While hiking Castle Rock yesterday I saw this sign at the
base of the trail, indicating if you hiked the trail 4 times you’d have hiked
the equivalent of a 14er.
So much is wrong with this photo!Who’s idea was this, and how did it make it
this far?Flat 14ers?What?My
MBA is screaming“False advertising!”
In what way does this involve climbing?
I get someone out there is trying to encourage people to
exercise, and that’s great, but a sign like this is an outright lie.It’s giving people a false sense of achievement.I’ve hiked 14ers, and they are in no way equivalent
to walking around a park 5 times.In distance
yes.Technically distance wise they’re
the same.Comparing climbing a 14er to
walking on a flat trail in a circle?No.That’s like comparing someone who’s walked in
a straight line for an hour or climbing stairs for an hour. Or someone watching
a doctor give an operation and saying you’ve performed one.Comparing someone who’s flown a plane from
Los Angeles to Miami to someone who’s done it on a simulator.Can the person who used the simulator seriously
say they’ve flown?That it’s the same
thing?Yes, they went through the same
motions, but they aren’t the same!
This sign doesn’t take into account all the factors in
addition to distance that go into climbing a 14er.Things like elevation gain, the effects of
altitude, exposure, danger, route finding, fatigue, weight of necessary gear, obstacles
on the trail, etc.
This sign needs to be changed to:You CAN hike the distance.
I was alone today at work after 11:30am. I looked out the window, and noticed that while it was supposed to be cold and raining, the clouds had not yet moved in to the point where they were causing a problem. In fact, it actually looked a bit warm outside.
So I decided to hike Castle Rock. I’ve worked just outside the trail for over 5 years and I haven’t once hiked the rock. This is a shame, and something I intended to correct.
I’d done my research a while ago, and already knew the trail difficulty, directions, etc. The city page labeled it a difficult 1.4 mile loop, and strongly encouraged only fit hikers to attempt the trail.
So I drove to the trailhead and decided to take my lunch break hiking the rock. It was only 1.5 miles, so I should have plenty of time.
The trail was really well marked. Some of it even looked like a service road. It was all uphill to the top (obviously), but it was in no way a “hard” trail. So I ran.
The base of the rock looks pretty cool…
From the top I had a pretty good view of the entire front range, but it was really windy and the clouds were coming in for an afternoon storm, so the pictures aren’t too clear. Pikes Peak is in the middle/left of the photo below.
On the way down I took another part of the loop, and encountered a lot of railroad tie type stairs. I ran down those too.
At the bottom I noticed some of the trees were beginning to bloom, so I tried to get a cool shot of the rock. This was the best I could get.
As soon as I got to my truck is started snowing pretty hard, so I’d made the hike just in time.
Final thoughts: This trail was NOT difficult. It was really, really easy. So easy I ran. I was back at work less than half an hour after I’d left, including travel time and picture time. The rock is only 6224 feet, not that much of an achievement. But I climbed to the top, which was my goal, so I considered it a win!
I had no intention of hiking Pikes Peak again this year. I’ve already hiked it 10 times, and my last hike was my best one (I hope your last one is your best one). But a couple of days ago my mom told me Granny loved wildflowers, and we should plant some in her honor. I just happened to have about ¼ a pound of Rocky Mountain Wildflower seeds sitting around at home. These were nowhere near enough to scatter and make a huge difference on a roadway, but they were perfect for lining a portion of the trail along Pikes Peak. The best time to disperse seeds is either October or April, and since there is no way I’m hiking Pikes Peak in April under several feet of snow I decided to go this week.
The weather Friday looked perfect! All forecasts indicated it would be in the 80s in Colorado Springs and 42 at the summit. That’s GREAT weather! Especially for the end of October. There was also a picture I’ve always wanted to take but for some reason spaced out on the past two times I’ve summited, so I planned a Friday hike.
Up at 2 am I started the coffee and got a spoonful of peanut butter as a snack. I ended up finishing the coffee on the way buy only had about half the spoonful of peanut butter. I just wasn’t hungry.
I made it in good time to the trailhead but there were 4 cop cars and a fire truck at the entrance to the parking lot. Nothing seemed to be going on (no accident/bystanders/victims) so I was a bit intrigued. One of the cops moved his cruiser and waived me on. There were 2 other cars in the parking lot. It was a nice 53 degrees. I saw a hatchback enter the parking lot as I began my hike at 2:58am.
Today I was in no hurry to summit. That doesn’t mean I hiked slow, but I wasn’t pushing myself as I was still sore from the hike earlier this week. I saw no one the entire hike up the mountain. I didn’t trip once (something that often happens in the dark because of all the loose rocks and roots). I didn’t see any animals except a rather large rabbit. I did hear what sounded like a large bird flapping in a tree but didn’t see anything when I shined my flashlight in its direction. When you hike at night eventually you get pretty good at identifying creatures in the dark by the sounds they make. I could tell it was a bird (not an owl because I wouldn’t have heard an owl) and its size by the sound it made. I can also tell if it’s a rabbit or a raccoon even before seeing the animal as different sized animals make different sounds.
There was no one visible at Barr Camp as I passed it in the dark. No tents set up on the outskirts of the camp either. The cars must have belonged to someone staying at the A-frame.
I made it to the A-frame at 6:19am. It was still dark. No one was about but the tarp was in place so I assumed someone was sleeping in the A-frame. I passed and walked about 100 yards before waking the kids up for school (I call them to make sure they’re awake. They usually are…).
As I reached treeline I could immediately tell I wasn’t going to get the picture I’d wanted to get. It required a good sunrise and despite the fact it was supposed to be 80 degrees and clear there were lots and lots of clouds on the horizon. I wasn’t going to see a sun this sunrise. It was still beautiful:
I now had 3 miles to go to reach the summit and seriously considered turning back. I had no real reason to summit as this was a last minute trip and I wasn’t going to get what I wanted out of the rest of the uphill part of this hike (picture). I went back and forth for a few minutes in my mind and eventually decided to keep at it. Hey, maybe those clouds would miraculously go away in the next hour? While it was highly unlikely I kept hoping and watching east.
Here’s where my mood turned sour. I was sore and tired from the hike earlier this week, and while I’d made fantastic time this far it was obvious I was slowing down. I don’t know why that depressed me but it did. I could tell I was hiking “slow”. I was upset I wasn’t going to get that picture. That meant I’d need to at least TRY to hike again this year, and because of the type of picture it is I’m going to have to get up at 2am and hike for 10 miles in the dark to get it. Despite what I’m sure you’re all thinking, I don’t actually enjoy hiking in the dark alone. It’s quite scary. I’m not a fan of the dark. I don’t get the mail after dark or go on night walks by myself. I’ve been known to run from room to room when the lights are off. Hiking in the dark isn’t something in my comfort zone: I just do it despite being afraid because I like the end result.
I’d ben hiking with my good camera instead of my hand held. It was heavy, cumbersome, and now unnecessary. In addition, I hadn’t seen any wildlife on this hike. My 11th hike on Pikes Peak and I’ve yet to see a bear. That was upsetting in itself. The lack of the sunrise I’d anticipated meant I was going to have to hike in the dark again, risking the cold weather, shadows, and my fears.
This type of thinking on my part wasn’t typical and I became cognizant it must be due to low blood sugar. I hadn’t eaten anything yet and I’d hiked about 12 miles at this point. My stomach began to tighten. I told myself food was just going to have to wait until I reached the summit because I wasn’t making good time.
Check out the ice coming out of the mountain. Ah, geology at work, even without snow.
I summited at 7:54am. Not my best time, but not bad. I was hiking about 15 minutes behind my usual pace. Much to my surprise there was a man in a bright blue winter coat standing in front of the old summit house with his back to me. He was probably in his mid 20s, hunching out of the wind putting his pack together. I said hello and sat in the shelter of the window next to him to block the wind (as the summit house still wasn’t open).
I assumed he’d come up the back way from the Crags (a mere 6 miles and starting at about 10,000 feet, so it’s a much easier route to summit Pikes Peak). Eager to get started again he asked me if it’d been windy on my ascent. I told him no, it just started getting windy as I reached the summit. He told me to “enjoy my time” (mountaineering talk for the time spent on the summit before hiking back down), and was on his way, presumably the same way he came because he didn’t take the Barr Trail down. I
wished I’d engaged him in more information about his trip. He obviously knew what he was doing. I found myself wanting to know more details. Not for romantic reasons but personal: Which route was he hiking? What other hikes are available to me, how long do they take to hike, and are they worth it? He only had on a daypack, so he wasn’t backpacking… oh well.
I’d worn 2 pairs of gloves after reaching treeline, but took one pair off to eat. I had about 12 pieces of dried mango and my fingers were quickly turning numb. The wind was picking up and it was getting COLD quick. I put on my extra pair of gloves, took a picture facing southwest of the Junkins Fire, and started hiking down. I’d only spent 5 minutes at the summit.
This is where the wind became intense. Forecasts stated 20-25mph wind gusts, but these were sustained winds of at least 40mph. I was blown sideways several times. The wind made it miserably cold, and to top off my bad mood my right shoelace became untiled about 20 yards into my decent. Great. I had no use of my fingers at this point because they were frozen solid. I made a pathetic attempt that took way too long to tie the laces. I did a miserable job but it would be functional for a bit (hopefully I’d de-thaw soon and try again). About 100 yards later they became untied once more. I decided I wasn’t going to get far with this and just tucked the laces into my shoe so at least I wasn’t going to trip on them. This lack of support was going to slow me down.
My mind once again took a negative turn. I pulsed my fingers to keep them from getting frostbite (I have Raynauds) and thought about the hike this time. Why had it been so negative? I was upset about so many things I couldn’t control. I hadn’t seen any wildlife besides that rabbit. Not a bear, deer, marmot, pika, bird, or bighorn sheep. Nothing. What bad luck was this???
I knew my bad mood was self-caused but I couldn’t stop it. I’d thought it was due to low blood sugar levels, and indeed, eating did help quite a bit until the wind picked up, then the negativity returned. I’ve never regretted a hike up Pikes Peak. I may not have wanted to start out, but I’ve always been happy I went.
But this darn wind wasn’t letting up! Although my hair was in a bun it was hitting me in the face, as was the strap on my pack. The strap actually hurt. And I was cold.
The wind didn’t stop until I made it past the A-frame, where it abruptly ceased and warmed up at least 20 degrees. Wow. That mountain is brutal! I didn’t stop at the A-frame as I could see its inhabitants waking up and starting their day, preparing their hike to the summit.
As I dethawed I began seeing people. All asked me what it was like on the summit, to which I replied “very windy, and very cold”. They looked confused (forecasts predicted 42 degrees and light wind) but thanked me for the information. My mood brightened as I warmed up. I just needed to change my focus. No, I didn’t get the picture I’d wanted, but hadn’t I started this hike for Granny? Wasn’t scattering seeds for her the real reason I was taking this trip? Not to summit or see wild animals.
Ok. That was it. From here on out this hike was going to be about Granny and I was going to think positive. I took some “better” pictures of the downed trees along the trail. This is seriously insane and goes on for miles!
Just after MM6.5 I heard the sound of running water and my mind immediately cleared. I don’t know what it is about running water that has such a calming effect, but as I heard it I took a deep breath and smiled. This is why I hike.
Some of the trees were even happy to see me…
My mind cleared and I mentally planned where I’d scatter the seeds. I know enough about wildflowers to know they don’t grow just anywhere. Yes, I could have scattered seeds on the peak but it wouldn’t have done any good: they wouldn’t grow there because the growing season is too short. You can’t just plant seeds and expect them to grow. I needed seeds indigenous to the area not only so they would sprout, but also so they wouldn’t become an invasive species. The seeds I chose were specific to regions of the Rocky Mountains between 6000-9000 feet. In other words, they should grow here without harming the environment, and hopefully will contribute some happiness to hikers. Personally, I know I love seeing wildflowers while on a trail.
With that in mind I decided to spread some seeds near the aspen grove at Barr Camp where there was already a bench for weary hikers to sit and enjoy the view of the peak. These wildflowers will probably grow here. I hope they do, but because I wasn’t 100% certain they’d take I only planted a few tablespoons and saved the rest for another area. I also re-tied my shoe. While I was doing so I noticed someone sleeping in a sleeping bag about 40 feet from the trail. Stay warm my friend!
This is the area (below) I picked to scatter wildflower seeds in Granny’s name. I chose it for several reasons. Between MM3-3.5 is a well traveled area of the Barr Trail. I know wildflowers grow here because I’ve seen them in the past. There’s a lot more grass than flowers, but the potential for wildflowers is great. I’d like to see more grow here.
The hillside is facing the sun and has a great
view:
I plan on hiking back next year (probably in
July) to see if they take. I’ll know if they do because I only scattered
them on one side of the trail and I know what grew here before (mainly brown
eyed Susan’s, wild roses, vetch, and columbine).
The last 3 miles of the trail seemed really
slow. I was tired and sore but my mood was elevated, and while there were
a lot of unexpected clouds the weather was warm but not too hot. It
certainly didn’t feel like 80 degrees, but the clouds blocking the direct sun
probably contributed to the good weather. Did I mention it’s October in
Colorado? The mountain mahogany seeds were fun to watch!
I saw this guy too. This interestingly
enough is apparently a popular landmark on the Barr Trail. I’ve never
seen it until today, but last week someone on the trail asked me how far they
were from him and I couldn’t answer because I knew nothing about it.
I made it back to my truck at 12:27pm. 9
hours 29 minutes. Not my best time, but honestly not bad!
When I got home Emily
and I planted more wildflower seeds in front of our house and on the side by
the maple tree. We hope to get a lot of flowers, and bring them inside to
enjoy them during the summer. We’ll be reminded of Granny every year! (Side
note, we still plan to scatter more seeds on a grander scale, but wanted to do
something immediately while we had the chance).
Mountain Mahogany
Mountain Mahogany, Cercocarpus ledifolius, or curl-leaf
Mountain Mahogany, is not a true mahogany.
This shrubby, slow-growing tree belongs in the Rosaceae, or rose family;
the common name derives from the dense, heavy wood of this tree, which sinks in
water; additionally, the leaves tend to curl. The scientific name for the genus
is Greek and means “tailed fruit.”
The flower consists of a small tan tube from which protrudes
a long, plumelike style covered in luxuriant tan hairs. The flowers are
arranged inflorescenses of up to 3. The fruit is a hairy achene one
half to just over one centimeter (0.2-0.4 inches) long. This plant grows on low
mountains and slopes.
It has a great many medicinal uses for various Native
American groups. I captured this image
on MM2 of the Barr Trail, descending from Pikes Peak.
The alarm sounded at 2am, but this time I was ready for it! I jumped out of bed, looked out my window, and was excited to see the forecast for today matched what I saw outside: a perfect view of Pikes Peak! And, a little oddly, a half-moon (the forecast called for no moon at night… whoops!)
I turned on the coffee, made a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich (only because last time I hiked without eating first I ended up regretting it later: I wasn’t hungry. I took two bites this time and threw the rest away). I got dressed and ready to go.
I don’t live close to the trailhead, so while I left at 2:20pm I arrived at 2:50pm. There were 3 other cars in the parking lot, and one was a couple getting ready to hike. As I paid the parking fee (still $10! Woot!) and talked to them a bit. If I pass someone on the trail I always try to strike up a conversation (for safety reasons…) This was their 2nd 14ner and first time up Pikes Peak. I wished them luck. They started as I put the parking receipt on my dashboard. I began at 2:55am but quickly caught up to them taking selfies in front of the lights of Manitou Springs. I advised them the lights would get better between MM2-3, and since this was their first time on the trail to stay left if they got lost in the dark. I then gladly forged ahead. I’m not a fan of leap-frogging fellow hikers.
The night was clear and calm, brisk but not too cold: Perfect for hiking at night! Every once in a while I’d hear what sounded like coyotes in the distance, and I could smell a fire coming from somewhere each time a breeze rolled in. The half-moon was directly above me, and I could see shooting stars as I hiked (meteor shower tonight! I couldn’t have planned that any better).
The coyote sound kept on, but I could tell it wasn’t coyotes. It sounded like yapping, and came at intervals. I deduced there must be hikers up ahead.
At MM3 my deductions were confirmed. There were two women in their 20s hiking ahead of me (car number 2). Although they’d obviously set out at an early time they were in no hurry, chatting and giggling, having a great time together. They commented that I was booking it up the mountain, and for some reason I replied “I hike this trail quite a bit, so I’m always trying to improve my time”.
While indeed this is my 10th summit of Pikes Peak, I hadn’t set out to “beat my time”. I’m not sure why I said this, but once I’d said it I felt I should follow through. My mouth has a way of running away from me at times, and the only way to rein it in is to do what I said I was going to do.
I wished them luck and forged ahead, this time at an accelerated pace, figuring my mom would be happy I wasn’t alone on the mountain (I’d seen 3 women and one man so far, so if anything happened I knew someone would eventually catch up to help).
There weren’t any scary sounds tonight or shadows lurking in the dark, but at MM5 I suddenly came upon a rather large tree in my path. This hadn’t been there the other times I’d hiked, and was a bit of surprise, but I figured trees must fall all the time in the forest and didn’t think too much of it.
I passed Barr Camp in silence. There weren’t any campers on the outskirts, and I figured the last car I’d seen in the parking lot meant someone was sleeping at the A-frame. Over the next 3 miles I crossed about a dozen felled trees and got to thinking: I’d heard 94mph winds had hit Pikes Peak last week. They must have done some damage on the lower elevations as well!
I was making really good time but wasn’t checking the time. I kept my phone in my pocket and just trudged ahead, mentally calculating what time the sun was supposed to come up this time of year and comparing my time/position on the trail to previous hikes. I figured I was about 20 minutes ahead of my best time.
Someone was obviously staying at the A-frame because the tarp/curtains were closed, (car # 3… yes, I like to know who’s on the mountain with me so I keep track as best I can) so I took my first sip of water of the hike, put on my ski gloves over my cotton ones as my fingers were getting cold, and kept going. I wanted to see the sunrise from further up the peak this time. It took quite a while for the sun to rise (40 minutes or so from first light, about mile 10.5 up the trail), and before it did I saw a really cool night-horizon-rainbow (is there a scientific word for this?)
About 2 miles from the summit the sun finally rose. Yes it was amazing. No, my selfies were not.
From treeline until I summited I kept looking for hikers below me. For some reason it became a personal challenge to summit before anyone else made it past treeline. This was an irrational challenge with no scientific basis, but I succeeded and considered it a win! At 7:43am I summited Pikes Peak. That’s 4 hours 48 minutes, and pretty awesome! The summit house was closed, so I sat in the corner of the building, huddled out of the really intense wind for a few minutes.
I’d wanted to buy the new “Pikes Peak Book” only available at the summit (funding the new summit house that was under construction), but there’s no set time for the summit house to open, and while I could see they were beginning to make the donuts inside I was slowly becoming a popsicle, so I decided to take a selfie proving I was there and head down the mountain. I’ll buy the book next time.
It felt like I’d been up there for 5 minutes, but when I checked my phone it indicated it’s been 25 minutes. Time seriously has a way of getting ahead of you on the summit!
It was really, really windy. I tried to put my hair back into a bun but with my Raynaud’s my fingers were useless. I’m pretty sure I looked like a banshee, but didn’t intend to take anymore selfies so it was all good.
I actually saw someone about a mile down the mountain. He looked really fit and was wearing an overnight backpack. I surmised he’d stayed at the A-frame, talked with him a bit to find out this was the case, then wished him luck. His 5 buddies were about 100 feet behind them. They all looked to be in tremendous shape but extremely tired.
I went another mile and a half before seeing anyone else: it was the couple I’d seen in the beginning of the hike. They’d made pretty good time! They only had about an hour to go. I gave them some advice on the 16 Golden Stairs and the false summit, then trudged on.
I had the A-frame to myself so I had a quick snack. I was finally defrosting so I took off my ski gloves and just kept on my cotton mittens. I took a picture of the A-frame and the ingenious way the inhabitants the night before had moved rocks to keep the heat in. This was something I’ve never been strong enough to do, and seriously hope future inhabitants keep in place, as it’s simple genius if you’re strong enough to move the rocks! We’d previously used out backpacks.
I could hear the two women I’d passed earlier on in the hike chatting, so I took a “secret” route around to avoid them (sorry, I’m not one for small talk if I can avoid it), and trudged on.
It was here in the daylight I realized what an impact the previous week’s wind had caused: the damage was insane! Felled trees everywhere for miles! Granted, they were mostly Aspens whose time had come, but the trail was also littered with large pine trees 4 feet or more in diameter. I moved what I could out of the trail as others had obviously done before me (I could see this in the light of day), and hoped the caretakers at Barr Camp took advantage of all this free firewood. Fast, before a forest fire took care of it for them.
I usually stop at Barr Camp to use the restroom, but I’d made such good time so far and I wasn’t in need of using the facilities so I just kept going. I did stop really quick to compare the view from last month and today (almost a month apart to the day…)
I made it down the mountain and back to my car at 12:03pm. I’d summited Pikes Peak and hiked back down again, 26 miles and over 16,000 feet in elevation change, in 9 hours 2 minutes. To qualify for the Pikes Peak Marathon you need to be able to do it in 10 hours. I felt like a rockstar!
This time when we made it to the parking lot at the base of the trail it was halfway full. Apparently there were a lot of hikers this weekend!
Even though I’d asked them to go before we left the house, one of the girls needed to use the restroom before we started. I’m not a fan of trail restrooms, and encouraged her to wait a bit because it was probably dirty, but she insisted. So while I paid for parking she used the restroom. When she got back she said it was pretty clean, but there was a homeless person sleeping outside. Facepalm.
We started the trail at 3:06am. There was no moon to guide us, so we got a great view of Manitou and Colorado Springs as we hiked.
The girls made pretty good time. We made it to MM2 at 3:59am, which meant they were hiking a little over 2mph.
Around MM4 it got really, really cold. I’m not sure why (I’m guessing it’s due to a shift in topography) but MM4-6.5 of Barr Trail are always really, really cold. It felt like the temperature dropped at least 20 degrees. I’m guessing it was in the high 20s. It got so cold my hands started to swell and I lost feeling in my fingers. Luckily there was no wind, but I honestly felt colder than I had a few weeks ago when it was snowing. I put on my gloves, but that didn’t really help. I kept encouraging the sun to rise over and over again, knowing that’s what I needed to warm up.
We made it to Barr Camp at 6:05 (still hiking about 2mph), and about 15 minutes later the sun began to rise and we began to thaw out. The colors on the mountain in the morning are absolutely amazing! There is so much light it’s really hard to get a clear picture, but that didn’t stop me from trying:
I was really surprised at how much red was in the light this morning
Added to the red was the changing yellow of the aspens.
We made it to A-frame at 7:35am. The A-frame was occupied by an older man and his adult children. They’d hiked Pikes Peak 18 years ago and were back to hike it again. It looked like they were set up to camp all weekend.
We also learned there was a special hike today: The Pikes Peak Challenge.
The Pikes Peak Challenge is the Brain Injury
Alliance of Colorado’s flagship fundraising event.
Participants have the opportunity to raise funds by climbing Pikes Peak. We were told there were about 400 participants, but not to worry because we were hours ahead of them. Also, this wasn’t a race, they’d just be hiking.
After A-frame we saw challenge volunteers at each of the three remaining mile markers. They were all really nice and supportive, even though we weren’t participating in the event.
I tried to take a selfie with 3 marmots…
The girls were getting pretty tired when we had about 1.5 miles left to go. They were doing great, but lacking a bit in motivation. We made it to the cirque and some volunteers gave them dum-dum lollipops and they were excited once again!
We took a bit of a break at the 16 Golden Stairs. Volunteers from El Paso County Search and Rescue were there, preparing to assess Challenge hikers. We talked for a bit, and they encouraged me to sign up to join EPCSAR. It’s honestly something I’ve been thinking about, but not something I’ll have time for until Emily graduates High School.
On we trekked. This is where my “motivating” the girls kicks in the hardest. Lots of life lessons are learned at this point in the hike. It’s a fine line between encouraging them and making them hate me for making them continue. They told me later I did a great job…lol!
We made it to the summit at 9:59am! That’s just under 7 hours, and a great time for the girls!
They were exhausted, and opted to sit for a while before taking pictures. I asked them if they’d ever done anything harder in their lives, to which Julianna replied (and Lakin agreed): “The only thing harder I can think of is cookie sales”. Spoken like a true Girl Scout! They would know, they take cookie sales seriously! They’ve each sold thousands for years in a row, and know what hard work it can be.
I was proud of them, and told them they could take an extended break. A summit spider joined us for donuts…
It’s really hard to breathe at 14,000+ feet: Your body is working overtime just to breathe, and time can get distorted. When I told the girls we needed to get going because it’d already been 45 minutes they didn’t believe me. They swore it had only been 5-10 minutes. I had to show them the time to convince them!
We took a few summit pictures and began our descent.
Here is where the hike got really fun! The girls were super proud of their accomplishment, and wanted to encourage the Challenge hikers on their way up the mountain. We high-fived ever hiker we saw on the way down, and the girls would shout out words of encouragement: “You got this!" "Trust me, I’ve been in your shoes, just think positively!" "With a positive attitude there’s nothing you can’t do!”
Those girls are amazing! The other hikers thanked them for their enthusiasm, which was much needed at this point in their hike.
When we made it back to the 16 Golden Stairs we were offered more candy. This time I took a Werther’s (an indulgence I haven’t had since I was 12). Instant memories came flooding back. It totally made my day!
About a mile above treeline we had a hiker point and tell us: “See that man in the red jacket? That’s Robert Downey Jr." I was intrigued, but didn’t much believe him. That didn’t stop me from catching up to the man in the red jacket to find out for myself. Unfortunately, it didn’t look much like him: His hair was the right color, but he was a bit overweight and sported full facial hair so I couldn’t much tell if it was him or not.
We said "hello” as we passed him and kept hiking down, enthusiastically high-fiving everyone along the way.
Back at A-frame the man and his kids were still there. It didn’t look like they planned on hiking at all today. Quite a shame for other hikers hoping to snag the A-frame for themselves tonight. There were a lot of hikers around the A-frame, filtering water and milling about before tackling the hardest part of the hike.
We only rested there for about 15 minutes, then once again started hiking down. The girls were practically running at this point (it is MUCH easier to hike down than up). We saw many more hikers there to complete the challenge, all hiking up the mountain. We never saw anyone else hiking down.
We stopped at Barr Camp for another 15 minutes to use the restroom and for a snack. The girls were still all smiles!
For the rest of the hike down the girls kept up a fast pace. They still high-fived everyone they passed, but we didn’t see many more challenge hikers. In fact, the only ones we saw were those returning down the mountain because they weren’t able to summit.
When asked we told hikers we’d hiked all the way to the summit and were on our way down. Everyone was impressed, and one (very fit) woman remarked: “Wow! You all made it? Those girls are more hardcore than I’ll ever be!" The girls took that as quite the compliment!
We made it back down to the parking lot at 3:40pm, and once again the restroom was needed. This time however it was flooded.
Today I decided to hike the Western part of Mueller State Park from the Grouse Mountain Trailhead down to Geer Pond and back in sort of a loop. Total trail was 5.52 miles and took exactly 2 hours to hike. I started the hike at 11:15am without a jacket. I was a bit cold, but it looked like it would eventually warm up. It did, but it took about half an hour. It never got “hot”.
The beginning of the hike brought me to a very small (one room?) cabin. It was most obviously dilapidated and overgrown with pine trees sprouting from the floor. I questioned its odd placement and what it was used for, as it wasn’t near any obvious necessities (a road, water, etc.) and was located in the middle of a hill.
Just as I rounded the corner from the structure I came upon some burn piles. I thought how cool it was Mueller was doing some thinning, then realized the piles were over the boundary of Mueller. That got me to wondering who owned the land…
At this point in the hike I started noticing a lot of markings on the trees. Specifically the Aspen trees. Most look like they’re from deer or elk, but a few showed similarities to Black Bear markings.
By now it was finally starting to warm up a bit. I was able to see the backside of Pikes Peak in the distance with a little bit of snow on the peak:
At this point I came upon some bike riders. I heard them before I saw them, and was a bit upset as I was sure they were scaring all the wildlife away. Why can’t people hike in silence and enjoy the sounds of nature?
As I rounded the corner I heard what sounded like a weed-wacker. I was pondering why someone would think such a device was necessary in the backcountry when I realized it was an insect. A very loud insect. I’ve heard clappers before, but this was ridiculous! I could see it flying about 10 yards away. It looked yellow in color, but I wasn’t able to get a better look at it to see what kind of an insect it actually was. It wasn’t a moth or butterfly.
The halfway point of my hike brought me to Geer Pond. This is by far my favorite pond at Mueller. I’ve spent countless hours fishing here, and love the solitude. No one was here today but I didn’t have time to stop and enjoy the pond (my kids were waiting for me back at the campsite). I took a quick picture and started my (uphill) trek back.
Mueller is a great place to hike, but unfortunately it sits at the top of a hill, so you inevitably start hiking downhill and end your hike going back up. Fortunately I would rather hike uphill, as my body is conditioned for an uphill hike.
I passed a drainage area and those bikers again. They were confused as to how I’d passed them, and I replied I’d taken a loop. I ended up passing them a third time later in my hike, to which they seemed embarrassed: “Usually the bikers pass the hikers” they noted. I smiled, talked to them a bit about reading the trial maps at Mueller, and kept hiking. They never caught back up with me.
I hadn’t seen any wildlife on this hike (except that loud insect), so I was happy to see a rabbit in the middle of the trail. It wasn’t happy to see me and bounded behind a tree. I watched it and was delighted to see a cluster of (edible) Sheathed Woodtuft mushrooms.
That was the extent of my hike. As always I was glad I’d taken the hike, but a bit disappointed I hadn’t seen more wildlife. I ended up getting quite a sunburn as well, which was totally unexpected since I’d hiked the entire time with goosebumps, wishing I’d brought along a jacket.
This was a last minute trip.
It wasn’t until about 10pm the night before I realized hiking the 26
miles up and down Pikes Peak would even be a possibility. When I discovered I had some time in my
schedule I immediately went online to check the weather forecast. As usual, each forecast was different, but
they all agreed there would be storms and possibly snow in the afternoon. One even predicted thunderstorms starting at
10am, but most stated there would be “fall like weather”.
I’ve missed several opportunities to hike the mountain this
summer because I listened to weather forecasts that turned out to be false, or
materialized later in the afternoon than forecasted (meaning I’d have already
hiked and been home before the storms started).
I asked Rebecca her opinion and she said yes I should go! She also said she’d look for me if I didn’t
come back tomorrow night. And by ‘look
for me’ she meant drive to the trailhead and yell. So I packed up my gear, prepped coffee just
in case, and decided to “decide” in the morning.
My alarm went off at 2am and I looked out my front window to
evaluate Pikes Peak and my chances for a successful hike. I couldn’t see the light from the summit
house, or, more importantly, Pikes Peak at all; It was covered in low lying
clouds.
So I went outside. It
felt warm (low 60s). I went back and
forth in my head on whether or not to attempt the hike for about 5 minutes
(seriously, which is a long time for someone who usually makes quick
decisions). In the end I decided to
go: I could always turn back if the
weather got difficult, and I’ve never regretted taking a hike when I didn’t
feel like hiking. I made sure I had my
ski gloves and set out on my way with the rest of the gear I’d packed the night
before.
I didn’t get to the trailhead until after 3am. There were only 2 cars in the parking
lot. The dashboard of the car read 63
degrees outside. I figured the cars
belonged to backpackers at Barr Camp, paid my $10 parking fee, and started
hiking at 3:12am.
I usually check the time as we hit different landmarks/mile
markers, but never actually write them down.
I’ve got a pretty good idea of how long each segment should take, but this
time I wanted to keep close track of my progress.
I love hiking Pikes Peak.
I’m super appreciative of hiking buddies and I’m glad to hike with
anyone who’d like to hike with me (quick caveat: they must be in good health, have no heart or
lung problems, and WANT to hike the peak), but I find when I hike with others
we take a lot of unnecessary and sometimes lengthy breaks. These breaks are probably necessary for them,
but I’ve always wondered how quickly I could hike the peak if I only stopped
when I was tired. So this time I was
keeping a trail log on my phone.
I started hiking to the sound of crickets. The first three miles of the hike are the
most difficult and require you to ‘power’ through them. The redeeming factor to this stretch of the
trail are the city lights. You can see
Manitou and Colorado Springs glowing in the distance. I’ve tried dozens of times to get a good
picture, but have come to the realization the only way to enjoy the view is to
actually be there.
Strangely I wasn’t able to see the summit house light. It’s a very bright light I can usually see
from my house, and I’ve always seen while hiking the peak in the morning. I’d thought I’d have been able to see it
through the clouds, but I couldn’t. I
hit MM1 at 3:31am, MM2 at 3:53am, and MM3 at 4:14am. I’d hiked the first 3 miles in 61 minutes and
had taken several stops for pictures (none of which came out really well). That’s great time! These are the hardest miles of the hike, so I
consider hiking 3mph basically climbing up stairs a win!
At this point I began noticing the sound of crickets had
silenced. In fact, I couldn’t hear any
bugs or the sound of the creek I knew I was paralleling. I made a mental memo of it and kept hiking.
Side note:
headlamps are NOT useful when you hear a noise in the woods. Your head automatically turns towards the
sound, but you have to swivel it side to side to look for creatures (or beady
eyes). A flashlight is much better
suited for this purpose.
Around MM4 I saw a large reflective rectangle in the
distance and was intrigued. I wasn’t sure
exactly what it was until I was right upon it, when I realized it was a sign
noting miles to the top. This is not a
permanent fixture, and was probably put there for the race this past weekend. I saw them every mile to the top, and
seriously hope the person responsible for putting them there ensures they are
properly disposed of.
MM4 came at 4:36am, MM5 at 4:57am, and MM6 at 5:21am. Even though the trail was evening out and
getting easier to hike I was gradually hiking a bit slower. Totally ok, but funny to note.
All along the hike I kept waiting for the sun to rise and for
it to get lighter outside but it just wasn’t happening. I thought to myself I was glad I’d hiked this
trail many times before. It’s a very well-marked
trail, but in the dark with just a headlamp it’s easy to lose the trail when you
come upon a bare section not lined with some sort of foliage. I kept thinking “I could see how someone
could get lost here, and here, and here”.
I was also noting the lack of animal noises. Usually I hear a lot of rustling and chirping
from birds, run into spider or caterpillar webs, and hear small creatures
scurrying in the dark. I saw two rabbits
quietly sitting on the trail before me at different points, but that was
all. No other sounds.
Well, I did hear a bear once, or what I thought was a
bear. It startled me in the quiet. I didn’t stop, but kept on hiking. You see, I was actually really, really scared
to be hiking out there by myself. I wasn’t
afraid of anyone attacking me: there
were only two cars in the parking lot, and honestly, anyone who’d made it this
far out didn’t have the intention of hurting someone at 5 in the morning. They’d be sleeping. No one was crazy enough to be hiking in the
dark (ha-ha) so it wasn’t likely someone was ‘lying in wait’ for someone like
me to hike along.
No, I wasn’t worried about another human being, or even a
bear, but possibly a Mountain Lion. I
kept noting how unusually quiet it was, and figured I’d be able to hear just
about anything except a predator (meaning a Mountain Lion, as those would be
the only predators in this part of the forest).
I mentally prepared myself to use my hiking stick to defend myself and ‘go
for the eyes’ if attacked.
So I scanned my headlamp left and right as I hiked, looking
for eyes in the shadows. When I heard
the growl I was seriously scared. It
made me jump a bit, but I didn’t see anything.
I thought it had to be a bear, as it was a rather loud noise and a
Mountain Lion would have just attacked from behind. It happened again and you’ll
probably never believe me, but I realized it was my stomach! Honestly!
I didn’t feel hungry at all (my core was aching right about now), and in
fact I couldn’t actually feel my stomach.
The second time I heard the growl my tummy moved at the same time, and I
audibly noted the hilarity of the situation and sighed in relief. I kept
hiking.
Usually by MM3 or MM4 it’s fully light outside, but I passed MM6
and Barr Camp at 5:23am to an eerie darkness.
Apparently there aren’t any lights at Barr Camp, something I’d never had
the opportunity to notice until now. Through
my headlamp I saw the railings and porch swing by the river indicating the entrance
to the camp, but opted not to stop because it just felt wrong. The fog around the campsite added to my
unease. Everyone was obviously still
sleeping, and I felt like an intruder.
Just after reaching Barr Camp a very light snow began
falling. I could see it through my
headlamp. It was more of a light mist of
snow, but snow just the same. I reached
the yellow ‘summit sign’ that lets you choose between the Bottomless Pit and
Pikes Peak at 5:46am, and it wasn’t until 6:01am when I was able to turn off my
headlamp.
A realization hit me:
I had just hiked for 9 miles. In the dark.
Through the forest.
By myself. Scared.
There was no moon to guide me, as it was lost in the cloud cover
above. I’d survived one of the scariest
things I’ve ever done, and was seriously proud of myself for sticking to it and
continuing to hike in the dark! Rock on
sister! Let’s do this!
I reached the A-Frame at 6:22am and took my first ‘rest’ of
the hike. Kind of. You see, I call my kids to wake them up in
the mornings for school between 6:20 and 6:25am, so now seemed like the perfect
time. Yes, I had cell service (I have it
at just about every point on the trail, even at the summit, although I can’t
usually post to facebook or Instagram while on the trail). I called Emily, wished her a wonderful day,
and took a look around. The tarp was
pulled closed over the A-frame, and when I peeked through the gap in the
curtains I thought I saw a jacket hanging from the window, so I quietly turned
around and started hiking again.
There were a couple of squirrels chattering, so I took a
video (I say chipmunk in the video, but knew they were squirrels: It wasn’t worth a second video).
Before reaching the trail I saw two bucks! They stood there and let me get a picture.
It was then I realized the squirrels weren’t chattering at
me, but at the deer:
I’d turned off my headlamp about 20 minutes ago, but it was
now that the sun actually began to rise. There is no way to describe or take a
photo of the sunrise from Barr Trail to do it justice, but here are a few
attempts:
It was about now the snow began falling harder, the wind
began to pick up and the temperature began to drop. I was now hiking into the clouds.
I switched my cotton gloves for my ski gloves and trekked
on. I reached the ‘2 miles to the summit’
sign at 7:05am, and the Cirque (about a mile from the summit) at 7:32am. I was above treeline, and still hiking at
about 2 mph! That’s entirely amazing, as
it often times takes an hour to go a mile on this part of the trek.
I was now hiking in snow, and saw prints I’d never seen
before. They were really small rodent
footprints, bigger than a mouse but much smaller than a marmot. Then I saw one! I’d never seen one before, but I was pretty
sure this was a Pika and the owner of the paw prints. I
tried to get my camera out for a picture, but by this time my fingers were
frozen and I wasn’t quick enough: The
Pika ran away before I could get a picture of him, so I took a picture of his
prints.
I kept the camera in my hand, and kept looking for another
Pika for a ‘Pika-ture’ (yes, I actually said this out loud).
That last mile was grueling only because it was so cold and
the wind whipped the ice and snow into my face.
It wasn’t bad enough to take refuge or turn around, but it was seriously
annoying. I saw this cairn about 50 feet
from the summit and thought it looked cool.
I still had the camera in my hand so I snapped a quick photo.
I reached the summit of Pikes Peak at 8:05am. It had taken me 5 hours and 7 minutes to
reach the top! That was absolutely
amazing! I was hiking at an average
speed of over 2.5mph: UPHILL! I knew
from reading Backpacker Magazine the
average hiking speed of any trek usually sits around 2mph, so I considered this
a serious win!
I reached the summit at the exact same time a cog pulled
up. Several workers jumped out of the
cog as it stopped, dressed in working overalls, shovels in their hands. They quickly began clearing the walkway.
The men were exceedingly nice, and asked about my hike up
and if I’d seen any animals? We
discussed what I’d seen and the animals they’d seen on their way up (mainly
deer as well). I (sadly) noticed the
Summit House was closed, so I asked one of the men shoveling when it would
open. He didn’t know. “Maybe in half an hour, maybe not at all
today because of the snow”.
Great. I was quickly turning
into a popsicle and decided to just head back down immediately. This ended up being a very wise choice.
I waved goodbye to the men shoveling, and as soon as I began
hiking back down they jumped back into the cog and were on their way back down
themselves. It was cold.
I mean VERY COLD. The wind didn’t
help. I was guessing it was about 20
degrees before wind chill. Hiking kept
me warm; stopping froze my sweat and my muscles.
About 50 yards into the descent I saw another Pika, and
luckily still had my camera in my hand.
Here’s what they look like: Bigger than a mouse, but smaller than a
chinchilla.
I didn’t see any hikers until I was just about at the
A-frame, and surmised by the color of the jacket the man was wearing he was the
one who’d spent the night. I tried to
warn him of the rapidly deteriorating conditions after treeline, but he didn’t
seem to think I was serious. When I
reached the A-frame again the tarp was pulled back and no one was inside, so I
was pretty sure he was in fact the overnight occupant.
Between the A-frame and Barr Camp I saw about 10 other
hikers and stopped to talk with them all.
They all wanted to know about the conditions ahead, as they couldn’t see
the mountain from that point of the trail.
Once again I told them it was snowing, cold, the wind was howling, and
it just kept getting worse. I advised
them all to head back, but every single one of them “had a ticket back down on
the train” and needed to be there to catch a ride back down. I told them all the summit house might not
open, so if they were relying on it for warmth/shelter be advised it might not
be there. The cog might also not be
operating. They continued their hike
anyway, one of them in shorts and a t-shirt.
He told me it was a “good thing he’d brought a jacket”. I did a face palm and told myself I’d warned
them. I honestly don’t believe any of
them made it up to the top. It did
indeed get much worse as the day kept on, and they were at least 4 hours behind
my summit when I saw them (they had 4 hours at best until they reached the
summit). When I told my kids this after
arriving home they said it was probably because I don’t look like a “hiker” and
that I make hiking look easy. I’m
guessing they probably thought if I could do it so could they. Hmmmm…. I digress.
I was back at Barr Camp at 10:28am and saw my last set of
hikers: 6 women in their early 60s, very
fit, with a LOT of makeup on (maybe it was permanent?). They seemed to listen to me, and while they
continued ahead, verbally made a pact to turn around if at any time one of them
didn’t feel safe. They also regretted
not beginning their hike at 4am like they’d originally intended. High five to them for keeping their options
open!
I was back at my car at 12:18pm. I’d hiked 26 miles in 9 hours 6 minutes, and
felt absolutely amazing! I didn’t take
any breaks besides 3 minutes to call my kids and what was probably 3 minutes at
the summit, and it was at this point I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day
either. I’d brought a lot of snacks, but
hadn’t opened any of them. All I’d had
to eat today had been the coffee I’d sipped on the way to the trail. Now I was starving, and ready to eat. But first I needed to head to work for a few
hours, pick up Thomas from school, search for a gyroscope, pick up Emily from
softball…
We started at the trailhead at 12:40pm, intending to take a 4.75 mile loop hike to visit the two remaining ponds at Mueller State Park I’d yet to visit: Cahill and Rule Creek Ponds. As you can see from the photo of the route we took above, we got a little off tack, but only for about 1/3 of a mile. The trails at Mueller are wonderfully market with numbers. Unfortunately the post for the switch off said Trail 17 went left and right. Since we were looking for 34 we were confused (until we came to 32 and noticed our mistake). The positive part of this blunder was I got an extra 2/3 of a mile in (making it over a 5 mile hike), and the way back was all uphill! Woot!
I don’t know much about the history of Mueller except it was Homesteaded in 1870, then passed through several families (cattle ranchers) until the Mueller Family bought it as a game preserve. It became a Colorado State Park in 1990. There were no clear signs indicating who this home belonged to, but it couldn’t have been that old as it had a concrete foundation and evidence of glass windows.
The building was dilapidated and had a “keep out” sign. It was obvious the roof had caved in some time ago (and was littering the floor, along with barbed wire. I didn’t go inside.
It was pretty close to Cahill Pond, so I’m assuming maybe it belonged to the Cahill Family?
Directly to the East of Cahill Pond is a large meadow. I couldn’t help but stop and take a picture of the grass and rolling hills.
There was another building located inside an Aspen grove just before the Cheesman Ranch trail. It looked to be an old hay loft and root cellar.
Rule Creek Pond lined Highway 67, and we came upon it almost accidentally. I’ve seen it from the road frequently, but never realized it was a Mueller State Park Pond.
The rest of the trail followed a service road. The trail was pretty to look at, but I noticed some of the leaves were already starting to change color! It’s only August 20th: way too early for the leaves to change!
Completing this hike means I’ve now visited all the ponds in Mueller State Park, most of which you need to hike at least 3 miles round trip to see:
This right here is why I insist when hiking Pikes Peak to be back below the treeline before 1pm. Pikes Peak tends to create its own weather, and afternoon storms during the summer are very common.
You can see where the treeline begins. From there it’s about 3 miles to the peak. The first mile or so provides minimal shelter in the form of caves, but unless you’ve hiked the trail before and know where to look you won’t be able to find them in a storm.
Those 3 miles can take 3 hours to hike, so for those of you who think after you hit the treeline it’s only an hour or so to the top, think again. I talk to so many people hiking for their first time up Pikes Peak who seriously misjudge the hiking time (difficulty, necessity for water, etc.) and are astonished to learn this.
Good Luck Hikers! I love giving hiking/backpacking advice for Pikes Peak. Feel free to ask questions about Barr Trail!
Wild Wanderer 