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Author: Laura M Clark
Laura has summited over 500 peaks above 13,000' solo, including being the first woman to solo summit all of the Colorado 14ers, as well as the centennials. After each hike, she writes trip reports for each one and publishes them on her blog, which is read by fans all over the world. Author of Wild Wanderer: Summiting Colorado’s 200 Highest Peaks, which is available to purchase on Amazon.
The weather just about everywhere in the state today was forecasted as miserable. Everywhere except for Quandary (even the 13ers and mountains adjacent to Quandary were forecasting snow). Quandary showed clear weather from 4am-2pm so I decided to make the best of the situation and work on my winter 14er goal for the year.
I slept an extra hour this morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve hiked in the daylight, and now that my youngest has her license and I don’t need to be home quite so early every time I hike. I had the ability and wanted to start out hiking today with light. The roads were terrible on my drive in for most of the way. The worst tended to be in the cities (looking at you Woodland Park) but surprisingly the back highways were mostly clear. In any event, due to ice on the roads I didn’t go above 30mph the entire way so I didn’t arrive until after 6:30am.
The upper trailhead was closed so I parked at the lower trailhead. This adds about 100 feet to the hike so it was no big deal.
I was surprised to find 3 other vehicles in the parking lot when I arrived. I reminded myself this was a popular 14er, even in winter time, and I’d gotten a late start.
The path was easy to follow up the dirt road to the start of the trail. It was just beginning to get light out, so I didn’t need my flashlight (woohoo!).
I’d read from a conditions report yesterday there was no trail, but quickly found the upside to others being here before me: They were trenching the trail! It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve had someone else trench a trail for me. In fact, it was only one other time and I can name the date: Evans, my 2nd 14er, June 2017, and it wasn’t the trail they trenched but the last bit to the summit.
The trail today was quiet and peaceful and I enjoyed just walking through the snow.
Well, all except for my snowshoes. Today I’d decided to see if my microspikes had any effect on the bindings of my snowshoes, and apparently they didn’t: They come undone whether or not I’m wearing microspikes. Sigh. Oh well. It’s not too big of an inconvenience, but they should really replace these things with ratchet bindings so they don’t come undone. Or add another way to secure the straps.
I was appreciative of the group before me, trenching lazy ‘S’ curves up the mountainside.
But just after I took this picture I caught up to the group and decided to take over trenching: They’d done such a good job and must have been tired. They deserved a break and I wanted the exercise. The difference between their trench and mine was theirs gradually gained the slope: I just trudged straight up the ridge.
I continued hiking until about 13,100’, crossed a flat ridge and saw the rest of the route before me
It was here with 1000’ left of elevation gain I decided to try out the heel lifts on my new snowshoes. I take back everything negative I’ve ever said about these snowshoes… well, everything except the need for ratchet bindings. Those heel lifts are amazing!!! Where have they been all my life? They made an insane difference, and I was flying up the mountain.
About halfway up I turned and looked around. I knew there were at least 5 people behind me, but they were nowhere in sight. They must still be below the ridge.
OK, this was all I had left. Time to book it to the summit
OK, maybe a little more
Wait, what?!?! What’s this? There was a large grouping of snow where the summit should have been. I was going to need to cross this in order to officially claim I’d summited. I took one step and sank up to my knees. Hmmm. This snow was not stable and I wasn’t sure what was beneath (I found out later it was just a flat summit and I most likely could have walked straight across). I decided to play it safe and stick to the right. It was slow going, slippery, and unstable. Here’s looking back from the true summit.
I set up my camera to take a photo and got one shot before my camera died (well, stopped working until it warmed up again). So here’s my one summit photo… Good thing this isn’t my first summit of Quandary.
It was snowing on all the mountains all around me, and while the snow was headed towards Quandary it didn’t look like it would make it here. It seemed like I’d chosen the correct peak to summit today! And: Quandary with no wind? That’s unheard of! I started my trek back down. I made it halfway down the ridge before seeing anyone else.
I’d wanted to hike Hoosier Ridge today, but the weather was forecasted as better on Quandary, and indeed the forecast had been correct as it was now snowing on Hoosier Ridge. I took a good look at it for tomorrow and marked in my mind the features I could see.
I stopped along the flat section to get a few pictures
And noticed some goats!
I was only able to see them due to the trails they were making in the snow, otherwise I’d never have known they were there.
OK, time to get serious about heading down. Check out that trench!
As I descended I kept seeing more and more people working their way up: snowshoers, skiers, and some hikers just wearing microspikes. I wasn’t sure there was enough snow to ski, but there sure were a lot of skiers out today. I don’t really understand 14er skiing. It’s not that I don’t like to ski, it just seems like a lot of work for a “you get one” kind of experience. Also, I don’t want to become addicted to another sport, especially something that involves snow, so I’ll leave the 14er skiing to others for now. There was plenty of skiable snow just at and below treeline, but it seemed these skiers intended on summiting as well. I saw at least two dozen people, if not more, and was glad I’d gotten an ‘early’ start. Boy was that trench looking good now!
I saw a group of three men on my way down working their way up. They’d found my bandana and the microspike I wasn’t aware I’d lost. Thanks guys!
I made it down at 10:30am, making this a 7 mile hike in 4 hours. The parking lot was packed.
This really is a straightforward hike: make it to treeline and follow the ridge. With clear skies (at least over Quandary) and no wind it was a perfect hike for today. I’d like to summit four 14ers during winter this year. 1 down, 3 to go!
First hike of 2019! I’d spent the past week at sea level and once again my time was constrained (I needed to be back by 2pm because my daughter had her final driving lesson) so I chose something I knew I’d be able to complete before noon: minimal elevation gain with moderate mileage at an open trailhead seemed a good choice, just to get me back out above treeline. I was debating doing Quandary to get in my first winter 14er of the year, but the wind looked more favorable just a little to the south on North Star Mountain, so I decided to save Quandary for later.
Monitoring the temperature while driving I was a bit put off when it reached -2* around Hartsel but felt better when it rose to 27* in Alma (it was 20* when I arrived at the Hoosier Pass trailhead).
I arrived at 4:45am to an empty parking lot full of ice and decided to just put on my snowshoes while sitting in my truck (with spikes underneath so if I needed them I wouldn’t need to take off my gloves to put them on). For Christmas I bought myself a new pair of snowshoes (EVO ASCENT MSRs) and was anxious to try them out.
I started on the trail just after 5am. The 4WD road was blocked off by plowed snow, but easy to follow and packed down by previous hikers/skiers/snowboarders/etc. The road starts just beyond this sign.
This part of the trail was great, as it followed a well packed and wide 4WD road. I followed it as it curved to the left. It was sill dark out, but I could faintly make out the sledding/skiing hill ahead of me.
I stopped briefly to fix my snowshoes (the band had come loose on one of them). It was cold but clear and every time I looked up I saw meteors from the Quadrantid Meteor Shower. I kept stopping to watch and just absorb the night and finally had to kick myself in gear and tell myself to get going: I was on a time schedule.
As many of you know, route finding is different when it’s dark: there aren’t many visible landmarks, and even the easiest route can cause you trouble when you can’t see what’s ahead of you. Following the road around 12,000’ I suddenly found myself on the side of a mountain, road gone. I looked at my map and compass, knew I was heading the right way, and continued on. It seems the road was covered in snow, making it indistinguishable from the hillside. This made me a bit uneasy as it was exactly where the avalanche danger was forecasted for today, and I couldn’t quite make out the angle of the slope or consistency of the snow. I got out my caltopo map, noticed it was less than a 20* angle, and just decided to be careful and stay as close to the road as possible. Bonus points if I could actually find it (which I could once in a while). Once again I looked down, and the band had come undone on my left snowshoe, so I put it back into place.
As I rounded the corner the road became visible again and I breathed a sigh of relief, until the wind picked up. It started out strong and didn’t let up until I made it back to that spot on my way back down. Here’s where the route finding truly got fun. I still had over an hour of darkness, and with the wind I could no longer see clearly what was ahead of me as the wind was ferociously blowing up the snow and made everything appear… grey. When I turned around and looked back at Mt Buckskin I could see much better. The sun was rising and there wasn’t much wind behind me to obscure my view, so I kept looking back to give me a visual reference for later. I took out my camera and kept trying to get a picture of the moonrise as well (just to the right of Buckskin), but the camera had a hard time focusing with all the wind.
OK, back to route finding. I was now at the 4WD parking area, although I didn’t know it. In the dark and with the wind I couldn’t’ see much, so I just kept heading west. Good news: I came to a road! Bad news: it was the wrong road. So was the next one, and the next. Apparently there are tons of mining roads in this immediate area, all parallel with each other, and none of them were the correct “road”. However, heading up and west seemed to keep me on the right track, so I did so, even though I couldn’t see much.
I lightened this video on my computer to give it more visibility, but here’s an idea of the terrain and mild wind in the dark (well, I guess not “dark” because I lightened it, but this shows where I was at)
VIDEO
At about this point my phone shut off. I’d been trying to take videos/pictures, and it decided it was too cold to continue. Hmph. I stuck it in my backpack to let it ‘warm up’ and hoped it’d turn on again later, looked down, and once again fixed the band my snowshoe (both sides this time).
Up and west ended up being the correct navigation, and soon I was at the top of North Star Mountain’s shoulder. The snow was about a foot thick in most places and consolidated. It was perfect for a winter hike: Not tiring or difficult at all. I never did see the gate that was mentioned, or the ‘parking area’ but it was getting lighter out and I could now see the rest of the route before me
I had several options, but decided to head towards the old mine
When I got there the mine was mostly covered in snow. I traversed above it to the ridge.
Wow. I mean, just. Wow. I needed to cross this ridge to make it to the summit, and I was excited! From a physical standpoint this had been an easy hike so far, and I wasn’t even close to being tired: I was ready for a challenge. Due to the wind, most of the snow had accumulated on the south side of this slope.
Check out my morning view of Quandary! I kept thinking to myself the wind on Quandary HAD to be better than the wind I was experiencing on North Star Mountain. It just had to be.
I turned around to look at the route I’d taken and was surprised to see a well established mining road. Hmph! I wondered if it led to the old mine I’d stopped at? In any event, I’d taken the higher trail to get to where I was now, and took it on my way back as well
Woohoo! The sun began to rise! Oh, and did I mention that wind?!?! It hadn’t let up yet… and each one of those ice crystals is deceptively a chard of glass, waiting to cut you down. Luckily I was wearing goggles and my balaclava.
VIDEO
OK, back to the ridge. This is what I got to follow
Traversing this ridge was tricky, as in many places the passable area was no more than a foot wide. I decided to keep on my snowshoes (after fixing them once again), even though they obviously weren’t needed or indeed helpful for the entire route. I started and looked down: ugh! They’d come undone AGAIN. I stopped and put them back into place.
I knew I was straddling the Park and Summit county lines, and when safe decided to hop back and forth as often as I could, just because it sounded fun. I kept encountering several different kinds of snow, from soft and sugary to tough and consolidated, and most of it was wind blown. At this point I started seeing goat tracks and could tell they weren’t very old (due to depth of prints, current wind conditions, etc). There must be a goat ahead of me! Awesome! I also encountered several medium sized cornices, and this one as well (picture taken on the way back down)
This cornice gave me pause, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to continue. I stopped and traded my trekking pole for my ice axe. I could see the cornice from earlier on the ridge, and I’d been mentally planning out my route. I’d wanted to traverse under the cornice, as it didn’t look that steep, but when I actually got there and started my horizontal traverse I realized what a terrible idea this had been! The snow was soft, and I could tell if I made a trench I’d be undermining the stability of the cornice.
Immediately I turned back and thought about my options. This seemed to be the ‘crux’ of this route. I felt if I could cross this cornice the rest of the route would be wind blown in enough areas to make traversing it easy. But I wasn’t sure about the stability of the cornice. As with most of my hiking decisions, I didn’t actually make one until I was close to the issue. I ended up going over the top to the right where it was easy to climb up and delighted to find it eventually became consolidated and climbable with crampons and an ice axe. I’d been following a goat’s fresh tracks this morning and could tell the cornice was eventually consolidated because the goat hadn’t sunk in the snow: however he was more comfortable on the cornice and went even further right. I was up and over it in 20 seconds and mentally thanked myself for keeping those snowshoes on (with built in crampons).
I was super proud of myself for making it over that obstacle, hiked about 20 yards further to the next ledge, and looked at the rest of the route before me
This looked very doable, and like a lot of fun! The only downside? The wind!!! I’d known to expect wind, but this was insane, and much more than the anticipated 14-18mph
Video
I stopped here because I was actually being blown a bit sideways. This was not good. I was close to the summit but worried about the wind. With a light pack (5-10lbs?), myself weighing 105lbs and winds stronger than forecasted I just didn’t weigh enough to keep from being blown sideways. I decided to pick up some rocks to add weight to my empty pack (I’m guessing about 30lbs worth). That seemed to stabilize me a bit.
My weight and confidence up again I kept traversing…. And came across the goat!
I stopped and enjoyed the experience. This is the first time I’ve seen a mountain goat while climbing in winter, and I intended to enjoy it. We looked at each other and sized each other up.
I didn’t want to disturb the goat, but also wanted to traverse the ridge, so I slowly kept inching forward, stopping every once in a while to fix my snowshoe (this was seriously getting annoying!). Eventually the goat looked back at me as if to say “are you joining me or not?” and continued across the ridge. I took my time (and the opportunity to take dozens of photos). The wind was intense and I was trying to get the goat/wind thing, but in still pictures you just can’t really tell how windy it is…
I followed quietly behind, and the goat didn’t seem to mind. I spent much more time than necessary slowly following in its tracks, careful not to disturb it but thankful for the photos. Just before the final summit push it seemed to have had enough and deviated off the ridge. I took advantage of the photo opp…
And finished the short distance to the summit on my own
I summited at 8am
Video
I dropped my bag to get out my phone for a video and realized I’d lost my trekking pole at some point on the route. Drat. I’m assuming the wind had blown it out of my pack. Next time I need to be sure to clip it on with a carabineer. Luckily my phone wasn’t so cold anymore, and I was able to get a quick video of the summit before it died again, but on the downside my DSLR was showing low battery now as well. Drat! So I only took the time to take one summit photo and decided to start taking photos of the peaks around me to help out friends who wanted to hike in the area tomorrow. Here’s what I got…
The ridge to Wheeler
Drift, Fletcher, Atlantic, Pacific & Crystal Peaks
Quandary
Democrat, Traver, McNamee, & Clinton
OK, time to head back. I took a look at the route back across the ridge. It looked so much easier from this angle!
I looked down at my snowshoe and thought fixing it again was more trouble than it was worth.
I appreciated the fact it was easy to ‘fix’ while wearing gloved but was disappointed I’d needed to do so so often. I left them undone for the rest of the hike down.
On the way back I took a picture of one of the fun cornices I saw on the way in
And another at the exposure… not too terrible, but those rocks wouldn’t be fun to land on if a gust of wind decided it was necessary (hence loading my pack with rocks)
On my way back I took some pictures of some of the more fun small ridges I gained
And once I was done with ridges a look back on the way I’d trekked…
Here I unexpectedly found my trekking pole lying on the ground trapped between some rocks. Woot! This was great! Not only had I found my trekking pole, but I didn’t need to pay penance for leaving something on the mountain. I clipped it to my backpack, took out the rocks, and headed down the slope. The sun was great on the way down, even if the wind decided to join her. I mostly just followed the tracks that were still there (surprisingly with the wind I could still follow most of them). Oh, and there were cairns! Imagine that! In the dark I hadn’t noticed any of them, but once I made it back to the shoulder in the daylight I could clearly see large ones placed about 200 feet apart.
Here’s looking back on the route I took to the summit
On my way back I kind of followed the cairns to the end of the shoulder, and looked over at the rest of the route before me. The gate and road were clearly visible in the light of day
And looked back at the way I’d come.
I found that gate I’d missed in the dark. It was actually two very large gates, and looking back, I seemed to pass them unseen by taking a path to the south of them and then just gaining the ridge.
Here’s my path up (solid) and down (dotted)
I found some pretty cool inverted tracks on the descent
Here’s looking at the route I took. Notice how traversing too far to the right (north) would have ended badly in the dark?
And here’s a view of the unstable area I was worried about at 12,000’: It didn’t look stable in the daylight either, but at least I could see a road.
Here’s a great view of most of the lower route (once I got back to the road the wind stopped)
I didn’t see anyone all day until I made it back down to about ½ a mile before the trailhead. There I saw several skiers, a few snowshoers, and about a dozen hikers enjoying the morning out.
I made it back to my truck at 10am, making this a 9 mile hike with 2400’ in elevation gain in 5 hours. I’d made it back 2 hours ahead of schedule. I was a bit bummed to find I’d forgotten to pack my beef jerky (I make a fabulous jerky for hiking and must have left it in the bread box) but overall pleased with today’s hike.
I took off my snowshoes and was a bit upset to notice they’d taken more wear than I’d anticipated from such a short hike and such expensive snowshoes! The plastic bottoms were ruffed up in a lot of places, but at least the metal pieces were completely intact. I’m still not completely sure they’re worth the money. I didn’t use the heel lifts (they weren’t necessary today), but overall they didn’t work any better than the $50 pair of trekkers I put 200 miles on and enjoyingly destroyed this year. I had to continually re attach the straps, and missed the ratcheted bindings of the cheaper model that didn’t need to be continually adjusted. I’m a bit worried I paid too much for a nice pair of snowshoes I’ll destroy in a year, when I could have paid just $50 and destroyed another pair of cheap snowshoes this year. This is something I’ll closely monitor: I’d rather destroy a $50 pair of snowshoes every year rather than “baby” a $200 pair of snowshoes that still end up needing to be replaced in a year.
But back to the peak: In the summertime this would be a great intro hike for someone looking to get into easy ridge climbing.
Also, my phone “died” several times due to the cold, but it wasn’t actually that cold, just windy (which made it cold). Do phones suffer from “wind chill factor” as well? It kept turning back on again after some time being in my backpack, but it was annoying when it kept dying during a video, etc. especially when it wasn’t that ‘cold’ out. Also, it lost track of my navigation when it turned off, so I don’t have a track for this hike.
What am I going to do today to make the world a better place?
Those words are on a piece of paper taped to the to of my treadmill. Every morning as I climb my obligatory 4000’ I ask myself this question, and before I go to bed every night I run through the day’s activities: Did I do something today to make the world a better place? Some days’ it’s as simple as not cutting someone off when I could have, or letting someone else have the parking spot we were both hoping to get. Others it’s changing my schedule around to visit someone who’s lost a loved one, or changing vacation plans to help someone in need. Most days it’s just staying positive when the negative seems to come so easily. Or just keeping my mouth shut.
I’m not a big fan of resolutions. If I’m not happy with where I’m at I don’t think I should wait until a new year comes along to change what I’m doing. I am a fan of goals and goal setting. Probably to the extreme. Goals need to be specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and timely (SMART). Each year at the end of December, instead of setting resolutions, I set goals that are SMART, and then I write them down and publish them to keep myself accountable. Here are my 2019 goals:
Help someone climb a 13er or 14er, or any hike they didn’t think was possible for them
Dedicate 1 day a week as “family day” with whichever of my kids is home (sorry Emily, this is most likely going to affect you)
Try 3 new types of Whiskey
Help 3 girls earn their Gold Award
Sleep outside twice
Learn 20 new words / phrases in German
Post 2 positive comments on a facebook post every day
Teach someone a new skill
Do something that scares me
Swim
Read for 15 minutes a day
Attend 12 Happy Hour meet-ups (I’m NOT a people person, so this won’t be as easy as it sounds)
Say “yes” to 2 invites
Attend a concert
Stick up for someone in an online forum
Plant a garden (and fix the sprinkler system)
Complete 4 Highpoints outside of Colorado, with at least 1 being above 10,000’
Complete 21 Centennials (I’m currently at 76, so this would bring me to 97)
Complete 5 winter 14er ascents (duplicate peaks are ok)
Climb 80 peaks (I climbed 77 in 2018, not counting the incline, which I did about 15 times, so this seems attainable)
Break the top 100 for total number of ranked peaks climbed in 2019 (I’m currently on the LoJ site as #109)
Break the top 50 on LoJ for sum of elevation hiked/climbed (I’m currently at #55, with 868,783’ climbed for 2018, but this doesn’t include my daily treadmill 4000’ or Incline hikes, since these aren’t “peaks”)
Hike on 50 days this calendar year (for 2018 I hiked 47 days, putting me at #89 on the LoJ site)
Hike a peak with no trail to the summit
Keep track of miles hiked
Tell others what I like about them when the opportunity arises.
I thought I was done with summits for 2018. I’ll be gone next week on a road trip visiting my family in Mississippi for Christmas, and along the way picking up my son from his base in Texas to join us (I’m so glad he got leave for the holidays before transferring to Alaska!!!). I’d just been hiking yesterday, but today I noticed the weather for tomorrow was perfect for hiking as well. I did some mental calculations, and then had this conversation with my youngest (a sophomore in High School).
Me: What are your plans for tomorrow?
Her: I was planning on sleeping in and then studying for finals. And I’d like to get in some rink time if possible.
Me: Do you want any help studying? I did graduate with my undergrad 2nd in my class. And I have an MBA. I’m pretty good at the whole ‘studying’ thing.
Her (with a terrified look on her face): No mom. Just… no. I get straight A’s and have my academic letter to prove it. I’ve got this.
Me: I was thinking of hiking tomorrow, but I’d also like to spend time with you. What do you think?
Her: You should go hiking. That way I can sleep and study. I’ll probably still be sleeping when you get back anyway.
Me: How much studying do you need to do? Is studying more important than sleeping?
Her: Mom, I’m a teenager. Teenagers gotta sleep. At this point I need more sleep than study time.
Me: OK, but that still leaves rink time. How about we go to the rink tonight from 7-9pm, tomorrow I’ll hike, you’ll sleep, I’ll wake you up to study, and we’ll have dinner together.
Emily: Deal.
Woot! It looked like I was going to get one more hike in this year after all! The weather looked great, and my schedule for the morning was cleared. Because of rink time I didn’t make it to bed until 10pm, which meant I only got 4 hours of sleep, but that seems to be the norm for me these days. I’ve discovered the hike is always worth the lack of sleep.
Once again, I woke up at 2am and drove to the trailhead. I encountered a herd of about 40 elk at the same place I had on Friday, and this time I was prepared when I saw them in the center of the road. I slowed down and waited for them to budge, but they didn’t seem concerned with doing so. They were quite happy to stand in the middle of the road and just watch me wait. It seemed I was in more of a hurry than they were. Luckily there were no other vehicles on this road. After two minutes I did something I knew would make them move: I took out my camera. Sure enough, before I got the chance to take picture they’d scattered to the sides of the road. I was on my way!
I haven’t been to the Kite Lake Trailhead for what seemed like ages. The last time I was here was back in June of 2017. The 2WD dirt road was icy but clear and plowed up to the gate closure, about a mile from Kite Lake.
This was also a pleasant surprise: I’d expected to park about 3 miles from the trailhead, and here I was, just 1 mile away. This day just kept getting better and better!
There was room for about 5 cars at the gate, if everyone cooperated and parked nicely.
I was the first vehicle there, so I tried to pull up and leave as much room as possible for others. Also, about 40 feet before the gate the road isn’t plowed, and a few vehicles tried to drive past a snow drift and obviously had to turn back. My advice: Don’t even attempt to drive past where it’s plowed. Your vehicle might make it, but there’s no parking in front of the gate so you’ll need to turn around and park lower anyway.
I gathered my gear and began hiking towards Kite Lake at 4:45am. Just after the gate I had to stop and put on my snowshoes. I left them on for the entire hike.
The hike up to Kite Lake was simple: I just followed the road.
The sky was clear with no moon, and when I looked up I often saw leftover shooting stars from Friday’s Geminid Meteor Shower. The only downside was the wind! Wow! It sure wasn’t the forecasted 8mph, and it wasn’t letting up. It was like I was walking headfirst into a wind tunnel: the wind was funneling down the mountains and straight towards me as I trudged towards the lake. I remembered last time I was here the wind was intense as well, and hoped it died down at some point.
OK, I made it to Kite Lake.
My directions said to look for the trail to Lake Emma, which was supposed to be highly visible behind the bathrooms to the left. Hmmm. No trail was visible, just a lot of snow.
I hiked around for a bit, looking for an obvious trail sign, tracks, path indentations in the snow, etc, and when I didn’t find any I just headed southeast.
Before long I was in a basin, and thankfully here the wind stopped. Even though it was dark I could tell I was in a basin because the ground was relatively flat, and there were outlines of the mountains surrounding me. I’d been told there were willows here, but they must have been buried under all the snow.
I crossed the basin to the south, squinting in the dark, trying to see Mt Buckskin before me. From the basin I’d wanted to get a good look at Mt Buckskin so I could pick a safe line to climb, but in the dark all I could see was there were a lot of snow covered slopes surrounding me. I couldn’t be sure in the dark how stable/deep/etc. those snow covered slopes were. In fact, I couldn’t see much but lots of white surrounding a few areas of black shapes. I was pretty sure the dark areas were cliffs, and not climbable. Imagine seeing this (which is actually more than I was actually able to see at the time), and trying to decide which path was safest to take.
I kept slowing my pace, hoping the sun would rise and I’d be able to see what I was up against conditions wise. Why wasn’t it getting light out? This would be a whole lot easier if it were light out.
After checking my watch and realizing it wouldn’t be light out for quite some time I decided to aim left, where it looked like there was tundra near the snow. I looked at my topo map and it seemed to have the least drastic slope angle. I figured if I stuck to that path I’d have firm ground to hike up if the snow wasn’t stable. This ended up being an excellent idea. The terrain was quite steep but not as steep as in other areas, and no cliffs. Here’s the route I took. In the daylight I realized I’d made the correct choice.
About halfway up the hill I could see power lines in front of me, and decided this would be an excellent point of reference. I aimed for the power line with 3 poles (and discovered later all the others only had 2).
This was a very steep section. Here’s the look back down (from later in the day)
When I made it to the power line I set my next goal of making it to the top of the summit ridge. While the sun hadn’t risen yet, the sky was beginning to get light and I could see better than when I was down in the basin.
Here the snow was firm and I wanted to keep my snowshoes on so I looked for a continuous line of snow to the ridge. Here’s the path I took
Once again, pictures don’t do the steepness here justice.
The snow at this point was consolidated and I was glad my snowshoes had crampons: microspikes wouldn’t have been sufficient. I was also glad I had my ice axe.
After what seemed like forever I gained the ridge just as the sky began to turn pink.
I stopped for a minute to admire the view, and then realized if I hurried I’d be able to make it to the summit to watch the sunrise. I quickly sauntered in my snowshoes the last hundred yards or so towards the summit.
I summited at 7am
Mt Buckskin:
And yes, I was able to watch the sunrise (it rose directly from behind Pikes Peak, which was cool but not something I was able to capture with my camera)
I also wanted to summit Loveland Mountain today, so I turned and walked back the way I’d come. The trail over to Loveland Mountain looked very straightforward. I could see the path outlined in snow
I made my way to the Buckskin/Loveland saddle, careful not to trip in my snowshoes.
From here there was a rocky section to navigate
And then I had the choice to summit via the trail to the right or the hard packed snow to the left.
I had on my snowshoes, so I decided to take the snow route, which has more snow than it looks like from a distance
I gained Loveland’s ridge and walked to the cairn on the relatively flat summit
I summited Loveland Mountain at 7:50am
Loveland Mountain:
Now that the sun had fully risen it was time to apply my sunscreen. This has been problematic in the past because a tube of sunscreen freezes in the winter above treeline. Using an aerosol spray isn’t practical for obvious reasons (wind) and the sunscreen that comes in a deodorant-like stick doesn’t apply evenly. Yesterday I’d visited my new esthetician and we’d had the usual sunscreen talk. I’d told her I usually just keep my face completely covered when above treeline, since I’m unable to apply sunscreen when it freezes. She told me about something she’d recently heard of, and I decided to give it a try. I went to the dollar store and bought a compact, took out the powder, cleaned the compact out, and filled it with my favorite sunscreen. Then I placed a new compact sponge over it (30 for $1 at the dollar store as well) and let the sponge absorb the sunscreen.
I had the compact in my pocket as I was hiking this morning (inside of a plastic ziplock as well) and now was the time to take it out and see if the sponge had kept the sunscreen from freezing. I sat on the summit cairn, took out the sunscreen filled compact and applied the sunscreen to my face using just the sponge. I was amazed at how well this worked! The sunscreen hadn’t frozen! Using the sponge it was easy to apply the sunscreen to my face, and my fingers didn’t get cold because they weren’t in direct contact with the sunscreen. I hadn’t expected this to work so well. This is life changing. I took a picture to prove to her I’d tried out her idea.
OK, that had been fun, but now it was time to head back down. Here’s a look at the ridge back to Mt Buckskin
Yes, I had to regain some elevation, but at this point I was feeling great so it was no big deal. When I reached the top of the Mt Buckskin ridge I noticed a few cool looking cornices forming (these were small, only a few feet wide)
Here’s a look at the view from the Mt Buckskin Ridge
On my way back down I once again aimed for the power lines, which were much easier to see in the light of day.
Here’s looking back up the slope to Buckskin
From the power lines I headed back into the basin.
And from the basin a look back up at the route I’d taken
Wow, what a basin! In the light of day I could full appreciate how vast it was. I stopped to take some pictures and admire the view
I realized I’d made the right choice in choosing the line I had to ascend Buckskin’s slope, and now aimed for Kite Lake
Once at Kite Lake, and while hiking the road back to the gate, I got a really good view of Mt Buckskin and the path I’d taken to the top. I had the realization this hike would have been much more straightforward in the dark if I’d just followed the power lines up the ridge.
The power lines start on the road and lead up the mountain, avoiding the basin altogether. I’m not sure if they cross private land (etc.) but this seems a much easier option that would have made the hike quicker as well.
In any event, the weather had been perfect today once the wind had stopped. Not a cloud in the sky, and as I was walking from Kite Lake back to my truck it got really warm out and I was able to take off my hat and balaclava.
I made it back to my truck at 10:30am, making this a 7 mile hike with 2950’ in elevation gain in 5 hours, 45 minutes. This gave me plenty of time to drive home, get the truck washed and gassed up for the road trip, and to wake my still sleeping daughter up to start studying. All in all, an absolutely perfect day!
Last night I was at an event and didn’t make it home until midnight, which meant I wasn’t in bed until about 12:30am. Nevertheless I set my alarm for 2am, got up, and headed to the trailhead. Yes, I was tired, but if I only hiked on the days I wasn’t tired I’d never get to hike. Also, today was supposed to be beautiful! I really wanted to get above treeline.
Hoosier Pass Trailhead was probably the easiest trailhead I’ve ever driven to. It was easy to find, and directly off the main road with plenty of parking space.
I arrived at the trailhead 4:45am. I parked my truck, got my gear together, and crossed the road to begin my hike around 5am.
It was about 19* outside, but for some reason it felt extremely cold this morning. So cold I didn’t take out my topo map, and instead followed the tracks that led to the left. This ended up being a mistake I noticed about ¼ of a mile in when I stopped to put on my snowshoes. Yep, I was definitely going the wrong way. So I backtracked back to the gate, got out my map, and re-oriented myself. I was supposed to go east… where there weren’t any tracks. (After the gate don’t go left, go straight). I re-started my tracker and began again.
I broke trail in the dark. This is actually much more difficult than it sounds, and the new powdered snow made it more difficult than it should have been. I’ve never hiked in this area before, but I knew there was a good trail/4WD road here somewhere. Unfortunately, with the snow and in the dark I couldn’t see said trail. Everything looked the same. I’d only notice I was “off” the trail when I’d suddenly sink to my knees in the snow. Luckily it’s really not that far to treeline so this didn’t slow me down too much.
The best part about hiking in the dark? Tonight’s Geminid Meteor shower! I saw dozens of shooting stars, maybe more. Every time I looked up I’d see another one. This had me stopping quite a bit just to enjoy the sight, and was a major plus to my hiking this morning (and one of the reasons I forwent sleep). There was no moon, the sky was clear, and there were hundreds of stars in the sky. Wow. Just… wow. Colorado is amazing!!! Why wasn’t anyone out here with a better camera than I had photographing this?!?!?
I made it to treeline and it was still very dark. I knew the general direction I was supposed to head, so I just aimed east and kept hiking up a gentle slope, enjoying the stars.
When I made it to the top of the first slope it was still dark, but it was beginning to get a little lighter out. I could see the ridge I was supposed to follow, but couldn’t really tell how deep the snow was, so I stuck to the ridge longer than necessary. This ended up being a great idea because there were cornices I was unable to see. Here’s the path I took. You’ll notice where I started heading south is further than I needed to go, but once again this had been a good choice due to the cornices
From here I was supposed to aim for the power lines (circled in red) and continue down to about 12,400’. Ouch! This meant a loss in elevation of about 500’! Here’s the rest of the route from this point
Did I mention it was WINDY?!?!? Seriously windy. The kind of wind that flings your snot into the air before you have a chance to wipe it. I had snot on my nose, cheek, eyebrow, and I’m pretty sure I’d have it in my hair too if I wasn’t wearing a hat.The forecast had called for 10-15mph winds, and they were at least that, and steady, with 30mph+ gusts thrown in every now and then for fun.
It was much too windy for me to take off my gloves, and I was happy the sun was beginning to rise so I could now see the rest of the route before me. I looked west. Again, wow!
OK, back to that wind. It was creating cornices all over the place! See this?
Here’s what it looked like on the other side
I crossed the final bump along the connecting ridge and found the rib I was supposed to climb that would lead me to the top of Mt Silverheels. This looked straightforward. Here’s the route I took, careful to avoid both gullies and the cornices
Towards the top of the rib the snow decreased and I was left with talus
Here’s a look back on the route I took to get to the top of the ridge. By sticking to the ridge I’d avoided the cornices circled in red (which are larger than they appear in this picture)
From here it was a very easy walk to the summit
I summited at 8am. It took me 2.5 hours to summit.
Check out some of the views!
The summit was relatively flat. Here’s a picture of the last bit of the trek up, and another of how I get those summit-selfie photos…
The wind had died down a bit, so I stayed on the summit longer than I normally do to enjoy the view.
When I did start on my way down I had a little difficulty finding the exact spot to descend. I wanted to be sure to miss the two gullies, but that exact spot was difficult to find once on top of the rib. Finally, I decided to just parallel with the radio towers and head down. This ended up being the correct choice, and I soon found my snowshoe tracks to follow back down.
The wind began to pick up again, and I noticed a cornice crumble and slide. It was a small slide, but interesting just the same. The red circle is where the snow came to a stop after falling
I continued on, aiming for the radio towers and dreading that upcoming elevation gain
Here’s a look back on the route down from Mt Silverheels
In the light of day I could see a better path over Hoosier ridge than I’d used on my trek in. I was going to stay a bit lower, now that I could see in the daylight how the snow didn’t pose avalanche danger. The dotted route is the way I hiked in, the solid line the way I hiked out, careful to stay on solid ground/snow and then on the ridge to avoid the cornices.
I saw this bone on a cairn. The bone was about 6 inches long
I made it to the ridge and just followed it back
At the end of the ridge I saw the last bit of my hike down to treeline, and the radio towers I’d missed in the dark on my hike in.
The wind started dying down and I started making tracks again. They started out pretty scarce, but got deeper and deeper as I made my way to treeline. Every now and then I’d stumble upon a willow and sink a bit
Back beneath treeline I was able to see the snow frosted trees I’d missed in the dark. Such a beautiful sight! And the trench I’d put in this morning was still there so I deepened it a bit.
I made it back down to my truck at 11am, making this a 9 mile hike in 5.5 hours, with a little bit of trenching, lots of wind, and about 25 minutes on the summit. (my first distance includes my off route hiking from the beginning, so it’s a little off).
The roads on the drive in were insanely icy all the way from Colorado Springs to the trailhead. This was unexpected because it hadn’t snowed/rained lately: the ice was all due to a low lying and heavy fog. This was serious ice too! I didn’t even really notice the ice until I narrowly avoided sliding into a mama raccoon crossing the street with two of her babies. From then on I couldn’t drive faster than 35mph the entire way, which meant I didn’t make it to the trailhead until 5:30am (I should have been there around 4:30am). Luckily today was one of those rare days when I didn’t have a serious schedule or need to be home at a specific time, so I took it all in stride.
Besides being icy the road to the trailhead was a paved 2WD road. There was about 3 inches of snow in the parking lot and no other vehicles. The bathrooms are locked for the season.
There was snow on the ground so I decided to just put on my snowshoes in the car so I wouldn’t need to later. I kept them on the entire hike. I started at 5:40am, following the mud, rocks, ice, and snow that today was the Rainbow Trail. Despite what you may think by the name of the trailhead, you actually turn left at this sign and take the Rainbow/Macey Trail #1336.
There are two creek crossings on this hike. The first is Horn Creek. Cross this bridge and take the trail to the left (Macey Lakes Trail)
The trail weaves around the mountainside, so it varied from mud and rocks to 2+ feet of snow, depending on which side of the mountain I was on at that point. I decided it wasn’t worth taking off and putting my snowshoes on every ¼ mile or so, so they stayed on. I hiked in silence, all except for the sound of ice crunching underneath my snowshoes.
The sun was beginning to rise, and with it the low-lying fog.
The second bridge is over Macey Creek. It is very similar to the first bridge.
Here I got my first view of Colony Baldy
At the Macey Creek bridge the snow was deep and from here to the summit I broke trail. Once you cross Macey Creek you’ll follow the trail down to the bottom of a long hill, losing about 200-300’ in elevation (thinking WHY?!?!? the entire time). Just before you get to the bottom of this hill there’s a path to the right. I was unable to see it as the path was covered in snow and I had to backtrack and look for it, knowing from my topo map it was there. If you see the drainage you’ve gone too far.
On my way out I noticed the path is directly opposite of this sign, and I took a picture of my GPS coordinates
This is where the trail ends. I followed the drainage west through a heavily forested area until I came to a small clearing.
From here I could see Colony Baldy, and turned south (left).
I was supposed to follow the ridge to treeline, but the trees were so dense it was difficult to see anything, let alone a ridge
Instead of following the ridge I followed the drainage, which was a great idea since I couldn’t see the ridge: all I could see were hills and trees. The drainage didn’t have water, and didn’t look like it ever held water, but it gave me a nice, stable ‘V’ to follow up the hillside.
From the small clearing to treeline was the most difficult part of this hike. The snow was about 3 feet deep and like cotton candy: I’d take a step and sink to my knees, sliding backwards. Every step was like this, and as I made it higher up the mountain my steps became deeper and the snow became softer. The snow also made the angle I was climbing much steeper.
It seemed to take forever to make it to treeline! Each step was exhausting. The angle of the slope is much steeper than these pictures suggest. Many times my snowshoes would slide backwards as I tried to take a step forwards. It was like climbing on a treadmill at elevation that isn’t turned on.
I made it to the bristlecone pine trees and was only halfway done with the hardest part of this hike. That bristlecone pine area is a good half mile of very steep elevation gain.
This was the largest dispersion of bristlecone pines at treeline I’ve ever encountered, and it all goes straight up. Just when you think you’ve made it to the top of the bristlecone pine area you encounter more. Once again, the steepness of the slope cannot be stressed enough, especially with the added snow. I was using tree branches as handholds to keep myself from sliding backwards.
This is also where the wind picked up and didn’t stop. It was only about 20mph, but it was a steady 20mph with no breaks between gusts. On the plus side it was beautiful to watch the snow get thrown into the air and fall back down.
I put on my goggles and pulled my balaclava up over my nose and kept climbing until I was finally out of the bristlecone pine area and just needed to finish gaining the ridge. I kept looking back at the route I’d taken thinking to myself how it all looked the same: There were so many tree covered hills at seemingly equal elevation below treeline. I seriously hoped the wind didn’t cover my tracks with snow or I’d be using my map and compass to find my way back as well.
Once I gained the ridge I had a great view of Colony Baldy
And the route before me
From here to the summit it was an easy hike over rocky tundra. Easy, yes, but it took me forever to complete. The hike thus far had completely worn me out. I haven’t been this tired/slow going on an alpine hike in a very, very long time. I’d take 50 steps (yes, I’d count them) and then reward myself with a rest to breathe for 10 seconds. And all the false summits! Here’s the first one
And the second one
I gained the second false summit after a battle of wills with myself. I was exhausted. The wind coming straight at me and the intense elevation gain up the ridge and through the bristlecone pines had seriously worn me out. I kept telling myself it was almost over and I just needed to gain this one last hill and I’d be done. I promised myself I’d take a break once I’d summited and rest a bit. Imagine the words that went through my head when I gained the ‘summit’ and was met with this
Argh!!! Nope, I didn’t stop, even though my legs were screaming and I was having a difficult time catching my breath (something else that hasn’t happened on an alpine hike for me in quite a while). I kept going: 50 steps, 10 seconds to breathe. 50 steps, another 10 seconds to breathe. And you know what? When I finally gained that last hill to the true summit it was all worth it: I was met with the most fantastic view of the Crestones I’ve ever seen!
The downside? It was freezing cold! And windy. I took a summit picture
And a quick video before my cell phone went from 49% battery down to 7%
VIDEO:
I plugged in my cell phone to the charger and it immediately went back up to 15% and just stayed there, so I put my cell phone back in my pack and headed down, as my hands were starting to burn inside my mittens.
Here’s a look at that long, wonderfully ‘easy’ ridge. While it looks flat, it’s really just an easy slope.
The best part about hiking down? I was using different leg muscles and now I wasn’t tired at all. Each step downhill it became easier to breathe and I started picking up the pace (being careful not to trip on the rocks poking out from between the snow with my snowshoes). At the end of the slope I turned right (northeast) and followed the slope back past a small outcropping and to the bristlecone pine area. My tracks were all still (mostly) visible. Woot!
This is where I decided to have a little fun. The trench I’d made on my way up was steep and I kept slipping and sliding forward on my way back down because the snow was really, really soft. So I decided to just glissade on purpose because I was doing it by accident anyway.
I ended up doing this almost the entire way back down to the meadow. The path I’d taken was steep enough for me to slide down the entire way, but the snow was deep enough not to let me go too fast (an ice axe wouldn’t have been much help in this snow).
I made it back to the meadow and turned right and headed back to the Rainbow Trail. The 3.5 miles back to the trailhead seemed to last forever. It still wasn’t worth it to take off my snowshoes for the help they gave me in the shaded/snowy areas, so I kept them on. Wearing them included the added bonus of not needing to carry them. I didn’t see anyone else all day, and my tracks in were still the only tracks I saw on my way out, so I’d been alone all day today on the mountain.
I made it back to my truck at 3pm, making this a 13 mile hike with 5100’ of elevation gain in approximately 9.5 hours.
I made it back home at about 6pm and when I went to jump out of my truck my entire body groaned as I touched the ground. That soreness is something else I haven’t experienced for a long time, and an indication of a fabulous hike and a day well spent!
I really wanted to do Atlantic and Pacific together, but until April I have limited time schedules for hiking (I need to be back at my truck by noon to make it home in time to pick up my daughter from school, so it’s hikes under 8 miles until then). The weather indicated Atlantic Peak would be a good choice for today, so I went for it. This was only supposed to be a 4-6 mile hike and I wanted to break in my new winter hiking boots. They were supposed to be lighter and warmer than my Sorrels, but I was skeptical so I wanted to use them on a shorter hike before committing to longer distances.
I arrived at the Mayflower Gulch trailhead at 5:15am to 14* weather, much better than the -5* weather of last week in the San Juans. I was also pleasantly surprised to find it was right off the road: no off road driving for me today. There was one other vehicle (a Subaru) in the lot, and while the gate was open up to Boston Mine I decided to park my truck at the lower lot and hike in.
The lower lot was icy!!! I put on my microspikes in the truck and gathered my gear. I set out at 5:30am. It was very peaceful hiking at night. Silent. Very silent. No moon, but the stars were magnificent! The only sound was the snow falling off tree branches and onto the trail below. The trail was tightly packed down by other hikers, snowshoers and skiers.
A 4WD vehicle could have made the icy drive, but since this hike was so short it didn’t seem worth the extra mile and a half. I made it to the Boston Mine area before sunrise and put on my snowshoes in the dark. I was lazy so I kept my microspikes on and just put my snowshoes on over them. If I needed to take them off it would be a quick transition and maybe I could keep my gloves on the entire time (saving my fingers from the cold).
Oh, btw, this fence is not the height of a normal fence… it’s probably half the height (so the snow looks deeper than it actually is).
Snowshoes ended up being a great idea, because while the trail was packed down, as soon as I went off trail I started sinking to my knees, even while wearing my snowshoes. I looked for a trail across the gulch, but it looked like I was the first since the last snowfall so I broke my own trail.
The sun was beginning to rise, and Jacque Peak looked beautiful.
The snow was sugary and made snowshoeing difficult. I’d be fine for a few yards, and then plunge up to my waist. This was a serious problem in the willows, but I made it across the gulch and was surprised to exit and stumble upon a cairn! This was an unexpected treat! I found about 4 cairns on the entire route, always unexpected and sometimes on my way back down.
After crossing the gulch I was supposed to follow Mayflower Creek up to Atlantic’s west ridge, but the snow didn’t look stable and it looked really deep, so I stayed higher up on the hillside. This was great (early elevation gain) but there were times I was seriously worried about avalanche danger. It wouldn’t have been an intense avalanche, but I could see signs I should take an alternate route back once it warmed up. So I was slow in traversing the slope, but careful and ultimately safe.
Here’s the route I took
My next task was to hike Atlantic’s lower west ridge. This ended up being more difficult than anticipated: the snow here was very consolidated, unlike the sugary snow on the slopes and gullies. My snowshoes weren’t going to cut it. I took off one snowshoe and tried it with my microspikes. They became ice skates. Hmph. Ok, I was going to need to get creative. I put back on my snowshoes and got out my ice axe. This wouldn’t have been a problem with two ice axes or two ice picks and crampons, but I only had one ice axe and I hadn’t brought my crampons (I thought it was still too early). So I used my ice axe to drill a hole big enough for my left hand and then struck the snow with the axe and my right hand for support and lifted myself up. My snowshoes used the holds I’d made for my hands. This worked very well and I was able to gain the ridge in no time at all. (Note to self: It’s time for crampons).
Here’s a look back on the route
From here I was just supposed to follow the trail to the summit, but there wasn’t a trail, and in fact, at about 12,700’ I encountered some of the most difficult terrain of this hike.
This is where I wanted to turn back. I seriously considered it. The snow was intermittent and what snow there was was sugary and covering loose talus, so I couldn’t get a good grip on it in my snowshoes. I took them off again to try it with just spikes and it was even worse! My microspikes were of no use: I really needed the stability/flotation of snowshoes. Even though they weren’t perfect, they were a big help. This area took me much longer to navigate than it should have, but I didn’t quit and I didn’t turn back. I gained this ridge and was met with this:
Wow. That ridge didn’t look too difficult in normal conditions, but I could already see this would be a challenge due to the unpredictable snow. Maybe not a challenge for seasoned snow summiters, but I’m still new to this. There was snow, lots of cornices beginning to form, and a narrow ridge to navigate. I forged on ahead.
Luckily a mountain goat had been here last night and gave me some tracks to consider. There were times I didn’t feel safe following it’s tracks, but they did give me a good general direction to follow, which was directly on top on the ridge.
I’d reach one summit and find another, which was frustrating, but I knew everything I encountered was within my abilities and even a bit challenging. I came across a few sections that would have been class 2 if there hadn’t been snow, but with the snow (and instability of said snow) I decided it was safer just to go straight over the ridge. This turned the hike into a class 3 climb, and with snowshoes made me a bit clumsy (but safer than without).
This was one of those learning opportunities where I was scared at times but knew I could do it so I kept pushing forward, even though there were many times I wanted to quit and come back in the summer.
Here’s the route I took:
The trek wasn’t long, and I wasn’t tired when I reached the summit, but I was cold. Luckily my phone and camera were working, although my phone cut out halfway though the first video and I had to take another one and then it shut down. I plugged it into my portable charger and took pictures with my DSLR. I summited at 9am.
VIDEO:
While it was cold it wasn’t windy, so the cold was bearable. I stayed on the summit much longer than I normally do, taking pictures and marveling at the beauty of the mountains with snow.
I considered traversing Pacific Peak as well, but didn’t think I’d be able to do it successfully with my time constraints. The class 3 route looks doable now though, so I may be back in the next few weeks.
Here’s a look back at the route
The trek back was easier than the hike in because I just followed my tracks (and didn’t look down). Looking down would have caused unnecessary anxiety.
Those ridges were something else!
Of course I took a shadowselfie
I decided to follow the creek down because that was what I was supposed to do and I was seriously worried about avalanche danger on the route I’d taken up the mountain. I’m still learning about avalanches, but know some of the initial signs and what I was seeing wasn’t making me comfortable. So I took the creek, but this proved difficult as well, as out of nowhere I’d sink up to mu chest in soft snow and then have to work myself out. This happened many times and was frustrating, but I still felt safer than on the slope above.
Just before hitting Mayflower gulch my toes started to hurt: the new snow boots were fine, but the snowshoes and boots combination was cutting off circulation in my toes and trekking downhill was beginning to hurt. This hadn’t happened in my previous boots, and is something I need to consider.
Also, I lost my phone. It fell out of my pocket and I had to retrace my steps ¼ of a mile uphill to find it. That wasn’t fun. I found it buried in snow (but attached to my bright orange solar charger). I picked it up and trudged back down the hill and across Mayflower Gulch to Boston Mine.
It was a beautiful day! And warm! I took off my gloves but had to put them back on again once I made it back to the trail (and shade). Have I mentioned I love my new gloves!
My new winter books are ok, but despite my double tying them and folding them under my laces they still came undone while hiking, which isn’t an option for me since I can’t tie them wearing mittens. I may try safety pinning them next time.
I made it back to the trailhead at noon and looked at my STRAVA map. Hmph! This wasn’t right: It showed my trek to the summit, but it seems it stopped working there and picked up again where I found my phone in the snow after losing it (please don’t attempt to take that straight line: it’s not safe!!!). So while the elevation gain is most likely correct, the trek down and mileage definitely are not. My iPhone told me I’d hiked 6.8 miles, so I’m going with that for mileage. The hike was 5.5 hours.
Here’s my Relive map (which is also false since it did that straight line thing from the summit to where I lost my phone).
My hiking days got switched this week due to mandatory Friday dentist appointments. (Side note: anyone know of a great dentist in Colorado Springs that’s open nights and weekends? I love my dentist office but their hours stink!!!). I was willing to give up my hiking day this week for dental hygiene but when I asked my kids what they wanted to do this weekend one was gone and the other wanted to sleep until 4pm (she’s a teenager, this is doable for her) but she wanted me to take her to see the school play at 7pm. Woohoo! This gave me a Saturday hiking day, and I could drive further since I didn’t need to be home by 3pm.
So I changed my schedule and took a nap Friday night and woke up at 11:45pm and drove the 6 hours to the Eddiesville Trailhead in the San Juans. The weather wasn’t supposed to be spectacular (0-29* at the summit, with wind chill making it 0 to 10*) but as I was driving down the dirt road my heart sank as the temperature dropped to -5* and held there for a bit. I got excited when it rose to 7* (I know, crazy to be happy about 7* weather) and disappointed again when it went back down to 0* and then held steady again at -5*. With my Raynaud’s I was seriously worried a hike wasn’t going to happen today: I’ve never hiked in such cold weather and had my doubts.
I’d seen a report from earlier this week stating the trailhead was still open (woohoo!) but that it was icy. Let me tell you, they weren’t kidding! I’ve never experienced this kind of ice before. Granted it was -5* outside, but the dirt road was covered in 2-4 inches of ice and there was no way to gain traction on the road. This is the very first time I’ve ever experienced my 4WD Tundra slip in the 6+ years I’ve been driving it on ice and snow. It caught me off guard, but I straightened it out and kept it under 5mph until I reached the trailhead. Those steep hills with tight curves were a killer! I could tell by tire tracks several other vehicles had slid into the drainage on the side of the road in the past few days. There was a pretty good rut going for tires which was nice, but would have made passing another vehicle a nightmare. Here are pics from my drive out. The creek crossing(s) were fun, especially the second one that had a thick layer of ice at 5am I got to break through with my truck: My truck was happy!
There were tons of animal tracks along and through the road. Very cool! Hopefully I’d see some wildlife today. I saw some of the biggest white rabbits I’ve ever seen. Seriously. They reminded me of the jackrabbits we had in Arizona, the ones the size of racoons. I arrived at the trailhead at 5:30am to -5* weather and snow everywhere and a gate preventing me from driving further.
I’m still learning about winter condition hiking and where my limits are, so I’d decided before even arriving to give it a try and turn back if needed. I’d driven all this way, hadn’t I? I might as well use this as a learning experience, -5* weather or not.
So I put my snowshoes on in the truck and bundled up for the cold weather with multiple pairs of gloves, my balaclava, knit hat, etc. I opened the door and was greeted with intensely cold air, but luckily no wind. I took a deep breath: I could do this! (Probably).
The trail actually had signs, which was an unexpected treat.
I followed the trail through a gate and to the left (southeast) for about 150 yards
until I saw this post and turned right. There was supposed to be a trail here, but it was invisible in the snow.
My fingers were burning. Seriously burning from the cold. I stopped and took off my felt gloves that were under my mittens and just wore my mittens. My hands were instantly warmer, but I was giving up finger flexibility: I would no longer be able to take off my mittens to actually do stuff (like adjust my snowshoes, take photos, look at my phone/gps, etc). (Another side note: Someone seriously needs to invent better gloves. I need actual gloves with finger casings for dexterity, but unfortunately they don’t keep my hands warm enough. I need mittens that have small fingertip holes made with thin weatherproof fabric that retract inside the mitten but you can poke your fingertips through when necessary. Someone please invent these. But I digress…
Now that my hands were warm my hike instantly looked more promising, despite the cold weather. The lack of wind below treeline helped too. The trail varied from large amounts of snow to just a little on the trail. It was easier to just keep my snowshoes on, so I did, even when they weren’t necessary.
As the sun started to rise I got my first good look at Organ Mountain (this isn’t the summit).
Did I mention the animal tracks? It was obvious no one had been on this trail for quite a while. Well, no one but our 4 legged friends. I saw tiny prints from mice, fox prints, and the biggest rabbit prints I’d ever seen. Oh, and the deer and elk and moose prints were everywhere. This is how I knew they were moose tracks…
The animal tracks were super helpful for finding the actual trail. There was a trail here, but it was invisible with all the snow. Luckily the animals knew where it was (mostly). When the animal tracks obviously veered off the trail I just followed the creek. This trail follows the Hondo Creek all the way to treeline, so as long as you parallel the creek you’re fine.
And check these tracks out! I instantly knew these were mountain lion tracks and got excited!
They followed the trail for over a mile and were headed in the same direction I was. I found it fun the lion didn’t always stick to the trail, but sometimes hopped onto logs and traversed them seemingly for ‘fun’ and then jumped back along the trail again.
Then all at once the tracks veered off in another direction. I decided to follow them for a bit to see if they paralleled the trail I was on or went another way. While these tracks were hours old (I could tell by traces of elements left by the wind) I still felt it prudent to see which direction the lion had taken so I knew whether or not to be on the lookout. Imagine my surprise when the tracks led me to its den no more than 50 feet off the route I was on! With no tracks leading back out I quickly retraced my steps and continued my hike (sorry, no pictures: I want to keep the kitty safe!).
I continued following Hondo Creek until treeline and got a great view of the route before me.
My research said to take a route to the right, but to me the left side of the mountain looked easier: Give me quick elevation gain over the long way any day! So, despite my map and trail directions I decided to go up the left (south) face of the mountain. It just seemed safer, especially since avalanche danger is more prominent on the north/east faces right now. Not that there was much snow to worry about. I was worried about the wind.
This was a steep climb and would have been easier without the traces of snow, but the rocks were semi stable and I didn’t need to worry about causing an avalanche/rockslide below me. I kept my snowshoes on for stability. I was able to gain the ridge in about half an hour and could see the rest of the route before me. This is where the wind picked up (25mph) and took the 0* temperatures to new negative levels. But I was dressed well, and as long as I didn’t take off my gloves I was ok.
This is the route I took.
And looking back down from the ridge at the route from my truck to this point
There are several false summits on this mountain. After gaining the ridge I was on a small plateau that gave me a break from elevation gain (here’s looking back at the plateau)
But there were still two other points to gain
I stuck to the drier areas and just followed the ridge up to 13,400’ where there was a small rock wall and a lot of wind. It wasn’t too steep and as long as I didn’t stop I didn’t get too cold.
From here I dipped down and climbed the approx. 400’ to the summit or Organ Mountain. Sorry, but I don’t have many pictures from the summit. I couldn’t take off my gloves and my DSLR camera was doing that fun thing where it takes 50 seconds to take a picture, and I was, well, FREEZING! That wind was brutal! I got out my cell phone to take a video and it went from 40% battery to 9% and turned itself off before I could even start videoing, let alone take off my gloves to start the process. Great. I’d made it, but my camera(s) hadn’t. Here’s the one terrible picture I got from the summit before my cameras failed. I summited at 9:28am.
I didn’t stay long because I was cold and on a mission to get home before 6pm so I could take my daughter to a play tonight, so I turned and booked it back down. When I made it to point 13,400 again the wind died down for a bit and I was able to plug my phone into the solar powered battery charger I’d brought. The phone turned on again, but my route had been lost.
I made it to the ridge and had a great view of the way I was supposed to gain the ridge to the plateau but hadn’t. No regrets!
Time to head back down! (Those tracks aren’t mine… I’m guessing Mountain Sheep/Goat)
Here’s the route I took. I just headed for the basin. Yes, it’s steeper than it looks, but the rocks are relatively stable, especially with snowshoes on.
I made it back to the basin and followed it back to Hondo Creek. At the top I found the remains of what’s most likely an elk/moose, and probably the source of a few of the mountain lions’ meals (or had been this past spring/summer: the carcass had been picked pretty dry by this point). It was the right distance away from the lion den to be its food source, and it had been buried at one point. There weren’t any tracks here, but I didn’t stop to investigate much either.
Now I was racing against the clock. Luckily, I had my previous tracks to guide me back down the mountain. Knowing I just needed to follow the creek I took a more expeditious route and stayed to the north of the creek, instead of dropping down into the creek as I had on the way up. This made the trek much faster.
As I descended the temperature warmed up and I was much more comfortable. I made it back down to my truck at 12:15pm, still the only vehicle in the lot. This was a 9 mile hike with 3500’ of elevation gain completed in approximately 6.5 hours.
I immediately changed out of my gear and switched my snow boots to sandals for the drive home.
The drive out was much easier than the drive in, but I was more careful as well. There weren’t any vehicles parked at any of the trailheads. I passed a truck with a trailer full of wood who didn’t seem to mind driving on the snow to get around me, and a large tractor with the biggest tires I’d ever seen wearing chains crunching down the road. And I didn’t die from exposure! Woot!
The weather forecast for this weekend was terrible. So terrible in fact they cancelled the 14er Winter Welcomer (where they teach newbies how to hike in winter-like conditions). I watched the weather very closely and narrowed the best weather down to the Sawatch range, right along the 82. Unfortunately, they usually close the 82 the first week of November, and today’s the 2nd. Oh, and the weather forecast wasn’t that great, it was just better than anywhere else in the state (40% chance of snow, 15-29*, winds 20-45mph… yes, that was the BEST forecast).
I’m still learning about alpine hiking in late fall/winter (considered early winter season conditions), so I made a promise to myself until I learn more about correlating forecasts to actual conditions to drive out to the trailheads and not make a decision on whether or not I’d hike until I was actually there. So this morning I drove past Buena Vista and a sign indicating the 82/Independence Pass was open. Woohoo! Now my only worry was they’d close it while I was parked at a trailhead and I wouldn’t be able to drive out (do they have plans for that?).
Well, that was my only worry, until I started driving on the 82. Almost immediately it was sketchy. It wasn’t snowing, but snow was blowing all over the roads. I could tell no one had been on the road in quite some time (an hour or more?). No one was passing me coming the other way, and I had to drive much slower than normal to avoid ice. I made it to the trailhead, but when I arrived it was whiteout conditions, and actually snowing at that time. The forecast indicated the snow would stop but the winds would pick up. I knew it wasn’t safe to hike in the dark in these conditions (and most likely not in the light of day either). I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise because I wouldn’t have enough time to complete the hike. Drat. I was going to have to turn around. This stunk, but I knew it was the right decision. Those winds were insane, and the snow was just going to keep blowing as long as the wind did. If these were the conditions below treeline it would be a miserable hike, even more so above treeline, and I most likely wouldn’t summit.
When you show up to the 13er trailhead with the best weather forecast in the state and life gives you whiteout conditions but you NEED TO HIKE you change tactics.
On the drive home I frantically thought of which local mountains (below treeline) I’d yet to summit. I had none in mind… In fact, I haven’t even started planning my local winter summits because I figured if I never planned them I’d never have to use them. Ouch, that was coming back to haunt me now. I didn’t have any of my local maps with me, or any routes planned (I did have 8 different 13er routes though, but the weather wasn’t going to let any of them happen today). I guess I’d just hike the Incline a few times so at least I’d still get in some elevation gain. That’s when it hit me: Mt Manitou! I’d heard that was a nice alternative to the incline that no one used. I googled it. No luck. I couldn’t find a route, but I could find one for Rocky Mountain (a 9K summit directly behind the Incline). I was going to go for it.
I made it to the Manitou Incline Trailhead and began at 8am (after taking off my snow clothes: it wouldn’t get that cold below 10K today).
The Incline was much icier than I’d anticipated.
I had my microspikes, but didn’t put them on. Most experienced incliners had theirs on. As usual with the incline, I kept a steady pace but didn’t stop. It took me 41 minutes 39 seconds to make it to the top, after taking time to help someone with their yack tracks and careful foot placement due to ice.
I was overdressed in my knit hat and snow jacket, but the top of the incline wasn’t my intended destination. I took a few pictures and continued uphill, past the old foundations.
There’s actually a 4WD road here.
I took it for 1.5 miles and then left the road on a trail that heads towards the summit. The cutoff is at this post.
The trail was covered in snow, and I backtracked a few times due to game trails (and fresh prints from said game) but was always able to find my way back to the actual trail.
The snow was about 6” deep. Luckily I had on winter boots that went to my shins. These had looked ridiculous on the incline, but were coming in handy now.
I turned right at an area with some large boulders (after initially heading straight/north, which I soon figured wasn’t a trail that led to the summit)
I rounded several corners and finally came to the summit block of Rocky Mountain. This is what I saw.
What?!?!? This didn’t look too difficult, but I didn’t bring my helmet, as I didn’t think I’d need to do any rock climbing. It was also icy due to snow and, well, ice. Before climbing I decided to walk further around the side to see if there was another route up, and sure enough, there was.
It was an easy climb to the summit, which still had remnants of some sort of past structure.
I summited at 9:15am
VIDEO:
It was WINDY! Seriously windy! And COLD!!! And I wasn’t even above treeline! It was a good call to alter my hiking plans for today and to overdress for the Incline. After retrieving a glove that had been caught in the wind and flown about 10 yards away I hiked back to below the summit block and got a few pictures of Pikes Peak.
And then I was on my way down. I just followed my tracks. When I got to the boulder area I decided to actually take that trail I’d seen earlier, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was a trail. I stopped for a bit, turned on my data, and tried to see if there was a trail to Mt Manitou from here? No luck. The trail I was on went north (and lower in elevation). I could see Mt Manitou,
and debated just hiking the half mile over there, but the snow was getting deeper and I didn’t have snow pants/snow shoes and the snow I’d been trekking in was turning to water on my clothes. This wouldn’t end well with the wind, so I backtracked and found the Barr trail. Here’s a view of Cameron Cone
taking it back down to the base of the Incline. The Barr trail was much icier than I’d anticipated. Spikes would have been helpful (but I was too stubborn to put them on and instead put up with the occasional sliding: Thank you Yoga for the balance).
I made it back to where I’d started, but I wasn’t tired yet!!! It was exactly 11am, so I decided to hike the Incline again. The second go up the incline was more difficult than the first because there were a lot more people, it was warmer out (I still had on my winter coat and hat) and I was tired. This time it took me 49 minutes to summit. That’s the longest it’s ever taken me, and I was quite tired when I reached the top.
I immediately headed back down the trail, which was muddy now since most of the snow/ice had melted.
I made it to my truck at 12:40pm. I checked Strava, and this was a 10 mile hike with 4500’ in elevation gain, completed in under 5 hours. I felt great!
Wild Wanderer 