I made it to the La Plata Trailhead a little after 4am and was surprised to see someone getting ready to hike La Plata. As I was getting my gear together I heard him trek off in his snowshoes.
I started at 4:20am, excited to find the 82 open well past the La Plata trailhead. I briefly considered moving my truck, but quickly thought this wasn’t a long hike anyway: It would be nice to get in a few extra miles to make this hike a little longer.
The road was open, but there wasn’t a lot of parking available because of all the avalanche debris lining the roadway. Everything that could slide in the area apparently had slid at least once.
On a positive note, everything smelled like fresh cut pine. I followed the road for a mile in the dark and then turned right to begin the climb. This area had seen an avalanche as well, and even though they weren’t completely necessary at this point I put on my crampons and left them on for the entire hike. In the dark navigating the debris up the avalanche slide felt daunting, but in the light of day it looks pretty easy. Here’s the route I took
The gully was steep and filled with snow, so I just kept to the center and followed the gully. Even though this area had avalanched, as I neared the top of the gully I discovered it was loaded with snow ready to drop. I didn’t want to be here when the weather warmed up today!
The sun started to rise, and at about 13,000’ I started using my ice axe, following the center of the gully.
The steepest part was just below the summit ridge. Here is where my ice axe proved extremely useful and my calves started screaming. I just kept crawling forward, intent on summiting before the weather warmed the snow.
At the summit ridge the terrain became much easier. I stood up and walked toward the summit bump
This part was easy! There was a small section to climb
The weather was absolutely perfect! It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either, and there wasn’t any wind! I was able to get a video on the summit, and actually stayed and enjoyed the view for a while
OK, now it was time to head down.
In the light of day I could appreciate just how steep the gully was
About halfway down I paused to take a video of the water I could hear flowing under the snow below me. Yep, it was time to get off this waterfall
I decided to see just how far the 82 was open, so I drove down the road a bit in my truck. I made it 2.5 miles before the next closure sign, and saw evidence of multiple avalanches along the way.
With my morning over at 9am I decided to drive 4 hours to the next trailhead and rest a bit before my next adventure…
The Colorado winds were high so I decided to head down to New Mexico this week to do some highpointing. Taos is actually closer to my house than many Colorado peaks, so the 4 hour drive wasn’t too demanding. In fact, it was kind of fun. When I made it past Ft Garland I saw a road sign indicating there were bighorn sheep in the area. To my surprise I immediately encountered a herd of bighorn sheep standing along the side of the road. A few minutes later I saw a sign warning of cows, and wouldn’t you know it? Cows on the road. The same thing happened with the deer and elk warning signs, and a few minutes later, even horses! I hadn’t realized there were wild horses in the San Luis Valley, but yep, there sure are! With all this good luck with animal sightings I kept hoping to see a sign indicating buffalo or elephants or zebras were in the area, but alas, wild horses were about as exotic as it got. Kudos to the group that placed those signs so accurately.
I made it to the trailhead at 4:45am and was on the trail by 5am. Oh, and I did a terrible job parking (without realizing it). I actually made it to the trailhead about half an hour earlier than expected, and only recognized I was there because I saw the “Bull of the Woods trailhead” sign as I was driving by, so I backed up, parked, and was on my way.
It wasn’t until I was on my way down I saw there was a real parking area directly below where I’d parked. Oops!
The full moon was absolutely amazing! Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get a good picture, but it was so bright I didn’t need my flashlight. I brought my snowshoes but didn’t put them on until I’d almost made it to treeline. There was quite a bit of snow on the trail (4 feet or so) but the snow was consolidated so I was able to just walk on top of it. There were also tracks to follow.
I could hear a stream to my right, but in the dark I wasn’t able to see the water. There were numerous trails criss-crossing the trail I was on, but as long as I kept hiking in the same direction (northeast) and aimed for the ridge I knew I was on the right track. I stayed on the widest path, or what looked like the widest path.
I knew I was supposed to cross the stream at some point, but never saw a bridge. It turns out I crossed the stream without knowing it! Here’s a look at the “stream crossing” from my way back.
Yes, that moon was full!
I made it to the Red River Canyon Overlook just as the sun was beginning to rise
At the overlook I turned right and followed the trail to the Bull of the Woods pasture (which didn’t resemble a pasture at all. Maybe it was the snow?)
The footprints stopped, so I was breaking trail from here on out. I got lost a few times trying to stay off private property, but there was so much snow it was impossible to know where the trail was on the mountain. (Hint, go left)
I stopped and put on my snowshoes and followed the ridge, making my own trail.
The section after cresting this hill was much steeper than it looks. I had to swing around to the right in order to safely climb through the snow. Here the crampons on my snowshoes came in very helpful.
Until the snow just kind of stopped. I knew more snow was coming, so instead of taking off my snowshoes I followed the faint trail of snow around Bull of the Woods Mountain. Here there was either very little snow, or large, steep drifts of 20+ feet. I was glad to have my ice axe.
I rounded Frazier Mountain and could smell sheep. I looked all around, but not seeing any figured they must have passed the area recently (but that smell was strong!). I was now presented with the La Cal Basin, which included a 300 foot loss in elevation. This is also where there was quite a bit of snow, which I decided to take advantage of. I needed to cross the basin, avoid those dicey avalanche areas, and then re-ascend the switchbacks on my left.
Crossing into the basin was a bit sketchy
And I was glad to make it to the switchbacks on the other side. Here there wasn’t much snow, so in keeping with my goal of not taking off my snowshoes (just to put them back on again) I stuck to the snow lined trail.
About halfway up the mountainside I saw a few bighorn sheep
And when I looked across the ridge I saw even more!
From here I saw what I thought was Wheeler Peak, but it was instead Mt Walter (Wheeler is beyond). I stuck to the snow to make use of my snowshoes
Sticking to the snow looked like this
And from the top of this point (13,045) I could see Mt Walter and Wheeler Peak. Sticking to the ridge (and the snow) was the way to go!
I passed Mt Walter and took a few quick photos of the signs and a selfie to prove I was there.
From here you can clearly see the summit of Wheeler Peak
Once again, I stuck to the ridge
And summited at 8:45am
Here’s the Summit Video, which I’m excited to say is the first summit video I’ve been able to take all year! I’m so glad it was warm today and sans wind.
OK, time to turn back. Here’s what the route looks like back from Wheeler Peak… just stick to the ridge
Yep, lots of snow! I was glad to have my ice axe. Snowshoes were a must the entire way back down.
I started crossing the basin again, and unfortunately the sun had warmed up the snow. Snow kept collecting under my snowshoes and I had to keep stopping to kick it off. I made it back to Frazier Hill and saw those sheep I’d smelled earlier (I KNEW they were there somewhere!)
Following the trail in the light of day proved much easier than in the dark, with the added bonus of being able to follow my snowshoe tracks.
I made it back to Bull of the Woods pasture and once again found footprints. Lots and lots of prints, both human and animal.
The only downside to the warmth of the sun (besides clumps of snow in my snowshoes)? Rollerballs the size of dinner plates
As I followed the trail back to the stream I was actually able to see the stream
I didn’t see anyone all day until I was about half a mile from the trailhead on my way back down. I talked with a gentlemen about the conditions on the trail. He said he’s hiked these trails for years and was surprised I’d summited today. He was even more surprised when I told him I’d started at 5am. In fact, he didn’t entirely believe me. I made it back to the trailhead at noon, and when I stopped my Strava tracker I was told I’d sent a new app record for completing this hike. Pretty cool! I’d hiked the 14.2 miles of 4467’ in elevation gain in 7 hours.
Just for fun, here’s the relive of my hike. Note: Obviously I summited today, yet the tracker shows my high point was just shy of Mt Walter at 13,139’ (not Mt Wheeler at 13,167’), which is one of the reasons I take what these trackers record with a grain of salt. I’ve had people tell me because my tracker doesn’t show a summit that I didn’t summit. I call those people summit snobs and unfollow them from my account(s). No one needs that kind of drama in their life!
Oh, and the good news? I was finally able to get my New Mexico Starbucks mug in Taos! I’ve been trying for years to get a New Mexico mug to add to my collection, but they’re always out when I visit. Funny, the mug doesn’t mention aliens at all…
Also, the ski season in Taos is over, which was a real shame because there was so much snow! And, Taos is beautiful! Majestic even. I had no idea!
I’d attempted this peak a few weeks ago but had to turn back due to high winds above treeline. Today I was ready to try again, armed with a beautiful weather forecast and a full night’s sleep.
Since I’d been here 2 weeks ago and knew it had snowed here quite a big since then I didn’t even attempt to drive to the upper South Colony Lakes trailhead. I made it to the South Colony Lakes lower 2WD trailhead at 4am to one other vehicle in the lot. It looked as if someone was sleeping in their truck. I got together my gear and was on the trail around 4:15am. After hiking about 100 yards I came upon snow on the 4WD road and was glad I’d parked in the lower lot.
Unfortunately, it looked like someone had attempted to drive up the road in the past few days. When the road got too much snow on it they drove off the dirt road, kept driving parallel to the road, and then when they felt there was less snow went back to the main road.
This tears up everything people! Don’t do this! It also looks like they learned their lesson because they got stuck in a snow drift. I’m guessing there’s about 4 feet of snow here. Not only did they get stuck, they tore up the road trying to get out, which will make it more difficult for drivers to make it to the upper trailhead once conditions actually improve.
The road in was well packed in areas, soft in others, and covered in 2-6 feet of snow. It was still dark so I kept looking over my shoulder to see if anyone drove in behind me or was hiking with a flashlight but didn’t see anyone. I put on my snowshoes at the Rainbow Trail Trailhead.
This trailhead is still inaccessible by vehicle and covered in snow.
I had a map with me, but since I’d just done most of this hike 2 weeks ago I never took it out of my pack. From the Rainbow Trail I turned left (northeast) and followed the slope up to the ridgecrest. Here the tracks I’d put in earlier were still in place, and it looked like a few others had been here since then, so there was a faint trail to follow
At the top of the slope I immediately turned right and followed the ridge. The ridge looks mostly flat, but does gain in elevation, all except for one area where it dips down a couple hundred feet and then inclines again.
This was supposed to be a 7-10 mile hike, with about 3500’ in elevation gain, but for some reason it felt like a lot more than that. It seemed I was below treeline for much, much longer than I should have been, yet I knew I was still on track because as the sun rose I could see Humboldt peeking at me through the trees to my right.
Finally (and I mean finally) I crested a vertical slope
And made it to treeline.
Here the snow was hard packed and I was glad I had snowshoes (crampons would have been necessary otherwise). I traded my trekking pole for my ice axe and started up the hill.
The wind picked up, and remained a steady 15mph until I made it back below treeline. In this area it was impossible to avoid the snow
But as soon as I was up over this hill I had the option to stick to the snow or hike on tundra instead. I was tired of the snowshoes, so I took them off and kept to the right, following the ridge.
The view of the Crestones and Humboldt was beautiful!
The rest of the route was pretty straightforward, but I was curiously more tired than I should have been for just 3500’ in elevation gain. I was seriously worried I was losing my touch, or that I was getting out of shape? As I neared the summit the terrain became more rocky and steep. I found myself zig-zagging my way up, doing my best to avoid the random snow patch that had me post holing up to my thighs
I summited to some amazing views of Humboldt, the Crestones, and a bunch of 13ers!
Here’s my summit photo
It was a beautiful day, but that wind made it cold and my fingers were starting to burn so I turned around and headed back down the slope. Here’s a look at the way I came
Here’s what it looks like just above treeline. Snowshoes were helpful (and here I put them back on). I appreciated the full coverage of snow
The ridge back once again seemed to take longer than necessary. It felt like I was in the trees forever! I was still glad I had my snowshoes
The wind stopped below treeline and the temperature increased dramatically. I took off my hat and gloves and noticed my hands had some minor damage, but nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few days. I saw a couple of early season mosquitoes on the ridge, which were easily distinguishable against the white backdrop of snow. I made it back to the Rainbow Trail and followed it to the Lower South Colony Lakes trail, noticing the temperatures had warmed up the snow quite a bit and once again praising my snowshoes: The road was becoming a slushy mess.
I fully expected to see people hiking up the trail or skinning, or something, but I never did. I didn’t see another person the entire day, and as I rounded the corner and could see the parking lot it became apparent why: my truck was the only vehicle in the lot! I’d had the entire mountain to myself today!
It had been a beautiful day to hike: Little wind, warm temperatures, and solitude. When I checked my tracker it said I’d gone 11.6 miles and gained 4682’ in elevation in 6.5 hours. No wonder I’d felt out of shape! I’d expected a 7-10 mile, 3500’ elevation hike. As I’d been hiking I’d begun to doubt my physical fitness, but these new numbers seemed much more accurate.
Here’s my Relive (which I like this time because it portrays the snow above treeline)
I was supposed to hike yesterday. I got up at 2am and drove up and through Woodland Park to increasing snow. I checked my weather app and it looked like it was going to snow in this area until 8am. I made it to Lake George and was forced to turn around due to road conditions (they don’t plow this road at night). So while I’d done my research and the weather conditions were good on the peak I’d intended to hike, the only road into that hike had bad weather and I was forced to turn around. Bummer! What’s worse is I’d already had quite a bit of coffee, so when I made it home around 5am I was unable to go back to sleep. Oh well, I ran on the treadmill, got a lot of much needed cleaning done, took my daughter ice skating, did some grocery shopping, and made it to bed a bit early to try again the next day.
OK, round two. I chose a different peak for today because of weather reasons. I drove almost the exact same roads as I had last night and thankfully they were completely clear: You’d never know it had snowed yesterday. I made it to the Baldy Trailhead around 4:45am and there were several other cars already parked in the lot.
I gathered my gear and was on the trail around 5am. The 4WD road was closed, but the hike along the road was packed down from previous skiers/hikers. I wore my snowshoes from the parking lot, but they weren’t really necessary (I just didn’t want to carry them). They were necessary at the Iowa Mill.
This part of the hike was quite peaceful. I made it to the Iowa Mill while it was still dark and here is where the road ended and I encountered tons of ski tracks. I got out my map and saw there was supposed to be a dirt road that switchbacked up the slope, but since I couldn’t find the road under all this snow and I’m not a fan of switchbacking I just aimed south and hiked straight up the slope. This was very efficient and quite a workout on my calves. There weren’t any ski marks here, or footprints. In the dark the slope seemed steep, but I knew it was less than 30 degrees. Also, in the dark it seemed to last forever! I just kept aiming towards the radio tower and trudged on. I could see what looked like a mine in the distance I’d like to explore on my way down and made a mental note to check it out later.
I made it to the radio towers and took out my phone to take pictures. It immediately died and I stuck it back in my pocket. It’s a good thing I always lug around my DSLR while hiking. For those of you wondering what Breckenridge looks like from 12000’ at 6am, here you go:
OK, I’d made it to the radio towers
From the radio towers here’s the view of the remaining route
This was going to be easy! All I had to do was follow the ridge to the summit. There were many ups and downs. Here’s a look at the first up
and a few more
Around now the sun was beginning to rise. Alpine sunrises are totally worth 2am wake up times! I took a few minutes to just stop and enjoy.
There are cairns indicating you should go right (west)around the mountain, but with this much snow it’s much easier to just stick to the ridge (at this point I took the cairned route, but don’t recommend it). The cornices are very large but also very avoidable.
The sun had only just risen, but I could already tell it was going to be a bluebird day for most of the day, despite the cloudy forecast. As I looked in the distance I could see clouds, but they wouldn’t be getting in the way of my hike today.
I’m not sure what time I summited (my phone was still dead and while I had a charger I didn’t much care). The summit was flat and snow covered, so much that even the wind shelter was invisible. I wanted to get a picture with the mountains in the background so this is what I came up with.
Not only was today a bluebird day, there was no wind! This was fantastic! I wasn’t even cold (it had to be warmer than the forecasted 18 degrees… it felt more like it was in the 30s). My fingers and toes weren’t cold either. Woot!
Here’s a look back at the way I’d summited
OK, so on the way up I’d taken the cairn way around the side of the mountain, but I could tell from my view here it’d be an easier hike if I just stuck with the ridge, avoiding all of the exposed rocks on the west side. The climb was a bit steeper in areas, but that just meant I got to use my ice axe
Using my ice axe means shadowselfie time
Here’s more proof it’s better to stick to the ridge
I made it back to the radio towers and in the light of day could see the slope here is a popular backcountry ski area.
This is when I realized I hadn’t seen another person all day, yet there had been several other vehicles in the parking lot when I’d arrived, with signs that clearly said no overnight parking/camping. Hmmm.
All the tracks were to my left (west) but I really wanted to get a look at that mine, so I went right. It was nothing special, or it could have been more special when less covered in snow. In other words, there wasn’t much to see.
From here you can just follow the wires back to the Iowa Mill, but I decided instead to cut across the slope and pick up the trail the way I’d come. I could see my morning tracks from where I was, so I just aimed for them and cut across the slope. I debated glissading but in the end decided against it as it would put me far away from my earlier tracks.
It’s actually a bit steeper than it looks (although apparently not 30 degrees)
Back at treeline all the ski tracks came together and I was able to find the road again.
Here’s the Iowa Mill in daylight
The hike out was very straightforward. I saw three skiers hiking up as I was hiking out (the only people I saw all day). I was glad I’d gotten an early start: I wouldn’t want to be hiking the slope while others were trying to ski.
The entire hike today had been very enjoyable. The weather was perfect, there weren’t other people on the trail, I got to make my own route for much of the way, and I even used my ice axe for a bit. Nothing had been too technical, which allowed me to get in some really good thinking.
I made it back to my truck at 9:30 am, making this a 9 mile hike in 4.5 hours. I changed my clothes and put on sandals in place of my shoes for the drive home. I took a good look at my feet, surprised they hadn’t hurt today like on so many of my recent winter condition hikes. My feet were a yellow-white, and I mentally high-fived myself, not exactly sure how but thinking I’d avoided an attack. My truck wouldn’t start so I adjusted the battery (that fixed it) and looked at the temperature: 21 degrees at the trailhead. Wow! It had been cold out there! I just hadn’t noticed because there hadn’t been any wind and I’d been exercising.
About 10 minutes down the road my left toes started hurting quite a bit. The pain was a very intense burning sensation. I immediately knew what was going on but kept driving anyway, as there was nothing I could do about it. I looked down and yes, my toes were blue. Ugh! When I made it to the town of Alma I stopped to take a quick picture for documentation purposes (they looked much better at this point) and just kept driving. When I have an attack they go from white to blue to red. Red is the good color. My toes were still hurting but since my left foot was the only one affected I could still drive. I saved this picture for the end, as well as one of the less graphic pictures of my digital ulcers from last month. By now I’m used to this, and know it’s a consequence I’m willing to pay for getting above treeline in winter/spring. Apparently it happens even when my toes don’t get cold. Luckily, as long as I baby them they only take about a week to heal, which ends up being perfect for my next week’s hike!
I was really excited to get to go out above treeline for the second time in as many days, but my feet were not. They still hadn’t recovered from yesterday’s trenching up Quandary. The entire drive to the trailhead my left pinky toe kept cramping up and I had to wiggle it to get the sharp pains to stop. It was still a bit swollen, red, and tender to the touch. This is normal for me the day after a winter hike and it’s usually better within a few days, just in time for my next hike. I’d recently bought some toe guards and new compression socks I was hoping would help today.
The roads this morning were much better than yesterday but due to ice I still didn’t make it above 40mph for much of the drive. I realized when I was about halfway there I’d forgotten to take my vitamins before I left the house. I hope that didn’t come back to haunt me later. I arrived at 5:30am and was on the trail by 5:45am. I put on my snowshoes in the truck with my microspikes on underneath once again (I’d not worn spikes with my snowshoes yesterday and the straps had still come undone, so I decided wearing microspikes didn’t have an effect on the snowshoes).
While it was 1* outside I was happy to discover my toes stopped hurting before I’d even crossed the street to start on the trail, and they didn’t bother me for the entire hike. I quickly warmed up as I started hiking.
Today I planned on trying out an experiment. I was going to keep my phone in my pocket on airplane mode and I wasn’t going to use my phone today for any reason until I made it back to the trailhead. I wanted to see if this helped retain battery life in the phone. The downside of this is I wouldn’t know what time I summited or have the ability to take videos of the summit. (side note: my phone is normally on airplane mode when I’m hiking).
While I was hiking Quandary yesterday I studied Hoosier Ridge. It was snowing lightly on the summit so I knew even if there had been a trail it was gone now. Also, the conditions looked favorable for a climb.
I was pleasantly surprised to find someone had trenched a trail through the willows yesterday, and it was intact until I made it to the towers area. This made the beginning of the hike easy. From here I zig-zagged and trenched my way up the slope to the beginning of the ridge.
At the top of the slope I followed the ridge. At the top of each bump there are cairns, making route finding easy.
Here’s the route I took along the ridge.
There weren’t any tracks to follow for the rest of the hike, but the snow wasn’t too deep, making trenching easy.
I looked back over my shoulder as the sky lightened. The mountains were amazing this morning!
I reached the top of the slope just as the sun was beginning to rise over Mt Silverheels. I love alpine sunrises!
As I said before, I just followed the ridge… and kept following it, and followed it some more. There are tons of ups and downs on this hike. With each new bump in the ridge I kept thinking I’d made it to the summit: it’d felt like I’d hiked far enough, and the cairns/rock shelters must mean I’d summited. I’d take a picture, take out my map and look around, just to realize I still had more of the ridge to go. This happened twice. Oh, and those little bumps go up and down in elevation about 200’ each. Here’s a photo for reference…
Here’s a false summit
And another one
Oh look, a few more…
The ridge is longer than it looks, but there’s nothing technical about it. The only downside is all those hills! Every time I’d head down one I just knew it was going to haunt me on my way back. One cool part were the shadows all the slopes created. Of course I took a shadowselfie
Here’s a look back on that ridge
And here’s the final push up Hoosier Ridge
Woohoo! I summited!
I knew I was at the summit this time because I could see Red Mountain C and Red Peak in their correct positions on my topo map (one of the reasons I’d known I hadn’t summited prior to this was their absence).
Side note: Couldn’t they have been more creative than “Red Mountain” and “Red Peak”? Seriously.
From the summit of Hoosier Ridge looking at Red Mountain I could see I was going to run into some difficulties and considered not even attempting the summit. It had already been what seemed like a long day. There was more snow than I’d anticipated on the route up Red Mountain, and from where I was I couldn’t tell if it was stable or not. I could see a bunch of goat prints along the mountainside. As with all of my hiking decisions, I like to wait until I’m right up against a problem to make a judgment, but from this elevation I started devising my plan. I intended to hike down to the saddle (a good 500’ elevation drop) and then traverse to the slope. From here I wanted to ascend the slope along the ridge. Here’s my intended route.
I was worried about the stability of the snow, but knew from my research I shouldn’t need to worry too much about avalanche danger here today. Still, I planned on being careful and staying alert to my surroundings. I deviated from my route a bit due to snow conditions, but was happy with my choices.
Everything went to plan until I reached this area.
It was much steeper than I’d originally thought
I stood here for a few minutes and contemplated what I wanted to do. The goats had traversed further southwest, but if I took their route and slipped I’d keep falling for hundreds of feet, if not more. I saw the same consequences with going to the east. That meant I’d need to climb straight up this wall of snow, given that if I accidentally slipped I wouldn’t have far to fall and the snow I’d land on wouldn’t be filled with rocks.
I made my way towards the wall. It kept getting steeper the closer I got. Not only steeper, but softer as well. The sun was warming up the mountainside and the snow was quickly condensing under my snowshoes. I made it about halfway up the slope and slid down about 10 feet. Frustrated, I made my way back down and considered calling it a day. I looked back up on what I’d done.
This was frustrating. I knew if I could just make it over this wall the rest of the hike would be easy (don’t ask me how I knew this, I just knew). I was mad at my situation and got to thinking: I had an ice axe, and I’d been holding onto it and kind of using it. Why wasn’t I using it more aggressively like I was supposed to? This in no way compared to the difficulty I’d faced on Little Bear or Snowmass. I wasn’t trying hard enough.
The sun wasn’t getting any cooler: If I was going to do this I was going to have to do it now. It was time to turn around and try again. So I got out my ice axe and went to work. Crampons would have been much more helpful than my snowshoes, but I made it work. I’d drill a hole for my left hand, kick one of my snowshoes in, plug my ice axe in a little higher, and hauled myself up one step at a time. It was work, but I had the best feeling when I made it over that wall! I’d done it! Woot! And I was right, the rest of the hike up the ridge to the summit was a piece of cake.
I haven’t felt that good about earning a summit in what feels like a long time. I was exhilarated and thrilled with myself for not giving up.
Here’s a look back at the route
I was excited to head over to Red Peak, but didn’t want to re-summit Hoosier Ridge in order to do so if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Here’s the route I intended to take around Hoosier Ridge and over to the Red Peak saddle.
As I was heading back to the Hoosier/Red Mountain Saddle I looked back on the route I’d taken. It looked so much easier from this angle! The arrow shows where I stopped and re-started again.
For the first time today I put up my heel risers. Those things are amazing!
Traversing to the Hoosier/Red Peak saddle didn’t work quite as planned. I was trying to avoid the rocky area altogether, but as I got closer I found there was a ridge that with snow was steeper than it had looked on the map, so I had to ascend further than I’d originally anticipated, but I was still able to make it to the saddle without backtracking.
Once I gained the saddle I followed some goat tracks to the summit
This was the easiest part of my day by far
Here’s a look at the route I took from Red Mountain and the route I took back
At about this time I heard a buzzing sound and saw a flight for life helicopter heading towards Quandary. This was never a good sign. I said a silent prayer and began my hike back.
Re-summiting Hoosier Ridge wasn’t difficult, but by this time I was getting tired. I made it to the top of the ridge and started traversing. Once again heard the helicopter.
I turned back and got a good view of all 3 summits
The ridge back took what seemed like forever to cross.
Remember all those ups and downs from the ridge before? Well, they were still there and I got to re-summit each of those little slopes. Again.
Just as I was almost done with the ridge I came across a pair of hikers who were on their second hike of the day. They’d attempted Drift Peak earlier this morning but due to multiple cornices were unable to safely summit, so now they were attempting Mt Silverheels. I thought to myself “maybe that’s why it’s called ‘Drift Peak’?” and mentally wondered why no one had posted a recent conditions report? These were the third people I’ve heard from this week stating Drift Peak isn’t summitable, yet no one had added a conditions report. I wondered how many others had attempted and turned back as well? I wish more people would put in condition reports instead of just talking about the conditions to their friends online.
In any event, luckily someone had started after me and it looked like they’d veered off to summit Mt Silverheels, so these two hikers would have a trench to follow. They seemed in good spirits, despite already hiking since 4:30am. I wished them luck and was more than ready to finish my hike.
It was a lovely day, sunny, with no wind. I wasn’t the only one who’d thought so: the trench I’d made on my way in was now very well packed down, and there was evidence of skiers everywhere.
I made it back to my truck at 2pm, making this a 12 mile hike in just over 8 hours. The parking lot was full.
I looked at my tracker: It had worked! However, today’s hike had felt like more than 4000’ in elevation gain. I’d actually thought it was closer to 5000’, but maybe that was just leftover Quandary talking from my hike yesterday.
My phone said I had 22% battery and hadn’t turned off once the entire time I’d been out. Usually when it’s cold it it turns itself off each time I take it out of my pocket. When I plugged it in it immediately went to 77%. What I’ve learned is when it’s cold the phone isn’t out of battery, it just doesn’t operate well in the cold, so it shuts itself off (even though it really has plenty of batter life left). The only way to keep it from “running out of battery” and turning off is not to take the phone out/use it.
I quickly took off my outer layers and put on my sandals for the drive home. As soon as I pulled out of the parking lot I felt a sharp pain in my left pinky toe. Ow! Ow! Ow-Ow-Ow!!! It felt as if I’d been stung by a scorpion! Immediately I pulled over to the side of the road to inspect my foot. My pinky toe was completely blue but as I watched it slowly turned to a bright red, starting from the base of the toe and moving up like a thermometer. What had felt like venom spreading like fire through my toe was actually just the blood re circulating through my feet. Though my other toes were partially blue, they didn’t hurt. Bright red is normal for me after a hike. I sat there fascinated as I watched my toes turn colors, and belatedly thought to take a picture. (This picture was taken about half way through the process).
The pain was intense, but within a few minutes my foot was back to normal and I drove the rest of the way home. It seems the reason my toes hadn’t hurt during my hike was because they’d had an attack as soon as I’d started hiking this morning. Also, my new tricks (toe guards, compression socks, etc.) hadn’t done their job. Or maybe the attack was because I’d forgotten to take my vitamins this morning? In any event, I’m going to have to watch my toes this week, especially the pinky. It’s currently in the same condition it was in before today’s hike (red and swollen and a bit painful to the touch), but this is ‘normal’.
A man died on Quandary today. It’s a sober reminder the mountains aren’t forgiving of mistakes. Make good choices and wear your helmet friends. Sending prayers to all involved.
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.
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).
Relive: 
Wild Wanderer 