scree – Page 2 – Wild Wanderer

Cirque Mountain – 13,686 & Gilpin Peak – 13,699

RT Length: 11.1 miles

Elevation Gain: 4382’

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 4^th 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.

Carbonate Mountain A – 13,663, Cyclone Mountain A – 13,616, & Grizzly Mountain – 13,708

RT Length: 8.75 miles

Elevation Gain: 4090’

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

And my topo

Lightning Pyramid – 13,729 & Thunder Pyramid – 13,944

RT Length: 12 miles

Elevation Gain: 5062’

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 13^th 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!

Casco Peak 13,905 – Frasco Benchmark 13,885 – French Mountain 13,942

RT Length: 10.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 4549’

I chose this route mainly because I haven’t used the North Lake Creek Trailhead before, and since all the other routes started from trailheads I’ve already used I wanted to try something new. I began at 3am, and when I arrived at the trailhead my truck was the only vehicle in the lot.

The trail begins at the east side of the parking area, heading north-northwest. There had been a recent avalanche in this area but the debris had been cleared off the path and in the dark I couldn’t even tell there had been an avalanche.

After about 1/10 of a mile I turned right at this boulder.

There is no distinct trail here, but if you continue northeast you’ll eventually run into what could have been a trail at one time (or a dried up creek bed).

This led me to a creek crossing that was just deep enough to make it necessary for me to take off my shoes.

There was another crossing just after this one, but it was small and easy to cross. From here I followed an overgrown 4WD dirt road switchbacking up the mountainside.

Curiously there was an old outhouse right alongside the trail, which looked useable.

The 4WD road led to a smaller trail that led to a bunch of dilapidated cabins (I’m guessing there were 3?) and here is where the trail ended.

From here the goal is to head down the hillside that’s behind this cabin (a few dozen yards), cross the creek, and continue west.

However, I was doing this in the dark on my way in and it proved to be more difficult that it sounds, especially the creek crossing. I was unable to find a crossing in the dark due to avalanche debris in all the wrong places, so I once again sat down, took off my shoes, put on my sandals, and crossed the creek. On my way back I noticed snow bridges that were no longer usable, but also a few areas to cross on the rocks.

This part of the hike was actually a challenge in the dark, but simple in the daylight. There was no defined trail here, but many game/social trails. I tried to follow a trail alongside the creek, but there just wasn’t one that was continuous. What made this difficult in the dark were the overgrown grass and downed trees everywhere.

However, if you just follow the creek (staying about 10 yards to the north of it) it will lead you up and out of Lackawanna Gulch and into an unnamed basin. Every once in a while I’d come across what looked like a proper trail, and even a cairn or two, but the trail always ended (usually at a tree or bush or over a cliffside).

Here’s your path through the basin. You’re aiming for a low ridge at the end of the basin. Once again, there are lots of trails here, but I’m pretty sure they’re all game trails. Also, the willows aren’t that high and the ground was mushy with water. This wasn’t fun to cross in the dark, but at least there weren’t any trees to contend with. In the daylight it was beautiful.

I was fully expecting to see some sort of wildlife, especially with all the hoofprints and game trails I was coming across, but alas, nope. From the north end of the basin I continued east on a low lying ridge towards Casco Peak. Knowing there was a lot of loose rock above me I was aiming for the lowest point on the ridge for my ascent. You can basically gain the ridge from anywhere. I took the solid line up, dotted line down.

Before gaining the ridge I passed through some muddy/wet areas

Here’s what it looked like as I was nearing Casco Peak

I couldn’t see much but the sun was beginning to rise, which was helpful. I could tell the scree was pretty bad in some areas, but it looked like there was talus ahead (which I prefer to scree for an ascent) so I headed for the lowest point in the ridge and began the climb. The talus eventually turned to scree just before the ridge.

Ridge gained I turned right (south) and looked at the rest of the route before me

This wasn’t technical in the slightest. I just stuck to the ridge until I came to the base of the summit. Here it became a short class 2+ trek to the top.

I summited Casco Peak at 7am

Casco:

From here the route to Frasco looked straightforward, but let me tell you, that section north of the saddle (named Fiascol) was a rough and loose ridge

Here’s your first look at the ridge

This is a class 2+ ridge that looks harder than it is. It took careful footing but wasn’t actually technical. I mainly stayed to the top of the ridge, dropping to the left or right as needed. Most of the time if I had to drop off the ridge it didn’t matter if I went left or right: both ways went. Here are some close ups of the route

The final push to the top of Frasco is actually longer than it looks, with a small false summit

I summited Frasco Benchmark at 8:30am

Frasco:

This summit had a summit marker (curious, the unranked peak had a marker, yet neither of the ranked ones did?).

To get to French Mountain from Frasco is straightforward: just follow the ridge (named Friscol). I was surprised at how narrow the beginning part of this traverse was.

I descended 250’ to the Frasco/French saddle, stayed left (north) to avoid a snow patch

and then ascended 320’ to the summit of French Mountain.

I summited French Mountain at 9am

French:

From French, here’s a look back on the route from Casco to Frasco to French

It was a beautiful day so I sat for a bit on the summit, enjoying the views before starting my way back.

Here’s a look at the look to Frasco from French

I mainly stuck to the ridgeline. Around the French/Frasco saddle I saw a ptarmigan and a caterpillar I thought was living pretty high

Here are the areas of avoidable snow on the ascent of Frasco from French

After summiting Frasco a second time it was time to head back towards the Casco/Frasco saddle for my descent. Also, it wasn’t lost on me how much easier the route looked coming up from the Halfmoon Creek area: the scree was almost nonexistent on that side when compared to the Lackawanna Gulch side. The decent along the ridge to the saddle was uneventful.

However, I didn’t go all the way to the saddle: Instead I chose to descend earlier because I liked the scree here better.

Here’s a look at the route back down the basin and towards the creek

The scree here was the kind of scree you want to descend, not ascend. It allows you to scree surf, but doesn’t allow for much traction. I put on my microspikes and headed down the slope, sliding one foot in front of the other. I got a quick video: quick because it wasn’t safe to take a video while scree surfing, but I was basically moving down the hillside with the sliding scree. You can see why this wouldn’t be fun to climb up.

Scree:

Here’s a look back up that scree slope from the bottom

and a look at the route out of the basin

Also, the flowers here didn’t disappoint

As I exited the basin and descended into the Lackawanna Gulch I couldn’t help but think how much easier route finding was in the daylight. I wasn’t concerned as much with where I was because I had visuals that told me I was ‘close enough’ to where I needed to be. I could tell the difference between game trails and actual trails (which is much harder than you’d think in the dark).

The hike back was beautiful! I loved seeing the cabins, flowers, trees, and creeks in the daylight. I took off my hiking boots and put on sandals for the last creek crossing. The cold water felt wonderful on my feet! I decided to keep my on sandals for the rest of the trek to my truck (maybe a quarter mile).

When I made it back to my truck at noon my feet were still wet. This was a 10.5 mile hike with 4549’ in elevation gain completed in 9 hours.

Teakettle – 13,815, “Coffeepot” – 13,568 & Potosi Peak 13,793

RT Length: 6 miles (seems fake but I’ll take it)

Elevation Gain: 4168’

This climb was several years in the making. Knowing if I wanted to complete the Centennials (etc.) I’d need to have rock climbing skills I started going to a rock climbing gym once a week a few years ago. While I enjoyed the climbing and the skills I learned helped immensely with scrambling on class 3+ peaks, I didn’t get a lot of experience with actually setting up/taking down ropes and anchors.

I bought books on mountaineering and watched YouTube videos, but there isn’t a lot of information out there on self-belaying/rappelling (I wonder why?). So I turned to friends I knew who rock climbed and picked their brains. A couple even offered to take me out and show me the ropes. I took them up on their offers, and by mid-summer this year I felt confident enough to go out and try this peak on my own. Please note, I’d already gone out dozens of times and set up anchors and rappelled locally, this was just the first time I was going to do so solo and, well, without anyone to help if needed.

I arrived at the Yankee Boy Basin restroom area at 3:30am and was on the trail by 3:45am.

I put my helmet on before I left the truck, and my pack was curiously not as heavy as I’d anticipated. I considered this my first win of the day. I walked about 1/10 of a mile down the road, realized I’d left my DSLR in the front seat and quickly turned around to retrieve it. I’d been a little worried about my bruised tailbone from last week, and while I have a good 5 inch bruise on my backside my pack wasn’t bothering it as I hiked. Second win of the day!

Camera retrieved I hiked northwest along the dirt road, crossing a large mud puddle and turning right.

Note: I chose this route because on a topo map it looked easier. After completing the hike I have my doubts, and believe this is the correct entry point:

The elevation gain begins immediately and doesn’t quit. I headed northwest up a steep grassy slope, enjoying the meteor shower and a herd of either goats of sheep watching my ascent (in the dark I couldn’t tell which they were, but could see them watching me).

The grassy slope turned to large rocks and talus as I entered a basin.

In the moonlight I could see my goal: this steep scree section at the base of the black gully. I’ve lightened these pictures up for detail, but this is where I was headed.

The ascent was a grueling climb over steep scree, made marginally easier when I put on my microspikes. The worst part was getting all those small rocks inside my shoes. I couldn’t help but think I should be wearing gaiters to keep the rocks out. Don’t they make something for this for runners so they don’t get rocks in their shoes? Anyway, the terrain was not ideal in the least: some of the worst scree/talus/etc. I’ve ever encountered. At times I was literally grasping the dirt for traction with my hands.

I exited climbers left out of the black gully. The black gully is class 2+ climbing, and much easier than the scree/talus I encountered before the gully. I was pleasantly surprised with how easy it was to climb.

Here’s a look back down the black gully. You can see “Coffeepot” in the upper left corner

Here’s a look at the route from the top of the black gully

I followed the rock rib around until I came to another gully, climbed up, and turned left

From here there’s some rock scrambling. I kept heading northwest towards the summit tower

Ok, easy part over. Now it was time to get out my gear and mentally prepare for this climb. Looking at the route it didn’t look that difficult. I felt confident I could climb both up and down without needing ropes (ha!). I changed into my rock climbing shoes, put on my harness just so I wouldn’t need to at the top, and left my trekking pole and hiking boots at the base of the climb: no need to carry unnecessary equipment.

Here’s the route up

The first half of this climb was indeed straightforward, but as soon as I crossed over to the ‘actual’ climb things got a little more hairy and I quickly came to the realization I was not going to be able to downclimb if I continued, and if I were to go any further, I would need to fully commit. It was either downclimb now or I was doing this all the way. My legs started to shake so I took a steadying breath and reminded myself I’d trained for this and it was within my abilities. I looked up and steadily climbed to the top, being careful with each hand/foothold I chose. I couldn’t help thinking to myself (over and over again) how much easier this would have been if I’d been a few inches taller. I’m happy with being 5’4”, but at times like this being 5’6”+ definitely would have its advantages.

I made it to the top and looked back down on what I’d done. Woot! I’d made it! I dropped my gear and tried to get a few pictures. This wasn’t working, mainly because the summit just wasn’t big enough. So, selfies it is again. I did get a video and a few pictures to prove I’d summited (you’d be surprised how much some other people care…). I summited Teakettle Mountain at 7:15am

Summit Video:

Oh, and I know that’s not a teacup but an espresso cup. I don’t own any teacups and I was planning on climbing “Coffeepot” today as well, so I compromised (also, this is Teakettle, not Teacup… and btw I do love all those teacup photos, not throwing shade here, just rambling). Mississippi is a nod to family. Also, there may or may not be whiskey in that cup. Ok, there was, but only a sip. I still had to make it back down but still felt a bit like reveling: I’d climbed up without a rope!

Now for the true test: setting up an anchor and rappelling back down. There were several anchors already set up, and while I’d love to trust someone else’s’ anchor (let’s face it, the odds are in their favor here) I didn’t know how long they had been there, so I decided to set my own anchor up and attach it to the ones already in place.

I was worried I’d forget something. Not that I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was at altitude, hadn’t had any food/water besides a sip of whiskey (personal choice on 99% of my hikes to prevent nausea) and had done a lot of physical activity and I didn’t want to mess up here, so I checked and re-checked everything twice and then a third time and made sure to secure my sling(s) before even beginning. Luckily there was a stable rock behind the anchor for me to use during set-up as well.

Anchor all set up I uncoiled my rope, attached it to the anchor, and threw it in the position I wanted for a rappel.

OK, moment of truth. I put back on all my gear, attached the belay device, leaned back and everything held, so I unhooked my slings, took a deep breath, and leaned back. It all went smoothly and faster than I’d anticipated. So much so that I stopped about 10 feet from the ground and played with the side of the wall, pushing my feet off the rocks and bouncing back and forth for a bit before finishing the rappel. Yes, I was pretty proud of myself when my feet hit the ground safely, and even more so after I’d retrieved and recoiled my rope.

After changing back into my hiking shoes and putting all my gear away I figured it was a good time to celebrate: I actually took a full shot of whiskey (now that the hard part was over) and decided to play a bit with the rock formation. It would have been really cool to get one of those pictures with me in the hole, but there was no way I could set up my camera and make it back into position in time, so I settled for one of my shadowselfies.

I spent a lot more time here than I usually would at a ‘summit’ but I was celebrating: This climb had been several years in the making, I’d put a lot of energy and effort into all this climb entailed, and (with the training help of friends) I’d successfully summited solo. I was going to celebrate!!!

After a few minutes of fun I turned and headed back towards the Black Gully. From the Black Gully here’s the look at the route over to “Coffeepot” (and the route I would have taken over to the Black Gully had I not taken the scree route up)

Here’s a look in the daylight back down the scree route up

From the bench below “Coffeepot” here’s a look back at the Black Gully

From here I turned left (east) and decided to check out “Coffeepot”. It doesn’t much look like a coffeepot from this angle, does it? It’s basically a quick class 3 climb over some rocks, and a short class 5.0-5.2 climb (per Roach) up a chimney.

I made it about ¼ of the way up the chimney and realized I didn’t fit with my backpack on, so I retreated, set down my pack at the top of the class 3 part, and tried again sans gear. It was much easier this time and reminded me of when I was younger and would climb through a tree hollowed out by lightning. It was a tight fit but I felt very secure as I twisted around and topped out at the top of “Coffeepot”. I summited “Coffeepot” at 8:45am

Video:

Back down was a bit tricky because I had to go over an overhang to get back into the chimney, but in today’s conditions I felt in no way was a rope necessary (I did hold onto the anchor a bit as I was steadying myself in the beginning, but it wasn’t necessary).

It you feel comfortable at class 4 climbing and are considering trying “Coffeepot” I’d say go for it. Here’s a look at the climbing side of “Coffeepot”

From here I could see Potosi Peak, my next objective.

I was feeling pretty good at this point, having completed two Class 5 climbs. However, this peak actually proved to be difficult because there were some unexpected obstacles in the way. Here’s the initial route down and back up the ridge, over to the corner of the cliffs

From the Coffeepot/Potosi saddle up the ridge was full of very loose talus. I’d encourage you to keep your helmet on for the entire hike, even though some of this stuff is labeled at 2+

The traverse around to the corner of Potosi took much longer than anticipated, but was straightforward.

At the corner I turned left and headed northeast up and over some more loose talus and rocks

And around the south side of Potosi until I came to a gully. This area was well cairned until the gully.

As I rounded the corner and came to the gully I was surprised to find a large mass of snow blocking the route up. This snow was at least 4 feet thick, 30 feet across, and 50 feet vertical, turning the class 2+ gully into a class 3 climb over large, unstable and loose rocks to get around the soft snow.

Here’s looking back down on the snow filled gully area

After the snow there was more class 3 climbing to get to the top of the gully. To be fair, it looked like there had been quite a bit of recent rockfall, including several large boulders.

About 100 feet before the top of the gully I headed up and over this rocky area. The rock is stable but covered in a lot of small rocks, making it slippery to climb. There were cairns here as well.

Almost done, I headed up through more loose talus, through a notch, and turned left for the short push to the summit

There was a bit of snow here, surrounded by squishy mud: the kind that will suck your shoes off if your foot settles on it for any length of time, so I quickly traversed this area to the summit

I summited Potosi Peak at 11:05am

Summit Video:

The summit was relatively flat

I pulled out my phone and checked my tracker. It said I’d gone 3.9 miles so far today and that seemed like a lie. I thought to myself I’d need to delete and re-download the app because last week it had stopped on me unexpectedly during my last hike and now it wasn’t tracking accurately… it must need a reboot.

I quickly headed back down the gully, around the side of Potosi, and back towards the Potosi/Coffeepot saddle. This is where I made my first mistake: I had the option of climbing back up to Coffeepot and taking the traditional way down, or going straight down from the Potosi/Coffeepot Gully. I chose the gully (I’d advise you to instead head back up to “Coffeepot” and then down).

In any event, I made it to the saddle and turned to head down the gully, aiming for the most stable sections of scree, navigating between rock formations

Here’s a look back up at the decent route I took from the saddle

When I got to the base of the rock formations I looked ahead and could tell I did not want to continue straight: The gully turned into a waterfall and I could see snow at the base. It did not look safe. (Solid line). That was ok though because I had beta from a friend telling me I could just traverse over the hillside and I’d eventually run into the trail that led up “Coffeepot” (dotted line). I figured nothing could be worse than the talus on the ascent, right?

Here’s what I was trying to avoid

Let me tell you, this beta was FALSE! Even though it looks like you can traverse over, you cannot. Well, I did, but went through a lot of very sketchy terrain. Visually it looks like you can cross on tundra the entire way but there are rock gullies you can’t see from here, and in fact can’t see until you’re right up on them. Yes, I checked beforehand it looked like it went on a topo, but on the ground it wasn’t working. There were gullies everywhere that were extremely difficult to cross. Every time I made it over one I’d encounter another. I didn’t even feel comfortable stopping to take pictures. It was frustrating because I could clearly see where I needed to be, I just couldn’t get there. Please don’t take this way. It looks like it goes, and maybe it does in winter, but it wasn’t safe. My advice is to skip this decent route all together and hike back up to “Coffeepot” and then down. It took me a lot longer than it should have to descend, and there were many times I almost turned around and retraced my steps back up to the saddle (which I was very close to doing before figuring out the route). Oh, and there was graupel involved. I was ecstatic when I finally did link up to the ascent route and made my way down to the parking lot.

Here’s a look from the road at the route I don’t advise you to take

I made it back at 3pm, making this a 6 mile hike/climb with 4168’ in elevation gain in just over 11 hours. And yes, my tracker was correct (it just felt like so much longer due to all the elevation gain).

All in all, I considered today a great success: I’d summited Teakettle solo, tagged “Coffeepot” and Potosi, and learned a lot about trusting someone else’s’ beta. I drove the 6 hours home, took a bath, and then took my daughters out to a late dinner to celebrate my oldest being home from drum corps and my youngest completing her first week as an upperclassman.

North Apostle 13,869 & Ice Mountain 13,960

RT Length: 10.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 4000’

I seriously debated on whether or not this hike would even be possible today: I had to be home no later than 2pm because that’s when Troop 2393 was meeting at my house for the Reach for the Peak survival competition. They train all year for this, and as their coach I didn’t want to disappoint them by making them late to the event. I did the math and figured if I started hiking at 1am I’d make it back just in time. It meant hiking and route finding for a long time in the dark, but I felt this was within my abilities.

I left my house at 10:00pm and drove to the trailhead. It took longer than anticipated on the 4WD part of the 390.2B dirt road due to running water (not a big deal) and mud puddles (looked bigger in the dark).

Parking was at the Lake Ann / Clear Creek / Huron / South Winfield 4WD trailhead. I didn’t make it to the trailhead until 1:15am, but I was on the trail by 1:30am. I set my alarm for 7am as a turnaround time. There’s plenty of parking at this trailhead.

The trail begins at the south end of the parking area, and follows the Lake Ann Trail

The beginning part of this trail is easy to follow on a wide path

At this junction stay left

And enter the Collegiate Peaks Boundary at about .6 mi

If it had been daylight I would have been able to see North Apostle and Ice Mountain here

At 1.2 miles there’s another junction. Stay left here

I quickly arrived at the next (unmarked) junction and turned right, crossing a creek in the dark on a solid log bridge.

The trail was still easy to follow through the trees. I’d heard there was an avalanche area somewhere, but never saw it in the dark

The real route finding began when the trail ended at the creek

I spent about 15 minutes walking up and down the banks of the creek in the dark trying to find a way to cross, but was unable to find a log bridge (etc.). It looked like a bunch of logs and small trees had been used as a makeshift bridge recently, but it had washed out. I found a few trees, tried to make a quick bridge and realized I was just wasting time, so I took off my shoes and crossed the creek. There wasn’t a moon, but the stars tonight were amazing!

On my way back in the daylight I was able to find an actual crossing that didn’t require getting my feet wet. If you continue along the banks of the creek after the trail ends for about 200 feet you’ll find a large tree that creates a crossing. There’s some walking through the willows to find the crossing. Here’s where I found it:

After crossing the creek I sat down to put on my shoes and then continued southeast up and around to the basin. There was no trail here, so I just had to skirt the mountainside and head up. Also, I saw a flash of light and then it started to rain. Violently. There had only been a 20% chance of rain before noon today, and here it was at 3:30 in the morning pouring rain. I put on my helmet and sheltered in place until the lightening stopped. I was surprised the sky had been full of stars one minute, cloudy and stormy the next.

The rain stopped as quickly as it had started, but now everything was slippery and wet. This part of the hike required about a half mile of bushwhacking through the trees to make it to a waterfall area. There were several game and social trails, but none of them were continuous or led up to the waterfall area. I just kept hugging the mountainside, trekking southeast.

I made it out of the trees to a rocky waterfall area (that was more of a slope than a fall) and rock-hopped up

At the top of the waterfall area there are a bunch of willows and another stream to cross. The stream isn’t very wide, but it’s fast flowing and covered by willows. By getting creative and using the willows I was able to find a crossing area here

Once I crossed the creek I continued southeast into the basin. The only thing that made this difficult was route finding in the dark. I wasn’t able to see the outlines of the mountains, or anything much that was further than 20 feet ahead of me. I could hear rocks falling in the basin, and was glad I had already put on my helmet. I found a few cairns which were helpful to let me know I was on the right track. In the light of day I figured out this area is very well cairned, but in the dark I only saw about 1 out of every 5.

Here’s the route through the basin. I was doing this in the dark, so I just hugged the climbers left side of the basin (southeast)

I rock hopped on solid rocks and then came to a scree section. This scree section actually wasn’t that bad because of the earlier rain: scree provides great traction when wet. The wet rocks were another story: they were slippery and required patience.

I encountered two small patches of snow. I had crampons and microspikes, but after testing the snow didn’t feel they were necessary and just walked across them. I didn’t realize it in the dark, but I was aiming towards a rock ‘gate’. Also, I could hear running water to my left.

Once through the gate I turned left (east)

And gained the saddle between North Apostle and Ice Mountain

Once at the saddle I could summit either Ice Mountain or North Apostle, but chose North Apostle so I’d have a good view of Ice Mountain (class 3) on a class 2 route. Here’s the final push to North Apostle

This as an easy class 2 route that took me less than 15 minutes to complete from the saddle. The sun was beginning to rise

I summited at 6:15am

North Apostle

I turned and looked at the class 3 route up Ice Mountain. I knew I was a little pressed for time: my turnaround time was 7am, and it was already 6:15am. I didn’t stay long on North Apostle and worked my way carefully back towards the saddle, being careful not to slip on the wet rocks.

From the North Apostle/Ice Mountain Saddle the first obstacle was this section of climbing. I stuck to the ridge and didn’t find it difficult

I rounded the ridge and dipped down just a bit to a notch, crossed the notch, and headed up the solid and cairned route up the ridge. My alarm went off. Drat. It was 7am, and I was so close to the summit! I went back and forth in my head a few seconds, realized I’d started later than I’d planned, so surely I wasn’t at my halfway point yet? I could squeeze in another 20 minutes and still be fine, right? My math here was iffy, but I figured I was less than 15 minutes from the summit: I’d find a way to make up the time. Surely route finding would be much easier in the daylight? That would help… right?

Here are some closer pictures

I came to a gully and took the solid route up and the dotted line down. The solid route felt sketchy to me (which is why I took the other way down). I don’t think either was better than the other.

I summited at 7:10am.

Ice Mountain

Here’s a look back on the route up to North Apostle

Ok, had no time to waste so I didn’t stay long at the summit. I decided to head down a slightly different way than I’d headed up.

Before making it to the saddle I found it easier to just begin descending a gully towards the gates I hadn’t seen in the dark

Here’s looking up at the way I came down from Ice Mountain

Ok, time to go through the gate and head back down the basin. This was so much easier in the daylight! I was definitely going to be able to make it back to my truck by 11am.

The running water I’d heard earlier was a trickle of a waterfall down the side of the mountain that was flowing beneath the rocks I was hopping.

I made it to the first patch of snow and misjudged its texture, thinking it would be similar to how it was when I crossed 2 hours ago: solid but soft enough to provide traction. I stepped on the snow and immediately slipped, flailing my arms and flying backwards, landing on my tailbone. That wasn’t snow but ice, and it was solid. It felt like I’d landed my tailbone on a rock. OUCH! I knew as soon as I hit this was not good. I jumped up, glad to find nothing was broken and I could stand, and did what I always do in this kind of a situation: I kept moving. The first fifty yards or so were painful, but then just became uncomfortable and it only hurt when I upclimbed. Eventually it stopped hurting altogether and just became a nuisance. I could tell it was going to bruise and it would be sore for a few weeks, but immediately walking it out seems to be the best policy for me.

All those cairns! I was so glad to see them all in the daylight! I rounded the end of the basin and had a great view of 14er Huron Peak as well as the rest of the route to the trail.

Route finding was much easier in the daylight on my way back down, but still an exercise in bushwhacking and following my compass. At least now I had visuals to help

The only problem with walking through all the grass and shrubs were they were still wet from the rain, and even though I have waterproof boots they were soaked through at this point. I was debating if it was even worth it to take off my boots for the creek crossing (decided in the end it was because stream water dries with a terrible stench) when I saw a felled tree crossing the creek. I crossed the creek on this tree and then walked through the willows a bit by the bank of the creek to eventually link back up with the trail. The rest of the hike out was uneventful and absolutely beautiful. I was able to enjoy the blue skies and greenery without the nuisance of mosquitoes. I saw a pair of hikers about 2 miles from the trailhead, but that was it for people for the whole day.

It had been my goal to make it back to my truck by 11am, and I was able to make it down by 10:40am, keeping me right on track to be home by 2pm so I could take a shower and pack before the girls all arrived. (For those wondering, they won the Eagle Award).

I made it back to my truck at 10:40am and went to stop my tracker, only to find it had stopped on its own 3.7 miles into the hike. I’m not sure why it stopped (maybe the rain?), but I don’t have a track for this climb, so I’m going by my iPhone app when I say it was about 10.5 miles and using the 4000’ in elevation gain as an approximate from topo maps and guide books. This hike took me just over 9 hours to complete.

Grizzly Peak A 13,997 & Garfield Peak A 13,778

1-35

RT Length: 8 miles

Elevation Gain: 3100’

The road past the La Plata Trailhead is 4WD the entire way to the upper trailhead. In fact, I felt the second 4WD portion was easier in many places than the early 4WD portion. Only one area gave me pause, about half a mile from the 394 junction. The dip in the road was bigger than it looked, wasn’t anticipated and caught me off guard.

I parked in a grassy area just before reaching the gate and started out at 5:45am.

The gate was locked and it didn’t look like anyone had driven on the road past the gate in quite a while. This is where the trail starts.

Follow the road west into McNasser Gulch. Almost all of this trail is above treeline, but until you make it to the mine you’re on a trail overgrown with willows.

The mining area is at 12,100’. It’s boarded up pretty well, but still looks neat (and operational?).

The trail in this area gets kind of fuzzy, but it picks back up again directly over the mine (so make your way around it and head west/northwest/right).

From here there is no trail. Head northwest through the basin towards Grizzly Peak.

After rounding the basin and heading northwest (right) you aim for this bump:

The terrain is much steeper and rockier than it looks. The ground was full of loose sand/scree.

Once you make it to the saddle turn left (west and follow the ridge).

This is done by initially sticking to the ridge crest and then skirting the 3 gendarmes to the left before regaining the ridge and following it to the top. Here’s the view looking back at the route so far

There was just a little bit of snow at the top

The rest of the route to Grizzly is only .2 miles. I followed the ridge to the south. There was an established trail here.

The final pitch was loose and made up of bowling ball sized unstable rocks but easy to navigate

Here’s a view from Garfield looking at the route up Grizzly

I summited Grizzly Peak A at 8:10am

17 Grizzly Peak A 13998

Here’s a picture of Garfield from the summit of Grizzly.

To get there you need to re-trace your steps, but not far. Head back the way you came and about 20 steps down from the summit you’ll turn left (south).

I had to do one class 3 move to get down this part of the ridge, and after completing it realized there was an easier way. Here’s the route from the Grizzly/Garfield Saddle

I followed the trail along the ridge and behind point 13,650. After rounding 13,650 (to the right) I followed another trail around the south slopes and gained the ridge.

From the ridge I climbed to the summit (no trail on this part)

I summited at 9:20am

23 Garfield Peak A 13780

I was done summiting both peaks for the day, but from here the route actually became more difficult. I had a hard time finding a decent path off the summit of Garfield. I’m sure it was a height thing on my part. I could tell where I was supposed to downclimb, but it was a class 4 downclimb I needed a few more inches to be able to achieve. This was very frustrating. I had to backtrack and look for an easier way to Garfield’s Gully. Here’s where you’re supposed to leave the ridge

I eventually made it to the saddle. From here you strap on your microspikes and head straight down. There are a lot of trails down, and they all lead into the basin.

This was some of the worst scree I’ve ever encountered. I was so glad I’d chosen to do Grizzly First: there’s no way this would have been enjoyable trekking up (in the snow however it might be easier). If you’ve done the gully on Pyramid or the decent off Bross, this is worse.

It descends 1000’ to a small lake, but just when you think you’re finished with the scree you gain a small ledge and there’s tons more (so don’t get too excited the first time you think the scree’s over).

My advice is to aim (right/northeast) for the rocks near the grassy area. The rocks are stable, where nothing in the gully was. I took the gully and had large rocks tumble down from above me and I had to take cover several times (no one else was out there today, these rocks were just free falling from above). Here’s the route I took (as seen from Grizzly).

28 Garfield Route

When you reach the grassy basin your troubles aren’t over yet. There’s more scree to traverse, or you can choose to downclimb rock ledges. I’d had it with the scree, so I downclimbed the class 3 & 4rock (which led to more loose talus)

Here’s a look back at what I downclimbed

And a closer look at the climbing

Here’s another look at how I came out of the basin. I took the solid orange line (rocks) over the scree route (dotted)

The good news is after this the hike got really easy! I just crossed the stream and followed the basin back to the mine, where the 4WD road picked back up.

Here’s a look back at the basin

1-35

I made it back to my truck at 11:30am, making this 8 mile climb in just over 6 hours

Oh, and the drive home was beautiful!

Maroon Peak – 14,156

RT Length – 14.8

Elevation Gain – 4800’

Today’s peak wasn’t much of a mystery: With 2 left and good morning weather and a finisher already selected, Maroon Peak was my only option. I left my house at 10:30pm and made it to the trail head at 3am. Note: I made it on the first try this time!!! There were several other hikers already in the parking lot getting ready to hike when I got there. I jumped out of the truck to get a head start, putting on my gloves as I walked.

Ugh! I’d brought two left gloves! No worries though, I just turned on inside out: Problem solved!

The best part about hiking this morning in the dark? The (almost) full moon! If you’ve never hiked under a full moon you should. It’s fantastic and amazing and difficult to describe. You don’t need your flashlight, as the moon lights up the trail with a glowing mist. The moonlight was reflecting off the lake and mountains. I so wished I had a better camera to take pictures of the moon and stars. Also, there was a rather loud bird on the lake, which was weird for 3am.

I passed crater lake and did my best to get as far ahead of the hikers behind me as possible. I was about ¼ a mile ahead of the first group of hikers when I got worried: I’d made it to a creek, which meant I’d missed the turnoff somewhere. I should have been going uphill. Drat! So I backtracked and saw a string of flashlights starting up the mountainside. Ugh! I’d lost a good half mile of distance between me and the hikers behind me! Now we were all kind of clumped together. On the way back I took a picture of the junction. Can you tell which way I should go? Let me tell you, in the dark it all looks the same….

This is the way you’re supposed to go

In any event, I politely rushed past them as best I could and was on my way up the mountainside. The trail up to this point was very well maintained and has great signs

But not for long. It quickly turns into a slippery scree and gully trail that goes for 2800’ with some rocks thrown in. In the dark I noticed 3 flashlights ahead of me? Hmmm…. I hadn’t noticed them before? Maybe they’d gotten a super early start?

Your goal is to hike up this

Once you reach the top of the scree and gully trail you’re at a ridge that’s also full of scree and dirt

Here I saw goats. Side note: Last year I saw 1 goat. Just 1, and this year I’ve probably seen 50. Insane!

After I saw the goats the sun started to rise! I stopped for a bit just to enjoy

At the top of the ridge crest I met up with the three other hikers. They’d started at 3:45am from the junction (yes, the one I’d missed) and were impressed I’d caught up with them. We had a great chat, and I was on my way, intent on route finding alone (I like route finding… it makes me feel like I’ve “earned” the hike).

OK, so after the ridge crest this is the next obstacle…

The best way I can describe this is a lot of loose rock, and just keep going up and to the north. There are several routes to the top, but I tried to stick to the “standard” route. Several gullies are involved. But first you encounter a chimney. This was a great chimney to climb: very stable with lots of hand/foot holds

After this just follow the cairns… see them up there? Yes, those cairns.

I kept following the ridge north and came upon the two gullies. I’m not a fan of gullies. Either one of these gullies is climbable, but when I looked at them the first gully looked like it had more stable rock, and the second gully had that sand/scree mixture I dread. I chose the first gully. My instructions said to get a good look at the route you want to take before doing it because once you’re in it it’s difficult to figure out. Those directions were right. Take some time to study the route you want to take before diving in. Here’s the route I took. (I was very happy with this route…)

OK, more ledges and more going north until you hit another gully (big sigh). This gully had a lot of sand and large rocks, but if you hug the right side you have stable hand holds.

At the top of the gully is a notch

Aim for this and turn left. More ledges…woohoo! Actually, I like this type of climbing! These were taken from the way down (so you can see depth with other hikers). The ledges just keep going, and going, and going. Just aim up

Eventually you’ll reach a ledge. Follow that ledge to the summit (it has cairns)

18 Summit Cairns

I was so excited when I reached the summit! The climb had been intense but FUN!!! From the summit I could see Snowmass and Capitol

I took a summit selfie to prove I’d summited

20 Maroon Peak 14156

And headed back down. I saw tons of people coming up as I was coming down! All those flashlights form earlier in the day took on faces. Some people looked more than prepared for this climb, and others looked scared out of their minds. I helped several with route finding. Just for fun, here are a few of the gullies on the way back down

I talked to several more hikers, and just after taking a photo of a group on the ridge lost my phone! I spent about half an hour trying to find it (I did, but backtracking up stinks!)

I made it back to the first ridge and noticed a marmot absconding with someone’s hat and water bottle. Marmots are notorious thieves, stealing everything they can get their paws on. I was surprised someone had left these items without putting something (a rock?) on them to hold them down. It was comical to see the marmot running away with them. Sorry to the owners, the marmot was actually pretty quick and far away from me when this happened, or I would have tried to stop it

I didn’t see any more goats on the way down, but I did see a lot of late and ill prepared hikers. Most had no clue what they were getting into, as they’d just come up for a “day hike”. Water? Check. Anything else (hat, jacket, map, food, sense of direction/upcoming weather etc?) Nope. They didn’t even know climbing as involved. I guess this is how people get into trouble….

Anyway, as I hit the final ridge I put on my microspikes for the scree/dirt descent. I’ve heard too many stories of people slipping here and breaking/spraining a wrist or ankle to take a chance without them. If you don’t use microspikes on scree you totally should! It makes a world of difference: I didn’t slip once!

I was down the hillside in no time and got a good look in the daylight at the small creek crossings

And the Bell Cord Couloir (for those interested)

Crater Lake looked really low…

And check this out!

There were tons of people on the trails today! Tons! I made it back to my truck at noon, making this a 14.8 mile hike in 9 hours.

#4,5,6 & 7 Decalibron 14,148- 14,238 – 14,286 – 14,172

I seriously needed this hike today. I mean NEEDED it. I’ve had so many negative things going on in the past 2 weeks I needed a break from life for a bit. Time to clear my head. It’s a 7.5 mile hike that covers 4 different 14ers, so I was hoping it would give me time to think and process all that’s gone on. I also chose it because I heard there’s a problem with one of the peaks and I didn’t want to get any of my girls into trouble by hiking it, so today seemed like the perfect time.

I woke up at 2:30am and made it to the trailhead by 5:30am. There were already 5 cars at the sign that said “road closed”. I had to do a 30 point turn to get my truck turned around and not fall off the side of the cliff or into the ridge on the other side (notice would have been nice road guys) but I made it.

So the road to the trailhead’s closed. Great. Oh well. That only added about 1.2 miles to the total hike, so that would bring this hike to 8.7 miles. Still doable in the time frame I had. So I got out and started walking up the road.

When I got to the trailhead at Kite Lake there were several groups of people standing around, talking.

UGH! I do not like hiking with tons of people! I hate playing leap-frog, so I looked at the map posted to the board (instead of my instructions/map), took a picture just to be safe, and just headed out at the trailhead.

As I reached the top of a hill I got out my instructions and compared them to where I was. I’d crossed some fields of snow and I wanted to make sure I was on the right track. Yep, there was the old mine. I was good to go.

I went up a snow field, and then was surprised to see a lake? This wasn’t on my map or instructions. Weird.

I got them out again and looked. Nope, no lake on my route. So I called back to a group of girls hiking behind me, asked them which trail they were hiking. The same one I was. Cool! Do you have a map? Apparently not, they’d just been following me. Ugh!

So I took a closer look at my map, and it seemed in my haste I’d started off on the wrong trail. The orange lines were where I was supposed to go, the green is where I actually went. Oh, and the green line trail isn’t in the picture I took at the trailhead, so I didn’t even second guess when I’d started.

Deep breath. I had a lot I could blame it on, but in reality this was a rookie mistake I made because I was in a hurry and don’t like people. Lesson learned. Never again. This added another 3 miles onto my hike (1.5 in, 1.5 back to the original trail, so now I was looking at 11.7 miles). So I quickly turned around and headed back. When I reached the correct trailhead it was 6:40am. Drat! I’d lost an hour of time!

From here until close to the peak I had pretty good signage. I noticed one saying the Bross trailhead was closed. Good to know. I took the Democrat/Lincoln one instead.

The hike up Mt. Democrat was, as I said, pretty well marked most of the way. I passed 2 groups of hikers and luckily we didn’t play leap frog!

At the mile mark I came across the CORRECT mine and continued on.

The trail for most of the way was rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. Unfortunately that often makes it difficult to find the correct trail.

Pikas like the rocks. They were all small today. I took a pikature.

The sun finally came up, I took off my jacket and put on sunscreen. This shadowselfie is actually important.

You see, I’m actually looking at all the hikers on the ridge and snow and trying to get a gauge of where the trail goes. You can note at this time none of those hikers were on the trail (something I didn’t realize until I hiked it myself).

The trail actually goes to the far right, and none of these hikers is even close to it. I found this out on my way back down, but I made it up so it’s all good! These types of hikes often require route finding. As long as you have the peak in sight you’re usually good. When I got close to the summit I found the correct trail and just had a little further to go.

Woohoo! I made it! The summit had no less than 20 people sitting and enjoying a snack.

I had one of them take my picture, offer me some twizzlers (I declined because I don’t like to hike and eat) and took a quick video of the peak. (see all videos below)

Now it was on to Mt. Cameron! I found the trail and went down the summit the correct way. It pretty much followed the saddle and went up the ridge.

Here’s a closer view

This ridge is where it got really windy. I mean really, really windy!!! I’d taken my hair out for the Democrat picture and my fingers were frozen so I couldn’t put it back properly. The wind was having a field day. When I summited Mt. Cameron there was one other person there. He took my picture and I was off.

Oh, but before that, I’d like to explain why Mt. Cameron isn’t an “official” 14er, even though it’s clearly over 14,000 feet.

It’s not official because it does not have enough prominence. A mountain has to gain at least 300 feet off the ridge to be considered an official 14er. So it’s not part of the 14er challenge but I count it as one I’ve summited anyway. I’ll do the same for you.

Once I made it across the ridge I could see the path to the summit of Mt. Lincoln. It kind of reminded me of the moon.

The wind only picked up from here. I took out my hair and tried to brush it (which happened to be a mistake). See?

I was the only one on this summit, so I had to take the summit picture myself by setting the camera to automatic (since the selfie thing wasn’t working). Not great, but not bad, considering the wind and all.

I don’t like to stay on summits long, so I headed down the trail. There were old mines all over the place!

Here’s where it gets tricky. You see, as I was heading down someone pointed out Mt Bross to me.

It looked like it was directly on my path down, and as I hiked further I realized it was. I never saw a sign indicating the trail was closed from this end, so I decided to take it across. I saw Kite Lake from the ridge.

I ended up summiting much quicker than I’d anticipated. I just crested a ridge and was there. So were about 10 other people, sitting in a wind shelter (that wind!) I had one of them take my picture (I’d put my hair into a ponytail by this point, as the wind had actually snapped my barrette in two).

I was only there for about 5 minutes, but I overheard quite a bit of conversation centered around this mountain, but I’ll refer to Rule #1 at this point. Apparently the hike up Bross was all scree. Like, all of it, and that’s how they’d all hiked up. They must have taken an open trail? I asked what the best way was to get down from someone who’d obviously hiked this several times. He recommended hiking back the way I’d came. I really didn’t want to do that since I was already ¾ of the way into the hike and only had ¼ of the way to go according to my map. He said if I went down to where the post was and turned left I’d make it on a trail that would bring me back down. That’s what my map said, so that’s what I did. Two other girls went as well. Apparently this is the trail that skirts Bross and goes around it. Great! Since the Bross trail was closed this must be the one I was supposed to use. Big sigh of relief!

So many trails to choose from! And that looked like a LOT of scree. I mean, a lot of scree! And it was!

Screevalanches all over the place!

I was slipping and sliding the entire way down. It felt as if I was skiing on rocks sideways.

After the scree was this. Lots of steep hiking! OMG, this all seemed pretty dangerous (but doable).

I finally made it down and looked at what I’d accomplished. I hadn’t hiked up that scree, but hiking down was pretty intense! I was glad I’d hiked the way I had!

Then it happened. I was exiting the trail when I saw a different sign than I’d seen when I’d started this hike indicating the Bross trail was closed 1.5 miles up. What the heck?!?!? While I totally appreciate and approve of this trail being closed (it was difficult) it would have been nice if there had been a sign at the top of the trail! I’d seen no signs. None at all. Lots of trails, no signs. Ugh. If it’s a LOOP trail people you need to place signs at the top as well, not just the bottom! I’d seen so many different trails I assumed there’s been more than one to the top and I’d taken one that was ok to take. Hmmmm.

Well, I crossed a small stream

and was back where I’d started. Woohoo!

I made a beeline for the bathrooms, but they were closed? I mean, like locked and with signs and everything. Not cool guys! This ENTIRE trail is above treeline, so there’s no place to pee without everyone seeing (and I mean everyone, as it’s a well traveled trail). If you have bathrooms at the trailhead they should at least be open. I could tell others had been disappointed as well (some people had just “gone” behind the building. Yuck!!!).

I walked the last .6 miles back to my truck and found the trailhead was FULL! This picture doesn’t do it justice, as the 4WD vehicles go on for about ¼ of a mile, then there’s a mile of no cars, and then another ¼ mile of the cars that had too low of clearance to get by. Lots of people out hiking today! See mom, there’s help if I need it 🙂

On the way back I took a picture of some of the flowers I’d seen on the way in but couldn’t get a picture of because it had been too dark. Clovers, Indian Paintbrush, and Columbines were all over the place.

As I was leaving I saw a fox walking towards me on the trail. It was pretty cool because he didn’t dart into the bushes, he just kept walking towards me.