other peaks previously and just needed to tick off this one in the area, making it the perfect choice for this morning.

Yes, Mt Wilcox seemed like a quick and easy 13er, and there was a close 12er I could hike if all was going well. I didn’t do much research but I also couldn’t find much information in the 10 minutes or so I spent gathering information. I looked at a few trip reports, printed out a shaded topo map and was ready to go.

I arrived at the Guanella Pass Campground / Silver Dollar Road trailhead at 4am and was on the trail by 4:15am. I put on snowshoes in the parking lot and kept them on for the entire hike. I did not regret this decision: they were a bit overkill in the morning, but very helpful on my way back.

I followed the Silver Dollar Road Trail for a little over a mile. The road was still covered in a few feet of crunchy ice.

I followed the road all the way to Naylor Lake, which was covered in ice as well. I steered clear, but it looked like others had recently tried to ski across it?!?!?

There were a few cabins here, some mostly covered in ice. There were footprints and ski tracks everywhere.

At the lake the trail ended and I headed Northeast through the trees and up a small gully to treeline

My beta told me to ascend here, to which (in the dark) I said nope.

There had to be an easier way! I decided to trek along the small basin to see if there was an easier way to get up and over this part. I knew from looking at my topo map once I got above this area the terrain would just slope. I came to this point and thought to myself “this is doable”, picked a line, and made my way up.

9-2

It was still pretty steep, but nothing as dramatic as the suggested route. It’s amazing how snow changes things! On the topo map this area looked very similar to Elkhead Pass, which I was unable to downclimb, yet this was manageable.

I made it up this difficult area and then was greeted with a long white climb up snow

Every so often I’d look back, waiting for the sun to rise. The Sawtooth looks pretty cool!

I kept heading west until I could see the summit of Mt Wilcox. When it came into view I thought to myself “That’s it? That looks too easy!”

What I didn’t realize was it’s much further than it looks. I had a hard time focusing on the path ahead of me because I kept turning around to watch the sunrise. Alpine sunrises are the best!

They turn the snow pink for 5 minutes or so

The snow here was very consolidated and easy to navigate. I wasn’t making any tracks though

This hike wasn’t very challenging, but it didn’t seem like I was getting any closer to Mt Wilcox

I’d climb over one area, just to be greeted with another slope

The summit was snow covered, with amazing views!

The hike to the summit hadn’t taken me very long and I wasn’t tired, so I decided to head over to Otter Mountain.

This was very easy. I hiked northeast down the slope of Mt Wilcox to about 12,300’ (losing about 1100’ in elevation) and then just ascended Otter Mountain

Here’s a look back at Mt Wilcox from the base of Otter

The only downside (besides the 400+ feet in elevation gain I had to regain) was the sun was rising as I was hiking up Otter Mountain. I was hiking directly into the sun, which was less than ideal

I kept trying to race the sun, trying to make it to the shadows, hiking faster than it was rising, and when I was almost to the top I won!

The last 100 feet or so in elevation gain were on dry tundra, so I took off my snowshoes and hiked the rest of the way with them in my hands

Yay summit views!

I summited Otter Mountain at 7:15am

Otter Summit Views:

One thing I really like about 12ers is it’s easy to breathe while you’re hiking to the summit. I turned around to look at Mt Wilcox and the path I’d taken

Time to head back. I knew I could just take the slope of Otter Mountain down to the parking lot,

But I wanted to get day pictures of the hike, so I made it a loop. I stayed high to avoid the drainage area (which was a serious drop from every angle). Here’s the path I took back

Just Because…

And a look back at Otter Mountain and the route I took from the Mt Wilcox ledge area

Time to try and find my tracks and head back down! Another reason I wanted to make this a loop was to see how difficult the downclimb would be. I can climb up terrain no problem, but the downclimb still puts me on edge sometimes, and I considered this great practice without too much commitment (a fall wouldn’t be too far and it would land me in the willows).

I hate saying this, but once again, it’s steeper than it looks

I made it down successfully to the willows

And trekked back to Naylor Lake. It looked like someone had been skiing in the area recently. As I passed the cabins I noticed a “No Trespassing” sign near an open gate. Note: in the dark on the way in I hadn’t seen the gate OR the “No Trespassing” sign. It wasn’t reflective and had been covered in snow. The gate was 90% covered in snow, open, and had tracks going straight through it. The rest of the hike was done in slushy conditions, even though it wasn’t yet 9am. I was glad I’d worn snowshoes. I made it back to my truck at 9am, making this an 8.5 mile hike in under 5 hours. I made it home by 11:30am, 30 minutes before my promised 12pm arrival.

OK, so obviously all I thought about on my way home were those “No Trespassing” and “Private Property” signs. I was mad because I hadn’t realized this was private property and because I’d been following tons of footprints (meaning others hadn’t been respecting private property either). I was mad at myself for not doing more research before the hike (I hadn’t checked maps that would have given me this information) and I was upset all the trip reports I’d looked at (although few) hadn’t mentioned private property and I’d taken their advice. Also, I kept seeing NFS trail signs, so I had no idea I was on private property.

The first thing I did when I got home was look up a map and find a way to fix this. I didn’t have this map on my trek: I made it when I got home. (The topo I had just had slope angle and terrain, and didn’t include the lakes (etc)). Please don’t take my route (the dotted line). There’s another route you can take to the left of Naylor Lake that will get you around the lake, looks easier than the route I took in some areas, and will keep you on public lands.

Also, I will gladly donate tons of Girl Scout cookies to the Naylor Lake Club as penance (and you should close your gates and put up reflective signs for us early birds if you don’t want trespassers… just sayin’).

The best part about my hike? I met some friends by the side of the road on my way down!

Relive:

Oh, and Memorial Dinner was a great American dish: Beef with Broccoli (but at least I grilled the beef on the grill before adding the glaze… ).

Point 13,820

RT Length: 13.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 4938’

So far this weekend nothing was going as planned. I took a 2 hour nap before getting up at 10pm to drive the 6 hours to the trailhead. I’d wanted to hike Point 13,811 today but ended up getting “lost” (apparently there are two Williams Creek Trailheads geographically close to each other) and long story short the workaround was a 3 hour drive, so I missed my window to climb Point 13,811 safely yesterday. What really stinks is I’d printed out the correct directions, set my GPS to the incorrect campground, and when my GPS took me a different way I didn’t challenge it, I just figured I was headed in the back way (face palm). Lesson learned.

Well, I’d driven all this way and wasn’t going to drive back without a hike. I switched my plans and decided to hike 13ers Baldy and friends instead.

After hiking Baldy and friends I drove the 30 minutes to Lake City and the William’s Creek Campground. There was tension in the air in Lake City. The residents seemed to be on edge, and for good reason: Avalanches have closed the popular 4WD roads in the area and now the residents are worried of flooding when those avalanches thaw. Apparently so are the tourists because they aren’t here. This is Memorial Day weekend, and the city looks like a ghost town.

I drove to the campground and was surprised to find not one of the campsites was taken. Not one.

I stopped to talk with the camp host and she told me she’s never seen it like this before. Her voice was quivered as she worried it would be like this all summer. I told her I was just interested in sleeping in my truck near the trailhead but wondered what to do since the trailhead was inside the campground? Should I just park on the road and hike in? She told me to just pick any spot I wanted and I could camp for free. I offered to pay, and she refused. Wow!

She was also concerned I was going out there by myself with “all that snow”. I told her I’d be fine and I’d be gone by noon, but if my truck was still here at night she could start worrying about me.

The trail starts at the back of the campground between spots 11 & 12, so I backed my truck into spot #12 and prepared to make it an early night. A quick wet-wipe bath, 4 packages of tuna, a roll of Ritz crackers, and 3 shots of whiskey later I was sound asleep (by 3pm).

I woke up twice during the night but was able to quickly get back to sleep. When my alarm rang at 2am I was not a happy camper (I’m not a fan of sleeping at trailheads: getting up is the hardest part) but forced myself out of my warm sleeping bag and got ready for the hike. I made myself eat a bagel as well (I don’t like to eat in the morning, as it makes me nauseous while hiking, but I knew I needed the calories). I was going to drink water on this hike too for two reasons. 1) I was dehydrated from not drinking anything yesterday (except 3 shots of whiskey) and 2) hydration is important. I just hoped it didn’t make me nauseous.

I’d done so much research and knew I wanted to make it to treeline as the sun rose, so I needed to be on the trail early. It was 4.5 miles of intense elevation gain to make it to treeline, so I started today at 2:30am, passing through the gate between sites 11 & 12.

The first part of the trail was dry.

The trail was easy to follow as it crossed a few streams and skirted the south side of the mountain. The stream crossings were a bit tricky in the dark, as everything was slippery and loose and the water was flowing fast. Any logs you see that look stable over the water are in fact, not.

I could see lots of evidence of deer/elk/moose in the area (all 3 determined by the scat I saw) but didn’t see any wildlife.

The trail passed by a few ponds. The first one I had no trouble navigating in the dark

The second one is where I had some problems. The correct thing to do here is to go left and hug the side of the slope. In the dark I didn’t know this and instead followed what I thought was the trail (but was really the creek). Luckily this only lasted a quarter mile or so and I was back on track. I didn’t even know I’d done anything wrong until I was hiking back and could see the obvious (and dry) trail above me. The solid way is the way you should go, the dotted one is the way I took. My advice: stay high, stay dry.

Directly after I found the trail again I was in a rocky basin. However, I didn’t know this at the time, I just thought I was following a good trail (with a little bit of solid snow). On my way back I realized it was a rocky basin.

Here’s where the “fun” began. We’re currently right in the middle of spring thaw after an intense winter season. At this point the trail conditions became less than ideal as the spring melt became a river in the middle of the trail

You can imagine how much fun this was to hike in the early morning dark when it was still pretty icy. I came to a small meadow and followed it through what had become a springtime marsh

This area did not smell good: It smelled infected. Just after the meadow is where the fun began, as I was now on a very small and “defined” jeep road. There were several areas with large downed trees covering the trail. On my way back in the daylight this wasn’t difficult to navigate, but as I’ve found quite a bit lately, navigating downed trees in the dark isn’t a pleasant task. Luckily they were all within the same 200 feet or so on the trail.

Oh, and remember how the trail was covered in ice and water earlier? Now it was covered in ice and water and snow! So much fun! I hopped back and forth, trying to stay on the snow. Luckily it was consolidated and not too difficult to accomplish.

Here the trail became difficult to follow again due to the conditions. I was able to find the “jeep road” again at this point (here I’m looking back)

The steady snow began at 11,000’ and never stopped. The road was initially easy to follow, and then around 11,500’ I lost it.

In the dark I had no idea where the road had gone, but the snow was getting a little slushy so I put on my snowshoes and looked at my topo. I needed to head east to summit the mountain in front of me (12,000’). I aimed east and forged my own trail, amazed at how deep the snow was in this area.

I made it to treeline, where both the wind and elevation gain quickly picked up. I was excited to get to the top of this hill (which was point 12,195)

Here’s looking back on the way I came up to treeline

My plan had worked! I’d made it to treeline just as the sun was beginning to rise

I took another sip of water and considered: I now had a clear view of the path to the summit. Here’s the route I took

It looks easy and straightforward, and it is, but there are a few things you should know:

Point 12,195 and Point 12,483 are not ranked (I know, bummed me out too!)
- Neither is Point 13,632
The elevation gain is steeper than it looks
It’s longer than it looks (about a mile and a half, maybe more)

So I started on my way. I skirted Point 12,483 and started hiking the hill to the east (it looks like you can just go straight and hike the adjacent hill but you’ll hit a gully). So, you hike up and when you reach a small plateau you turn right and head north to the summit.

From the plateau if you look left you can see Point 13,632, and to the right is Point 13,811

I headed north to summit Point 13,811. Here the snow changed and changed and changed, from consolidated to postholing to very slippery ice. This is the route I took. I took the dotted line up, and the solid line down.

I would NOT recommend taking the dotted line route. I repeat, DO NOT TAKE THIS ROUTE. It was nasty scree mixed with ice or snow, neither which provided any traction on the 30-35* slope. A fall here would tear up your gear and your hands if you weren’t wearing protection.

From halfway up I got my first good view of another centennial: Point 13,832 (and took a few more sips of water)

I summited to intense winds on a small cornice.

There was no place to set my camera where it wouldn’t slide down the peak so I did my best to get a selfie (sorry, it’s terrible) and looked around

I’d really wanted to hike over to Point 13,832 today and get in both centennials, but I didn’t feel secure on that ridge. In fact, I’d kind of expected it to be more wind-blown. I’d just hiked across snow that looked similar, and the conditions varied quite a bit. Parts that looked secure were not, and parts that didn’t look solid were. I didn’t want to fall and slide that far unsupported. The fall line was so long I couldn’t get it all in one picture

And so I mentally prepared myself to drive the 6 hours back to Lake City sometime this summer to knock off that other point. Time to head down. As I said before, this last 200 feet of vertical or so was not pleasant. I wasn’t going to do that again on my way down. Not going to happen. But the ridge wasn’t much better: It was all ice at a sharp angle, and when the ice gave way rocks went with it. I’m not gonna lie: I turned and faced the mountain at times for this part. Also, I love my ice axe.

I made it to the small saddle and looked at the rest of the route down

And started to get nauseous. Ugh! I knew this would happen! Well, at least I was descending in elevation. Here the snow had varying conditions as well, but less danger of injury

I made it to Point 12,483, over Point 12,195, and back down the trail, following my tracks below treeline. Here I discovered things I hadn’t seen in the dark (the correct trail, stream crossings, navigation around downed trees, rock piles, etc.) and a few things I hadn’t seen in the dark (notice the spider?)

Oh, an old beaver dam…

I was almost done with the hike when I came to a fork in the road I hadn’t remembered, and decided to take the path more traveled. This ended up being a mistake (although not an unfortunate one). I quickly came to a trail register I hadn’t seen in the dark. It was designed for hikers over 7 feet tall, so someone had placed a large rock at its base. I still couldn’t see inside.

Now I was in a meadow. I wasn’t entirely sure I remembered a meadow at the beginning of this hike? Hmmm… things are different in the dark

As I walked through the meadow my arms started to hurt. You know what I’m talking about: your arms get sore from elevation and the blood pools in your hands and you do the “Praise Jesus” walk through the woods. Well, I was doing it now through the meadow

And then I saw houses? Wait. Uh oh. This wasn’t right, but I immediately knew what had happened. I exited the meadow and saw a sign I hadn’t seen on my drive in: A sign for the (correct) Williams Creek trailhead. Because of it’s placement you can’t see it driving in unless you know it’s there, but you can see it driving out.

I turned right and immediately saw the campground sign. Hmph. OK, so I guess I hadn’t needed to enter the campground to find the trailhead.

I felt really dumb, but not really because at least I knew where I was. I walked back to the campground, through the campground to my campsite, and stopped the clock. I made it back at exactly 11:11am

I’d hiked 13.5 miles with almost 5000’ of elevation gain in 8.5 hours.

Oh, and check out my pants. I seriously need a new pair of winter pants. I’ve had this pair since 1998 when I bought it at a garage sale for $3. Last year my crampons tore a hole in them, and I’ve been sewing them up ever since, but I think it’s time for a new pair. This hole collects snow when I hike, which means I can stop every 5 minutes or so and unload 5lbs of snow-turned ice or I can carry it in my leg, limping unevenly as I go.

Added to that they’re bibs, which makes using the facilities unpleasant; especially when it’s cold outside. I’ve been looking for new snow pants for quite a while but I can’t find any in my size, and yes I’ve checked Goodwill and in children’s sections. Any petite ladies out there have advice on buying snow pants that fit (and preferably look good)? I think I’m seriously in the market for a new pair at this point…

On my way out I stopped by and thanked the Camp Host, wishing I had something to offer her in return (since she wouldn’t take money). Usually I give out Girl Scout Cookies but I didn’t have any this time. She asked me to let people know Lake City is open, half of the city is in no danger of flooding, and she’d love to have some campers! If you get the chance this summer, consider camping in Lake City at any of the campgrounds along County Road 30. They’re open (and empty). I drove through the Mill Creek Campground and it didn’t have any campers either…

“Baldy no es Cinco” 13,313 & Baldy Cinco 13,383

RT Length: 10.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 3357’

So far today nothing was going as planned. I took a 2 hour nap before getting up at 10pm to drive the 6 hours to the trailhead. I’d wanted to hike Point 13,811 today but ended up getting “lost” (apparently there are two Williams Creek Trailheads geographically close to each other) and long story short the workaround was a 3 hour drive, so I missed my window to climb Point 13,811 safely today.

I’d driven all this way and wasn’t going to drive back without a hike. I switched my hiking plans around and decided to hike Baldy and friends today instead. I drove faster than I should have and I made it to the Spring Creek Pass trailhead at 6:45am (after leaving at 10pm last night). It had snowed overnight and it was really cool seeing a black moose in contrast to the white snow on the ground and hanging from the trees. This lifted my spirits a bit (moose was too far away to get a good picture).

When I arrived at the trailhead it was covered in a layer of ice a couple inches thick so I decided not to park in the parking lot but just at the entrance to the road.

I’m sure this was going to make some people mad when they arrived later in the day, but I tried to allow as much room as possible so after the ice melted other vehicles could drive past. And to be fair, a snow plow had put a foot or so of snow at the entrance to the parking area, so I guessed they expected people to still park on the road.

I’d planned on studying the route while spending the night at the trailhead (you know, after hiking point 13811 today), but since that didn’t happen I was just going to bring along my notes and hike from memory. On a positive note, I was starting this hike in the daylight, so while there was no visible trail route finding was easy. I’m pretty sure this is the first hike I’ve done this year that’s started before sunrise.

I crossed the road and a small creek and looked for an obvious sign of a trail. There wasn’t one, but I knew I was aiming for the bowl, so I started hiking southeast. Once again, I was glad I was doing this in the daylight.

The trail follows the Colorado Trail, but with all the snow last night there was no clear path to follow. I was excited when I saw a trail marker (woot! I was headed the right way!)

From this marker I turned left and headed towards the trees

Looks like someone lost a snowmobile…

I encountered a clearing and once again entered the trees, aiming for the gully that led to the bowl/mesa

Wow! This was so cool! I made it to treeline and followed this drainage path. At first I wasn’t sure this was the correct way (it looked a bit dangerous), but it was

Why was it dangerous? Check out those cornices! They looked ready to drop at any moment (and in fact, a few already had).

OK, so I headed directly up and over the lip of a bowl that’s steeper than it looks

And everything was white. I was on top of a very large mesa that had just been dumped on with snow.

View from Mesa:

I turned around to look at my path back down the bowl

Time to get my bearings. The mesa was large, but the peaks I’d intended on hiking were obvious. I wasn’t able to find a lot of information about these peaks, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect or the best way to attempt the climb. I decided to cross the mesa and pay attention to optional routes, making sure to look behind me every so often so I wouldn’t get lost on my way out (a real consequence in all this snow). The wind was erasing my tracks as soon as I made them.

As I got closer to “Baldy no es Cinco” (which means “Baldy is not five” in Spanish) I noticed a trench and was worried I wouldn’t be able to cross the area, but by sticking to the right (east) I was able to avoid losing too much elevation or entering the trench

Here’s the route I took up “Baldy no es Cinco”

Please note, I would not advise taking this route up. It gets very steep and I needed to use my ice axe and crampons, and it felt sketchy at times.

Luckily the snow was very firm. If I were to do this again, I’d hike to the saddle of “Baldy no es Cinco” and Baldy Cinco and hike the ridge.

The reason I hadn’t done this was my research had told me to just hike up the face (that’s the problem with no winter beta) and honestly, the snow was blinding, even with sunglasses on. You can probably tell by these pictures they’re overexposed and I’ve been trying to darken them up so you can see details. I wasn’t able to see details very well, and I couldn’t tell how big the cornices were on the ridge, so I didn’t attempt the saddle. In any event, I’d advise you to take the saddle.

The last bit to the summit was the easiest part of this climb. It was a bit icy and windy, but the ice made for great traction (the wind I could have done without).

I summited at 9:15am. There was a massive cairn on the summit that begged to be in my summit photo.

“Baldy no es Cinco” summit video:

I decided to take the ridge from “Baldy no es Cinco” over towards Baldy Cinco

Also, the entire way down the ridge towards Baldy Cinco was one large cornice.

Here’s a look from the saddle back up at “Baldy no es Cinco” and towards Baldy Cinco.

The hike up Baldy Cinco wasn’t challenging. The terrain was a mix of ice and rock, with cornices all over

The summit was icy rocks

I summited at 10am

View from Baldy Cinco:

Here’s looking back at “Baldy no es Cinco” from the summit of Baldy Cinco. Check out those San Juans!!!

At this point I should have just turned around and headed back down the slope of Baldy Cinco, towards the mesa and down the bowl. In fact, this would have been another great way to summit these two peaks. (Summit up Baldy Cinco, take the ridge to “Baldy no es Cinco”, and descend using the saddle)

But it was still really early (10am) and I knew there were more peaks out here, calling my name. I looked over at Point 13,162A and was seriously tempted. I didn’t have any beta on this peak, other than its location. Once again, check out those cornices!!!

What you can’t see in this photo is the dramatic drop in elevation (topo suggests 800’). I decided to go for it. Up close the cornices were intense

I made it to the saddle and re-assessed where I was at. Here’s a look back at Baldy Cinco and up at Point 13,162A.

The snow was starting to act up here. It was getting warmer and the snow was crunching and breaking under my feet, sending cornices falling. I was starting to get tired, and wanted to save my energy for tomorrow’s hike (which had way more mileage/elevation than today’s hike, which is why I’d initially wanted to do that one first).

Ugh! I’d just descended 800’ in elevation, only to find a change in conditions. I decided to head back and attempt point 13,162A another day (with unnamed 13510A and unnamed 13020C as well).

I knew in my head the route back was southwest to the mesa, but the snow was seriously blinding and I didn’t know the area “that well” (read: I could see myself getting lost if I attempted to find my way back to the mesa with just a topo map). So instead of trying to route find in the blinding snow I decided to re-ascend Baldy Cinco to find my way back. Don’t worry, I didn’t re-gain the 800’ I’d lost, just enough elevation to see my way back visually (about 500’).

I skirted Baldy Cinco and headed here (where I found a huge cairn! See, that would have been the way to summit Baldy Cinco. Oh well, today I got to be the beta).

At the cairn I saw something green flying through the air. Cool! Someone was speedriding! They were zipping all over the mesa at high speeds. I was able to see their snowmobile sitting in the middle of the mesa as well (great idea btw).

For those of you intending to hike up Baldy Cinco first via this route, here’s a look from the cairn up at the summit of Baldy Cinco

From the cairn you might think you just head towards the obvious depression in the mesa, but this is not the way to exit. I was seriously glad I’d looked back over and over again at my route so I’d know how to exit the mesa. It’s not obvious. In fact, it’s counterintuitive: you head away from what looks like the exit and continue to the straight part of the mesa that looks like a drop off

The snow on the mesa had changed dramatically: it was now quite soft under my feet and I was sinking in my snowshoes about 6-8 inches every time I stepped (quite a change from this morning). I was so excited to see the Colorado Trail marker!

As you can see, it looks like you just drop over the mesa (which you do)

It’s a quick drop back into the bowl. Here I started seeing snowmobile tracks (it’s steeper than it looks)

The tracks followed mine most of the way to the trailhead. Very cool! He’d re-treaded my tracks, making the hike back easy. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for hiking next to/over snowmobile tread, so I decided to play it safe and just hike out parallel to the tracks (where possible).

When I got back to the parking lot it had indeed melted out and there were a few other vehicles parked in actual spaces

I made it back at 12:30pm, making this a 10.5 mile hike in 5.5 hours.

Ok, now I was headed to fix my earlier mistake and head to the correct trailhead. Lake City, here I come!

Relive:

Mt Belford 14,197 via Missouri Gulch and Elkhead pass

RT Length: 9.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 4536’

I’ve been eyeing Emerald Peak for a while now, doing research and looking at feasibility for summiting this time of year with the heavier than normal snowpack. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to find much information (ok, any) for summiting with snow. I did see a report from June of one year saying Elkhead Pass wasn’t passable, but it didn’t explain why it wasn’t passable.

I looked at a topo map and studied the slope angle of Elkhead Pass: it didn’t look that steep. I know a lack of reports for peaks over specific months usually means there’s a reason no one has summited during that time of year, but I wanted specifics. I decided to be the beta and go out and see just why Elkhead Pass isn’t passable in winter. And hey, maybe it was? Maybe it was passable with more snow?

The drive in to Missouri Gulch was easy on a well maintained 2WD road.

I arrived at 2:45am, surprised to be the only vehicle in the parking lot. Hmmm… this is a pretty popular 14er trailhead. This didn’t make much sense, especially for a Sunday. Maybe I was just the early bird. (Nope, my truck was still the only one in the parking lot when I got back?)

The trail starts at the south end of the parking lot. You go left at the signs, cross a bridge and turn left to follow the class 1 trail up the mountain.

There’s immediate elevation gain that doesn’t quit. I rather enjoy this hike (this was my third time here). It’s always a little creepy hiking in the dark past the baby grave though. The worst part is I know it’s there, but never actually see it in the dark because it’s just a little ways off the road. So I know I’m passing it somewhere, but never actually know if I’ve passed it or not. (Anyone ever figure out why it’s so far away from the other graves?)

The trail conditions varied from bare to a couple feet of snow, but there’d been two hard freezes the past couple of nights so I didn’t need traction.

About half a mile before the cabin I came to the avalanche area. There was an avalanche here a few weeks ago, but I’d heard it was passable. It was, even in the dark. The beginning required a little creativity, but once I was in the avalanche area there was a clear path to follow that had been made by other hikers.

If it doesn’t snow again I’m pretty sure this will be the new route.

This new route picks up with the old one just before the cabin. Here the snow picked up as well and I put on my snowshoes. There was a full moon this morning, which really made the gulch come alive.

I followed the basin on my own path as the trail was covered in snow (at least most of the time). I made it to the junction for Elkhead Pass and Missouri Mountain and turned left (east).

I started hearing and seeing ptarmigans as the sun began to rise (here’s looking back at the way I’d hiked in)

I followed the basin to Elkhead Pass, which was surprisingly easy: I’d expected more of a challenge.

At this point I was beginning to think I was actually going to summit Emerald today. I took a closer look at the Missouri Basin (not the gulch, which I had just come from) and planned out my intended route. I was trying to decide if I should head over to Iowa or Emerald first, but from this distance I couldn’t tell what the snow conditions were on the ground, so I decided I’d decide when I got there.

I started heading down Elkhead pass and immediately turned around. Snowshoes weren’t going to do it: this was steeper than it looked! Ok, crampons on, time to try again. I could see where I needed to go, but I just couldn’t get there. The pass was a sieve for wind: Intense wind that didn’t often let up. On top of that the ground was slick like a frozen waterfall (probably due to warming during the day and freezing at night) but the ice was covered in about 3 inches of soft snow deposited by the wind. It made for an awkward small-cornice-like structure that seemed to extend all the way down the pass. And the drop down was serious! This picture shows the easy part of the decent (camera was put away for the more difficult parts, sorry!)

I made it past the ice covered rocks to the snow covered ice and retreated up, back the way I’d come.

At the top of the pass I once again tried to look for an easier way down, but the snow blanketed everything and I couldn’t tell where the icy-snow pass ended and the basin-snow began. I also couldn’t truly get a feel for how steep anything was just by looking. I tried again, made it about 30 feet down, and once again felt unsafe as I couldn’t get a good hold with my crampons. A big gust of wind picked up and I hugged the side of the pass for a good minute or so waiting for it to stop, and then I used my ice axe to climb back to the top of the pass. Seriously, it didn’t look this steep on the topo map! I made it to the red circle twice.

16 Elkhead Pass

This was frustrating. Climbing up was no problem at all (I’d done it twice already), but the down climb wasn’t happening. I felt confident someone could make it over this pass; someone with more skills than I or maybe a backcountry skier (it looked skiable, but I don’t backcountry ski, so I’m not sure). Today I was not going to make it over this pass. The problem here was, due to the wind, there wasn’t enough snow, just ice. In fact, I didn’t like the look of it at all, and will most likely attempt Emerald next time from the Rockdale Trailhead. At this point, I’d rather do Little Bear again than Elkhead Pass (seriously, summer or winter, I felt safer on Little Bear, and that’s saying something!).

Enough complaining. I was here, what did I do now? I’d taken a good look at Missouri Mountain on my way in, and that was a big nope. I turned around and immediately decided to hike up Belford from where I was.

No, I didn’t have a route description or instructions, but I’d summited Belford before and knew it was just… well, right there. It looked very doable, so I decided to go for it. Here’s the route I took:

I kept heading east to the top of the ridge (the wind wasn’t stopping)

And then followed the ridge north towards the summit of Belford

I turned and looked back on Elkhead Pass: It really didn’t look that difficult, did it? (Sigh)

The ridge had areas of deep snow that I much prefer to icy rocks, so I put on my snowshoes and headed north

Halfway along the ridge I paused to take a look at Oxford.

It looked like fun, but there was a storm coming in and I didn’t want to get stuck in it all the way over there, so I waved and kept heading towards the summit of Belford.

I was a little worried about the last bit of climbing, but once I was there it wasn’t so bad

I summited to amazing views and intense (intense!) wind

The wind was so intense it kept knocking my camera over, so I took a selfie instead (with my DSLR)

Belford 2

I love how this mountain has a summit marker!

OK, time to head back and make this a loop. The only downside was I hadn’t hiked up the north slopes and I’d passed them in the dark, so I wasn’t sure of their current conditions. I thought to myself I could always turn back and descend the way I’d hiked in if I needed to. I paused and tried to remember which way was down? I knew there was a huge gully I wanted to avoid… I was pretty sure this way was the correct way down?

I headed that way and found a cairn (woot!) and what might have been a trail. I turned around and looked at the way I’d come

And now I was headed down…

This was actually trickier than it sounds. While I couldn’t much get lost here, the rocks were very unstable, as were much of the large areas of snow. I did not feel secure on any of the snow on the way down: it all felt ready to fall. The wind didn’t help either.

After about 300 feet the steepness mellowed out and it was a rocky walk down the ridge, avoiding the gully and slipping on the very loose rocks every 20 feet or so (I have a bruise on my bum to prove it)

There were also long sections of snow (I kept putting on and taking off my snowshoes). Here’s looking back up at the way I came down

Back in the gulch I knew there wasn’t a trail, so I stayed high on the snow and made a beeline for the cabin

Here’s the route I’d taken earlier in the morning from the gulch to Elkhead Pass.

Just past the cabin I was able to see in the light of day what the avalanche had done. It hadn’t been a big avalanche, yet it had altered the route of the trail. Here’s the way back to the trail

The rest of the hike down I thought about what had happened today. I was a bit bummed about Emerald, but had only given that a 25% chance of success to begin with so it wasn’t the end of the world. Time to start researching alternate routes (I know there are a couple). I was excited to discover you can summit Belford from Elkhead pass. In fact, I thought it was a much easier route than the north slopes. If I were to summit Belford again I’d absolutely chose to take Elkhead Pass, as it makes the elevation gain easier.

I made it back down to my truck at 10am, making this a 9.5 mile hike (it felt like more) with 4536’ in elevation gain (it felt like less) in about 7 hours (much of that time spent trying to navigate the pass).

Here’s the Relive

Summit Sticker can be bought here

Rosalie – 13,579 “Epaulie” 13,537 West Pegmatite Points 12,227

RT Length – 14.5 miles

Elevation Gain – 5920’

Sometimes hiking in the Spring is similar to hiking in the summer, in that you still need to be off the mountain before noon to avoid encountering storms, but spring storms tend to include snow. Today’s forecast called for 70% chance of snow after 12pm so I decided to get an early start. I arrived to what I thought was the trailhead around 3:30am only to discover I was not in fact at the trailhead. You see Google couldn’t find the Deer Creek trailhead so I just set it for Deer Creek Campground and figured I’d find the trailhead from there. I made it to the campground, drove through, and took a dirt road .8 miles only to arrive at a locked gate. I figured this was the trailhead so I found a place to park, got out my gear, and walked to the gate, only to discover this was instead private property, I was being filmed, and there was no public access. OK, so I went back to my truck and tried again. It seems you don’t actually enter the campground, but at this sign turn right and follow the road to the end to find the Deer Creek Trailhead.

This is listed as a 4wd trailhead and I agree, much of the year it’s probably a 4wd TH, but today it was navigable by most 2wd vehicles. There was only one short area where it would give me pause if it was raining, but I’m confident most 2wd vehicles can make it to the trailhead today. It’s located on a well maintained road with several overflow spaces for parking along the road itself.

I made it to the new (actual) trailhead and in the dark couldn’t tell if I was seeing snow or mud or rocks so I just parked as near the entrance as possible for easy exit. I was the only car in the lot when I arrived and when I left, despite this being a Friday (oh, and the parking lot was dry, so I could have parked anywhere).

The trail begins at the west end of the parking lot. I knew I was at the right area immediately because I saw this sign

And within a quarter of a mile I saw this bridge. I hadn’t been expecting a bridge, but I crossed it and continued following the dry trail

This is a well maintained class 1 approach, but in the dark I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up navigating around a bunch of downed trees. I discovered on my way back I was taking an old trail that was closed due to said downed trees, but in the dark the obvious trail wasn’t so obvious. So, if you’re hiking in the dark note: If you come to an area that’s not passable in the dark stick to the creek. There is an easy trail to follow, (as long as you don’t lose it…)

I crossed another log bridge in the dark

And came to a junction. Here you go right and take the Tanglewood Trail (not the Rosalie trail, even though you’re going to Rosalie).

Shortly after this junction there’s a trail register. A permit is required to hike here. It’s free and you just fill out the information. It just lets you know what Leave no Trace is and asks you follow basic trail etiquette. You let them know how many people are in your party and leave the top half in the box. There were plenty of permits and pencils. I filled one out and continued on my way.

I lost the trail once again for a short while when I encountered old avalanche debris, but turned towards the creek and found the trail again. Once again, this was a “my bad in the dark” kind of situation. In daylight there was no issue.

I was now about 2 miles in and the snow began to cover the trail.

Due to the warm temperatures last night I immediately began postholing. What’s funny is I started seeing tracks that looked like moose or elk tracks. I spent a considerable amount of time trying to decide if they were Elk or Moose, but they looked like both? In the beginning they were confined to just an inch or two of postholing, but eventually the animal(s) were postholing knee deep or more as well. I bet they’re looking forward to the snow being gone.

There were tons of tracks and I was confused because some looked like elk and some looked like moose. I figured the area was more conducive to moose as the willows and creek provide their food source, but I was seeing mixed evidence of both. And then I came upon scat. Tons and tons of scat, and it became evident there are both moose and elk in the area, and probably some babies as well.

The snow didn’t stop until treeline, and if anything the postholing got worse. I was stubborn and didn’t put on my shnoshoes until I made it to the willows, where they were absolutely necessary.

Here I again lost the trail but knew I just needed to gain the saddle so I headed west up and through the willows, only sinking to my waist a handful of times. Oh, and did I mention the elk and moose scat? It was covering the floor of the willows; piles and piles at a time. And those buggers make their own trails through the willows, which stop when they look like they go (and vice versa). This is definitely an area they bed down in.

Just heading towards the saddle…

Here’s where I was headed

There hadn’t been much of a sunrise (no alpenglow) but I was pleasantly surprised there wasn’t a cloud in the sky! This was great news, as there were many peaks I was interested in summiting today and it looked like the weather was cooperating. I gained the saddle and turned left to follow the ridge

This ridge was mostly a gentle ridge. I was lazy and didn’t want to take off my snowshoes so I kept to the snow even though it was avoidable.

This ridge is longer than it looks, and the snow towards the middle gets steep (but nothing too dramatic, snowshoes were fine). I just kept aiming towards the next landmark (rock) and hiked on.

I made it to what I thought was the summit only to be greeted with the true summit in the background

I kept going another quarter mile or so to the summit of Rosalie

The summit was rocky and dry. I summited at about 7:50am

Rosalie Summit: Rosalie

I had some great views of a couple of 14ers, but I was headed towards another 13er: “Epaulie”. I could see some clouds gathering in the background and the wind was picking up, but I wasn’t too worried about the weather; I had until noon for snow, right?

Hiking down to the saddle of Rosalie/”Epaulie” I took off my snowshoes and navigated the rocky slope. At least the rocks were stable.

The entire hike to the saddle I kept my eye on “Epaulie” and tried to decide on the route I wanted to take to the summit

Looking at “Epaulie” from here I thought taking the right side would be a good choice since there was continuous snow, but as I got closer I realized just how steep that snow was and decided to head left instead. This ended up being a good choice. Snowshoes and an ice axe were a good choice as well, as the snow was very consolidated, smooth but rock hard, and steep. Here’s the route I took

Towards the top the snow gets very steep and I was thankful for my ice axe the last 50-75 feet or so. And btw, those are very large rocks encases in ice/snow, not dirt.

The summit made for some fun bouldering

I’m not sure when I summited because it was quite windy and I was keeping an eye on those clouds, which were moving in fast! I took a summit selfie with my DSLR and kept my cell phone in my pocket.

I looked over at Epaulet Mountain. I’d wanted to summit this unranked 13er also today, and the weather was looking pretty good towards Epaulet, but those clouds back over Rosalie were worrying me.

I gave it a quick thought and remembered there was a ranked 12er close to the saddle on my way back down. In the end I decided not to summit the unranked Epaulet and to instead head back and attempt the ranked 12er (if the weather held out). I figured it was better to be closer to a bail out point if the weather turned. It looked like the weather was anxious to get started early this afternoon.

I exchanged my snowshoes for crampons for the way down. Again, another excellent choice.

I turned around and re-summited the rocky Rosalie (taking off my crampons for this part)

And looked at my intended route towards 12er West Pegmatite Points.

This looked easy enough, and in front of me the path seemed clear of weather (but clouds were increasing behind me). I headed down towards the saddle and about halfway down felt my backpack give a quick pull, but didn’t think anything of it until about 200 feet later where I decided I should probably check it out. I took off my pack and it was open! Drat! I rummaged around to see if I’d lost anything and only counted one crampon. Ugh… I needed that crampon for Sunday’s hike. I looked back up the slope and saw something blue and shiny up above. That was my crampon all right. I was going to have to backtrack and trudge up to get it!

I made my way back up the slope and quickly discovered the snow was getting quite slushy. It couldn’t have been past 10:30am, yet the snow was melting fast! I needed to get down to that saddle.

I slogged my way to the saddle and was feeling great so I decided to head over to West Pegmatite Points. There is no route, so I followed the ridge up and over as far as it went

Here’s the path I took, right at these rocks

And around them

Up a small slope to gain the ridge

And then across the ridge to the summit. There was a lot of fun rock scrambling but I’d still keep this at a class 2

I took a quick summit photo and the wind told me my half of hair had come undone sometime on the hike. I was getting strands hitting me in the face, so I quickly re-braided it and without another hair tie just used one to secure both braids. I’m sure I looked amazing…

A storm was coming in from the west, and while the above picture doesn’t suggest a storm, right about now is when it actually started snowing. Just little bits that flew in my face, but I knew more was to come, so I quickly gathered my gear and headed back towards the saddle, aiming for the rock outcropping.

From the saddle I put on my snowshoes and just headed down through the bristlecone pines and willows towards the creek I knew flowed in the trees.

When I made it to the willows I actually found the intended trail and was able to easily follow it all the way back down. It’s amazing how much easier route finding is in the daylight!

I kept looking for those elk/moose, but feared I was making too much noise in my snowshoes and was probably frightening them all away. The snow picked up and felt absolutely amazing on my face! I was flushed and seriously considered putting my face in the creek just to cool off (but didn’t…). Yes, the trail was much easier to follow in the daylight, and I never came upon those downed trees that stumped me before and actually crossed a stream I hadn’t on my way in…

I made it back to my truck at 1:30pm and checked my stats. Whoa! I’d been expecting a 10 mile hike with about 4700’ in elevation gain, yet I’d done 14.5 miles with 5920’ in elevation gain In 9 hours! The best part was I wasn’t even that tired (which I attributed to the relatively “lower” elevation of these 13ers and 12er when compared to the other 13ers and 14ers I’ve been doing lately: breathing at altitude goes up exponentially and tires you out!)

Here’s the Relive: Relive

Oh, and there was a small snowbridge to cross just after the snow begins, which was questionable. It doesn’t look stable and didn’t feel stable either. I crossed it in snowshoes so if it broke I’d have stability in the water, but be careful with the rising temperatures crossing these things!

Also, I was glad I had microspikes, snowshoes, crampons, and an ice axe for this hike. I kept changing them out (and at times didn’t wear any of them) but felt good having them all. Oh, and postholing is never fun!

Mt Parnassus – 13,574 & Woods Mountain – 12,940

RT Length: 7.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 3781’

Today was Mothers day, and what better way to celebrate than to go on a solo hike above treeline and let my kids sleep in? Yep, that’s what I thought too, so I made plans to be out and back before my kids woke up (they’re 16 and 20… they’ll sleep until 3pm if I let them).

I couldn’t sleep, so around midnight I decided to just get up and go hiking, even if it was a few hours earlier than intended. I made it to what I thought was the Herman Gulch trailhead to a locked gate at 3:30am, got out my gear and began my hike, only to quickly discover I was not hiking the correct trail. It was immediately obvious and I knew my mistake, so I went back to my truck and re-parked it at the very accessible and open Herman Gulch Trailhead. There were bright orange signs warning me of avalanche danger.

The trail starts just behind the information sign, and follows the Herman Gulch trail west.

The trail was free of snow until I made it to the Herman Gulch / Waterous Gulch Junction. From here on out the trail contained continuous snow, but traction wasn’t necessary for a while. I turned right (east) at the junction.

As I rounded the ridge the snow immediately began to pick up, and in the dark I foolishly tried to walk up what turned out to be a path of solid ice. I immediately slipped and tried to catch myself, but ice is like glass and I cut up my right hand trying to brace myself against the impact and to latch onto something I could grab when I fell. It actually wasn’t that bad, but there was a lot of blood (it hadn’t been cold enough to put on my gloves yet, so my hands didn’t have any protection). I sat down, took off my pack and put my right hand in my mouth to clean up some of the blood while rummaging around my pack with my left hand, searching for my crampons. It looked like someone had taken a snowboard down the trail and smoothed it out, which is great for skiers and snowboarders but it made hiking up the path similar to hiking up an ice chute. Microspikes weren’t going to cut it this morning: I needed crampons. At 9000’.

I stuck my hand in the snow and it immediately froze and the bleeding stopped. I kept my crampons on for most of the hike, mainly because I was too lazy to take them off and they weren’t getting in the way. The trail through the trees was easy to follow as this must have been a popular hike yesterday.

There were several parallel ski lines, but all tracks led to the same area. There was also evidence of several avalanches in the area. Most looked to be many years old, but some looked recent.

After about 2 miles I crossed over to the Waterous/Bard trail junction. I could hear water flowing underneath me, so this might be a creek in the summertime but it was covered in several feet of solid snow this morning.

This is where the ‘trail’ stopped. I turned left and continued on the Waterous Gulch trail for about 1/3 of a mile along the east side of Waterous Gulch

My research told me to hike up the west slopes of Mt Parnassus to the summit, so I turned right (east) here and started up (in the dark, so I couldn’t tell just how steep these slopes were at the time). I needed my ice axe, especially just before treeline as this area was loaded with steep snow.

What awaited me was 2000’ of elevation gain in about a mile. I made it past treeline just as the sun was beginning to rise

The only downside? This is where the wind picked up, and I mean picked up! The forecast had called for 15mph winds today, but these were much higher, and sustained. The wind didn’t seem to care about one direction or another: it kind of swirled around as it blew past. I put on my balaclava and every time I saw a gust coming turned and braced myself against the mountain, waiting for it to pass. It was too early to put on my goggles, so shielding my eyes was especially important, as it felt like shards of glass were flying at my face.

Every time there was a break in the wind I’d look ahead, find a new landmark, and hike towards it. Here’s the route I took over the first hump

And second hump

And third hump (these sections are all much longer and steeper than pictures make them look)

Until I could finally see the summit!

That wind hadn’t let up so I didn’t stay too long on the summit.

I took a summit photo that didn’t turn out too well because of the wind and blowing snow

And waited for a lull to get a shadowselfie. Check out all that snow! Amazing for the middle of May!

Take a look over at Bard Peak. I’d really wanted to make this a double summit today, but those winds weren’t letting up. They’d been at it since I’d hit treeline and showed no sign of stopping. The wind was making clouds out of the snow on the ridge, continuously blowing it up into the air. This ridge looked spicy without the wind, and with it downright dangerous: Those cornices were made up of loose snow. I could tell because the wind was picking it up and throwing it around without too much trouble.

Well, that was a bummer. I guess I’d just head back the way I came. And then it hit me: Woods Mountain was just across the way, and while it isn’t a 13er it’s a respectable 12er (12,940’). I’d just head over there and get in a double summit that way. So I turned and headed northwest towards Woods Mountain (and away from the wind).

Almost immediately my crampons became cumbersome, so I took them off and exchanged them for snowshoes. Ahhhh! Much better! I turned to look up. Yep! That’s steep!

I made it down to the Woods/Parnassus saddle in no time and looked back at the way I’d come

And my way up Woods Mountain

This was going to be easy! The only downside? The saddle was a bit windy as well.

The slope up Woods Mountain was long and gentle and didn’t require any rest.

It didn’t feel like it took very much time to summit (and here the winds calmed down)

From the summit I looked back at Parnassus and the other 13ers I’d intended to hike today. I sighed: the wind was still at it. Oh well, this just means I’ll have to do the Engelmann-Robeson-Bard trek later.

I turned and looked at the way I was supposed to head down the mountain, behind Woods’ south slopes, and on to Point 12805, but it just didn’t look…. safe.

So I turned and looked back at the Woods/Parnassus saddle and studied the terrain.

I got out my topo map and concluded it was safe to head back to the saddle. I took the solid orange line back down to Waterous Gulch. The dotted orange line is the way I summited Parnassus.

Oh, and I could see a solo hiker taking the same route I had up Mt Parnassus. That meant someone else was out here today. Cool!

The wind started picking up again when I made it back down to the saddle.

I turned right (west) and headed down towards the gulch. Just before treeline I turned back around and looked at the way I’d come

Video from below saddle: Bard/Parnassus

I turned back towards the gulch and followed the drainage to a small gully

The bottom of this gully ended in Waterous Gulch, about 200 feet from where I’d turned to start my long trek up to the summit of Mt Parnassus. I quickly came to the realization it would have been much easier to just have used this small gully to gain the saddle between Woods and Parnassus to summit Mt Parnassus rather than to have climbed Parnassus’ west slopes. I’d recommend just taking the gully. The dotted line is the way I summited, but as you can see, the solid path works just as well (if not better).

Back in Waterous Gulch I picked up my earlier trail and followed it back to my truck, taking pictures in the daylight for future use. The snow had warmed up and the icy section from this morning now gave a little as I descended (so no slipping!). I made it back to my truck at 9:30am, making this a 7.5 mile with 3781’ elevation gain in 5.5 hours. I was a bit disappointed I hadn’t made it over to Bard Peak, and with that missing the added mileage and elevation (I wasn’t even tired…) but on the positive side I’d make it home before noon, and it was Mother’s Day, so I should wake up the girls and do something to celebrate.

Here’s the Relive: