Cornice – Wild Wanderer

Spring Mountain – 13,244 and Venable Peak – 13,334

RT Length: 14.24 miles

Elevation Gain: 5572’

This was my third attempt at Spring Mountain and Venable Peak. My second attempt was just yesterday, when I turned around about 200 feet from the saddle, coming from Venable Trail (trip report can be found here). This morning I was attempting to summit via the Comanche Trail, which I had used successfully earlier in the week to summit Comanche Peak (trip report can be found here). Of course, it had been snowing on my way out, but it hadn’t snowed since then. I was crossing my fingers for fair conditions on the trail since the last storm.

There was one other vehicle in the lot when I woke up. I took my time getting ready, and was on the trail at 6am. The trail is obvious from the parking area.

I followed this wide, class 1 trail for half a mile to the Rainbow Trail/Comanche Trail junction

At the Rainbow Trail/Comanche Trail junction I continued straight on the Comanche Trail (1345)

Just after the junction there was a trail register. I registered and was on my way

From here on out the trail was narrower, but it was still class 1. I followed the trail southwest as it headed toward Comanche Lake

I saw snow on the trail around 10600’ and noticed a set of tracks. It looked like someone was ahead of me on the trail. I wondered how long it would be until I ran into them?

The snow continued off and on until I made it to the upper basin, where it was on the trail for good.

After 4.3 miles of hiking, I made it to Comanche Lake

I continued on the trail. I was headed for Comanche Pass

The trail, while under several inches of snow, was easy to follow.

Just before making it to the pass I overtook the hiker ahead of me. It was my turn to do the trenching! I followed some coyote tracks to the pass. The snow here was never more than knee deep, so I didn’t bother with snowshoes/traction.

I’d done this peak a few days ago, and knew I wanted microspikes and an ice axe to get over the cornice. I sat down to put them on, and my new hiking buddy continued on the lower trail to the Comanche/Spring saddle (he was summiting Comanche today). The cornice was just as sugary as it had been on Tuesday, which made for a fun time.

It was 5.8 miles of hiking to the pass. Once over the cornice I turned right and headed north along the ridge. This is where the wind picked up, and didn’t stop until I made it back down the pass on my way out.

The terrain here started as tundra, but quickly turned rocky. It stayed class 2.

I mainly stuck to the ridge, dipping down left in the rocky areas, and to the right just before the summit. If I looked left, I could see the trail I’d be taking on my way out (the only place the snow was sticking on this side of the mountain)

Here are some more pictures of the route up the ridge

The rocks here were unstable, so I had to be careful with every step

There was a little bit of snow the final push to the summit

I summited Spring Mountain at 10am

Spring Mountain:

Here’s looking back at the ridge, Comanche Pass, and Comanche Peak

Next, I was headed to Venable Peak, directly to the west.

I made my way down to the Spring/Venable saddle, losing about 500’ in elevation over rocky terrain, all class 2

Here’s looking back at that rocky terrain coming down from Spring Mountain

This is the path I took to summit Venable Peak. I took the solid line up, the dotted line down. The entire area is class 2, so choose your own adventure

Step by step to the ridge, gaining about 580’. The terrain started out rocky, and then turned to tundra

Once on the ridge, I followed it southwest to the summit. The snow was sugary, so I stayed a bit to the right, near the rocks

I summited Venable Peak at 11am

Venable Peak:

Here’s looking back at Venables ridge

From the summit, I headed east, towards the highly visible Comanche Trail. I was aiming for Comanche Pass

I made my way towards Comanche Trail on class 2 tundra sprinkled with patches of snow

And then followed the trail south to Comanche Pass

Once at the Comanche/Spring saddle I turned left, and took the trail that goes below the cornice (it’s located near the willows). I didn’t want to take the cornice back down, as it had been unconsolidated on my way up; I felt later in the afternoon it would be even more difficult to downclimb.

Here’s looking back up at that cornice (the trail is directly below the cornice)

From the pass I followed the class 1 trail 5.8 miles back to the trailhead.

I made it back to my truck at 1:30pm, making this a 14.24 mile hike with 5572’ of elevation gain in 7.5 hours.

On to the next trailhead!

Venable Peak – 13,334- Attempt

RT Length: 11.9 miles

Elevation Gain: 3921’

I made it to the trailhead late the night before, and slept in the cab of my truck. Well, I tried to sleep. Unfortunately, there was internet access at this trailhead. This meant I was scrolling through my phone until 1 in the morning. I hit the snooze button three times before waking up to dawn approaching. I threw on my gear, waved at the hunter who just pulled up in the parking area, and was on the trail at 7am. This morning I was taking the Venable Trail, which is clearly marked from the parking area.

I followed the trail as it crossed over a bridge

After hiking for half a mile, I came to a junction with the Rainbow Trail, and continued straight, following the Venable Trail (1347).

Just after this junction there was a trail register. I signed it, and continued following the Venable Trail southwest

This is a class 1 trail. Today’s conditions varied, from being covered with ice, to being bare dirt, to several inches of snow.

After hiking for 2.5 miles, I came to the junction for Venable Falls. Here I continued straight on the trail, towards Venable Lakes

The trail increasingly became more snow covered, but no traction was necessary. Of course, most of the snow present was directly on the trail. This is where I was headed

I rounded this hill (lower Venable Lake is to the right)

And after 5 miles of hiking, I made it to the lower Venable Lake

I kept following the trail

After hiking a total of 5.5 miles I came to what I assumed was a junction (it was covered in snow and the sign was missing: only a post remained). I turned left and took Comanche Trail (1345) towards the pass.

I now had a good view of the rest of my route to the pass

More and more snow started accumulating on the trail. It was sugary, so I put on my microspikes. I had snowshoes, but the snow was so sugary they wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

It was slow going, and I had to spend a lot of time making a solid path in some areas through the snow, doing my best to hug the cliff, not entirely sure how wide the trail was. I was doing find until I got to this area:

I was about 200 feet from the pass, and the snow drifts were now taller than I was. I kept seeing snow slide down below my feet, over the cliffs, and made the decision to turn back. It hurt to turn back, but I knew it was for a good reason: I’m out here solo, and while I might have made it past the snow/cornice to the pass, I couldn’t have done so safely, and a fall would have been fatal. The red arrow is where I turned around. You can see the tracks where I stopped

Just for reference, I was able to summit this peak via the Comanche trail the next day. Here’s what the pass looked like from above

And look at how close I’d been to the summit of Venable!

For those of you interested in taking this route, this is how I summited Venable the next day. I took the solid line up, the dotted line down. Both were class 2 (although the ridge had quite a bit of snow)

However, I wasn’t summiting today. Instead, I turned around and hiked the 6 miles back to the trailhead.

On my way out I made plans to hike Venable and Spring from the Comanche Trail the next morning. Added bonus: I didn’t have to drive to another trailhead, since the Venable and Comanche Trailheads share a parking lot. I made it back to my truck at 12:30pm, which gave me plenty of time to read, drink whiskey, talk to hunters, and get some rest before tomorrow’s attempt.

Here’s a topo map from today’s attempt, and another along with the route I took the next day

You can find my successful Venable trip report here.

Geneva Peak – 13,266 and Landslide Peak – 13,238

RT Length: 9.84 miles

Elevation Gain: 2965’

It took me longer than anticipated to get to the trailhead due to an unexpected semi fire on I70. At first it looked like the entire hillside was on fire, due to all the smoke, but as I got closer I realized it was a semi. West bound wasn’t closed however, so I was able to get past it faster than those travelling east (which was closed).

When I finally made it to Montezuma, I turned left on 285 and followed it towards Webster Pass

This is a moderate 4WD road (which is good, since I still don’t have my new truck). They are serious about ‘no parking’ on private land here, and let you know you’re not allowed to park in any available pullout.

I was able to drive the .7 miles to the gate, but when I got there the gate was closed. Had it been open, I would have been able to drive all the way to 11000’. It was closed to allow for spring runoff (I’d find the next day it’s going to be a while before it opens: Webster Pass is still socked in and the 4WD roads have several feet of snow in some areas).

There were 3 places to park here, but none of them were very level, so I turned to drive my truck to a spot I’d seen on my way in, just about a dozen yards or so back down the road. As I was doing so, I noticed 3 ATVs: The drivers drove them through the woods, around the closed gate sign, and up the road. On my hike the next day it was obvious theirs were the only tracks. I was mad they were breaking the rules, but also hoping maybe they were ‘official’ and checking to see if the trails had melted out? They didn’t look very official. They also looked like they’d had to turn around.

Here’s the camping spot I chose for the night: a legal place to park at 10780’, next to the Snake River.

I got out and explored. There are several fire pits behind the parking area, and what look like good places to put up a tent.

After exploring, I went back to my truck, made dinner, sipped some whiskey, and started reading a book I bought at a used bookstore in Arizona: The Magnificent Mountain Women, Adventures in the Colorado Rockies by Janet Robertson (1990). It’s about all the first women to summit various Colorado Mountains, mostly 14ers. While I only made it about 50 pages in that night, so far it’s a great book, with a lot of good points and tons of background information on the lives of these women and their ascents. Added bonus: it includes pictures.

After a few chapters I decided to make it an early night. I had a lot of dental work done the day before and I was still sore. I had a hummingbird come visit me inside the topper of my truck (that’s 5 times now that’s happened to me), cleaned up, and went to bed.

I know the route I took is not the conventional route to Geneva/Landslide, but I did this on purpose: I’m hiking the loop with a friend next week and I’m trying to keep my streak of summiting peaks solo before going with someone. I hadn’t yet done Geneva, so I wanted to tick it off before we climbed it together next week, so I got a bit creative.

I was on the road at 5am, just before the sun rose. I took a quick short-cut from my camping spot through the trees to the gate (saved me a total of about 5 yards of walking). It’s an obvious and well-travelled side trail.

I passed the gate and continued along 285

I followed this road for .85 miles, until I came to a wide-open gulch. This is probably where I would have parked if the gate had been open. My hike would take me on a loop back to this place.

Here’s an overview of my hike to treeline:

There was a sign indicating a trail that intersected the road at 11045’. It showed there was a trail heading southeast, and indeed, in the dark it looked like there was a trail. I knew I wanted to head this way, so I started following the ‘trail’.

I’m thinking this was a snowshoeing trail. But, in any event, it took me in the right direction. The only problem? It was under spring runout. The entire area was marshy and I was sinking in the slush. Not fun. I found if I stayed higher, more to the left, I was able to miss the brunt of it. The ‘trail’ ended after about 200 feet. One thing I knew: this was not going to be fun on my way back. I decided to take the road down. I continued hugging the trees for three quarters of a mile, doing my best to avoid the willows

Then, at 11180’ I followed a small drainage into the trees, and headed east to treeline.

Once at treeline my route was obvious. I just aimed for the drainage and followed it up. Note: This is the southeast face of Geneva Peak, and it’s pretty much all tundra. I could have just gone up the ridge and ended up in the same spot, or followed the curve of the drainage all of the way right and done Landslide first. Lots of choices here.

I chose to go up the drainage, straight to the small saddle between Geneva and Landslide. This was nice and steady on tundra: nothing unexpected.

Once at the saddle I turned left and headed towards Geneva Peak. There was still a lot of snow here, but it was firm and I didn’t need microspikes. I just followed the ridge northwest to the summit

The summit was covered in a cornice.

I walked a little further north to take my summit photos. I summited Geneva Peak at 7am

Geneva Peak:

Here’s a look at Geneva and Landslide from my picture spot.

Here are some other 13ers in the area:

I re-ascended Geneva, left a summit register on the cornice, and retraced my steps back to the Geneva/Landslide saddle.

This was a quick and simple hike, following the ridge east. The snow was avoidable if I were to dip down to the right, but at this time of day it was still firm and I didn’t even need microspikes to navigate.

There’s a bit of a false summit (if you could call it that) on the way

I summited Landslide Peak at 7:15am. I’m jumping for joy because this is the 250^th unique 13er in Colorado I’ve summited solo. Woot!

Landslide Peak:

Here’s looking back at Geneva

Since I didn’t want to drop back down into the basin and go through the marshy areas, I decided to hike the ridge south back to Webster Pass, then take the road back. Here’s the overall route along the ridge.

And some step-by-step pictures up and over this unranked point that is 13180’

This is easy class 2 up and over

Once at the top I made my way down to the 4WD dirt road.

At the road I turned right, and followed it west to Webster Pass. As you can see from this picture, even in June, Webster Pass is impassible due to snow.

Here I had a great view of how I ascended Geneva Peak

At Webster Pass you can follow the 4WD road back, making this a loop

Here you can see the road, on the other side of the Snake River, and the path it leads out

Once on the road, there were varying conditions, from dry, to muddy, and eventually to snow covered. The snow covered portions would have been difficult later in the day, but this early in the morning the snow was still (mostly) firm and I only postholed a couple of times

Just before making this a loop I came to a water crossing where Snake River meets 4WD road 285. It was about 18 inches deep. I took off my boots, rolled up my pants, and waded across, doing my best to avoid the stagnant area

Then I continued following 285 northwest, back to my truck

I made it back to my truck at 9:30am, making this a 9.84 mile hike with 2965’ of elevation gain in 4.5 hours.

Now, off to the airport to pick up one of my Girl Scouts: We’re off to California for the week for their Senior trip to learn how to surf. It’s our last trip before they all head off to college. Maybe I’ll be able to find some good hikes along the beach?

PT 13540 and PT 13403

RT Length: 8.95 miles

Elevation Gain: 4206’

CR 30 has had some work: the road was much nicer to drive than it was last year. No more potholes! At least the firsts 11 miles or so. The last 5 were still a little rough.

I parked near Cooper Creek and settled in for some dispersed camping. There was a storm rolling in I and I got to listen to the thunder roll as I ate dinner (Pho, which was awesome) and read a little. After a while campers set up across the way. I went over and talked with them: It was a father and son duo from Alabama, road-tripping because the son had just finished college. Very cool father/son time.

I made it an early night, sleeping until my alarm went off at 3am. I hit snooze and was on the trail by 4am. The route starts out following CR 30 west for about a third of a mile, then I left the road and followed the drainage/Rock Creek northwest.

The area where you leave the road is also the site of a recent avalanche: a house was destroyed, and there are pieces of the house, roof, furniture, shoes, etc. strewn about the area for about 100 yards.

I followed Rock Creek into the upper basin, staying to the left of the creek (but hugging the creek the entire way).

Once in the basin I followed it as it curved northwest.

There was a lot more snow here than I’d expected: I put on my microspikes and climbed into the upper basin.

Once in the upper basin there was even more snow. Microspikes were still ok at this time, but I knew I’d want to take a different route down, as the sun was going to warm up this snow quickly and there was no telling how deep I’d be postholing. I aimed for the ridge, and once on the ridge, followed it west to a kind of saddle

At the saddle I turned right and followed the ridge northeast to the summit of 13540.

There was a class 2 rocky section to navigate. I just went up and over this.

Here’s a look at the summit

I summited PT 13540 at 7am

PT 13540:

Here’s a look back down at the upper and lower basins.

My next objective was PT 13427

Here’s the route to get there

I turned and followed the ridge southeast. Here are some step by step pictures

The area in the above picture, circled in red, is pictured below. I skirted this to the right

Then followed the ridge, glad I’d put on my microspikes

Eventually I came to an area where I started losing elevation. The snow was largely avoidable by sticking to the left on the ridge. I was a little worried about that cornice in front of me however

I lost about 475’ of elevation to the saddle

Then started up the east slope. This area was covered in scree, and quite steep. I kept eyeing the cornice, trying to find the best way to ascend. While I had snowshoes, I didn’t have crampons, so my microspikes would have to do if it came down to it. Here’s the path I chose to take to the summit, looking for a stable but accessible part of the cornice to climb.

When I got to the cornice, I was able to kick in steps with just my microspikes, although, lacking in forward facing spikes, they needed a little creative help from my ice axe at times.

Towards the top I started postholing as the cornice leveled out, and had to slide on my belly the last few feet to make it to the tundra. Once over the cornice the summit was obvious, to the north

I summited PT 13427 at 8:30am

PT 13427:

Here’s a look back on PT 13540

It was still morning, but the snow was softening up quickly. I wanted to get back over that cornice asap. I turned and headed back towards the cornice

It was easy to find my entry/exit point, as I could still see the marks from where I army crawled a few minutes ago.

I did the same thing again, facing the mountain and using the steps I’d kicked in earlier. It was rapidly warming up: the tip of the cornice was now steadily reedripping water.

Here’s a look at the ridge back up towards PT 13540

I slid down the scree and followed the ridge back.

The snow was mostly avoidable until I made it to where the ridge kind of levels out for a while. From then on it was posthole city

I knew there was no way I wanted to re-enter those basins, so I decided to take the southeast ridge down. It parallels the basin, and while there was snow, a lot of it was avoidable. Where it wasn’t I was postholing. I had snowshoes, but was too stubborn to put them on. Here’s the overall route out

And step by step, first down the ridge

Then following Rock Creek back to CR 30

Here’s a picture looking up the ridge (in case you want to take the ridge up)

I came to the avalanche area, and it was then I realized a house had recently been destroyed (more on this in my next trip report on “C.T.” Peak).

I made it back to the road and followed it back to my truck

I made it back to my truck at 11:15am, making this an 8.95 mile hike with 4206’ of elevation gain in 7 hours, 15 minutes.

For reference, here’s a look at my route up to PT 13540 (solid line) and down (dotted line), as seen from the west ridge of “C.T” Peak.

It was still early: I’d initially intended to add “C.T” Peak on today as well, but didn’t want to re-enter the basin with the way the snow was warming up, so I switched my plans and was going to do that peak tomorrow. Instead, I got out a book my daughter just finished reading and was eager for me to read as well so we could discuss it together. I walked around Argentum, found some old structures hidden way up in the hills behind my campsite, relaxed, and sipped whiskey. Dinner was a block of white cheddar cheese and some bacon. I had new neighbors, so I welcomed them, and then made it an early night. It rained.

Santa Fe Peak – 13,180

RT Length: 9.36 miles

Elevation Gain: 2894’

I needed a quick hike today before picking my mom up from the airport, and since this one is kind of close to I70 and the weather was nice I decided to go for it. I kind of wanted to do this as a loop with a few other 13ers in the area, but any excuse to get out and get another hike in the same area is good enough for me (I’ll be back).

I’ve heard a lot about the town of Montezuma and its lack of parking. Yes, there is a lack of parking. So, my advice is to do this hike on a weekday, or arrive early (or both) to secure a legal parking spot. Please respect private property owners’ rights.

When driving through Montezuma, and turning down 3^rd street, on your right you’ll see this area, that looks inviting to park. DON’T PARK HERE! It’s private property. There are signs (covered in snow no doubt most of the time) asking you not to park in this area. I’ve circled one in red. Note, when you drive in, the sign is behind you, so it’s difficult to see. When I left the owner of the property was watching me from his window. It’s probably a game to him. So, don’t park here.

Instead, continue about 10 yards pasts this sign for 4WD road 264. (Also note, the black and white sign says ‘highway legal’ vehicles only.

Here you will find a small pull-off area where you can park. Only about 3-4 vehicles can park here if you all pull in nicely, so if you’re first, set the example. This is Public Land. From here on out, it goes back and forth between public and private land, and it can get confusing. The road also narrows and there are a lot of downed trees in the area, so it’s not really worth it to try to drive further. Especially in winter conditions (like today).

Just an FYI: There’s a house/structure around 10,800’. They plow the road themselves, but it’s still ‘iffy’ to drive to that point, and they currently have an unfriendly dog. I wouldn’t drive past the staging area, even if you feel you can.

After some careful maneuvering (my 4WD is still out and there were some deep ruts) I backed into a spot, gathered my gear, and was on my way at 5am. It was around 37 degrees outside, and the snow hadn’t consolidated overnight, so almost immediately I started post holing.

I’m stubborn, so it took me 1.5 miles to put on my snowshoes. I should have put them on right away. I followed 4WD road 264 for 3.7 miles to the saddle of Morgan Peak and Santa Fe Peak

Once at the saddle there was still a road, but it was difficult to discern with the snow, so I just headed southeast to the ridge

Here are some step by step pictures

Once on the ridge I could see Santa Fe Peak. I’d need to go right and follow the ridge southwest to reach the summit. The wind picked up here, and all that postholing I did earlier came back to haunt me: the snow I’d obtained in my socks from postholing had melted and now was freezing back into ice again: my socks and toes as a direct result were now frozen.

The ridge was easy to follow, and windblown.

There was one cornice, but it was easily avoidable, and made for a kind of ‘false summit’ (pic on the way back).

I summited Santa Fe Peak at 7:30am

Santa Fe Peak:

I didn’t see a summit register, so I left one. Here’s a look back on the other 13ers in the area. If it wasn’t so windy… if my socks and toes weren’t solid ice, and if I didn’t have to pick up my mom from the airport I’d be making this a loop, as the conditions looked perfect (sigh).

I turned and retraced my steps back over the cornice, along the ridge, to the saddle

It was interesting: I could see tire tracks, but due to downed trees on the road in, it’s probably been a while since vehicles have been up here

From the saddle I followed the 4WD road back to the trailhead, glad I’d decided to put my snowshoes on, as I came across my morning post-holing adventures

When I finally took the snowshoes off, I accidentally took a wrong turn, and ended up at the old Morgan Mine. I took a quick picture and re-traced my steps (probably private property so I didn’t investigate further than a quick photo).

When I made it to a bend in the road around 10,800’ I could see the residence/office (etc.) and immediately a dog rushed out and started barking at me. This is right where the Harold Roberts Tunnel is (short information on what that is and why it’s cool here).

I’d heard about this dog, and was a little bit apprehensive. However, I held my trekking pole in my right hand, and my Ruger in my left hand inside my coat pocket. I’d hate to actually hurt an animal, but if it attacked, I was ready. Luckily, this dog was all bark and no bite: It barked viciously, but never left his/her side of the road. I kept walking like I was supposed to be there, and nothing came of the encounter.

I continued following the road back to my truck.

I made it back to my truck at 9:30am, making this a 9.36 mile hike with 2894’ of elevation gain in 4.5 hours.

As I drove out, I stopped to get pictures of the trailhead, parking/no parking areas, etc. for a trip report. The owner of the house nearest the parking area stood in his window and watched me the entire time with a scowl on his face.

Cottonwood Peak A – 13,597

RT Length: 11.5 miles
Elevation Gain: 5110’

I got a bit of a later start on this one that I’d intended, as when my alarm went off at 12:30am I hit snooze and slept another hour or so (I’d already summited 7 peaks in the past 2 days and was a little tired). I made it to the Hot Springs Trailhead after first being led by GPS to the Hot Springs (which the sign indicated clothing optional: it was also closed due to Covid-19 fears).

The drive to the trailhead is easy 2WD on a dirt road.

There was 1 other vehicle parked there when I got there, which I thought was odd. It was a newer VW and didn’t look like it had been there overnight. I tried to be quiet in case someone was sleeping in their car but thought to myself “Great! Someone else is trenching the trail for me!”

The trail is a loop, and I was surprised to find out it was actually an established trail. The morning was getting better and better!

Just as an FYI, you cannot see the peak from the parking lot, but it was dark so that didn’t matter anyway. I signed the trail register (which was difficult due to the cold temperatures and ballpoint pen available). I wanted to summit Cottonwood Peak first, so I took the trail clockwise, starting to the left

The trail starts off wandering through chaparral

Here the trail was clearly marked and easy to follow.

I rustled a sleeping ptarmigan as the trail switched to scrub oak

Once I entered the aspens the trail started to deteriorate. What I’d been pleased to discover was a good trail became a trail in much need of maintenance. I was navigating over fallen trees for the rest of the hike, and it became increasingly obvious no one had used this trail since the Fall and no one would be trenching for me today.

Around 2.4 miles there was a great spot for a campsite (10130’)

What I found disturbing were the number of dead animals I encountered on this hike. There were deer remains everywhere (I’m pretty sure it was more than one deer, spread out over a few miles) and a lot of bird feathers. It let me know there was a predator in the area, I just wasn’t sure which kind?

I encountered the first real snow after about 2.6 miles. It was still early in the morning so I didn’t need traction, but I did posthole from time to time. Here the trail was difficult to see, as it was both covered in fallen trees/branches and snow.

Here things got interesting: I came across bear tracks! They looked like they were from the day before, and since there was only one set of prints I knew it wasn’t a mama, and that it was just passing through. I followed prints along the trail for about a mile

Since the trail was difficult to follow and the snow was getting softer I found myself straddling the ravine and following the small stream around the mountain

It became increasingly apparent I was the only one to use this trail in a long time. I circled around to a gully, which would have been challenging if there’d been more snow. Instead it was a steady climb up, and when I had the option, I took the gully to the right, also easy to navigate

The second gully ended near treeline, and I became excited as I thought I could see the peak.

Of course in my mind I knew I was too close to treeline for that to be the peak, but surely it had to be just behind it? As I continued on I saw another peak behind the first one and figured that was the summit

Up, up, and up I continued, doing my best to avoid the snowy areas.

Imagine my surprise (and dismay) when I finally reached the top of the second peak and noticed I wasn’t anywhere near the summit: it was still quite far away

Not only was I still a good distance from the summit, but I would need my ice axe and snowshoes. Luckily, I had both. I sighed, broke down, and put them on. There was no way I was turning back now. The weather was great (the best day I’ve had all year) and while I’d already done 30 miles this weekend with 15K of elevation gain and was physically exhausted, I wasn’t quitting this close to the summit. I left my trekking pole here and continued on, ice axe in hand. The only way across the ridge was to walk directly on top of the cornices. Luckily the snow here seemed firm

The last bit to the summit was easier than expected

I summited at 9:30am

Summit Views:

There was even a summit tag on top

This hike is traditionally done as a loop along with Unnamed 13123B, so I went over to get a good look at the route

Hmmmm…. The route didn’t look that difficult. Actually, the ridge looked better than the one I’d just traversed, but it was a really nice day and the snow was warming up fast. I knew I could summit 13123, but I was unsure of the snow conditions on the route back below treeline if I were to make this a loop. I didn’t want to re-summit Cottonwood because a) I’d already done 5000+ feet of elevation today and b) the snow was getting softer by the minute on this side as well.

In the end I decided to go with the safer route and descend the way I’d summited, figuring that while the conditions wouldn’t be ideal, at least I knew what to expect.
I turned and headed back the way I’d come, first over a pretty cool cornice

And then back down the ridge

My favorite part was toe-heeling it across the cornices

Here’s the route back

I decided to keep my snowshoes on, and this time stuck to the areas with snow.

The snow was a terrible mush and I was glad I’d decided to return the way I knew, even if it meant postholing and navigating felled trees

I kept my snowshoes on for longer than needed, but they came in helpful when I hit the boggy areas where there was no discernable trail but a lot of willows/snow/downed trees

They were cumbersome in areas such as this:

On the way back I scared the same ptarmigan as this morning and saw a cactus in bloom

I made it back to my truck at 12:30pm, making this an 11.5 mile hike with 5110’ of elevation gain in 7 hours, 15 minutes. The VW was gone.

I was really happy with my decision not to make this a loop today, and look forward to trying the trail counter-clockwise next time, when there’s less snow…

Tincup Peak – 13,345′

RT Length: 14.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 3590′

I absolutely needed to get above treeline today: the past few weeks has been a whirlwind cookie season, limiting my availability to hike, and the weather hasn’t been cooperating on the days I’ve had available so I’ve been highpointing instead closer to home. Also, today is a leap day and I’ve never had a leap day summit. So I did what I always do and checked the weather forecast for about 10 peaks and chose the one with the best forecast.

The road to St Elmo is mostly dirt and (thankfully) well plowed. A 2WD vehicle could easily have made it to the trailhead.

I arrived around 4:30am and drove through town looking for a parking space. No luck. The streets were plowed but because of the snow there was nowhere to park, so I ended up turning around (twice) and parking near the east end of town in a lot that looked reserved for trucks pulling trailers. I was the only vehicle in the lot when I arrived.

I gathered my gear and was on the road by 5am, turned and headed back to make sure I’d turned off the dome light in my truck, and started off again. Almost immediately a Bobcat ran across my path, doing it’s best to run away from me as fast as it could. I considered it a good omen. It was a bit eerie walking through a ghost town at night, and with all the snow you could tell which houses were occupied and which ones had residents who went somewhere else for the winter. Every building had a sercurity system flashing a red light every few seconds or so.

At the end of town I turned right onto 162E and then left after the bridge and followed the signs towards Tincup pass. It’s 6miles from here to the pass.

The road was nicely groomed and looked like it had a lot of snowmobile activity. I spent my time hiking fantasizing about the new truck set up I’m working on for Spring/Summer (same truck, new setup). Embarassingly I jumped a few times at noises in the night, just to realize it was the sound of an invisible (snow-covered) creek or a tree about ready to fall. My original intent was to leave the trail and summit Point 13,050 and traverse the ridge over to Tincup Peak, but it quickly became obvious that wasn’t going to happen today: the snow wasn’t going to cooperate. There were several sections where I could tell snowmobiles had gotten stuck in the snow and had to be pulled out after leaving the road to head north (the way towards 13,050). So instead I followed the road slightly southwest for 4 miles, until I came to a trail junction. I could also tell the weather wasn’t going to be as sunny/calm as originally forecasted. The winds were only supposed to be 5-10mph here today, yet I could tell by the sounds the trees were making the wind was much more intense. Several times I heard wind that scared me into thinking I was hearing an avalanche. Tons of fun!

I continued straight (northwest) and followed the trail until I made it out of the trees.

From here I followed orange poles to Tincup Pass. Here’s the basic route:

At about this time I couldn’t feel my toes/feet anymore, and it felt like I had two half-dollar sized rocks under the balls of my feet. I wasn’t cold, I was just having a Raynauds attack and decided to just keep pushing on: they usually only last about half an hour or so, and as long as I keep moving everything ends up fine. Here’s the last section up to Tincup Pass

It’s steeper than it looks but honestly short and not too bad. Tincup pass is located at 12,154′

I turned right (east) and headed up the side of Tincup Peak. Here’s the route I took, doing my best to avoid the areas covered in snow (after postholing too many times to count):

About a quart of the way up the wind picked up fiercely. I hadn’t put on a balaclava this morning because it hadn’t been windy when I’d started, and now the wind was so intense I couldn’t get it on (well, I might have been able to, if I took off my gloves). The winds were forecastd at 5mph, but there were several times when I had to turn my back to the wind and brace myself to remain standing. Not for the first time I told myself that when the forecast looks too good to be true, it probably is. I made it to the top and took a look around what I thought was the summit: there were cairns and a windbreak.

The wind was extremely intense here. I still couldn’t feel my feet but I wasn’t cold, and I knew taking off my gloves would be a terrible idea in all this wind, but my face was starting to hurt from the constant abrasion of the wind. I crouched down behind the windbreak and clumsily put on my balaclava wearing just my glove liners, and then hastily put my gloves back on. It was here I noticed I was not at the summit of Tincup Peak. The sumit was actually to the north about another half mile or so.

Ugh! It didn’t look like to difficult a trek, but that wind was insane! And I still couldn’t feel my feet. I did a mental calculation and decided I wanted to go for it, so I headed north. The wind only knocked me down twice. From the small saddle here’s looking back at the way I came

and at the peak before me (spoiler alert: another false summit)

The snow on the last part here was soft enough to twist an ankle, so I tried to stick to the rocks where possible.

At the top of this hill I was disappointed to find I still wasn’t at the true summit, but determined to press on: I was too close NOT to summit at this point. So I kept going.

This last little stretch was still windy, but luckily not technical in the least. I also had a great view of PT 13,050 and the connecting ridge that I filed away for next time. I was so glad I’d decided against taking that route up today!

I summited and tried to take a summit photo but the wind kept knocking the camera (and me) over. I was finally able to get one shot while bracing myself against the wind

It was a quick decision not to attempt Emma Burr Mountain today: That wind was just too much and I still couldn’t feel my feet (I was getting worried now). I told myself I’d be back to get PT 13,050 and Emma Burr together another time. Here’s looking at Emma Burr Mountain

Time to head back

Here’s the path back to Tincup Pass

It was easy to avoid the cornices

And straightforward to Tincup Pass

The wind didn’t die down until I was in the same place where it had started. I made it to Tincup Pass and decided to take a selfie (my son took one here a few years ago when he was here with his Boy Scout Troop and I wanted a similar one to show him).

Here’s the trek out of the basin. I was surprised I hadn’t see anyone all day, considering it was a Saturday. The basin was empty: There were tons of fresh snowmobile tracks, but they were all from yesterday.

The wind died down as I made it back into the trees, and I was finally able to feel where my feet were. There was about half an hour of intense pain as the blood started to flow again, but I kept walking, knowing stopping to take off my shoes (etc) was a terrible idea.

The 6 miles back to St Elmo seemed long, but as I was just walking on a groomed road not to terribly difficult. Snowmobiles started passing me at alarming speeds, and a few times I had to jump out of the way and into a snowbank to avoid getting run over.

St Elmo was beautiful with the snow, and just as wonderful as in the summertime, except of ourse the chipmunks were now hibernating.

I made it back to my truck at 12:30pm, making this a 14.5 mile hike with 3590′ of elevation gain in 7.5 hours. There were several trucks hauling snowmobiles when I got to the parking area, and it looked like there were a ton of people about to snowmobile into the basin. I counted dozens of snowmobiles and just as many people walking around the town. I totally needed my time above treeline today: I felt energetic and excited and not the least bit tired. Being in the mountains seems to rejuvenate me. Time to head home and pass out come more cookies!

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Twin Peaks A – 13,584

RT Length: 9 miles

Elevation Gain: 4625’

Any time your hike begins in the Piñon Pines and Junipers you know it’s going to be a long day. I arrived at the South Zapata Creek Trailhead after mistakenly being directed to a gated community a few miles away (Google Maps was taking me to South Zapata Creek, not South Zapata Creek Trailhead: I’d suggest putting in Zapata Falls as it will direct you to the campground and trailhead). No worries though, I was free all day and this only put me back about 15 minutes from schedule. The 4WD road to the correct trailhead was a little rough in the beginning with a lot of softball-bowling ball sized rocks, but after the first mile or so it smoothed out. I parked my truck just before the campground entrance and was on the trail at 6:30am.

I followed the trail that led to Zapata Falls for .85 miles

Just past a defunct trail register

And at this cairn left the trenched trail and turned right and headed up the hill.

From here on out I was ‘off trail’. At this point I should have put my snowshoes on, but I tend to be stubborn about such things and kept hiking in just my microspikes. My next objective was to gain the ridge to the south. This ridge was steep and I kept sliding backwards in the snow. Yep, snowshoes would have been a good idea. Here the snow was soft but I was only postholing about a foot at a time. To make things easier I did my best to follow recent game tracks. It looked like there were a lot of deer in the area.

From the top of this ridge I followed the drainage up to a small plateau. Once again, there were tons of deer tracks here and it looked like they’d bedded down in the area last night. I even saw a buck bounding away as I arrived.

I also got my first view of Twin Peaks A

The view was short lived however, as I dipped back into the trees again.

In the trees I came upon an unexpected cabin. It looked old but well kept up. I would have taken a closer look but the snow was really deep here. I broke down and put on my snowshoes.

From here on out the snow just kept getting thicker and stayed sugary. I kept heading southeast, this time through some thick aspen groves. Shout out to the deer/elk that helped me by breaking about 250 vertical feet of trail: I followed their tracks through the trees until they disappeared over the ridge.

This route mainly follows the ridge, but it takes forever to get to treeline. Well, it took me forever because I was trenching the entire time. This was the most challenging trench I’ve ever put together: the snow was deep, unconsolidated, and never ending. Several times the snow was so deep I couldn’t go forward and I had to get creative and zig-zag my route to make it possible to continue. This type of trenching is tiring!

I’d make it to what I thought would be the treeline, only to find more trees ahead of me. Here’s a look at the route from one such area

More trenching through the trees

And I came to an area so thick with snow it was untrenchable. I was exhausted and seriously considered turning back: where was treeline anyway?!?! Last week I’d had to turn back on Rinker Peak due to unconsolidated snow, and I really didn’t want to repeat the same scenario twice. I decided instead of continuing along the ridge to descend a little to the south to see if the terrain was any easier, and it was! I came across a rocky area and easily traversed a little below the ridge and then regained the ridge (to more snow)

I (finally!) exited treeline and had just a little bit more trenching to do before taking off my snowshoes and tackling the rest of the route in just microspikes. Up until this point I wasn’t sure I was going to complete this hike: all that trenching had worn me out and I thought I’d never make it to treeline. Several times I’d thought about turning back, but I’d put in so much work I didn’t want to give up. This clear view of the peak renewed my spirits and I was ready to go.

I could see the summit ahead of me and it was a nice day: warm with no wind. I thought taking off my snowshoes would be a good idea and could also save some valuable time. In the beginning, this was a good idea. I was able to quickly rock-hop up the ridge

After gaining the first bump however, things changed. The snow was no more consolidated here than it had been before treeline. In fact, the snow was 4-6 inches deep: a thin layer over rocky terrain. The snow never held my weight and I frequently postholed in areas where I could easily have twisted an ankle. I was cursing myself for taking off my snowshoes, and would have put them back on except the wind had now kicked up and I was afraid to take off my gloves because of the exposure. I was just going to have to be careful and rock-hop whenever possible.

I followed the ridge as closely as possible, but those cornices were weak. I kept postholing in the shallow snow and my feet were becoming frozen. I wasn’t giving up though: I could see the summit!

Here’s a look at Twin Peaks B (unranked) and Twin Peaks A. There was a lot more snow at the summit than I’d been able to see from below, those cornices are bigger than they look, and once again, hollow. I followed the ridge to the summit.

I took a few steps up the cornice to try and get as high as possible and heard a hollow sound below my foot. I quickly retreated: In no way was I going to climb to the top of the cornice.

I found the summit wind break, set up my camera on top of my backpack, got a (terrible) picture, and decided to book it back down. I wasn’t going to play with that cornice.

I had no desire to climb Twin Peaks B today as well: The cornices were hollow and I would need to go over one just to start, that wind was becoming insane, and I could no longer feel my feet.

Time to head back down the ridge

There were some great views along the way of Lindsey, Ellingwood Point, Blanca, and Little Bear

And also the Sand Dunes

Here’s the rest of the route down the ridge and back into treeline

And a look from treeline up the ridge

I stopped to put back on my snowshoes at treeline and headed back to the trees, carefully retracing my steps and making my tracks into a solid trench. This is more tiring than it sounds.

I followed the ridge and in a small clearing between hills saw what looked like a reverse shadow far ahead of me. Anyone know what this is?

I made my way back to the cabin

And decided to keep my snowshoes on for the rest of the trek back to the trailhead. Here’s the way down the ravine

And down the ridge

Back to the Zapata trail

It had been a long day, and it was starting to get dark. I’d originally wanted to visit Zapata Falls while I was here, but looking at the time I wouldn’t make it there until after dark. I’ll just have to come back when I’m here later this season. The trail was easy to follow from here

Back to the trailhead.

I watched an absolutely stunning sunset as I broke down my gear and got ready to head home.

I made it back to my truck at 5:30pm, making this a 9 mile hike with 4625’ of elevation gain in 11 hours. This was by far the most tiring day I’ve had trenching ever, but totally worth it!

Mount Guyot – 13,370

RT Length: 8 miles

Elevation Gain 3115’

Time: 5.5 hours

As seems to always be the case, my plans changed last minute. The weather’s been so cold and windy lately I’ve been highpointing closer to home, sticking mainly to 9K and 10K peaks with less snow and warmer temperatures. I’m helping someone learn how to route find, but he has a minor heel injury. Instead of hiking today closer to home he wanted to rest it for next week. So I did a quick search and the best forecast I could find for a peak on my list showed 0-6 degree low/high temperature with 30mph gustss at the summit. This would put wind chill in the negative 20s. I debated back and forth and finally just decided to go for it: I could always turn back, but there would be trenching involved, so at least I’d get in a good workout.

I’d wanted to be on the trail by 5:30am but I drove to the wrong trailhead. Actually, Google didn’t take me to a trailhead at all, and when I checked my map realized I was about a quarter mile away but needed to drive for a bit to make it to the correct place. No worries though, because it was still dark outside and snowing, and I was hoping the snow would let up before I started.

When I made it to the French Gulch Trailhead it was still snowing, and a balmy 9 degrees outside. The road to the trailhead was plowed and packed down. I decided against putting on my snowshoes right away and attached them to my pack instead. I did put on my microspikes.

At 6:15am I started to the left of the trailhead sign, following the 4WD road past the closed gate.

It was snowing lightly and I could see the full moon through the clouds. It was a cool, quiet morning. I followed the road until I came to the turnoff for Little French Gulch. Here I turned left and donned my snowshoes: I was going to need them!

While the road had been pretty packed down the previous trench on the Little French Gulch trail had been filled with several inches of fresh snow. In most areas I could tell where the trail went, but the entire time I had to re-trench the trail. I tried to see how deep the snow here was by probing it with my trekking pole, but the pole went all the way down and never hit dirt, so I’m guessing there was at least 5 feet of snow on the ground.

Last night, while looking at a topo map, I’d planned to leave the trail and head straight up the ridge just after the Little French Gulch turnoff. I realized this morning there was no way that was going to happen: the snow was deeper here than it looks, and the first step I took I sank up to my waist in snow while wearing my snowshoes. Nope.

So instead I followed the trail to just below treeline, where I turned right (west) and headed up to the ridge, switchbacking as I went. (Side note: I took many of these pictures on my way back down. The snow was sugary and often times I’d trench up to my waist and my camera would get covered in snow. It was so cold I was unable to get the snow off the lens, so the pictures are a little blurry).

To avoid any avalanche danger I tried to stick to the trees, close to the ski area

It stopped snowing just as I made it to the ridge. I turned left (south) and followed the ridge. Here the snow was rather deep and sugary, and the wind picked up dramatically.

Once on the ridge the summit was obscured with clouds. Here the snow ranged from bare ground to several feet deep. I kept on my snowshoes.

Instead of going over the bump I skirted it to the left (it’s a false summit that would be more obvious without the clouds)

There were several snow covered ‘trails’. I chose one of the higher ones.

Looking back down the ridge

And at the rest of the route to the summit

While the snow had stopped and the clouds had lifted, snow was being blown from Bard Peak, turning into clouds, and blowing over Mount Guyot.

The wind was intense and I couldn’t see very far ahead of me due to ice crystals in the air. I considered turning back several times more than I’d like to admit, but I wasn’t beyond cold (yet) and I decided to keep going. My toes still felt fine, and my fingers were holding up. The ridge to the summit was mostly windswept, with a few areas of deep snow. I kept my snowshoes on because I didn’t have the dexterity in my fingers to take them off, and I knew if I did I wouldn’t be able to put them back on again. This meant my final push to the summit ridge was slow, as I was basically carefully rock-hopping in snowshoes, trying not to twist an ankle. Cold doesn’t begin to describe the weather: I thought to myself how I was glad I was solo today: everyone else I know would have turned back, and if I were with someone I would have had to turn back as well (with my Raynaud’s I have to keep moving and not take breaks, especially in the cold/wind). I went straight up the ridge, sticking to the snow when possible to avoid the rocks.

At the top of the ridge I turned left (east) and carefully made my way to the summit

This area was fraught with cornices. In my snowshoes I tried to stick to the area of snow closest to the rocks, walking on the rocks when necessary to avoid the cornices. It was cloudy when I made it to the summit, and I was cold. Frigid even. I kept pumping my fingers back and forth. I could feel the ice on my face, in my eyelashes, and on my hair. Yes, frigid was a good way to describe the weather. I had sunglasses and ski goggles but couldn’t put them on because I had no dexterity in my fingers and told myself the sun wasn’t that bright anyway. In no way was I risking taking off my gloves to get a photo of myself and I wanted out of this weather as soon as possible so I tried to take a selfie with my camera by just turning it around. For some reason, I got a video instead (still not sure how this happens: I should spend more time learning how to use my camera)

Summit Video:

I was finally able to get a picture (with my gloves in the way). I wasn’t about to try and get another photo.

There weren’t great summit views today.

I turned and headed back across the ridge. Check out those cornices!

Looking down the ridge

Most of my tracks were gone on my way back down.

I didn’t think it was possible, but the wind picked up even more on the way back down the ridge. 30mph winds seemed a low estimate for what I was experiencing now. Brrrr!

I was so excited when I made it back to treeline and out of the wind! Well, excited until I found the wind had covered most of my tracks and I had to re-trench them on the way back down. The snow was soft and I frequently postholed up to my waist, causing me to twist and turn to get up, covering my snowshoes, clothes, etc. (and camera) with snow in the process.

After a few dozen yards the trail was once again easy to follow back down to the gulch

I’d honestly thought it would warm up when I made it back below treeline, but it didn’t. I’m kind of digging the frosted eyelash look…

I continued on the trail and came across some backcountry skiers with their dog. They thanked me for trenching the trail, and did a great job of smoothing it down with their skis. I wished them luck, thanked them for smoothing my tracks down, and was on my way. They gave me an odd look: I smiled back, but I’m sure I looked a mess!

Back on the road I kept my snowshoes on just because I didn’t want to take off my gloves. It was still so cold out! There were now several cars in the parking area

I made it back to my truck at 11:45am, making this an 8 mile hike with 3115 feet of elevation gain in 5 hours, 30 minutes.

I was really glad I’d decided to hike above treeline today. I’d been a little put off due to the forecast, and I’d had to seriously push myself during the hike, but it had been worth the experience. It reminded me again when I have the option to go hiking or not, the answer is to at least give it a try.

When I made it back to my truck I took off my snowshoes and hopped into the cab and turned on the heater to warm up. The temperature outside read 12 degrees. Slowly, I re-warmed my hands and once my fingers were moving normally again I took off my shoes, socks, and outer jackets/layers. I was happy to see my toes looked ‘normal’! The ice in my hair was the worst: it dripped onto my neck/shoulders as it gradually warmed and melted. I put on sandals and started my drive home. About 10 minutes later my foot started throbbing. I pulled over and drat! My toes were blue! I turned over my foot and the entire pad was blue as well. So much for “operation no blue toes” this year. I was so frustrated! They’d seemed fine when I got back to my truck, why were they hurting and blue now? After about 30 minutes they were back to ‘normal’ again, going from blue to a waxy red and eventually back to white. No permanent damage, just a Raynaud’s attack (they only last about 30 minutes or so, and can happen in any weather, just most likely when cold). One way to prevent them is to stop hiking in the winter, and that’s not going to happen, so I’m going to have to learn to live with the attacks or suck it up and take the medication (I’m not a fan of drugs, so this isn’t likely to happen either). At least they’re not affected while I’m hiking.

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

RT Length: 10.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 3357’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From this marker I turned left and headed towards the trees

Looks like someone lost a snowmobile…

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

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

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

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

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

View from Mesa:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baldy no es Cinco” summit video:

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

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

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

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

The summit was icy rocks

I summited at 10am

View from Baldy Cinco:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relive: