Mt Sherman – Wild Wanderer

Mt Sherman – 14,036, in Winter

RT Length: 8 miles

Elevation Gain: 3070’

Out of the 12 peaks on my short list to hike today Mt Sherman had the best weather, coming in at 12* with 15-20mph winds, and 30mph gusts. This was by far the best weather for wind gusts (most other peaks forecasted 50+mph winds) so it was a no brainer as to which peak to pick. Unfortunately (as you’ll read later) I made this decision at 9pm the night before and didn’t do much (ok, any) research on hiking Mt Sherman in winter because I’d seen some FB posts there was minimal avy danger that was easily avoidable and read the trailhead was clear. And hey, I’ve done this peak before and I knew what I was getting into. Right?

I was more nervous on the drive in to this trailhead than I’ve ever been. The last conditions report hinted it wouldn’t be difficult to make it to the Leavick site, and possibly further in a 4WD. However, about 4 miles before the Leavick site the normally 2WD road became a sketchy, drift and rut filled one way snow fest. This was a ‘both hands on the wheel’ kind of experience that required skill to stay in the lane and not drift into the deep snow on either side of the vehicle. I didn’t feel stellar about continuing on, but there was no place to turn around and in the dark I couldn’t see to back up so I just kept driving onward, bolstered by the fact others had obviously succeeded on this road yesterday.

I made it to the Leavick site at 5am in one piece (woohoo!) but there was no safe place to park my truck without it getting stuck in a snowbank. The wind had drifted snow all over the area, so I set about using my trucks tires as snowplows and drove it back and forth, up and down, flattening out an area big enough to park. This took a lot more time than anticipated as the snow was soft and kept sinking and squishing up on the sides as I drove over it. I had no idea how deep the snow actually was and the more I drove over it the more it pushed up the snow around it to make new walls. I got out my snow shovel and started scooping up some of the bigger areas of snow to make more room. Just as I was doing this another truck arrived and I let out a sigh of relief: The more vehicles to drive up the road and stomp down the snow the better! It looked like he was going to continue on, but then suddenly he backed up…. right into a drift. Ouch. I lent him my shovel and went back to work trying to make a suitable parking area. Once I felt I’d made enough room for my truck to safely park and about 2 others I went over to help the man with the stuck truck. We tried shoveling away all the snow, putting dirt and then rocks under the tires, and him gunning it while I pushed. No dice. That vehicle was stuck.

I was now an hour behind schedule and that truck wasn’t going anywhere. The man told me he had a few friends meeting him soon so I offered him the further use of my shovel and began my hike at 6am.

The Leavick area is 2.5 miles below the trailhead, but an easy hike on a 2WD dirt road (well, 2WD in the summertime). I put my snowshoes on in the truck and was grateful for them as I made my way up the road. It was windy but I’d anticipated the wind and was grateful for my balaclava, mittens, and hat.

At this point I started seeing footprints and even though I knew the road curved around to the left I decided to follow the footprints that led in the general direction of the basin, knowing they’d all connect when I made it further up. I made it to about here and stopped

The snow just didn’t feel right. I knew if I continued on I’d make it to the basin, but it felt like I was walking on a thin crust of ice with spongy layers below. It didn’t feel or sound right and the slope was getting steeper. I decided to just backtrack to the road. (Later I learned this was indeed the winter route, and others made it up said route that day, so I was most likely being over cautious, but no regrets).

I made it back to the road fairly quickly. There was plenty of snow blocking the gate

The sun started to rise just as I walked up to the Dauntless Mine area. I silently wished I’d started just a bit earlier so I could fully enjoy the alpenglow.

The wind was still present. Every once in a while a gust would hit me full force and I had to turn around and put my back to the wind, but this meant I was facing the sun

I was now in the basin. I looked at the summer route (or what I could see of it at the time) and got a little nervous: that was more snow than I’d anticipated and no ‘quick, easy way around’.

There are several routes (trails/roads?) around the hilltop mine. They were all covered in various degrees of snow, and some were too steep for my liking.

Here’s the route I took:

OK, so now I was in the basin and it was obvious the standard route was a no-go due to avy and cornice danger

I looked at the mountain and decided I had some options. I saw what looked like a viable path up the face and through a gully, and another that went off to the right, up a ramp, and then left to the summit. I knew from previous experience the ramp was a way down from White Ridge, and I was considering doing that peak as well today, so I decided to go up the gully (solid) and down the ramp (dotted).

By now the wind had died down and I was starting to get warm. This was fantastic! The gully had snow, but now very much. It was just enough to provide the necessary traction on the scree (which would have been nasty without the snow).

And boy was it steep!

From about halfway up I had a good view of my intended route down

The route kept getting steeper and steeper but I just kept to the areas where there was snow. Towards the end I got out my ice axe for support/stability.

I gained the ridge and looked back on what was the standard route. Yep, it had been an excellent choice to avoid the area altogether.

From the ridge I took a look back at the basin: yes, I could have just gone the way I’d started out, but I was where I wanted to be, so this was good too.

I turned north as the wind picked up a bit. Obviously others had been here recently. This didn’t look too bad

I gained one small ridge and saw what looked like more fun than I’d remembered last time I’d summited Sherman. Woot!

This was easy to cross, and as I was making my way I looked over to Gemini (another peak I was considering after Sherman)and debating if I should summit White Ridge or Gemini first?

Sherman has a very long ridge to the actual summit. Here’s more proof

I stopped for a second and looked over at White Ridge. It looked like it was getting some wind!

I continued on to the summit, with the wind increasing as I went. As I stood on the summit I turned around to get out my camera and was immediately knocked over by a gust of wind. Wow! That hadn’t been expected! I got to my knees and stood up again. Wham! I was knocked down again. Ugh! So I got out my trekking pole and used it as leverage, struggling to stand and the wind continued full force. It wasn’t happening. The wind was too strong! Ok I thought, I’ll just wait this gust out. But it didn’t stop. It became a sustained wind that didn’t seem like it was giving up anytime soon. There was no way this was the forecasted 30mph gusts. I’m not sure the speed, but it had to be pretty significant if I couldn’t stand. There was no way I was going to attempt Gemini or White Ridge in these conditions. It looked like I was heading back the way I’d come.

I couldn’t stand so I got out my ice axe and crawled back towards the ridge. This was a good and bad idea: I was making progress towards the ridge, but holding the ice axe was brutal on my hand. Note to self: bring something to wrap around my ice axe to work as a barrier for warmth between my glove and the axe, as gloves (mittens) don’t cut it. I noticed I couldn’t feel my fingers. This happens to me a lot, but this was the worse it’s ever been, and I got scared. Really scared. I was breathing fast and my breath froze my balaclava stiff. This meant I was now having a hard time breathing in and out of it due to the barrier. Wind chill is no joke.

I had to get out of this, and fast. I kept crawling down the ridge, hoping the wind would let up. It didn’t. Me being me, all I could think about was not getting a picture on the summit. I told myself there was no way I’d have been able to because the wind would have blown my camera away, but I still wanted one. I made my way to a rocky area that provided some shelter from the wind and took a selfie (kind of). I wasn’t on the summit at this time, but I was close, and it was the best I was going to get.

25 Mt Sherman

The camera wouldn’t focus due to the wind, and I thought it weird there was so much blowing snow on White Ridge but none on Sherman. The wind was insane but it wasn’t blowing any snow. I actually would have preferred blowing snow in a way because then I could have seen the wind coming towards me and anticipated the blast.

I put my camera away and while the wind was still brutal I was able to stand up. My fingers were seriously bothering me. I’d been trying to pump them back and forth but I wasn’t sure if it was working because I couldn’t feel them, and there was no way I was taking off my glove to check them out. Just before making it to the end of the ridge my fingers started burning intensely, as if I were touching a hot stove and not pulling my fingers away from the heat. The pain was extreme but I was relieved because this meant the blood was starting to flow through them and it also told me I hadn’t done any permanent damage.

I trudged back to the gully and started my way back down, pulsing my fingers the entire way. The initial descent from the ridge through the gully is very steep. I faced the mountain and used my ice axe. About 50 feet from the ridge the wind finally stopped and never started again. By now the sun had warmed up the snow in the gully, making it not quite slushy but still slippery.

Once I’d made it back to the basin I headed towards the hilltop mine.

And then followed my snowshoe tracks back down the mountain

By now my hands were sweating in my gloves, but I still didn’t want to take them off: the tips of my fingers hurt in a way they never had before and I wanted to keep them covered for as long as possible. I kept pulsing them and thinking to myself: now I know where my limit is. I can do cold to a certain point, but I cannot do wind chill. When I got home I looked it up, and if it were 10* on the summit (the forecast high had been 12*), after 40mph the wind chill stays constant at -39* up to 60mph winds. I learned today that’s too much for my body. From now on I cannot go hiking above treeline if the winds are forecasted over 25mph. I just can’t, and I need to hold myself to that. Also, I’m pretty sure the forecast had been wrong in this case, and if I’m honest I kind of knew this going in since Sherman’s forecast was so much better than every other mountain in the area. It had been too good to be true, and if it seems too good to be, it probably is.

Back to the trip report. The Dauntless Mine takes on a whole new quality with snow

I followed the road back to my truck, meeting a few hikers along the way. At one point it looked like someone had tried to drive further up the road past Leavick and had second thoughts. Instead of turning around it looked like they’d backed up down the road.

As I was walking the 2WD road back I was so warm I took off my balaclava and gloves about half a mile from my truck. My hands were swollen and sweaty and red and sore, but no blisters! It was warm and there wasn’t any wind so I kept my gloves off to let my hands dry out. I made it back to my truck at 10:15am, making this an 8 mile hike in just over 4 hours.

When I made it back the white truck was still stuck and there was one other vehicle in the area.

They’re still building a structure at the Leavick site. I’ve been told it’s a home but that sounds questionable to me. And creepy: the old structure creaks and groans with the wind continuously at night.

OK, let’s talk about the drive out. I wasn’t looking forward to driving those first 4 miles, but I was looking forward to them being over. After about a mile I came across a Jeep heading up the trail. Ugh! One of us was going to have to back up, but then the driver did something I hadn’t expected: He did what I’d done this morning to make a parking space, and drove up and down and up and down about a dozen times to make a spot for him to park and me to drive around. I slid around him with less than an inch to spare (and I mean this in more ways than one as despite being on my A-game I wasn’t 100% in control of the vehicle the whole time). I took a deep breath. That had been very, very close. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t hit him or gotten stuck on the side trying to pass, and I wasn’t entirely sure he could make it out of his ‘parking spot’.

Almost immediately after passing the Jeep I saw another vehicle coming towards me and thought “Oh no! Not again!” But this guy did something unexpected as well: He started backing up, quite efficiently, and didn’t stop for 2 miles! Even though I’d had the right of way he’d done the backing up. I was so grateful (and told him so when I was finally able to pass him). Once again, THANK YOU! You kept us both from potentially getting stuck. As a side note, whenever possible I used my truck to make the ruts in the road wider because it can do that kind of thing. Have I mentioned I love my truck?

Ok, let’s talk damage to my hands (and feet). I had indeed pushed them to their limit, but they aren’t permanently damaged. The tips of my fingers feel very raw, similar to how the little red sores you get on your feet feel after being in the pool for too long and rubbing your toes along the side. The tops are all red, and there are small blisters and lines under the tops of my fingernails (kind of like when you bend your nail backwards below the nail plate. Last night it felt like I had blisters all over the tips of my fingers (but no actual blisters present). My left pinky toe once again took the brunt of the hike: It’s swollen to twice its size, a fun purple/black color in the middle (not frostbite, but pretty bad chilblains, which are a consequence of Raynaud’s meeting cold) and very, very tender to the touch. I couldn’t get a shoe on today. Here’s a positive note: I teach wilderness first aid and we use aloe to treat frostnip (NOT frostbite). Since my chilblains have similar symptoms I put aloe on them, and it instantly felt the same relief as if I were cooling a sunburn. Woot! What’s even better is it’s not medicine so I can apply it as often as I’d like!

The Mt Sherman Summit Sticker can be bought here

Solo 58 – 14er Finisher (#58 Mt Sherman 14,036 & Mt Sheridan 13,748)

First of all, let’s define “solo”. We all know a mountain can’t be shut down so you’re the only one on it, so for the purposes of this exercise I define “solo” as: I did my own research on routes/directions. I drove myself to the trailhead. I hiked by myself. While hiking I did my own route finding. I hiked up and down the mountain without physical assistance from anyone else. I purposely stayed away from other hikers as much as possible by either giving them plenty of time to pass me, or by passing them (mostly by passing them).

Today I summited my 58^th unique Colorado 14er solo. That means I’ve summited all of Colorado’s 14ers, solo, in less than 14 months. Many people ask me how I got started hiking 14ers. I’ve enjoyed hiking for as long as I can remember, but where I was first introduced to summit hikes and rock climbing was in the early 1990s at Girl Scout Camp.

I’ve been a Girl Scout all my life. I camped often with my Troop, and when I was old enough (around middle school) I went away to our local Girl Scout camp during the summers. Girl Scout camp is where I first learned how to shoot a bow and arrow, start a fire, cook outdoors, use a compass, hike at night, rock climb, swim and canoe in a pond, tack and ride and care for a horse (while backpacking in all types of weather) and successful problem solving and conflict resolution strategies. I was encouraged to lead where I could and to try new things. I have many fond memories of my times at camp, but two stick out when it comes to why I started climbing 14ers.

I was 12 and at camp the first time I went rock climbing. I loved it, but some of the girls were nervous (yes, that’s me)

I remember being at the top of my line when the girl next to me became scared about halfway up and froze. She couldn’t go up or down. One of the counselors, SP, talked to her gently:

“Honey, I know this looks scary and it’s ok to be scared but you can do this. You’re roped in, and my name’s SP and I’m here to help you. Do you know what SP stands for? (SP stretched out her arms): Soft Pillow. I’ve got you. You can do this”. The other girls started encouraging her as well, cheering her on and verbally assisting her with her footholds and hand placements. This encouragement helped the girl regain her confidence, make it to the top of the line, and rappel back down. Girl Power at its finest.

During my sessions at camp a few brave counselors would sometimes begrudgingly volunteer to lead a group of 20 or so ill prepared but enthusiastic middle school aged girls on a hike to summit a nearby peak on the Pacific Crest Trail. This was an optional hike I always chose to take. Pyramid Peak has 2100’ of elevation gain in 7 miles (3.5 each way), most often done in the blistering Southern California summer sun. Oh, the switchbacks!

We enthusiastically filled our trekking time dodging rattlesnakes, identifying dusty plants, shrubs, and trees, and of course, singing dozens of Girl Scout trail songs to keep the mountain lions away. When I reached the summit I was hot, dirty, tired, sweaty, and delighted with myself for being the first to the top every time.

From the summit (7035’) you could see the whole camp!

I remember looking down at everyone who’d foolishly stayed behind and thinking they sure missed out not hiking with us! Didn’t they all look bored lounging by the pool? I bet they were gazing longingly at the peak, watching us right now, wishing they’d hiked too…

By the time I was 12 I’d promised myself to someday hike the Pacific Crest trail in its entirety from Mexico to Canada. I have yet to do so, but it’s still on my bucket list.

I don’t remember much of the hike back down to camp besides enthusiastic singing, but we’d make it back and run and jump into the lake with all of our clothes still on: It was the fastest way to cool off! We were met with popsicles and extra shower time.

Summiting all 58 of Colorado’s peaks over 14,000 feet is not an easy task. Most people spend years if not decades completing them all. It takes physical and mental strength, endurance, careful planning, determination, adaptability, high risk tolerance, willingness to ask questions and research, and a love of the outdoors, animals, and all types of weather.

A ‘finisher’ is the last peak a climber needs to summit to say they’ve summited them all, and it’s usually chosen for a special reason. 14er enthusiasts are known for choosing their finisher well in advance. I chose Mt Sherman because Girl Scout Camp started me on my path towards the love of the outdoors, adventure, goal setting, leadership, girl power, and wild wanderings. My Girl Scout camp experience took place at Camp Scherman in Southern California. Here’s my 14er Finisher Trip Report:

#58 Mt Sherman – 14,036 & Mt Sheridan 13,748

RT Length: 12.9 miles

Elevation Gain: 3700’

If you read the above statement you know why I chose Sherman as my finisher. Also, it’s an ‘easy’ 14er (as easy as 14ers go), so it took away any pressure towards the end to summit a difficult peak. In fact, I made this one harder than it needed to be.

Yesterday after summiting Maroon Peak I gave serious consideration to just stopping by Mt Sherman on my way home and hiking it then, but as I passed the 9 from the 24 I was in the middle of a thunderstorm that didn’t look like it was going to give up anytime soon. So I drove home, made dinner, wrote a terrible trip report (because I was writing it while I was making dinner and doing laundry) and got a few hours sleep before my alarm went off at midnight. I did a mental calculation: well, that was 6 hours of sleep total in the past 48. No worries though, if all went well today I could sleep Sunday.

For the first time in a long time I didn’t see anyone else on the road from the time I made it past Divide until I made it to the trailhead. It was heaven! I made it to the Fourmile Creek TH at 3am on a 2WD dirt road. Well actually, I parked at the winter closure. I wanted to make sure I got that 3000’ of elevation gain in so no one could say I hadn’t ‘earned’ this summit, so I made sure to park at the lower trailhead. No one else was there when I parked, or when I made it back to my truck.

I got out of my truck and gathered my gear. It was a beautiful night to hike! The moon was full. It was so bright I didn’t need to use my flashlight at all the entire hike. Not even to read my directions. I took a few shadow selfies in the moonlight because I do that kind of thing.

Soon after I started hiking a car passed me. And then another one. Ugh! I really wanted to summit this peak alone. If that was going to happen I was going to have to book it. I picked up my pace, passed the gate and followed the road up the hill. In no time I’d passed everyone ahead of me (not bad, considering they’d had at least a 2 mile head start) and focused on route finding in the dark. The route is easy to follow, but in many places roads intersect each other, and in the dark talus tends to make the trail difficult to see. I’m happy to report I didn’t need to backtrack at all. Sorry there aren’t many route pictures in this report: it’s actually very straightforward and difficult to get lost.

I made it to the ridge crest and looked behind me. Uh oh. A steady stream of flashlights was lining the trail.

Luckily I didn’t see any flashlights ahead of me. Here’s what the ridge looked like.

I started hiking the ridge and the wind picked up, making it cold. This wouldn’t do! But there was nothing I could do about it, so I just hiked faster. Unfortunately I was hiking too fast. I was almost at the summit and the sun was nowhere near to rising! Hmph! I’d wanted a sunrise summit. Oh well, at least I was route finding and summiting solo, since no one was in front of me. If I’d started any later this morning I’d be with the throng of hikers behind me.

I’d planned on making a summit video for this hike as I was summiting, but I’d also expected the sun to be up. Well, I made the video anyway. In the dark. I’ll apologize now for the heavy breathing and sniffling: I swear I lose all my weight hiking through snot. I always come back with a raw nose… Anyway, if you’d like to join me on my finisher summit, watch the video below. (Disclaimer: it’s emotional)

I’d started at 3:15am, hiked over 5 miles in the dark, and summited at 5am. The only thing wrong with summiting at 5am? I couldn’t take a summit photo! So I sat and waited for the sun to rise. As I waited the peak began to fill up with other hikers. I sat and talked with a really nice girl for about half an hour until there was enough light to take a summit picture (notice the full moon?!?!?)

9 Mt Sherman 14036

And another summit video

And a summit selfie. I’d made this hat special for today (ok, I made 6 different hats and had my daughter chose the one she liked best). It’s made with the same colors as the Camp Scherman patch I’d received at camp in 1993 when I was 12 years old. This was very emotional for me.

The summit was actually quite large. Good thing too as, it was going to be filled with hundreds of people soon. I’d wanted to stay until the sun actually rose, but I was a popsicle at this point, and needed to get moving.

Here are some photos of the ridge to the summit. You’ll notice from here on out it was virtually impossible to get a picture without people in it.

As I started hiking I started thawing out. I looked ahead of me and saw people on the trail intent on summiting 14er Sherman, but when I looked at 13er Sheridan it was vacant. That’s where I wanted to be.

I made it to the saddle and started up. The path was very easy to follow… no explanation necessary.

The summit of Sheridan was large, but not as big as Sherman’s. I wasn’t sure where the true summit was, so I kind of walked across the entire thing.

I also got a summit photo

16 Mt Sheridan 13748

And Video

And a picture looking back at Mt Sherman.

I was feeling fantastic! It was 6:45am, I’d already summited two ranked 14er/13er peaks, and I wasn’t even tired! Wouldn’t it be fun to re-summit Sherman, head over to centennial Dyer, and then back? Yes, it would have been, but if I left now I could make it home in time for my daughter’s 11:30am ice skating lesson. So I headed back down the mountain, practically skipping the entire way.

Look at all those people heading up Sherman!

Here are some pictures of the trail up the mountainside. Notice the people??? So. Many. People.

I love this one of the Dauntless Mine

Check out the cars at this trailhead!!! And they just kept coming as I was walking back down the road…

So, as I was hiking back to my truck (I found a dime on the dirt road BTW… lucky me!) it hit me:

Today I finished summiting all 58 of Colorado’s 14ers solo. I set this goal for myself and met this goal for myself. I did it while working full time. I did it while being a 37 year old (amazing) single mom of 3 teenagers on a limited income. I did it despite being tired and scared and at times so frozen and cold I didn’t think I could move another step. I did it while being band mom, team mom for my daughter’s softball team, merit badge counselor for my son’s Boy Scout Troop, Leader for 3 different Girl Scout Troops, in charge of Girl Scout Cookie distribution for hundreds of Girl Scout Troops, volunteering weekly at the Humane Society, serving on several community boards, and knitting over 300 hats for local school kids. I did it because I was determined to do something for myself. That being said, I couldn’t have done it without 3 such amazing kids! They really made the process easier for me. They deserve cake.

And finally, to answer “What are you going to do now that you’ve hiked them all?”

This question is obviously asked by someone who doesn’t know me very well. I have a lot of life goals, and this is only one in a long line of many. Off the top of my head some of the others I want to tackle are: Rim to Rim Grand Canyon, 14ers in California/Washington, Galapagos, Andes, Kilimanjaro, Mt Fuji, Mona Loa, Mt Everest Base Camp, Great White Shark Diving, thru hiking the PCT, Colorado, and Appalachian Trails… I also want to join a recreational softball league, become better at my winter climbing skills, visit all 50 United States (6 left!) and dive into that stack of books on my nightstand. I want to find a man to spend time with who understands an independent woman and can keep up with me both athletically and intellectually, and I want to go back to school to get my Doctorate. I want to write a book, become a motivational speaker, and don’t forget there are over 637 13ers in Colorado, and many, many more amazing local climbs to tackle!

Inspire yourself people. #noexcuses

On to the Centennials!

The Mt Sherman Summit Sticker can be bought here