ropes – Wild Wanderer

Coxcomb – 13,663 and Redcliff – 13,648

RT Length: 13.24 miles

Elevation Gain: 4654’

Climbing Gear included 2 60 meter 7.9mm ropes.

I’ve been up in my head about this peak since my failed attempt last month. Last time I’d turned around because I wasn’t 100% sure I was in the right area and I was afraid of cliffing out. All of the information I had on Coxcomb was conflicting (some called areas class 3 and others class 5, etc.) and none of the pictures I had from others lined up with what I was seeing. After going back home and researching more I realized I had been in the correct area, and now I was ready to try again.

I drove to the Wetterhorn Trailhead and was surprised to see no one else parked in the lot. The last time I was here there were several other vehicles. I got out, walked around, and signed the trail register so I wouldn’t need to in the morning. It was cloudy and windy but on the plus side there were no mosquitoes.

I tried to pump myself up for the hike tomorrow, but was still having trouble mentally. I told myself to just enjoy the hike and focus on learning something, even if I didn’t summit (again). I got out the book I’m (still) reading: Death in Yosemite, and noted I was still on the ‘death while climbing’ chapter. It may sound macabre, but reading about how other, more experienced climbers have died while climbing puts climbing into perspective for me: gravity never sleeps, and I can never be too careful (which is another reason why I turned around last time). I like to review potential mistakes so I don’t make them.

A group of three (shirtless) guys in their early 20s walked by, carrying gear and pads. I stopped them to see where they were headed and they told me they were just out bouldering. Hmmmm… I didn’t think the area was good for bouldering, but I wished them luck.

I made sure to get to bed early, and wouldn’t you know it, I heard a mouse moving around under/inside my truck as I was trying to sleep. I guess those mothballs don’t work. Also, I believe it was the same mouse as last week: it’s most likely been living in my truck, building a nest, etc. I was going to need to get some traps asap.

I woke up and was on the trail at 4:30am, taking the same route as last time. There’s an obvious trailhead with a register.

I followed the class 1 trail for 3.4 miles up to the top of the pass, and then lost 450’ of elevation as I descended into the basin.

I’ve heard of others who’ve stayed high here instead of going into the basin, and from my perspective, the rubble and talus and scree aren’t worth it: I’m ok losing a little elevation, and I’m actually convinced it saves time. Once in the basin I left the trail, crossed the basin and followed the ridge up to the base of Coxcomb

There was a little bit of scrambling to get to the base

Here’s an overall view of the route up

Once there I was happy to see the rocks I’d placed in the chimney were still where I’d put them. I sat down, put on my helmet, and mentally prepared myself to begin. Here’s the first chimney

I made my way over to the chimney and tried to climb up. No dice. I love to boulder, but I haven’t been since COVID started due to the gym being closed and now requiring masks (say what you will, but I cannot work out with a mask on. I respect the rules however, and thus choose not to go). All this to say I’m a little rusty when it comes to my bouldering skills.

Ok, so if I couldn’t just climb up I’d do what I did last time: I took off my pack, attached a rope to the pack and my harness, and tried climbing up without a pack. The rock was cold and my fingers were stiff and I tried and tried but was unable to climb up the chimney. What was wrong? I’d been able to do it last time! Ugh. That was when I realized last time I’d worn climbing shoes. I guess they did make a difference. Oh well, I was just going to need to get creative. I tried once again, this time angling myself sideways, putting my thigh into a crack, shimmying around, and pressing into the side of the rock with my inner thigh and hoisting myself up. This took me halfway up the chimney. From there I was able to hoist myself up and use my arms to do the rest. I made it to the top of the chimney, hauled up my gear, and prepared for the second part for the climb. The red circle is where I ‘sat’

The next section was easy class 3. I re-coiled my rope, put on my pack, and made my way to the base of the next chimney

This is where I’d gotten stuck last time. This time however, I was sure I was in the correct spot. I initially tried to climb this with my pack on, realized that wasn’t going to happen (the pack was too heavy and put me off balance) and decided to try climbing this chimney without my pack. The red circle is where I took off my pack.

Here’s what the climb looks like from there. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to climb this with my gear, but also knowing I needed my gear to descend I decided to once again tie the rope to my harness and loop it around my pack. I was very careful to make sure my rope didn’t get tangled, and I had an exit strategy in case the whole ‘rope around the pack thing’ didn’t work in this area. I wouldn’t recommend this tactic unless you put a lot of thought and planning into its execution, as so many things can go wrong in this scenario. Here’s a look at the beginning of the route

I made it halfway up and stopped.

At the halfway point I hauled up my gear to where I was positioned. I figured this would lessen the chances of my pack getting stuck when I hauled it all the way up, and also gave me a chance to test whether or not hauling the pack would work in an area where I still felt I could downclimb safely. This tactic proved successful, so I continued on.

From the halfway point, here’s looking up at the rest of the route

This is a class 5.2 chimney that requires some stemming/fun/creative moves to ascend. At one point I even used a crack climbing technique to get a good hold with my arm vertically and hoist myself up. This is the point I wasn’t able to make it past last time, but after talking with others who’d successfully climbed this area I felt confident I’d be able to as well. There are some sketchy moves, but plenty of opportunities for stemming/hand holds to make the ascent doable. I was terrified but just told myself not to look down, to focus ahead, and soon enough I’d made it out of the chimney. Here’s the route I took

Once at the top of the chimney I turned and hauled up my gear, feeling pretty pleased with myself for making it this far. I recoiled my rope and put it in my pack.

I’ve heard it’s class 3 after this point to exit the chimney, but it felt class 2 to me

Last time I’d been worried I was in the wrong gully. Since I hike solo I’m extra careful, and probably turn back more often than I should when uncomfortable. One of the reasons I’d turned back here last time was I was worried if I ascended the wrong gully I’d be cliffed out. It turns out that wouldn’t have been the case, so if you’re worried about cliffing out in this area don’t be: all chimneys exit in the same area, and it’s solid. Here’s looking back

And forward towards the summit of Coxcomb

There was still one more obstacle before reaching the summit: a 25 foot notch I’d need to rappel before upclimbing to the summit.

I got out my rope, attached it to my gear and the anchor (which looked solid so I didn’t replace the webbing) and rappelled down into the notch. This is committing because it’s class 5.6 to climb back up. I’m not a climber, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to upclimb this section on my own: forward was the only way from here on out. This last bit included rappelling down, then climbing out of the notch

Here’s a look back up at this section from inside the notch

I once again retrieved and recoiled my rope, and got ready for the final pitch to the summit. I went north, following the cairns, and climbed up an easy chimney

From there it was an easy walk to the summit

I summited Coxcomb Peak at 9:30am. There was a summit register in a powerade bottle that should probably be replaced. I didn’t open it, but it looked like the papers were smushed in there.

Coxcomb:

I was thrilled I’d made it this far, but I still had the 170’ rappel to accomplish. I went to work, looking for the webbing and anchor set up. It was easy to find and still looked good, so I decided to use what was already there.

I tied my two ropes together with a double fisherman’s knot and threw my ropes. It was quite windy, and the wind was coming at me, so it took a couple of tries to make sure the ropes made it all the way to the ground. This was quite frustrating, but worth the extra effort to make sure it was done correctly. Next, I tested the rope, watched my knot to make sure it was secure, unclipped my safety, and started the rappel. Everything went smoothly. I even noticed 2 more anchors set up below where I’d rappelled, so if you brought just one rope it would have been enough (the webbing looked old though, and should probably be replaced).

My feet touched the ground and I gave out a “Woot!” I was so excited! I’d done it!!! I’d solo’d Coxcomb Peak, a peak I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to climb, let alone solo. I gave myself a minute to let it sink in, and then went about retrieving my ropes.

I had two ropes, one purple, one orange. I always pull the darker one. I pulled the purple one and was thrilled when it moved. I pulled it about 10 feet when it stopped. Hmmm. Ok, maybe it got stuck? So I pulled the orange rope back a few feet, and then tried the purple one again. Once again, it got stuck. I whipped the ropes and they moved as far as I could see, so one of the ropes must have been stuck up at the very top. I spent the next hour doing everything I could think of to retrieve those ropes, to no avail. In the end I made the very difficult decision to leave them there. I did put a note in the trail register on the way down and I posted to some climbing social media sites about their whereabouts, so at this point I’m fairly confident they’ve been retrieved. It hurt to leave them there, not only because of LNT, but also because this is the first time I’ve used them (besides the initial breaking in).

Here’s the rappel

I sighed heavily and turned to hike up Redcliff.

This was a very short, simple, and straightforward climb. I summited Redcliff at 11:15am

Redcliff:

Here’s looking back at Coxcomb. I’ve circled the notch that needs to be rappelled down and then climbed back up

I turned and headed back to the Coxcomb/Redcliff saddle, and then descended west into the basin

There wasn’t a well stablished trail here, but the route was easy enough to figure out. I just aimed for the visible class 1 trail below I’d taken on my way in this morning

Here’s looking back at the route from the saddle to the trail

And a look at the hike out

I made it back to the now full trailhead and my truck at 1:10pm, making this a 13.24 mile hike with 4654’ of elevation gain in 8 hours, 40 minutes.

I was thrilled with today’s success, and even though I’d lost two new climbing ropes I drove to the next trailhead on a bit of a high.

Dallas Peak – 13,812

RT Length: 12 miles

Elevation Gain: 5445’

There are a lot of really good reports on this mountain, but I’m visual and like a lot of pictures so I’m adding what I have to what’s already out there…

In keeping with my “sleep is for amateurs” theme this month I made it home yesterday just in time to pack up the truck and make it to the campground before dark. I helped my daughter set up her tent and then walked around the campground talking with the other families (I was hosting a Girl Scout Family campout, which was pretty chill, seeing as how everyone was basically “family camping” at the same spot). We’ve done this for the past 10 years now so I know every family has their own routine. Most go off roading and a few go into town. Everyone canoes/kayaks. My daughter wanted to get her homework done the first day so she could enjoy the weekend, so I decided to let her do that and I’d go hiking. 4 hours away. (Hey, in my mind the trailhead was 6 hours from my house, and by combining it with this trip I knocked 2 hours of the drive there and 2 hours back).

I was able to fall asleep around 8:30pm and got up at 10pm to drive the 4 hours to the Mill Creek / Deep Creek Trail (please do not confuse this with the Mill Creek Campground: you won’t end up in the right spot).

While sleep may be for amateurs, I’d had less than 4 hours sleep in the past 48 due to my South Colony Lake hike yesterday, and I found on the drive to the trailhead I was more tired than I’ve ever been driving. This scared me, so I pulled over to the side of the road and spent 5 minutes trying to fall asleep. This didn’t work, but it did give me about another half hour of driving in before I felt too tired to go on and decided to set my alarm for 20 minutes. 20 minutes was the magic number, and I was able to effortlessly drive the rest of the way to the trailhead, hike all day, and make it back to the campground without feeling the need to sleep again.

I was surprised to find the trailhead is at the end of a shelf road, and even more surprised to find so many vehicles parked there.

I was on the trail at 2:45am, a little disappointed in how heavy my pack was containing all my gear (60 meter rope, harness, belay device, webbing , etc.). I put on my helmet at the trailhead before starting the hike. The trailhead was very easy to find. I followed it northeast along the Deep Creek Trail.

After about half a mile I turned left (west) at this junction and continued on the Deep Creek Trail

The trail switchbacked 5 or 6 times up the mountainside and then curved north around it, following a well defined trail

After a total of about 1.7 miles there’s another trail junction. I turned right (north) here

And followed the Sneffles Highline/Deep Creek Trail north through some aspen trees

And switchbacked another 8 or 9 times up the mountain, transitioning through pine trees and then tundra mixed with pine

I was enjoying the lights of Telluride as I hiked in the dark, but I wasn’t enjoying the soreness in my shoulders. I took an ibuprofen and trudged on. This is where the trail looses about 300’ of elevation for no good reason. Luckily it’s not too drastic of an incline because it’s dispersed over half a mile, but it still hurts on the way out.

This decrease in elevation will take you to the base of Dallas Peak. Here you leave the trail and find your own way up the grassy slopes towards the cliff bands. Here is the route I took:

I started this in the dark, and just followed the tundra north, which eventually led me to a gully and a rocky cliff area. There was a lot of loose rock and scree here that slowed me down quite a bit (that and I was tired from all the hiking I’d already done this week). This is also a good time to put on your microspikes. I’ve heard there’s class 3 scrambling here but was able to find a class 2+ scree route by following social trails.

Just before making it to the cliffs I turned right (northeast) and followed some cairns to the ridge

You continue following to the left (northwest)

Until you see a gully to your left. Ascend via the class 4/5 section to the right of the gully. There are plenty of hand/foot holds here, and at the top there are anchors to rappel down (I didn’t, but if the rocks were wet I could see how this would be useful).

Once I gained this section I made my way to the base of the summit block and changed my gear, putting on my climbing shoes (totally worth carrying them) and harness. At this point I was exhausted: My gear was heavy and that mile of scree/talus had taken a lot out of me. Here’s the first part of the route:

This was as fun class 5 chimney climb that took some fancy footwork (only because I’m short). At times I was pressing my back to the rock for leverage and using my palms for support.

Here’s looking back down on this section

Here is where the route gets tricky. Even though you want to summit by going straight ahead (west) this is not the way to summit. Continue right around to the north side of Dallas.

Cairns weren’t helpful here. I kept finding areas that looked ‘summitable’ but for me weren’t. It was getting frustrating but I refused to give up: I’d make it half or even three quarters of the way up a line only to find the hand/foot holds ran out, and I knew there had to be a safer way. In total there were two obvious areas I tried that didn’t work before before coming to the correct one at the bottom of a small dirt filled gully on the north side of Dallas

Here’s what it looked like from the bottom

I was able to climb up this area without ropes, although it was slow going and I was careful with every hand/foot hold. I was very glad to have my climbing shoes. I summited at 9:15am.

Dallas Peak:

I was quite thrilled with myself for making it up without ropes, and decided to spend a long time on the summit, enjoying my success.

The way off Dallas Peak is to rappel to the southeast

There was quite a bit of webbing already set up.

The only problem? This guy. He refused to move, and quite honestly I didn’t want to scare him and have him bite/sting/fly all around me. So I talked to him for a bit and told him if he didn’t move, I wouldn’t kill him. This arrangement seemed to work, as he never left his spot. He was about 2 inches long.

I set up my gear and threw my rope over the side. It got tangled, so I had to haul it back up, untangle it, and throw it again. Success! On the way down it’s instantly committing. You aim for the hole (the hole is the halfway point down).

I double checked my set-up, leaned back and felt secure, so I unhooked my slings and started down, aiming for the hole in the rock

When I made it down to the hole I found it was a ledge: I could have set up a second rappel from here if need be (but my 60 meter rope was more than long enough). Here’s what it looks like looking up and down from the ledge.

I leaned back one more time and started the rappel down through the hole, noticing there was a rope that had been left there. When I made it to the ground I saw a sign on the rope asking others to leave it as they found it, as its owner is coming back this winter to retrieve it.

I unhooked my belay device, pulled my rope through and recoiled it, mentally thinking through the rest of the descent. I felt confident I could descend the class 4 section without rope, so I put it away in my bag.

Here’s the way I rappelled down

I decided to keep on my climbing shoes until I made it back down past the class 4 section. I wasn’t disappointed, as the rock was easier to navigate than it had been on the way up wearing climbing shoes. I felt very secure down-climbing this area. Also, it looks very different on the way down

Here’s a look at the way down from the ledge. I stuck to the left (east) of the snow and just aimed for the obvious trail below that cut across the side of the mountain, so glad I was doing this now in the daylight

I made it back to the trail and all I could think about was making it back to the campground as soon as possible: I’d promised my daughter I’d make dinner. I found some raspberries along the way that were delicious, so that settles it: Raspberries in the San Juans just taste better.

I made it back to my truck at 1:30pm, making this a 12 mile hike with 5445’ of elevation gain in 11 hours

I made it back to the campground around 5:30pm and we stayed up and chatted around the lake/campfire until late into the night. This is how I spent the rest of my Labor Day weekend, relaxing in the beauty of one of my favorite Centennials…