I moved my truck. Just a little bit. I noticed as I was sitting around during the day there was a rather large tree poised to fall directly on my truck if the wind blew too hard, which it was currently doing. I moved it about 50 feet away, but still in the same area.
I slept much better that night. I woke up and was on the trail at 4:30am, following the road south to the Lily Lake Trailhead.
The road was clearer than it was 2 days ago, which I thought was suspicious, because I’d been in the area and hadn’t heard any chainsaws. The road was cleared almost right up to the trailhead, but the path was tiny. It looked like it was made just for ATVs, so imagine my surprise when I made it to the trailhead and saw a 4Runner and several trucks parked there (sporting Colorado pinstripes, of course).
I headed south on the Lily Lake Trail
I signed the trail register and was on my way
While the road in was almost completely free of deadfall, the trail was not. There were still several large, downed trees lining the trail.
The trail was still easy to follow, with a few minor creek crossings.
After hiking for 1.85 miles, I came to a junction and continued south, going around this downed tree to find the trail
I came to the Huerfano River Crossing, and cursed myself for not bringing my creek crossing shoes. Luckily, the water only went up to my knees.
I crossed the river and followed the trail to the right.
The trail picked up again at the other side, and I had no problem following it south…
Until I had a problem following it south. This is where the fun route finding begins. Right where these trees cross the trail, turn left and go up the little waterfall trickling down. I was at 10720’ of elevation
There was a trail here, and I was able to pick it up at times, but there are also tons of social trails. The area hasn’t had much use since the Lindsey closure, and it’s apparent. It would be a good idea to have a GPX file for this area.
It helps if you follow the boulder field southeast, and keep the stream to your right
Eventually the trail will cross the creek
This trail will bring you to the upper basin
Here’s the route to took to the summit of Huerfanito from the upper basin. I took the dotted route up, the solid route down. If I had to do this again, I’d take the solid route up and back.
I left the trail at 11995’, and headed south. When I reached the bottom of the slope I put on my microspikes and headed straight up, following the line of snow. The scree here was rotten, definitely 2+
Here are pictures of the route up. This is definitely choose your own adventure, and I’m sure the conditions change from year to year, so stay safe and have fun!
Once at the saddle, I turned and headed left
There are a lot of places that look like the summit, but this is the summit block
I rounded the summit block to the south and headed east. This was class 2 to the summit
I summited Huerfanito at 7:45am. There was no place to set the camera, so I took a selfie with my phone.
Huerfanito:
While there was a cairn there, I spent a lot of time making sure I was at the true summit of Huerfanito, since I had a lot of conflicting information. I went back and forth on the ridge, took pictures from every angle, and was certain I was on the true summit.
Now to head back down. I retraced my steps back to the small saddle
From the saddle I had a great view of my route in, which I would follow back
I scree-surfed down the scree. The route I took on the way down had scree that made for the best scree-surfing I’ve ever done. I was back down to the tundra in no time.
At the bottom I took off my microspikes, and headed north to find the trail.
I then followed the trail back to the river crossing
I crossed the river, once again taking off my shoes, and then followed the trail back to the trailhead
I signed out of the register, and followed the 4WD road back to my truck
I made it back to my truck at 10:15am, making this a 9.66 mile hike with 3008’ of elevation gain in 5 hours, 45 minutes.
I didn’t want Peak Fifteen to be my Bicentennial Finisher. I really didn’t. In fact, last month I attempted Peak Fifteen, but had to turn around due to several factors: There was too much water in the couloir and if the section I was in was really class 4… my skills had gone south. It hurt to hike all the way in from Purgatory and not get a summit, but I knew the conditions weren’t safe. So, I turned around, went back home, and did more research.
This time, I brought my friend and climbing mentor, Tim. My thoughts were to climb this peak with him, get the hang of it, and attempt it solo at a later date. Spoiler alert: After successfully summiting this peak, I do not think I’ll be attempting it solo.
It was a long hike in from Purgatory. We ended up hiking a little slower than anticipated, so we stayed the night at the campsite at Ruby Lake; something I’ve always wanted to do. It was already dark when we arrived, and I’d only brought one set of clothing, so it was a cold night for me as my sweat turned to ice at night inside my bivy. This made for interesting (zombie filled ) nightmares.
The next morning, we were up before sunrise to be willow warriors and thrash our way into Ruby Basin. We made it just as the sun rose.
Here’s the route we took up the gully to the saddle. We stayed just above the willows, and hiked southeast across the basin until we were directly below the gully, then ascended the gully.
When I was here in August, there was snow under the scree in this gully. Because it was under the scree, I didn’t see it and it caught me by surprise when I unexpectedly sank up to my waist in slush. Back in August, I made it up this gully by going right, but this time we went left. It looks like the conditions change here frequently, so pick the line that goes best for you. Also, microspikes help here with the scree (if you don’t use microspikes on scree you’re making it more difficult than it needs to be: get some spikes for summer too). Here are some pictures of the gully
The second half of the gully is full of large rocks, which eventually give way to scree. This scree is some of the worst scree I’ve experienced. This is where your microspikes really come in handy. Back in August I followed fresh goat tracks to the saddle. Those tracks in September had been used several times and formed nice switchbacks. However, it appears these tracks are destroyed every winter, and need to be remade every summer/fall.
Once at the top of the gully it was time to lose about 350’ of elevation. We did this by following the scree southwest, staying high but just below the rock outcroppings (we took a different approach on the way back).
We continued down to about 12,500’, and then entered the Peak 15/Peak 16 gully
This is the gully you’re looking for. There are cairns here, and it’s the first, obvious route ‘up’
The first part of the gully is class 3, and just requires some rock hopping.
This gully turns into a couloir, and becomes easy to follow, but difficult to climb. This is the first class 4 section. There were no good hand/foot holds, as everything crumbled in my hands. In August it was running with water. Tim spent some time cleaning away the loose rock, making climbing easier. Even in mid-September, there was still water here. Wearing a pack with climbing gear/rope makes the ascent that much more difficult.
The second class 4 section of the couloir was… more than class 4. I started up, and when I got about halfway through realized I may have been in over my head. I couldn’t climb down, so I had to keep going up. Since I was ‘stuck’ it became a mental exercise, where I told myself “If I can do this while on rope, I can do it off rope as well”, but to be honest it was intense and I didn’t feel comfortable soloing this (but I did). There was a lot of deep breathing involved. I’d recommend roping up here, if you can find a way to do so. Climbing shoes would have been helpful (but they were in my pack…). We both felt this was class 5, not class 4. I belayed my partner on this section from above.
Just above this section there are anchors set up. It’s good to take note of where they’re at as you’re passing them. There will be three sets of anchors in the couloir. Here are some more pictures of the couloir. A lot of the webbing set up looks faded, but there’s plenty there. We cleaned up some of the older webbing and hiked it out (the stuff we didn’t even need to cut because it was frayed and falling apart).
The couloir seemed to last forever. At 13,050’ we exited the couloir, below the 15/16 saddle, and went left up the ledges to 13,300’. This was class 3 scrambling with a lot of kitty litter (kitty litter is the name of the game on this climb). Where applicable, I noted Tim tossed unnecessary obstacles aside, like tumbling rocks and kitty litter, to help clear the route.
When we were about 50’ below the Peak 15/16 saddle it was time to rope up for the slabs. This picture looks at the saddle, but we were headed the opposite way, left/west (this picture is just a good visual of where you’ll be)
We were headed west, across the ledge system.
While we were still on level ground, we roped up. Then Tim led the way across the slab. It was good to get roped up first because there wasn’t a lot of room at the rappel area to do so. Here’s an overall view of our roped ascent and the belay stations. I put on my climbing shoes, but Tim didn’t feel his were necessary.
This is what it looked like getting there. We are aiming for the red circle to get to the lower belay station.
Once at the lower belay station I was set up to belay Tim from below as he set the protection and climbed first. Here’s looking back at the traverse
Oh, there’s some exposure here.
Since Tim’s the more experienced climber (WAY more experienced) I’ll let him describe this part of the route, starting with his overview:
Look for a series of shallow ledges that leads to a three foot wide ledge with a horn big enough to straddle. This is still 4th class terrain, so you can simply belay sitting next to the horn without an anchor.
If you feel you need one, wrap the rope end around the horn three times to make a tensionless hitch or use a cordalette. Bring your second up and have them belay from the three foot wide ledge below you. There will be about three horizontal seams you can place pro in ranging from #3 Camalots to .25. I managed to place five pieces total.
After your last piece you want to head for a shallow V slot next to some bulges. This is the 4th class exit and leads past a rock with a crack in it you could build an anchor in. This is exposed and one could fall from there, and you may be out of gear as I was. Continue then above this to where the steepness of the pitch eases off and there are two scrubby evergreen bushes. You can sling some of the roots for a sketchy, but adequate anchor. Once your second is up, you can both walk to the right towards a large, grassy ledge where the final 3rd class gully is.
I’m not a serious climber: I’ve been climbing for a few years, but I’m no expert. I was glad to be roped in, and wouldn’t have wanted to do this part without someone belaying me (or the other way around). A fall would have been fatal. Tim called it “poorly protected 5.4”. He placed 5 pieces of protection.
From the upper belay station, we turned right and followed the slopes east, looking for an access gully/kind of a small chimney.
The gully is about halfway to the saddle. This is what it looks like from below
From the east side it’s easier to see. This is class 3, with a cairn at the bottom.
Once up the gully, we followed the ledges northeast to the ridge. This was “choose your own adventure”, but we aimed for the northeast corner of the ridge
Once the furthest northeast we could go, we ascended the ridge via a short, easy class 3 ramp, and scrambled west to the summit
Final, class 2 scramble to the summit (easier than it looks)
We summited Peak Fifteen at 12.30pm. Also, yes, it was my birthday, so I was celebrating not only my bicentennial finisher, bust also turning 41. Woot!
Peak Fifteen:
We stayed at the summit for quite a while, enjoying the beautiful day and awesome views. The summit register was a tube, so naturally the paper inside was wet. I added a pencil to the register, signed my WW’s, and we headed back down.
Note: we rappelled 6 times before making it to the bottom of the couloir. That’s a lot of rope work! There were adequate webbing/rings set up, which held just fine but are bleaching and might need to be replaced next season (see pictures). We cleaned up some of the ripped/damaged rope and brought it out. We brought a 60 meter, 7.9mm rope. It worked perfectly for the ascent and rappelling down, but being smaller in diameter, tended to get stuck in the cracks. Also, this is where I learned Tim curses when ropes get stuck.
We followed the ridge east back to the ledges, which we followed southwest.
At 13570’ we headed back towards the saddle and the anchors. We rappelled down from the first anchor, and afterwards headed towards the second anchor, circled in red.
The second rappel
Here’s looking up from the bottom of the second rappel
The third rappel brought us to the Peak 15/16 saddle
Here’s looking up and down from the saddle
Once at the saddle, we went southwest on slopes, following the couloir to the right
We made our way back to the couloir, and rapped 3 more times to the bottom. We counted 6 rappels in all.
From the base of the couloir, we made our way back to the scree-saddle, this time taking the direct, grassy/tundra approach, to avoid the scree. We saw mountain goats here.
And then back down the scree filed gully, scree surfing to the basin
From the basin we hiked back through the willows to our campsite at Ruby Lake, making it back around 6pm. Round trip from Ruby Lake to the summit of Peak 15 and back to Ruby Lake made for about a 13 hour day. All that rope work sure took its time! We celebrated with some whiskey and wine; after all, this was my bicentennial finisher, and it was my birthday… no one got hurt, and, this was much harder than anticipated by both of us for different reasons and we were successful. All reasons to celebrate!
We made it an early night and were up at 6am to hike back to Purgatory. The night was much warmer, if only because I didn’t go to sleep in wet, sweat filled clothing. The hike out went fast, as we talked much of the time. We made it to the Animas River/Purgatory trail bridge, and were surprised to see people in sandals carrying small children (some of them crying). Apparently, the train stops at Cascade Wye now for passengers to get off and walk around (not sure if it’s ever done that before?).
We made it back to Purgatory Trailhead around 2:30pm. My tracker says we went 53.34 miles, with 13765’ of elevation gain.
I would like to thank Tim for being my climbing partner and accompanying me on this trek, which I’m sure ended up being more of an adventure than he bargained for! I believe this climb takes two experienced climbers to complete safely; It was nice to have someone I could trust join me. In addition, he’s been my climbing mentor, voluntarily taking me climbing and ‘teaching me the ropes’ for years. He’s the one who taught me how to set up anchors, how to climb and rappel safely, and all about proper gear. I couldn’t have done all the other class 5 bicentennial peaks without his instructions. I still keep his safety checklist with me in my climbing gear.
I also want to thank everyone who has posted trip reports in general, but specifically trip reports for Peak Fifteen, as for me it was the hardest of the bicentennials. We all experience hikes/climbs differently, and it was nice hearing the difficulty/route finding levels from other climbers. If you plan to climb this peak, please take it seriously, and read all trip reports you can find on this peak before attempting a climb, as they all offer great insights.
I decided to hike these peaks from the Maroon Bells area because I had a pass and was already there. I knew today was going to be a straightforward but long day, and it was supposed to storm in the morning, so I was up extra early and on the trail at 2am. I started at the Maroon Lake trailhead, and passed a few deer grazing in the dark. I skirted Maroon Lake to the right, and continued on the trail towards Crater Lake.
At the first junction I continued straight, and followed Maroon Snowmass Trail 1975 up into Minnehaha Gulch.
I continued on this trail all the way to Willow Pass.
This is a class 1 trail that crosses a creek, then heads north through the basin.
Stay right at this sign
And follow the trail to Willow Pass.
CalTopo tells me I hiked 5 miles from the parking area to Willow Pass. From Willow Pass you can see today’s peaks
From Willow Pass I descended 560’ into the basin
I came to the Junction for East Snowmass Trail/Willow Lake, and turned left, following the East Snowmass Trail.
I was now following the trail towards the saddle of PT 13336 and PT 13020
The upper basin was really neat, as I could see two different types of rocks, one coming from each mountain. The color contrast was interesting. The trail was still class 1 to the saddle, staying on the tundra/red dirt.
Once at the saddle it’s a good idea to put your helmet on. I decided to tackle PT 13336 first. This is class 3, and takes place on loose rock. You may want to put on your microspikes for added traction. The red dirt was mushy because it had recently rained, but it was still loose. Here’s the route I took, as seen from higher up on PT 13020 later in the morning:
And here are some step by step pictures of the route:
Easily walk around the first two obstacles to keep this part class 2
Next, you can either skirt the next obstacle to the left to keep this class 2, or go straight up and over if you like class 3
Now, keeping the ridge in front of you, the route becomes class 3. Head between these two boulders and ease a little left
Look for a break in the rock formation and scramble up
You can now clearly see the ridge. Keep the ridge to your right, and skirt the north side of the ridge. There is no need to go up and over the ridge at this point.
The rock here is loose, and only gets looser. Follow the loose rock up a sort of side gully.
At the top of this rubble the rock changes. It’s no longer the loose Maroon rock: it now becomes the loose Snowmass rock. This rock is very slippery when wet, and even when not, so take care. These rocks are not stable. Just assume they all move. Cross this gully high. There is still no need to gain the ridge, you can stay just a bit below
I have a feeling the terrain here shifts often, so pick your way carefully. I traversed the ledge by staying about 50 feet below the ridge, and then gaining the ridge through a gully
At the top of the ridge you can see the true summit of PT 13336. The terrain stays just as loose as before.
I summited PT 13336 at 6:10am
PT 13336:
Here are some pictures of the way back to the saddle
Across the gully
And down the maroon scree
From here you can see the summit of PT 13020 and Buckskin Benchmark
It was a simple ridge hike, with just a few fun moves to the summit of PT 13020. Here’s the overall route
And some step by step pictures. To gain the upper ridge, I skirted the rock formations to the left, but still stayed as close to the ridge as possible.
Once on the upper ridge I followed it to the summit of PT 13020, only dipping down to the left once through a gap in the rocks to keep this class 2
I summited PT 13020 at 7:20am.
PT 13020:
It was starting to rain, so I headed back down the ridge to the saddle.
Once at the saddle, I followed the class 1 trail back to Willow Pass
There was a large family of marmots at the Willow Lake/East Snowmass/Willow Pass Junction. As I approached, several jumped underneath the grass, not wanting to be photographed. I turned and headed southwest towards Willow Pass
And from Willow Pass I followed the trail back to the Maroon Lake Trailhead
I made it back to the trailhead at 10:45am, making this a 16.3 mile hike with 5815’ of elevation gain in 9 hours, 45 minutes
And, just because I have room for one more picture, can we all take a minute to appreciate jut how beautiful this area is?
Ophir Pass Road is a serious 4WD road, but the trailhead for this peak can be accessed from the Ophir city side with just a high clearance vehicle. There were a few small water crossings, but 4WD was never needed.
I parked in a parking area about 1.3 miles east of the town of Ophir, on Ophir Pass Road, in the Iron Spring area. All the parking spots were taken but 1, and every vehicle was parked there overnight. This is a popular spot to park to backpack/hike in the area.
The mosquitoes were out here as well, so I made it an early night and got some sleep. I was up and on the trail by 3:45am. The trail starts on a blocked 4WD road to the south of the parking area.
I followed this road southeast and then south, through gates, aspen trees and two stream crossings with easily crossable bridges
After the second stream crossing, I passed below some power lines, turned left to follow the trail, and started gaining elevation.
The hike below treeline was nice, and the trails were class 1, but there were no trail signs or numbers, and several trail crossings. I’ll do my best to describe the correct route.
I followed a well-defined path south.
At the first fork in the road, I turned right
At the second fork I turned right again, off the road and onto a trail (I’d hiked a total of 1.15 miles at this point)
I hiked west for a few yards, and then came across a trail junction. I continued heading straight
I was now on the trail that heads south/southwest up the hillside. This is also where I ran into a porcupine. Porcupines don’t run, but we noticed each other while we were about 3 feet away from each other: He quickly turned and waddled away in the dark, showing me his full backside of quills as he did so.
I continued on this well defined trail
Here’s your first glimpse of V3. Look carefully, the arrow points to the exact summit, which you won’t see again until you’re there.
After hiking for a total of 2.25 miles and 11350’ I came to a small water crossing over the trail, and a meadow to my right. I left the trail and headed through the meadow. It was still dark, and there was a camper with a bright headlamp getting ready for the day. He was confused why I was ‘off trail’ and tried to direct me back to the proper trail. I assured him I was going in the right direction, apologized for walking so close to his campsite, and nicely told him I didn’t expect to find a trail to the summit.
I was now in a meadow and basin. There were wildflowers I couldn’t yet see in the dark, and willows I kept encountering. I found out the hard way to stay right to avoid the willows. The path is obvious in the daylight. Here’s the route I took.
And some step-by-step pictures of my way to the saddle, first hopping across a small stream
Staying right to avoid the willows and ascending a small gully that still had snow. Microspikes were helpful here, both on the scree and snow.
At the top of the gully, I was now in a rocky upper basin. I crossed a boulderfield and headed towards the saddle.
Here’s a look at the last bit of hiking to the saddle
Once on the saddle I turned left and followed the ridge southeast, staying to the left of the snow.
At the top of this area you can see the crux of the route. Now is a good time to put on your microspikes and helmet, if you haven’t already. It’s much steeper than it looks, and the scree isn’t manageable without microspikes (trust me on this one).
Here’s your intended route:
You’re aiming for this gully. The scree here is steep; a 45 degree angle for an extended amount of time.
Once at the base of the gully the class 4 climbing begins. The route is obvious, curving around to the right. There is really only one way to go: follow the trail set out for you from the fallen scree. Also note: the scree and rocks here are loose. Very loose. I wouldn’t attempt to upclimb or downclimb this area with another person: take turns the entire way up and down. You will be causing screevalanches on climbers below you.
Here are some pictures from the inside of the gully. Pictures do not do the steepness justice (although the pictures down give you a better perspective). When heading up, continue climbing southeast.
Here’s a look at the exit of the gully
At this point it became even steeper. I did not have on my microspikes, lost grip, and slid on my stomach backwards for a full 12 feet. I seriously thought I was going to slide all the way back down that gully. I braced myself, and without taking off my pack located my microspikes in my backpack pocket and gingerly put them on while trying to balance without much traction. It was much easier to upclimb once I put on my spikes. Here is where I aimed
I then turned right, and hiked south towards the summit block.
I made it to the base of the summit block and was surprised to see a pine marten. He sat there and looked at me. I tried to get a picture, but he quickly turned around and all I got was a picture of his tail and backside. Why are all of my wildlife pictures of animal butts?
Ok, now, don’t let this summit block scare you: yes, you can upclimb it, but you can also skirt it to the left and follow it around and have a class 2 trek to the summit, which is what I did.
I summited V3 at 7:15am. There was a lot of smoke in the air from far away fires this morning.
V3:
I was surprised there wasn’t a summit register, so I left one. It was obvious this peak does not get a lot of visitors.
I kept my microspikes on for the trek back down, which seemed easier than the trek up. Here are some pictures of the way back down the gully. Once again, do this one person at a time, and when you’re done, head far away from the gully, as the rocks will slide and they will pick up speed as they do so.
Once out of the gully, the scree-surfing will begin. It’s always fun when you can ride the same pile of rocks all the way down the hillside.
Scree Surfing:
Here’s where you’re aiming. If you’re doing this with another person, you should be standing far away from the rockslide area while they’re ascending/descending. I’ve circled a good place to stand out of the way.
And now to hike down the ridge to the saddle, and exit the basin.
I made it back to the meadow, marveled again the wildflowers, and saw the group of campers were almost done taking down camp (I guess the man I talked to this morning was part of a larger group). I made it to the trail, turned left, and followed it back to the trailhead.
I made it back to my truck at 9:45am, making this an 8.29 mile hike with 3542’ of elevation gain in 6 hours.
I’d already been away from home a few days before this trip, so I stopped at Ouray Hot Springs to get in a quick workout and a shower (they only charge $4 for a shower, which might be nice if you’re hiking around Ouray and want to freshen up every few days). The only downside? The parking was terrible, even on a weekday in the morning.
After cleaning up I drove to the Rock of Ages Trailhead. The drive in was a bit bumpier than I remembered, but also fun, because I was seeing what Miles (my new Tacoma) can do. He handled the stream crossing and ruts in the 4WD road without needing to be put into 4WD.
I made it to the trailhead and was the only one in the lot (another good thing about arriving on a Thursday).
I walked around for a bit, and immediately realized the mosquitoes were going to be a problem. I’ve ordered a topper for Miles, but it’ll take up to 3 months to get here, so until then I’m sleeping in the back seat of the cab (It’s a tight fit but luckily I’m small). I made the decision to get to bed as soon as possible. I ended up waking up several times during the night because I was so warm, but at least waking up ended one of my nightmares: a dream about sharks in a swimming pool swallowing children whole.
Ok. So, I woke up and was on the trail at 4:15am. The route starts at the south end of the parking area, and follows a well-defined trail south.
I quickly came to a gate, and walked around it.
Next, I saw this sign to my right, and continued on the trail
I followed the trail to treeline.
Shortly after making it to treeline I came to the Elk Creek Trail junction. From here there are several options, but your main goal is to make it into the basin. You can follow Elk Creek Trail and lose some elevation, then follow a faint road into the basin. Or, you could continue along the Rock of Ages trail and eventually hook up with the 4WD road that enters the basin from above (a bit chossy, but I chose to take it on the way out). On my way in it was dark, I couldn’t see any of these ‘routes’, and I chose to just head straight into the basin.
If you take the mining road, here’s what the entrance looks like from the Rock of Ages trail. It’s about half a mile past the Elk Creek Trail junction, on your right.
If you take the upper road, this is what the junction from the trail to the road looks like
In any event, I made my way into the basin. Here are the routes. To the left you can see the mining road, and to the right you can see the abandoned dirt road. They both lead to the same place. (On my way in I didn’t see either of these roads and just headed south through the basin).
Once in the upper basin you want to gain the ridge. This sounds easier than it turned out to be. It’s “choose your own adventure”, and on the way up I chose wrong. I ended up getting into some class 4 scrambling, which was unnecessary. It’s my advice to do PT 13540 first, and gain the ridge to the left (southeast). However, all areas here ‘go’, if you’re willing to do some scrambling. When I made it to the ridge I found thick wire cording going where the red line is (I’m guessing that could be used as leverage if needed: it wasn’t moving anywhere). I ascended via the orange line. The dotted orange line is probably a better route. The best route is my descent route (pictured later).
I’ll spare you the scree-y and large-loose-rocky gully details of ascending the ridge. Once on the ridge I turned right and followed the ridge southwest towards Fowler. The ridge was all class 2
If you haven’t already, now is a good time to put on your helmet. Here’s a picture of that cable I was telling you about. It goes up and over both sides of the saddle.
Here’s an overall view of the rest of the route to summit Fowler.
And step by step: It started out chossy as I ascended the ridge
I made my way to the gully to the left/middle. This area had more solid rock, but it was littered with scree/rubble. At the base of the gully I took off my pack and decided to go up with just my cell phone (and a summit register in my pocket, just in case).
This is the class 4 part of the climb, and lasted for about 120 feet of vertical gain. I started by going straight up the gully. Here’s my route:
Step 1: ascend the chimney. I went to the right of the chimney, and found adequate hand/foot holds.
Step 2: Once above the chimney I stayed to the center of the gully. This is also where I saw an anchor set up (circled in red).
If you decide to rappel here, bring a new anchor, as this one looks like it’s been here for a while, and what’s been added to it doesn’t look recent either.
Step 3: From the anchor I continued straight up the gully (still class 4)
Step 4: Here’s a view of the last bit of the gully, before topping out. This felt class 3
At the top of the gully I turned left and headed towards the summit. It was a bit of a false summit, but all class 2/easy 3
I summited Fowler Peak at 7:45am
Fowler Peak:
I sat and enjoyed my views of the Wilson/El Diente Traverse for a few minutes before heading back.
There was a summit register, but it was one of those tube ones. It hadn’t been closed properly and all the papers inside were wet, so I left it and also added a new register with dry paper to write on. And a new pencil. Here are some pictures of the trek back to the saddle
Back down the gully
To my stashed gear and back to the ridge.
I followed the ridge over to PT 13540. This was a simple ridge hike, if a bit loose. Lots of rocks here. I stuck mostly to the ridge the entire time, only dipping to the right a few times when necessary.
I summited PT 13540 at 9am
PT 13540:
I worked my way back towards the Fowler/PT 13540 saddle
Once at the saddle there was what looked to be a boarded-up mine. In fact, it looked like everything here had been blown up at some point, except this area, which was strategically filled with large rocks (but may have been blown up too). I passed it and headed northeast back to the old mining road
This area was steep, and I did some scree surfing, but it was much easier to navigate when compared to the route I took to ascend the ridge. I saw tons of mining trash here: lots of old cans and pieces of mining equipment, most of which were in small pieces, all made out of cast iron. This was the most intact item I came across
Here’s the route I took down from the ridge (I’d recommend ascending this way as well)
Once back on the road you once again have options to exit the basin. You can stay high, to the right/east, and follow the old mining road, or you can stay low and left/west, and follow an old dirt road.
Here’s a better look at both roads. Both take you out of the basin, and back to Elk Creek Trail / Rock of Ages trail (If you take the mining road all the way to the Rock of Ages trail, turn left and follow it to the Elk Creek Trail junction, and then continue following the Rock of Ages trail).
Once back on the trail I followed it through the trees northwest, back to the trailhead.
I made it back to my truck at 11:15am, making this a 10.53 mile hike with 3985’ of elevation gain in 7 hours.
It was still early, and quite warm, and the mosquitoes hadn’t magically disappeared overnight. I had a friend meeting me here at 6pm to hike Wilson Peak tomorrow, so I’d planned on staying at the trailhead until he got there, then heading to bed. I’d brought a lot of things to do, but they all required sitting down, and once I did that the mosquitoes swarmed me. It was like one would find me and sing its song to its friends and there’d be dozens to shoo away.
If I was outside I needed to have a jacket on, but it was hot! I tried sitting in my truck with the air conditioning on, but that wasn’t going to work for 7 hours straight. It was kind of funny watching the mosquitoes (and flies!!!) swarm my truck: they seemed to know I was in there with the air conditioning on.
So, I entertained myself for the next 7 hours by reading. I got out my current book (On the Road by Jack Kerouac) and read while steadily walking around the trailhead in circles. Continuously moving seemed to keep the mosquitoes at bay. Luckily, the trailhead has a large parking area and I was the only one there. Every few hours I’d take a break in my truck, and then get out and read again. I would have started a campfire to shoo the bugs away, but they’re currently banned. I can’t wait to get the topper on my truck! It would have solved the mosquito/heat problem.
This is the third time I’ve been to Maroon Bells this month. I was able to secure 3 separate permits, and the past few weeks went with friends to summit North Maroon and Pyramid. Today I was here to tag a new 13er for myself: PT 13631. Since I70 is now open (it was closed due to fires) I was the only one driving on HWY 82. I didn’t pass one vehicle between Granite and Aspen. It was awesome. I did see 2 vehicles parked at a trailhead near Independence Pass, and two scruffy porcupines to go with them, merrily munching on the wires underneath. The owners of those vehicles were not going to be happy when then made it back to their cars. I’d have gotten out and shooed them, but, you know, they may be slow but they have quills. I saw three other porcupines waddling along the highway as I drove. HWY 82 is popular among porcupines.
As I passed the parking structure for Maroon Bells I saw a pear shaped bear butt running away from a trash can and then jump over a fence. It was cute to see it bounding away (although I kind of wanted to get a picture so I wished it had stood still for a second).
I had a permit to park at Maroon Bells from 12am-4:30pm. It was 1am when I arrived and I felt it was still a little too early to head out so I took a quick nap. A large group of hikers passed by at 2:40am and woke me up, so I was on the trail by 2:45am.
The trail starts at the west end of the parking area
And follows a well-defined path around Maroon Lake
At the end of the lake I followed the trail towards crater lake. I noted the signs: One said “bear activity in area” as of August 23 (August 1st had been crossed out) and there was also a sign saying there was a moose in the area. In the last few weeks I’ve seen a bear standing on the side of the road while taking the shuttle ride out and a moose standing in Maroon Lake, so I knew these signs to be true.
This is a class 1 trail to Crater Lake
I turned left at the junction for Crater Lake
And then followed the trail (still class 1) around the ‘lake’ and up the basin.
I passed a few camping areas while it was still dark. In one a large man was standing by the trail, bald, shirtless, and in possession of a rather hairy pot belly. He seemed to be waiting for me to pass by. Luckily this is a well-travelled trail, especially at this time in the morning when others are looking to summit Maroon Peak (I count the flashlights so I know who’s ahead of/behind me when it’s dark out: that large group of hikers wasn’t too far away). I could see him because he had a headlamp shining from his forehead. I didn’t see his dog, who started barking at me as I neared. Of course, I jumped. The man seemed to think it was funny. I continued on. Also, it wasn’t funny. Here’s an overview of the next few steps, as I made my way up to Len Shoemaker Basin
After hiking for 4 miles from the trailhead, and at 10515’ I left the trail to cross Maroon Creek (which at this point of the year isn’t flowing much, but earlier in the season is several feet deep). There are cairns in the area. An obvious trail picks up on the other side.
I followed this trail for .25 miles, until I saw a cairn to my left and then followed a very faint trail east through and then out of the willows, and up the side of the mountain, towards the basin.
Making it to the basin required ascending a series of gullies. I’ve been here several times, and the route gets easier to find each time. This time there were plenty of cairns indicating the way. However, the route sometimes doesn’t seem like it should follow the cairns, but trust me, it does. Here’s the route step by step into the basin. After exiting the willows and crossing a small boulder field there is a faint trail behind the next set of bushes/willows that will lead to the first gully. Now’s a good time to put on your helmet.
I ascended the loose gully, staying to the right for more traction
At the top of the first gully you’ll see another gully to your left. (These are tons of fun in winter BTW, so bring your crampons and ice axe if you expect snow). Ascend the second gully, this time sticking to the left for more stable ground
At the top of this gully is… another gully. Sorry for the hand in this picture: the sun was at an unfortunate place in the sky while I was trying to take pictures and this was my solution.
From here I aimed for the grassy slope and went behind it, angling towards the ridge
And could see another gully to my left. (This entire time I was heading east)
Next, I aimed for the grassy slopes, and the final gully that would take me to the upper basin.
Here I got my first view of PT 13631. I just followed the basin south towards the end
The end of the basin was still holding some snow. This was a light snow year, so I expect there’s snow here almost year-round. The snow can be avoided, but I just walked over it into another basin
I followed the talus rib towards the base of the gully that would lead me to the saddle of Lightening Pyramid and PT 13631
This is the last gully of the day. It’s class 2 but the scree is loose. I looked for larger rocks whenever possible. There is no direct path but there are a bunch of game trails. No area seems to cliff out, so you can pick your line depending on conditions.
At the saddle I turned right and headed southwest up the ridge. Most of this was easy scrambling, after first initially gaining the ridge. To do this I went right, found a class 3 chimney and ascended it. This was the most difficult part of the entire hike, and I probably could have found a class 2 option around this if I tried harder. I felt this chimney was pretty easy.
Here’s looking up at the chimney. There are plenty of hand/foot holds. It’s only about 8 feet high and all of the rocks are stable.
Once on the ridge I scrambled my way to the summit. This is all easy class 3, just scout around for the best route.
The summit is relatively flat. There’s a summit cairn with two summit registers. The metal one is closed and has 2 pens inside. The white one is open (without a lid) and is empty. Bring some paper if you want to sign this register.
I summited PT 13631 at 7:20am
PT 13631:
The views were great, but the smoke from nearby fires shaded them a bit.
Here’s the route back down the ridge
Down the chimney (you can see my trekking pole below for reference)
And back around to the saddle.
Once again, great views
Back down the gully and through the basin
And back down the gullies, following the cairns west along the way.
Through the willows
Back to the trail that would lead me across the creek
And back to West Maroon Creek Trail 1975 and Maroon Lake
When I was here last week there’d been a moose standing in the lake. Guess what? He was still there (this time lounging by the lakeshore). Pretty cool!
I made it back to my truck at 11:45am, making this a 14.93 mile hike with 4584’ of elevation gain in 9 hours (with some time spent ogling the moose).
Here’s a topo map of my route. I have to say, the views were incredible but the peak itself was kind of a letdown. It had just been too easy, when I’d been expecting the more intense scramble over crummy rock the Elks are known for. It almost wasn’t worth bringing my helmet, but the moose was an added bonus.
After summiting Cirque and Gilpin it was still early in the day and the weather seemed to be holding so I decided to try and get one more bicentennial in. I drove down from Yankee Boy Basin to the junction with Governor Basin Road and took that 4WD road all the way up to Governor Basin. This is a narrow road and 4WD but luckily I only had to pass OHVs.
Originally, I parked at the top of the hill and started walking down into the basin, but when I saw other vehicles parked below I got back in my truck and drove all the way to the bottom.
Here’s an overview of the entire route:
From the parking area I crossed a small creek and followed the 4WD road.
When the 4WD road intersected with a small waterfall/drainage I turned right and headed northwest up the side of the mountain
This led me to a faint game trail that brought me around the mountain
There was a neat cave here that looks like it used to be a mine but now belongs to an animal (hence the game trail)
I rounded the corner of the mountain and Mt Emma came into view
I walked across the basin, crossing a small area of firm snow, and then continued hiking up the scree filled gully
This gully was very loose and for every two steps I took forwards I took a step back sliding down scree. I tried to stick towards the larger rocks when possible because they afforded me more traction hiking up.
Towards the top of the gully the scree changed to rocks and I did a little scrambling to gain the ridge.
Once on the ridge I turned right and headed northwest towards the summit towers, putting on my helmet as I went.
There seem to be endless ways to summit Mt Emma from this area, all class 3 and above. I summited by going right first, up a small gully and then back down another before ascending a third to summit. I took a different, more direct route on my way back. These gullies ranged from bare, solid rock walls to being filled with soft sand. Microspikes helped here. I wore them until I made it back down to tundra later in the day.
Route on the way in:
Back down another gully
And back up a third gully
As soon as I went up this last gully I could see the summit
That had been easier than I’d expected. I snapped a picture, took two giant steps towards the summit, and felt it: Zzzzzzp! Zzzzzzp! Two quick buzzes just under my helmet accompanied by a tingling sensation. Even though I’d never felt this before I instantly knew what it was: indication of an imminent strike of lightning. I was just feet from the summit but I immediately turned and bolted for the gully I’d just ascended.
Well, that was unexpected! Sure, there were clouds and mist all around me, but none of the clouds looked threatening. As I sat there in the gully, looking at the summit just a few yards away, it started graupeling. Then raining. Then graupeling again. I sat and considered my options.
I could hike back down the mountain, but as soon as I left these gullies I’d be exposed for the rest of the hike. I did not want to be the tallest thing above treeline. I licked my finger and held it in the air to test the wind and watched the clouds: the storm was moving away from me. I looked all around and no, the clouds didn’t look menacing (even though it was raining all over). I decided to sit and wait the storm out. After about 30 minutes of sitting on the summit, not seeing any lightning or hearing any thunder, I tried again.
I quickly left my spot and scrambled the last few yards to the summit
I summited at 2:15pm. I was still very scared of lightning and instead of taking the time to set up my camera I took a selfie with my cell phone and a very quick summit video. That’s a nervous smile by the way: I still didn’t completely trust the weather and wanted to get out of there.
Mt Emma:
Despite my earlier plan of taking the time to check out the conditions of the peak for tomorrows hike I didn’t spend more than 30 seconds on that summit. I quickly turned around to head back. Circled in red is where I’d spent the past 30 minutes waiting out the weather. This is also the access point to the gully I descended on my way back.
From the summit I could see a more direct route back through a different gully and decided to take that route down. It’s still class 3, but you can see your objective the entire time. I went back down the last gully I’d ascended
And east towards the small saddle
Here’s looking back for those of you who want to ascend this way (I’d recommend doing so, it’s entrance is to the left of center of the summit area)
Back on the saddle the weather looked to be improving. I found the access point and headed back down the gully.
While descending I stuck to the areas of dirt and scree. My microspikes helped tremendously. At times the scree would give way and there would be sections of 10 feet or so where all of the rocks would loosen and slide together for a few yards. At one point my leg became buried in scree past my shin. My shoes had so much scree in them I had to take them off and shake them out twice before making it to the bottom. Tons of fun!
I retraced my steps out of the basin back down to my truck
The small waterfall/creek/runoff is a great visual for how to make it back to the 4WD road
I made it back to my truck at 3:10pm, making this a 4.48 mile hike with 1861’ of elevation gain in 3 hours (including the half hour spent waiting out the weather). It was raining as I made it back to my truck. Here’s a topo map of my route
I’m kind of liking this ‘work from home’ thing that’s been going on for the past few months. Today I had a zoom meeting I attended at a Starbucks and then I was off to the Yankee Boy Basin (which I considered an appropriate place to spend the 4th of July weekend). The road to Yankee Boy Basin is easier than I remember. It’s only 4WD for the last mile or so. There’s a little bit of exposure but the road is plenty wide enough to pretend it’s not there.
I arrived at the trailhead and backed into a spot near the bathrooms (P.S. bring your own TP).
I got out and took a look around at the route I intended to take while it was still daylight. I was pretty sure I wanted to hit Cirque Mountain first, and then cross over to Gilpin Peak. Everything is different in the dark and a good visual in the daylight is helpful.
While I was looking around I heard a couple talking about Mt Sneffles. I went over to ask if they’d seen any snow on Cirque Mountain/Gilpin Peak while hiking. They were staying the night at the trailhead too, climbing Teakettle in the morning. We struck up a conversation and ended up exchanging beers and candy and 14er stories and caps full of whiskey. About an hour later two more of their friends showed up and we huddled around my truck as it rained a bit. When the rain stopped, they went over their gear and practiced some rappelling. They allowed me to tag along. I ended up calling it a night really early (I get up at 3am to work and get tired early in the evening). I’m sure I forgot to say it, so I’ll say it now: It was really nice getting to meet you all! Also, I will never be able to hear the word ‘traverse’ again and not say it twice @climbingcue, @dwoodward13, @hikesingeologictime, & @tallgrass!
I woke up at 3:30am, hit snooze once because I was really warm in the bed of my truck. I was ready to go a little before 4am. Tallgrass came to say goodbye and good luck. I was still groggy (I don’t wake up until about an hour into a hike). Thanks for the beer Tallgrass! I started by following the 4WD road northwest.
After hiking for almost half a mile I turned right and followed the small ridge up to the saddle of Kismet and Cirque.
The trail eventually narrowed and I went up a low flowing waterfall type gully
And then followed the scree filled gully to the saddle. All snow was avoidable.
At the saddle I turned right (east) and followed the ridge. Note, the point on the right isn’t a ranked peak. It’s easily bypassed by a trail to the left. I climbed it on my way back just to get in some added elevation and for the views.
I picked up my pace here because it looked like I could make it to the summit for the sunrise. Wow, that part of the hike hadn’t taken as long as I’d anticipated.
There was some choss and a chimney to climb. I put on my helmet and worked my way up.
There was some route finding for the last little bit as well as some easy scrambling
I summited Cirque Mountain at 5:45am
Cirque Mountain:
I made it a few minutes before sunrise and decided to stay to enjoy the show. It didn’t disappoint.
I also had some great views of Teakettle and Potosi to the southeast
I headed back the way I’d come, and decided to summit the small point and then head back down the gully
I didn’t go all the way down the gully. Instead when I hit tundra I turned right and headed west until I reached a small pond.
At the pond I hooked up with the Wrights Lake Spur trail and followed it until the first switchback.
Right about now it started to rain. I looked back on Teakettle and thought about my new friends hiking up there. I hoped they were staying dry.
The trail was an easy to follow, class 1 trail. At the first switchback I left the trail to continue heading west towards the saddle. There was a little bit of snow to contend with here so I put on my microspikes and walked across.
At this point I could see there was a gully I’d have to ascend that was still holding a little bit of snow at the top
Once on the saddle I followed it south. On the ascent I made the wrong choice and tried to ascend directly up the gully. This got me onto very loose, chossy terrain and took me longer than necessary to figure out. The rocks were the size of toasters and none of them were stable. Large sections would move below me at a time, taking me with them. On my way down I found a better route, so I’ll describe that route here.
From the ridge, dip down to the left to go around this first obstacle
Next, hug the area where the snow meets the rock. I’m pretty sure there’s an actual trail here under the snow
From here I’d wanted to ascend directly up the gully. DON’T DO THAT. Instead, try to make it as close to the ridge as you can
At the small saddle there was snow to contend with (a lot more snow than the pictures suggest). Glad to have brought my ice axe and crampons (something I do on every hike I don’t have beta on) and got to work kicking in steps and climbing over the snow. There was probably 30 feet worth of work to do over the snow at its narrowest point.
At the saddle I sat down to take off my crampons. From here it was a short trek to the summit, after first going over a false summit. This was all class 2, but I kept my helmet on.
I made it to the summit of Gilpin Peak at 9:30am. It was lightly snowing.
Gilpin Peak:
Here’s a look at the route I took out the basin from the summit
I turned and headed back over the false summit and headed back to the saddle
Because I’d already kicked in steps I made the decision to put on microspikes instead of crampons to go down the snow. This was a bad idea, but I didn’t realize it until I was already too committed. I made it down the snow safely, but I was shaking as I did so: crampons provide much more stability than microspikes (duh) and I wasn’t very stable on the downclimb. I relied a lot on my ice axe.
Here’s looking at the ridge back down
I re-crossed the snow below, this time without traction: I boot-slid my way across much of the snow.
I made it back to the trail and there was a family standing there, waiting for me. There was a mom and dad and grandparents with 6 kids who all had to be under 10 years old. They’d been watching my descent, and the father asked if I would show the kids my gear (crampons, helmet, ice axe). The kids were fascinated with the equipment, and proudly told me they were hiking to the lakes. I wished them luck and was on my way.
After making it to the pond I followed the class 1 trail above Sneffles Creek until I made it to a road, and followed the road back down to my truck.
Just before making it to the road I passed what I thought was a trail register. I opened it and found one of the most confusing maps ever! Not only did it not correspond with the visual direction of the peaks, north was at the bottom. This map is going to get a lot of people lost.
I passed a jeep that had gotten stuck. Everyone pitched in to get her un-stuck.
It was easy to follow the 4WD road back to where I’d parked my truck
I made it back to my truck at 11:15am, making this an 11.1 mile hike with 4382’ of elevation gain in 6 hours, 15 minutes.
I still had plenty of time left in the day, so I decided to drive to the next trailhead and attempt another mountain.
I made it to the 1 vehicle trailhead early the day before after hiking another peak in the area. I had a lot of time to kill before heading to bed for the night and enjoyed every minute. The Cyclone Creek Trailhead is located at 10750’, where the Cyclone Creek and CR 240 meet. It’s located 8.25 miles after turning onto CR 240 from HWY 50. The road is 4WD (not too rough, any stock 4WD should be able to make it).
Since I made it here early I decided to check out the area. The trail starts just on the other side of the road, but isn’t marked well. In fact, the sign just says “closed to motorized vehicles”
I woke up at 2:45am and was on the trail by 3am. The trail started out decent, but quickly deteriorated and became difficult to follow.
After hiking for about half a mile I turned right (east) and headed up the side of the mountain. There was no trail here and it was dark so route finding was tricky, especially in the avalanche area (11,150’). I found a small stream and followed it until it went away, right at about treeline
Here the terrain became very, very steep (scree) and at times I crawled to continue moving forward. The wind was intense and cold, cold, cold. My nose started dripping like a faucet and yes, that’s snot you see on the lens at the bottom of the next few pictures. The scree gave way to some of the loosest talus/rubble I’ve ever experienced as I made my way towards the ridge thinking “there has to be a better way to ascend the ridge than what I’m doing, there just has to”. I probably would have altered my course a bit if it were daylight and I could see.
This ridge seemed to last forever, with a few small false summits
I’m not sure I’d ascend Carbonate this way again: I’d instead ascend the ridge to the right (start ascending directly from where I parked my truck). Here’s looking back at the way I ascended. The dotted line is how I’d do it if I were to do this again.
I summited Carbonate Mountain A to frigid winds that just wouldn’t quit. There was a summit register, but I didn’t even try to open it.
I couldn’t feel my lips or fingers and decided I’d just take a quick selfie with my camera and not stop to set the camera up for a better shot. This is also when I noticed the snot on my camera lens and cleaned it off…
I needed to keep moving and I needed the sun to warm things up and the wind to die down. The only thing I could control was my pace, so I kept moving. I followed the ridge north to Cyclone. The terrain was full of loose rocks but was straightforward
This was easier than it looked and didn’t take much time. Here’s looking back at the decent off Carbonate Mountain, and the ascent route up Cyclone Mountain
Somewhere along this route I stopped to put on my balaclava, and things immediately warmed up a bit. Here’s the talus filled final push up Cyclone
There was a summit register but it was open and empty. The wind hadn’t stopped but I was a tad bit warmer. I set up the camera, but only took one shot. This is what I got
Here’s the route to Grizzly Mountain. I was especially concerned with the area circled in red, as that’s the scrambling section and I was worried it had some snow I couldn’t see from my view atop Mt Aetna yesterday.
It looked good from this angle. I kept going, looking for possible bail out routes should I need one. I descended Cyclone Mountain, which was once again composed of steep and loose rubble
The rest of the trek was on more stable ground as I headed towards the traverse.
Here’s looking back on Carbonate and Cyclone
From the beginning the traverse over to Grizzly Mountain doesn’t seem that intimidating
But as soon as you round the first corner things get interesting. I began by sticking to the ridge
But that quickly became impossible. The rock here is very, very loose, large, and ready to fall. There are tons of rock-filled gullies and route finding can be tricky. I stayed to the left of the ridge the entire time because the right side was full of varying amounts of snow. I definitely experienced some class 4 sections. Here’s the way I went:
Here things got spicy, as I encountered a gully with several options for descent. There seemed to be three possible lines. I felt the safest route was the middle route and aimed for the snow
It’s steeper than it looks. Here’s looking back at the route I took. I’m thinking it was about 35 feet of downclimbing
I continued to make my way down towards the snow filled saddle. Luckily it was firm and easy to cross. I breathed a big sigh of relief when I made it here, but the dangerous part wasn’t over yet
Here’s an overview of my way to the saddle (looking back on my route)
The rock was still loose and I had to be careful to triple check every hold so as not to dislodge a rock. I went slowly here, carefully choosing my route.
Here’s the final route up Grizzly. The terrain became more stable as I continued, but the rocks were always loose
I summited Grizzly Mountain at 9:30am.
Grizzly Mountain Summit:
Here’s a look back at the ridge traverse as seen from the summit of Grizzly Mountain
While on the traverse I’d studied my intended route down. I was able to avoid most of the snow to head down into the basin.
While avoiding the snow I instead descended on scree and loose rock: I wasn’t sure which was worse, the ascent up Carbonate or the descent down Grizzly. I took it slow to avoid rolling an ankle and headed towards the basin. Here’s the route out:
I did have a little snow to contend with, but only for about 100 feet or so. The conditions were perfect to cross without traction.
Here’s a look at the rubble
And a look back at my descent route.
Once in the basin I knew I wanted to stay just to the right of the trees and follow the creek back to my truck. There was supposed to be a trail here, but I was unable to see it from above. Either that or it was under one of the dozens of small streams of water. What I hadn’t known until I’d made it down into the basin was the ‘dry’ area between the trees and the creek was actually a boggy mess! The mountains were melting out. It was impossible not to get my feet wet. For a while I tried hiking in the trees but the snow was just soft enough to make postholing miserable and snowshoes overkill. So I stayed in the marshy area, following game trails through the willows. I even saw two elk bounding away from me as I sloshed along.
I passed an avalanche area (not the same one as in the morning) and rounded a small boulder field, always keeping the creek to my right
In this area I was almost done with the hike but somehow I came across an actual trail and followed it back to my truck.
I made it back to my truck at 1pm, making this an 8.75 mile hike with 4090’ of elevation gain in 10 hours.
Looking from Mt Aetna, here’s an overview of the route
After summiting Vestal Peak I changed in my truck into new hiking clothes. I re-braided my hair, ate a packet of tuna and drove to Maroon Lake. It rained the entire 5 hour drive there and I was seriously worried my hike in the morning would be in danger. Originally I’d planned on hiking, taking a day off to rest, and then hiking again on Sunday but the weather forecast for Sunday called for 80-90mph winds so I decided to alter my schedule a bit. I was not impressed with the rain. It was raining when I fell asleep in the cab of my truck but I thankfully I awoke to a clear, starry sky at 2:30am.
The parking lot was full of both hikers and photographers eager to get a glimpse of the fall colors. I debated going back to sleep for a few minutes but in the end decided I should probably get going. I was on the trail at 3am.
I followed the trail to Crater Lake
And then followed the West Maroon Creek Trail until I’d made it 3.7 miles.
This trail is so much nicer to walk when there’s no snow! Route finding was negligible
After 3.7 miles I crossed the West Maroon Creek (which didn’t have much water)
And headed east through the willows
Until I reached the base of the slope to the first access gully. This was difficult to figure out in the dark: The last time I was here the willows were completely covered in snow and I just climbed right up, but today those willows were taller than I was.
At the top of this gully is another gully
And at the top of this gully (you guessed it) another gully
Now the rocky gullies started including areas of tundra
Now I was almost to the upper basin.
Once in the upper basin the sun started to rise and I had a good view of “Lightning Pyramid”. Traditionally you climb this peak as a couloir climb in the winter/spring, but obviously that wasn’t an option for me today and I’ve already been here in winter conditions: I wanted summer. I headed across the rocky basin, aiming for the couloir.
This next part in italics is personal and has no relevance on the trip report. Feel free to skip it if you’re just here for route information.
I’m going to summarize this as quickly as possible: I don’t consider myself to be an overly religious person. I grew up in the church but no longer attend (please don’t invite me to your church: I have personal reasons for why I don’t go). I do believe in God and find him more in the mountains than in a building surrounded by people. Often when I hike I have conversations with God. I do most of the talking, but surprisingly I started to feel him talking back (rarely, but it happened). I’m going to be honest here: If someone told me God spoke to them I’d think they were daft, so I totally understand if you think that of me, but I think what I’m going to say needs to be said (for me at least). Also, once again, I’m not a ‘preachy’ person and will most likely never mention anything like this again in a trip report.
For some reason I’m a ‘people-pleaser’. I have a need to be liked and I go out of my way to be friendly and helpful. I feel I need to be ‘perfect’. I don’t do well with rejection. I’ve always been an avid hiker but started seriously tackling peaks after I got a divorce. My ex had supervised visitation of the kids one day a week and on that day I’d go hiking. After my 13th summit of Pikes Peak I met someone on the way down who asked me which other 14ers I’d done. My response: “What’s a 14er?”
Obviously I was immediately hooked and after about 20 14ers I was hiking and talking to myself/God about how amazing Colorado and the mountains and hiking (etc) are and felt God speak back to me. He told me to hike all of the 14ers in Colorado solo. This idea intrigued me: I was both excited and scared. I wasn’t sure I could do it. Also, I didn’t really know why I should?
After hiking about 30 14ers solo I was sitting in a Girl Scout board meeting and Girl Scouts had just partnered with The North Face. We were brainstorming fundraising and marketing ideas and suddenly it all became clear: I could be the first woman to solo all the 14ers! Girl Scouts focuses on first women to do ‘stuff’. We could market this jointly with The North Face, the girls would get exposure to outdoor experiences and(hopefully) some free gear. It all seemed clear now: This must be why I was doing this! I felt I had purpose and direction.
I was so excited when I summited all 58 14ers solo because I felt I was doing it for a cause. Anyone who follows the 14ers site knows what a disaster that turned out to be, and honestly I just wanted it all to go away.
I kept hiking because I like to hike. On my first centennial after finishing the 14ers I felt God telling me to keep hiking the rest of the centennials solo and I balked. Once again, I wasn’t sure I could do this (hello class 5?) but after mulling it over I was willing to give it a shot. I knew I’d write up trip reports and post them to my website because that’s what I do, but he told me to keep posting to the 14ers site as well (I did not want to do this, but I did).
If you were to ask me why I was hiking all of the centennials solo I’d tell you I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know, but I also wouldn’t have told you it was because “God told me to” because then you’d think I was totally nuts. But that was why I was doing it: Because God told me to.
Then Thunder Pyramid happened. At first I was confused because I knew I’d summited, and then embarrassed, angry, and frustrated. Why was this happening to me? Not only were people commenting on the 14ers site, but they were going through my LinkedIn page and challenging my accomplishments, posting negative comments on my website, facebook, and Instagram (sorry David for ghosting you: I honestly thought the feeling was mutual). People unfriended me both online and in person. They made up reasons to ‘prove’ I was lying and if they couldn’t find negative information they assumed or made it up. The dislike button was hit on my trip reports and I took it all very personally.
The hardest part was just because they were loud didn’t mean they were right. I knew I wasn’t lying but I couldn’t change their minds. I’m also sure they think their behavior was justified. I think it bordered on harassment. It was definitely bullying.
So here I was, halfway to the summit of PT 13,722 and all of this was going through my head, in addition to the anti-climatic day I’d had yesterday when I’d finished hiking the centennials solo and didn’t ‘feel anything’. I was asking God why I just couldn’t get excited about finishing the centennials solo? I didn’t want to post anything on the 14ers site because I didn’t want to go through the drama again. I mean, I know I shouldn’t care what other people think about me…
That’s when it happened. As soon as those words went through my head everything stopped and suddenly it felt as if I was getting the biggest, warmest, most enveloping hug I’d ever had. Overwhelmed I broke down and started crying big crocodile tears, taking huge breaths in and out between sobs.
That was it: I wasn’t hiking for a cause or to help others but because God wanted to teach me a lesson. He wanted me to realize it doesn’t matter what other people think. He just chose to show me that lesson through something I love: hiking.
“Wow” I thought: “He had me hike all the centennials solo to teach me not to care what other people think”. A simple lesson we teach out kids and that everyone knows but that I have difficulty accepting. This moment was so powerful I got out the altimeter/compass on my phone and took a picture of where it happened. I thought about just saying it was at 12K but ultimately figured that diminished the experience.
I wiped away my tears, looked at the mountain in front of me and thought to myself “So, if it doesn’t matter what others think of you why don’t you just turn back and go home?”
The answer? “Because I Love to hike”
With light shoulders and a renewed purpose I started off again. It took about 10 steps before another thought overcame me: “Why did God think I needed to learn this lesson? What is he preparing me for where I need to be ok with not caring what other people think about me?” (I squinted and closed my eyes, crossed my fingers and repeated: Please not politics, please not politics, please not politics).
Ok, moving on…
I trudged up the talus towards the couloir. This talus was nasty and each step hurt my ankle (not sure what I did to it yesterday, but it felt bruised). I made it to the base of the couloir and had a decision to make: How was I going to ascend this thing? It looked like it contained (more) nasty scree, so I decided to take the rocky rib to the right. This is the route I took:
I need to stress this might not have been the safest way to ascend. The rock was extremely loose and I had to check and re-check hand and foot placement with every step. It was sustained class 4 bouldering for a good 1000’ of elevation. It was slow going, but I love bouldering and that’s just what this was.
I stayed closely to the right of the couloir for as long as I could, but eventually I had to enter the couloir for the last part of the climb. This area was very loose and I’d suggest you stay as close to the rib on the right as possible.
Here’s looking back down the rock rib/couloir and into the basin
I made it to the top of the couloir and turned right (south), carefully climbing up the ridge
This was actually much easier than it looks (and easier than the climb to this point). I made it to the top of the ridge and saw an easy path to the summit of “Lightning Pyramid”
I summited at 10:20am
Lightning Pyramid summit:
Ok, now time to head over to my old friend, “Thunder Pyramid”. I couldn’t find a lot of specific information about this traverse, so I had a lot of figuring out to do. I’d heard heading straight up and over the ridge wasn’t fun, and it in fact didn’t look like much fun, so I decided to scope out another way.
I headed back down to the saddle
Once there instead of hiking up the ridge I decided to stay level with the saddle and hike across the right (east) side of the mountain. This was surprisingly easy
Here’s looking back at “Lightning Pyramid”
I stayed at the same level as the saddle until I came to a gully. This area took some careful footwork but little climbing. It may have risen to class 3, but realistically was class 2
Next I came to a gully. This gully was very loose and I kept to the left side for stability, holding onto rocks and handholds in the boulders where available. This felt like class 3
At the top of this gully was another gully. I just aimed for the snow.
At the top of this gully is where the route picks up with the standard route up “Thunder Pyramid”. I turned right (north) and ascended the ridge
The top of the ridge wasn’t the summit however. I took the solid route up, the dotted route down. If I were to do this again I’d take the dotted route both ways because it doesn’t lose elevation.
I summited “Thunder Pyramid” at 12:15pm. It took me just under 2 hours from “Lightning Pyramid”. Unfortunately, most of the pictures I got at the summit I realized were blurry when I got home (still figuring this new camera out)
But I did get one “ok” picture
Thunder Pyramid summit:
Up until this point doubt had crept into my mind: maybe what others were saying was true and I hadn’t really summited “Thunder Pyramid” last time. Maybe I’d ended up close but not exactly there? I’d been in a hurry because I’d been having a Raynaud’s attack and I didn’t take my normal number of summit photos/videos (I don’t usually get videos in winter conditions because it’s a death sentence for me to take off my gloves to operate the camera). So today I walked all over that summit, looked around and confirmed what I already knew: Yes, I had indeed summited the last time I was here. Also, the weather today was absolutely perfect! Those 50mph winds never materialized.
I decided to head back down the way most people hike up. I made my way back to the ridge and down the gully
Check it out! Now I know why it’s called the “White Gully” (Last time everything was white)
The descent down “Thunder Pyramid” was no more fun than the ascent up “Lightning Pyramid”, and considering both the gullies and couloir I’d say it’s probably easier to do Thunder first and then traverse over to Lightning. Also, I know this is usually done as a snow climb, but I felt much safer on the scree and talus than I had on the snow. When it was covered in snow I felt like if I slipped I’d fall and never stop sliding. Here I knew I could slip but I wouldn’t fall very far. This climb wasn’t ‘easy’ but it definitely wasn’t as difficult as I’d anticipated.
Hiking down was like déjà-vu (as it should have been)
I made it almost to the bottom of the gully and turned left
And descended the slopes into the basin
Also, I found a shell
I made my way back to the West Maroon Creek Trail and hiked out, loving the fall colors in the daylight.
There were a ton of people around Maroon Lake when I got there, all enjoying the fall colors. The base of the lake resembles the Snowmass log jam
While the 50mph winds never materialized on the summit(s) today it was really very windy at the lake. I decided to head to my truck to clean up and then watch the sunset. There was a line of cars waiting for a parking spot and I had to tell no less than 50 of them I wasn’t leaving. None of them took it well, but it had been a long day, and I figured I’d earned watching a good sunset.
I made it back to my truck at 5:15pm, making this a 12 mile hike/climb with 5062’ in elevation gain in 14 hours.
I enjoyed the sunset
And as soon as it was over I hopped in my truck to drive home. There was a line of vehicles waiting for a parking spot that lasted for over half a mile down the road. The shuttle had stopped for the day and I drove 2 people down to the bus stop because they’d missed the last bus. They were a nice couple from Georgia who were happy not to have to walk those 13 miles back to their hotel. I hope they enjoy Colorado as much as I do!
Wild Wanderer 