Tag: helmet

P3 – 13,279 and P2 – 13,288

RT Length:  6.61 miles

Elevation Gain: 2539’

Edited to add:

I came back a month later and was successful in summiting P2.  Details below.

Full disclosure, I did NOT summit P2.  However, I came very close, and thought I’d share the information I have for those who might find it useful. 

I camped at 11330’ of elevation, along the Rock Lake Trail that parallels Rock Creek in the basin just before Rock Lake. 

The next morning I was on the trail at 6:30am, heading west.  My goal was to gain this ridge, and I did it poorly.  I spent way too much time route finding, so I’m going to try to make this easier for you.  You need to ascend this ridge, but DO NOT do it here.  There is a way to find a weakness and ascend here, which I did, but I was greeted with the steepest, worst scree I’ve ever encountered, where if I’d have fallen, I would have skidded all the way down, over the edge.  It was dangerous, and put me at a too high position and I needed to descend anyway. 

Instead, start out by crossing Rock Creek (I was able to jump across it) and head for the rocky section.

Parallel the rocky section until you come to just before the waterfall.  Then turn left, and head up the scree to what looks like a solid rock wall.  There is a very well-hidden access gully here, that will easily get you where you want to go. 

Climb up this easy gully, and immediately turn right, and head towards a drainage.

When I made it to the drainage, I followed it west as far as it went, until I was on a small ridge parallelling a pond.  There are a few game trails here that will lead you up.  Stay in the drainage, which goes from rocky to grassy as it ascends.

I came to a ridge and turned left.  Here I could see a rocky basin.  I followed the basin southwest, left, until it ended.

From here you can see two gullies.  One leads to P3, the other to P2.  I went up the gully to the left, and came down the gully to the right.  Both are loose and scree filled.  The P2 gully had larger rocks, which would have made it better (for me) to ascend, and the P3 gully had more scree, which would have made it better (for me) to descend.  Alas, I ascended the P3 gully, and descended the P2 gully.

Here are some pictures of the P3 gully.  I ascended on scree, sticking close to the rock band, and headed towards the ridge.

Once on the ridge I turned left, and followed it northeast.  While it looks daunting, this was all class 2 on stable rock, and not so stable rock. 

Until I got to here.  If you haven’t already, now is your time to put on your helmet.  From here the rest of the route is exposed class 3 and class 4 climbing.  I chose to stick to the ridge.  Luckily, the rock here is solid and there are plenty of hand and footholds.

I stuck to the ridge here, so I won’t include direction lines, but I’ll show you a few pictures of this part of the ridge, which I considered class 3

Until I got to here.  I felt this was class 4, and the crux of P3.  This is the route I took, sticking a bit to the left as I felt there were more holds, but I can see how someone with a higher risk tolerance would have gone straight up the middle.

I could now see the summit of P3.  This is the route I took.

I summited P3 at 9:45am

P3:

From the summit of P3, I made my way back to the ridge.

Back on the ridge, I followed it to the P3/P2 saddle

From the saddle, I headed up on talus and scree, following the ridge towards P2, but avoiding the large rock structures to the right.

I then came to a sloping section, with a false summit.  I made my way towards the false summit

From the false summit, I could see the true summit of P2 in the distance.

I followed the ridge, and this is what I saw in front of me

The climbing wasn’t what bothered me here.  It was that long, yellow rock slab.  I’d heard it was maybe 40 feet, but being there in person, it looked double that.  I downclimbed a bit to get a better view, and the view didn’t get any better. Pictures DO NOT do this slab and it’s exposure justice.

At this point I had to make a very difficult decision.  I do a lot of crazy stuff while hiking solo, but it’s always within my abilities, and I try not to take unnecessary risks.  This rock slab was an unnecessary risk, and that’s coming from someone who’s favorite 14er is Capitol because of the knife’s edge.  I did not feel safe downclimbing this slab solo, or even with another person present, although I would have tried it going from the opposite direction if I didn’t need to downclimb it again.  I had about a 75% certainty if I attempted to downclimb this slab, I would fall.  And the exposure wasn’t pretty.

One of the reasons my husband encourages me to hike solo is he knows I don’t take unnecessary risks in the backcountry, and I want to come home safe to him.  I also want to be a Grandma someday, and I can’t do that if I die. 

I knew there was another way to summit by dropping down to the left, so I got out my cell phone and checked the weather.  The 10% chance of rain after 12pm had now become 80% chance of thunderstorms.  I wouldn’t have the time needed to route find my way to the summit of this peak and make it back to my tent in time before the storm came in.

So, I turned around at the final crux to the summit and headed back down.  I did a lot of scouting around while I was up there and know how I want to attempt this peak next time (I’m thinking of dropping down to avoid the edge or coming in from a different angle).  I’ll be back to summit this peak another way.

So, I turned around and headed back towards the P3/P2 saddle.

Just before the saddle I turned left, and took the P2 gully down into the rocky basin.

I then followed the basin back to the drainage, staying mostly to the right of the basin.

When I came to the drainage, I turned right followed it, staying to the left of the pond, back to the ledge, following game trails where I could find them.

Just before making it to the waterfall I headed right, found my access gully, and headed down.

I descended the rocks, then headed back to my campsite.

I made it back to my campsite at 1:30pm, making this a 6.61 mile hike with 2539’ of elevation gain and tons of route finding in 7 hours.

Oh, and that storm?  It dumped about 4 inches of slush, rain, snow, and hail on top of my tent in about 2 hours.  So now, I had another difficult decision to make:  Stay there overnight and wake up at 5am to a tent frozen solid, pack it up, and hike out, or just hike back to Beartown now.  For those of you who know me (and my Raynaud’s), you know what I did.  I packed it up and headed back to Beartown, hiking in the dark to make it back to my truck in time for my work meeting in the morning. It was NOT a fun hike out, as the trails were now covered in slush (I slipped a few times in the granite rock sections) but I stayed (relatively) warm.

From the saddle of P3 and P2, I followed the ridgeline to 13190’, where you can see the false summit. From below the false summit, I went left (east) and found a gully.  I descended this gully, but not all the way.  Instead, I stayed high and traversed these rock outcroppings.  This route is basically class 3 and choose your own adventure.  I stayed high so as not to have to re-gain elevation, and this worked for me.  Here are pictures of the route I took:

See this rock formation here?  While it’s difficult to see from this angle, I’m nicknaming him “El Diablo”, because to me he looks like a lot of things, but also closely resembled my High School Mascot, the Diablo.  Yes, my high school mascot is the devil.  For middle school we were the Banditos (imagine Yosemite Sam as a Mexican, complete with the mustache and beard, bullet harnesses and a gun in each hand).  Alas, after I went there the parents got upset and changed things and now they’re the “Leopards”.  The parents keep trying to change the Diablo mascot as well, but the students won’t let them.  In any event, I digress.  I went to the right of El Diablo on my way in and used him as a spotting point on my way out.  After passing El Diablo I could see a large gully to the right.  I stayed high on class 3 terrain and climbed the gully, which brought me to the base of the rock slab.

From there, I turned left, and it’s a class 3 climb to the summit.  I tried a lot of different routes that others said ‘went’, but I found climbing straight up the face was the easiest way to summit and stayed at easy class 3.  Climbing straight up the face is easier than it looks, with lots of ledges.  From there I was on a small ridge, and it was 10 feet or so of walking northeast to the summit. Here’s the overall route:

And my summit Photo:

P2:

Here are some pictures of the route back:

And the TOPO for P2

On to the next trailhead!

Little Horn Peak – 13,143 and Fluted Peak – 13,576

RT Length:  12.35 miles

Elevation Gain: 5504’

I parked at the Horn Creek Trailhead, the only vehicle in the lot.  I’m always surprised at how few people take advantage of the free dispersed camping sites we have in Colorado, especially ones like this with a bathroom.  Eager to summit and get back to treeline before the incoming storm, I gathered my gear and was on the trail at 4:30am.  The trail starts by following the Rainbow Trail southwest for just over half a mile

Then I turned right onto Horn Creek Trail

I followed Horn Creek Trail for a short distance, about a tenth of a mile, before turning left at the junction towards Horn Creek Lakes.  Here there’s a register, that looks to be kept up.

I stayed on this trail for half a mile, before leaving the trail at 9590’ and heading north and then west up the ridge.  There is no trail here.  I left a small cairn to indicate where I left the trail, but I don’t expect it to be there long, as it was small.

Route finding here can be a bit tricky, but the goal is to gain the ridge.  I did this by heading west, through the pine and aspen trees.  Every once in a while, I’d come across a game trail.  They all fizzled out however.  This area is easy to navigate, as there aren’t too many downed trees.  I was able to avoid most of them.

Once I was on the ridge, I followed it southwest to treeline.  This is a long ridge, and it seemed to take forever to make it to treeline.  Here’s my first glimpse of Little Horn Peak

Like I said, this is a long ridge

The class 3 fun starts at the top of the ridge, which is a false summit.  From here you can see Little Horn Peak’s true summit

My trekking pole isn’t collapsible, so I left it at the start of the class 3 section, put on my helmet, and started heading straight over the ridge.  The class 3 section is consistent for another half mile to the summit. 

Start out by going straight over the ridge.  There is some exposure here. 

Then you’ll dip down to the right.  Look for a notch, go through it, and now you’re on the left side of the ridge. 

Go up the gully and cross back over to the right side of the ridge

There’s a section of rock to upclimb.  This was difficult class 3 / easy class 4 (and much more difficult and committing on the way back down later in the day).  

From the top of this section I could see the summit.  I stayed on the left side of the ridge from this point on, staying on class 2 terrain.

I summited Little Horn Peak at 7:45am

Little Horn Peak: 

That was it for the class 3 section of the hike.  The ridge over to Fluted Peak is class 2 (with the option to go up a class 3 chimney, but it’s avoidable).  Here’s Fluted Peak to the west.

This was a simple ridge hike to the saddle.  You can’t see them very well in this photo, but there was a mama bighorn sheep with her baby walking up the ridge.  The baby couldn’t have been more than a month old.

From the saddle, here’s how you keep this a class 2 hike (dotted lines show the class 3 route)

Here’s the first obstacle (class 2 solid, class 3 dotted):

And the second (class 2 solid, class 3 chimney dotted):

Here’s that chimney up close

After the chimney, it’s straightforward class 2 to the top of the ridge to the first false summit. 

Fluted Peak is actually here

There are two quick false summits to go up and over

And then the final summit

I summited Fluted Peak at 9am

Fluted Peak: 

The clouds were coming in fast, so I decided to re-trace my steps and head back to Little Horn Peak (I’ve already summited Horn Peak, so there was no need to make this a loop today).  I headed back to the ridge

Here’s a picture of Little Horn Peak from the Fluted Peak Ridge

It all stayed class 2 until I made it to the summit of Little Horn Peak

From there It was class 3 again until I made it to the ridge.

Here’s a closer look at that notch

And the last bit of scrambling to the ridge

I made it to the ridge and looked around for my trekking pole.  It wasn’t where I’d left it.  Instead, it was about 15 feet away, at the entrance to a marmot burrow. I picked it up and found some marmot had turned it into a snack.  Just adding more photographic evidence to prove the case “Marmots can’t be trusted with trekking poles”.

I sighed, took off my helmet, and headed back down the ridge (yes, I brought the trekking pole down). 

Once back at treeline I turned back for a last view as it started raining. 

The rain quickly turned to hail and I had to put my camera away. Here are some pictures of below treeline, in-between bouts of rain/hail. I just kept descending northeast, and when the ridge ended I continued east towards Horn Creek Trail.  Once again, I’d pick up game trails and then lose them.   A little advice:  you should be able to hear Horn Creek flowing below you to your right if you’re going in the correct direction.

Back on the trail I followed it to the trailhead.

I made it back to the trailhead at 1pm, making this a 12.35 mile hike with 5504’ of elevation gain in 8.5 hours.  That had been a fun day of scrambling!

I dried off and headed to the next trailhead.  When I got there it was still raining, so I decided to make dinner inside the topper of my truck.  I finished, cleaned up, and was sitting down to write notes in my journal when I heard a loud “BANG!” 

I looked up, and the back window to my topper crumpled and broke into thousands of pieces.  I honestly thought I’d been shot at, and turned around but didn’t see a bullet hole anywhere.  Next, I gingerly opened the window, crawled out of the truck and took a look around:  no one in sight (but it was still raining). 

I assessed the damage, and realized I needed to take care of this asap, so I put on gloves and cleaned up all the broken glass I could, still getting some small slivers of glass embedded in my fingers.  Next, I drove to where I could get cell reception, and found the nearest place that would be open the next day to fix the broken glass was 5 minutes from my home, and 6 hours from where I was right now.  I sighed:  It looked like I had a long night ahead of me. 

It turned out the auto glass store couldn’t help me, and told me to go to where I’d originally bought the topper.  They couldn’t help me for another 4-6 weeks (and $600), but referred me to another glass shop that didn’t open until Monday.  So, a quick trip to Walmart to pick up some duct tape and a tarp and I was able to create a makeshift door that does nothing to keep animals/intruders out, but has done a decent job keeping out the rain.  I’m still not sure why the window broke:  I was told sometimes there’s just a flaw in the glass.  That sounds bogus, but I’m getting a new one soon anyway, and I’ve learned not to get windows in my next topper (I don’t use them anyway).  I’m actually more upset I lost out on two days of hiking.