snow – Page 4 – Wild Wanderer

Pacific Peak – 13,965

RT Length: 13 miles

Elevation Gain: 3706’ (From McCullough Gulch lower gate closure)

There are so many routes up Pacific Peak I wasn’t sure which one to take? I ended up making the decision the night before, and decided on the Southwest Slopes because I liked the way it looked best on a topo map (particularly the headwall area). I arrived at the Blue Lakes road and found the gate closed to the McCullough Gulch Trailhead. So I parked at the closed gate, right next to a small stream of water running off the road. I gathered my gear and was off at 2:30am.

About 20 yards into my hike I heard a loud noise that sounded like a large animal slipping and sliding on the scree below the road and to the right of me. Well… at least whatever it was was running away from me. Quickly. The 2WD dirt road to the trailhead was clear, dry, and easy to follow. I was confused as to why it was still closed, since besides some extremely minor avy debris and a short area with water running by the side of the road, the road was clear.

I hiked on this dirt road for 2.2 miles from the closed gate to the start of trailhead. This is where the snow started, and in the dark obscured the beginning of the trail.

For the next mile the snow was intermittent and soft. I’d need snowshoes for about 30 steps, then not need them for dozens of yards, and then I’d need them again for 30 steps or so.

I crossed a bridge

And headed left on a trail (the road ended here)

This is where I put snowshoes on and wore them for the rest of the hike. This is also where the trail finding became difficult. I kept losing and finding the trail and losing it again, so I gave up trying to stay directly on trail and just headed northwest, keeping the creek to my left and the ridge to my right.

At the end of the boulder field I came across a sign indicating the trail kept going straight. Here I turned right (at the cairn) and followed the gully up and to the northwest, avoiding the large boulders

At the top of the gully I rounded the hillside and was deposited below a lake. I walked around the right side of the lake, found the rock rib, and decided to climb the snow next to it to the notch(so I didn’t need to take off my snowshoes again).

Here’s a look back down from the notch

I was at the top of the waterfall area and just needed to turn the corner to the right to see more of the basin

Wow! Lots of snow here! I headed northeast, skirting what was probably a small lake to my left and couldn’t help but wonder how many feet of snow I was standing on top of? Way to go June 2019 in Colorado! You’ve got the snow thing down!

I kept rounding the basin, staying to the right

Once again: So. Much. Snow! I kept heading northwest towards the end of the basin. It’s best to stay high here so you don’t have to regain elevation.

I made it to the headwall. This is the crux of the route, and I decided it was time to take off my snowshoes and put on my crampons. I got out my ice axe and garden tool (haven’t purchased a second ice tool yet). The sun was just starting to rise

I was pleasantly surprised at the conditions of the headwall: continuous snow coverage that was consolidated just right for crampons. It was tiring, but I had no difficulties gaining the top of the headwall. I mentally high fived myself for choosing this route today. Ok, just a few hundred more feet of elevation gain and I was there! I made it to the saddle between Atlantic and Pacific, singing “Home for the Holidays” as I went. To be honest, I that song was in my head for most of this hike. Oh, and that’s a false summit…

There was a lot of snow here, and some of it felt steeper than the headwall

It seemed pointless to summit the false summit, so I skirted the bump to the left and continued towards Pacific.

From here the postholing began. The snow here looks solid, but it hugs a ridgeline and much of the snow underneath has melted away, leaving a hollow cap. At times the cap was thick enough to support my weight, and at others I postholed up to my waist into (or between) large rocks. I have a few bruises from the fun

Still, it was better than hiking with crampons on the rocks (I was too lazy to take them off, so I stuck to the snow)

I summited at 6:45am

Summit Video

Here’s a look back on the route from the saddle to the summit

The wind was intense here, so I decided to head back down. I made it to the saddle and Atlantic looked very inviting. I’ve already summited Atlantic, and I’m on a bit of a time limit today, so I didn’t feel it necessary to summit Atlantic as well (but it was tempting… you should do it!).

I had to stop and enjoy the view from the area just below the saddle (where the wind finally let up a bit). It was breathtaking!

Saddle

From here you can see most of the route back. It’s important to follow the basin and stay close to Quandary Peak on your way out to exit in the correct area.

OK, time to start down the headwall.

The headwall was steep (so steep you can’t see the route down it here), but not as bad as a lot of gullies I’ve done lately. It’s supposed to be 40-45 degrees at points, but I was able to walk down the entire headwall without turning and facing the mountain.

At the base of the headwall I switched out my crampons for snowshoes, but kept ahold of my ice axe. I followed my tracks southwest

Rounded the ridge, and walked out of the basin

The snow was really starting to soften up at this point. For June 21, this is a ton of snow!

I made it down past the rib area without incident, and was just getting ready to skirt the small lake when it happened.

I was stepping off a rock and into snow and immediately my left leg sank and slid up to my upper thigh. I’ve postholed thousands of times, but never experienced anything like this: Try as I might, I couldn’t move my leg. It wasn’t hurt, but my snowshoe was stuck in the snow and keeping me from being able to move my foot and leg.

As I’d stepped on and slid into the deeper snow the snow had immediately softened up and settled like concrete around my leg, making it immobile. I thought to myself “So this is what they mean by not being able to get yourself out of an avalanche because the snow settles like concrete” and got to work. Luckily, this hadn’t been an avalanche and I still had my ice axe in my hand, so I started digging myself out. It took me a solid 15 minutes of work to free my leg. Also, my butt was now wet from sitting in the snow for so long. Lovely. At least no one was around to see.

The hike back to the trailhead was uneventful. In the light of day I was easily able to follow the trail and saw things I hadn’t before, like the log bridges and small pools and the actual trail itself…

There was also a lot of evidence of postholing from previous hikers using the trail. I hadn’t seen any of this in the dark (I’d paralleled the actual trail)

There was a snowbridge over the creek, and the creek was raging!

Stream

Back on the 2WD road I started seeing other hikers. Quite a few of them actually, and I figured they must have opened the gate. Sure enough, they had and there were cars parked at the summer trailhead as I passed.

I still had 2 miles to go however, but on a positive note, I saw a rather scruffy looking fox on my way back

Fox

Yep, the gate was now open

I made it back to my truck at 10:45am, making this a 13 mile hike with 3700’ in elevation gain in just over 8 hours.

Ugh! It looked like some kids had thrown mud at my truck! There was dried mud/dirt on every corner, like someone had used my truck for target practice with mud pies. I was going to have to wash it after picking my daughter up from camp (she’s a counselor at a Girl Scout Camp and off this weekend so I was on my way there now to pick her up). It was a 3 hour drive, and I made it in plenty of time before release. While we were walking back to the truck my daughter said “How did your truck get so dirty?” I told her I it happened at the trailhead this morning. She went and took a closer look, put each of her hands on two of the marks and said “Mom, how big are bears?” That’s when I took a closer look at the blobs and realized no one had thrown mud at my truck: It’d been visited by a bear! I could see swishes of hair and even faint claw marks on the paint. Cool! Maybe that’s the animal I’d heard at the start of my hike? Now I didn’t want to wash my truck! Luckily, I took a few photos before it rained on my way home. I just wish I’d looked at the ground around my truck when I’d noticed the mud… I would probably have seen bear tracks!

Cronin Peak 13,872

RT Length – 11.5 miles

Elevation Gain – 4510’

Today became a ‘Surprise! You’re free to hike!’ day at the last minute, which I quickly took advantage of because I was unable to get out last weekend. Luckily the weather cooperated as well. The 2WD road in to the Baldwin Gulch Trailhead was completely clear and dry all the way to the lower 2WD trailhead.

In the dark I could hear and kind of see Chalk Creek. It sounded like it was raging and looked dangerously close to reaching its banks in some areas. I seriously wondered if it would start to overflow later in the day. I’ve driven up the 4WD #277 road before, and even if it was open I didn’t much want to drive it again, so I parked along the side of the road (in the dark not seeing the lot just before the trailhead) and got my gear ready.

I was on the trail just after 3am.

The #277 Baldwin 4WD road was worse than I remember it from 2017 and I was immediately glad I’d chosen to park at the 2WD area. The road was in full spring conditions, with a river of water running directly down the road.

After following the road for about 2 miles I came across avalanche debris blocking the way. It wasn’t too difficult to navigate around, even in the dark, but it looks like it’s going to be there for a while and vehicles can’t cross the area.

If you do decide to drive up the 4WD road there are 2 camping spots with parking for 1 car each before you get to the avy debris. The last spot is located at 10,530’. It’s also the last place to turn around before the debris. I’d just recommend parking at the bottom and hiking in though, as it’s an easy hike.

After the avy debris the water on the road really picked up. It seemed the creek was overflowing its banks here and I easily crossed through a couple inches of water for hundreds of feet

There was also evidence of moose in the area along the trail, but it didn’t look too recent. I made it to the first Baldwin Creek crossing while it was still dark. I couldn’t see how deep the creek was, but my plan had initially been to rock hop across the creek on the boulders to the left. I got about halfway across and had second thoughts: the rocks were slippery and some were under quickly flowing water. I was going to have to jump to make the last few and would most likely end up in the creek in the process. So I backtracked and thought about what to do.

I don’t feel safe crossing streams barefoot, and I hadn’t brought extra shoes/sandals/socks, so if I was going to ford the creek I was going to have to complete the rest of the hike in wet shoes with soggy socks. This did not sound appealing, and I knew soggy socks would turn into ice socks when I got further up in elevation. I gave my summit a 50% chance of happening if I forded the creek but knew if I stopped now that number dropped to 0%. I decided to go for it. In the dark I studied the water and looked for the safest area to cross. This ended up being close to the mouth of the creek. I put my electronics in my pack, adjusted my trekking pole, and took a step in the water. Woot! My foot stayed dry! The rocks were not as slippery as I’d imagined, but I was still careful and gingerly crossed the stream. I took three more steps before my hiking shoes slowly started filling up with water.

I made it to the other side of the creek without incident. The only casualty was my wet feet. I kept hearing squish-squish with each step I took. This was not going to be enjoyable. Oh well, on I went.

It wasn’t long before I came to the second creek crossing, and since my feet were already wet I didn’t hesitate and just walked through this one as well.

This is where the snow started. Since it was still early morning it was consolidated and I was able to walk on top of the snow. As I continued up the trail I encountered more and more snow.

About a mile after the first Baldwin Creek crossing I turned right and entered the trees, aiming for where I mentally knew the willows area should be. I immediately sank up to my waist in snow, but I’m stubborn, so I had to sink about 10 more times in the next 10 more steps to break down and put on my snowshoes. From then on out I didn’t posthole (much). Oh, and my wet toes were beginning to freeze inside my wet socks.

I didn’t feel like I walked very far before I was in a clearing and could see the willows and the rest of the path before me. The sun was also starting to rise, which was nice. Here’s the route I took, staying out of the trees and going straight up the gully

Luckily there was a small snow bridge over the creek in this area, so I didn’t need to get my feet wet again. I could hear the water rushing underneath, and asked myself if the snow bridge would still hold me this afternoon on my way back?

After crossing the stream I navigated around the trees, sticking to the left (southwest). As it rounded I turned west and followed the gully on consolidated snow.

There are a few options from this point to gain the ridge and summit Cronin. One is to take the north ridge, but the scree here didn’t look appealing. Also, there were goats enjoying their breakfast and I didn’t want to disturb them (but it was mainly the scree that made the decision for me).

So I continued following the gully up and to the left (west)

I still had options for gaining the ridge, and decided the safest option was to kind of parallel the ridge as I gained elevation. Here’s the path I took to gain the ridge

My socks were now frozen. I could feel the ice between my toes, but surprisingly they weren’t cold. I decided not to question it and kept going. Gaining the ridge wasn’t difficult, but the snow was starting to soften up.

I gained the ridge close to the false summit, and could see the rest of the trail in front of me. There was just enough snow to walk on and goat tracks to follow.

From the false summit there’s a little bit of a downclimb and I’d been told it included some tricky footwork, but the snow obscured any difficulties. I postholed here once or twice up to my waist, even with snowshoes on.

The ridge was one long but squatty cornice. I stayed to the right on the snow and walked where the snow met the dirt.

On the final push to the summit the snow got increasingly softer but was still navigable.

I summited at 7am, and set up my camera with my new gorillapod (which isn’t at all what I’d expected: poor quality but gets the job done).

Summit Video:

(For some reason I said Casco, but I was on Cronin. Whoops! Oh well… my fingers were too frozen to try a second time.)

Check out Antero

It was windy and my feet were now solid blocks of ice, so I didn’t stay long on the summit. I turned to look back at the way I’d come

Here’s the route I took back

The snow was warming up quickly so I got out my ice axe. It helped me through some quick sketchy sections

The most difficult part of the day was just beginning. This snow section here below the ridge was rapidly warming and became slippery. I had to walk slowly to prevent slipping, yet wanted to make it down before the sun warmed up the snow even more. I couldn’t believe how soft the snow was for 7:30am!

I made it to the top of the gully area, said hi to the goats, and breathed a sigh of relief: I hadn’t slipped once!

Here’s a look back at the route

And a look down the gully

I made it back to the willows, following the tracks I’d made on the way in. My feet had finally defrosted and I was squishing again. From here I decided while I was hiking through the trees I would aim for the ridge directly in front of me

I made my way to the snow bridge and looked back at the mountain. Cronin looks better in daylight!

The snow bridge still held my weight

Once in the trees I walked northeast until I made it back to the road. I’d overshot my entry point by a few yards, but was pleased with my navigation skills. My toes had almost dried by the time I made it to the first creek crossing. Both creek crossings were much easier in the light of day, and with the added bonus of previous experience I just walked across them both. I followed the road back to my truck, taking pictures in the daylight of the fun I’d had in the morning, my feet squishing the entire way. I made it back to my truck at 10am, making this an 11.5 mile hike with 4510’ in elevation gain in 7 hours.

Chalk Creek hadn’t overflowed its banks, but it was raging! Here’s a picture from further down the road

Bull Hill A – 13,758

RT Length: 7 miles

Elevation Gain: 3775’

I picked Bull Hill because I needed something easy for today so I could be home by noon to meet a friend. The weather forecast was perfect (no wind, 50s at the summit) and I was tired from Friday’s climb but didn’t want to waste a great opportunity to get out and hike.

This was my third attempt at Bull Hill this year. The first time I got turned around before making it to the trailhead due to unexpected heavy falling snow and a road closure. The second time I had no problem making it to the trailhead, but even after a hard freeze I was postholing up to my waist and couldn’t find the trail. I ended up turning around shortly after the creek crossing. Today I learned what a great choice that had been!

The trailhead is easy to get to but difficult to find. It’s located at exactly 12.5 miles down the 82 from Granite. Turn right and there’s a small parking lot that will hold 4 cars if you all play nice.

I started at 4am. From here walk about 10 yards and turn north on an unmarked trail.

This trail is super easy to follow, as it’s an old 4WD road. There’s quickly a stream to cross that gave me some pause in the dark. I couldn’t tell how deep it was and it seemed to be flowing pretty fast. I walked up and down a bit, looking for a better area to cross, but this was it.

I decided I was wasting too much time on this: I had on winter climbing boots, so I decided to just walk across the stream. I started out the hike with wet feet but they quickly dried. The trail followed the stream, and here was where the “fun” began

And by fun I mean postholing. This was by far the worst experience I’ve ever had postholing. Every step I took on snow for about 2.5 miles I postholed. Over and over and over again. I knew this was a possibility going into this hike (it had happened to me last time, even with a hard freeze) and I just gritted my teeth and continued on, sinking to my knees with every step. Yes, I was wearing snowshoes, which helped, but they weren’t needed 100% of the time.

They were needed just enough to make taking them off not worth it

I followed the ill defined (due to the snow) trail to a gully, and took switchbacks up the south ridge. The switchbacks seemed unnecessary.

OK, so postholing isn’t fun, and I was getting tired of it. I came to an unexpected avalanche (although this year they seem to be the norm) and considered what to do?

It looked like this area went straight up the slope, but I wasn’t entirely sure the path was safe, so I continued on for another few switchbacks, the snow getting deeper and the postholing getting more aggressive as I went.

I switchbacked over to the gully once again and took another look.

This time it looked like it went all the way to the mine, and the snow in the gully was very consolidated. It didn’t take me long to pick consolidated-snow-gully over postholing-switchbacks. Yes, this was the way to go! I turned to look back over my shoulder and thought this was a cool view of La Plata and Ellingwood Ridge

I took the gully until it met up again with the road below the mine. The road here was covered in snow, but not a lot of the surrounding terrain had snow.

I stopped for a bit at the mine to rest. My quads were killing me! That type of postholing had been the 4 letter word type of postholing. I was not looking forward to a repeat of that on my way down. After applying sunscreen (yes, I did get sunburned on Friday’s climb of Thunder Pyramid) I took a look at my next step: To gain the ridge in front of me. I decided it was best to keep my snowshoes on and looked for a line that would get me to the ridge

There was just one rocky area to climb over

And by looking left I could see the rest of the route before me

This was by far the easiest part of the entire day. The slope was gentle and had enough snow for me to keep my snowshoes on.

The only downside was a false summit that took me by surprise, but it was close to the actual summit so I didn’t mind too much.

I summited at 7:45am

Summit Video:

I was amazed at how calm everything was! There wasn’t any wind, which was amazing. This is the first summit this year I haven’t needed to wear snow clothes to hike, but where there was still a ton of snow!

I turned to head back down, making sure to stay right (the ridge to the left goes the wrong way and has a massive cornice, but they look similar, so stay right)

Halfway down the slope I made a new friend! Ptarmigans have great camouflage.

From the ridge here’s a look back down at the mine and the route I took back to the gully

There was a busy marmot running to and from its den

I decided to have a little fun at the Last Chance Mine, just because I could and I knew I had postholing to look forward to (ok, I was stalling)

Doesn’t it look like a lot of fun?

I again followed the snow covered road back to the gully

And hiked back down to where I’d entered the gully earlier

I briefly considered taking the gully all the way back down to the stream, but wasn’t sure if it went the entire way. I found out it didn’t, so if you plan on taking the gully instead of the switchbacks you need to wait until the last set (see map)

The postholing was actually a little better on the way down because I could re-step in my previously made postholes, which meant more stability. The creek crossing wasn’t too bad in the daylight. My feet got wet again but I was close to my truck and warm socks so I didn’t mind.

I made it back to my truck at 9:30am, making this a 7 mile hike in 5.5 hours: I blame it on the excessive postholing and the Last Change Mine. You should be able to complete this hike in much faster time.

Relive:

Rosalie – 13,579 “Epaulie” 13,537 West Pegmatite Points 12,227

RT Length – 14.5 miles

Elevation Gain – 5920’

Sometimes hiking in the Spring is similar to hiking in the summer, in that you still need to be off the mountain before noon to avoid encountering storms, but spring storms tend to include snow. Today’s forecast called for 70% chance of snow after 12pm so I decided to get an early start. I arrived to what I thought was the trailhead around 3:30am only to discover I was not in fact at the trailhead. You see Google couldn’t find the Deer Creek trailhead so I just set it for Deer Creek Campground and figured I’d find the trailhead from there. I made it to the campground, drove through, and took a dirt road .8 miles only to arrive at a locked gate. I figured this was the trailhead so I found a place to park, got out my gear, and walked to the gate, only to discover this was instead private property, I was being filmed, and there was no public access. OK, so I went back to my truck and tried again. It seems you don’t actually enter the campground, but at this sign turn right and follow the road to the end to find the Deer Creek Trailhead.

This is listed as a 4wd trailhead and I agree, much of the year it’s probably a 4wd TH, but today it was navigable by most 2wd vehicles. There was only one short area where it would give me pause if it was raining, but I’m confident most 2wd vehicles can make it to the trailhead today. It’s located on a well maintained road with several overflow spaces for parking along the road itself.

I made it to the new (actual) trailhead and in the dark couldn’t tell if I was seeing snow or mud or rocks so I just parked as near the entrance as possible for easy exit. I was the only car in the lot when I arrived and when I left, despite this being a Friday (oh, and the parking lot was dry, so I could have parked anywhere).

The trail begins at the west end of the parking lot. I knew I was at the right area immediately because I saw this sign

And within a quarter of a mile I saw this bridge. I hadn’t been expecting a bridge, but I crossed it and continued following the dry trail

This is a well maintained class 1 approach, but in the dark I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up navigating around a bunch of downed trees. I discovered on my way back I was taking an old trail that was closed due to said downed trees, but in the dark the obvious trail wasn’t so obvious. So, if you’re hiking in the dark note: If you come to an area that’s not passable in the dark stick to the creek. There is an easy trail to follow, (as long as you don’t lose it…)

I crossed another log bridge in the dark

And came to a junction. Here you go right and take the Tanglewood Trail (not the Rosalie trail, even though you’re going to Rosalie).

Shortly after this junction there’s a trail register. A permit is required to hike here. It’s free and you just fill out the information. It just lets you know what Leave no Trace is and asks you follow basic trail etiquette. You let them know how many people are in your party and leave the top half in the box. There were plenty of permits and pencils. I filled one out and continued on my way.

I lost the trail once again for a short while when I encountered old avalanche debris, but turned towards the creek and found the trail again. Once again, this was a “my bad in the dark” kind of situation. In daylight there was no issue.

I was now about 2 miles in and the snow began to cover the trail.

Due to the warm temperatures last night I immediately began postholing. What’s funny is I started seeing tracks that looked like moose or elk tracks. I spent a considerable amount of time trying to decide if they were Elk or Moose, but they looked like both? In the beginning they were confined to just an inch or two of postholing, but eventually the animal(s) were postholing knee deep or more as well. I bet they’re looking forward to the snow being gone.

There were tons of tracks and I was confused because some looked like elk and some looked like moose. I figured the area was more conducive to moose as the willows and creek provide their food source, but I was seeing mixed evidence of both. And then I came upon scat. Tons and tons of scat, and it became evident there are both moose and elk in the area, and probably some babies as well.

The snow didn’t stop until treeline, and if anything the postholing got worse. I was stubborn and didn’t put on my shnoshoes until I made it to the willows, where they were absolutely necessary.

Here I again lost the trail but knew I just needed to gain the saddle so I headed west up and through the willows, only sinking to my waist a handful of times. Oh, and did I mention the elk and moose scat? It was covering the floor of the willows; piles and piles at a time. And those buggers make their own trails through the willows, which stop when they look like they go (and vice versa). This is definitely an area they bed down in.

Just heading towards the saddle…

Here’s where I was headed

There hadn’t been much of a sunrise (no alpenglow) but I was pleasantly surprised there wasn’t a cloud in the sky! This was great news, as there were many peaks I was interested in summiting today and it looked like the weather was cooperating. I gained the saddle and turned left to follow the ridge

This ridge was mostly a gentle ridge. I was lazy and didn’t want to take off my snowshoes so I kept to the snow even though it was avoidable.

This ridge is longer than it looks, and the snow towards the middle gets steep (but nothing too dramatic, snowshoes were fine). I just kept aiming towards the next landmark (rock) and hiked on.

I made it to what I thought was the summit only to be greeted with the true summit in the background

I kept going another quarter mile or so to the summit of Rosalie

The summit was rocky and dry. I summited at about 7:50am

Rosalie Summit: Rosalie

I had some great views of a couple of 14ers, but I was headed towards another 13er: “Epaulie”. I could see some clouds gathering in the background and the wind was picking up, but I wasn’t too worried about the weather; I had until noon for snow, right?

Hiking down to the saddle of Rosalie/”Epaulie” I took off my snowshoes and navigated the rocky slope. At least the rocks were stable.

The entire hike to the saddle I kept my eye on “Epaulie” and tried to decide on the route I wanted to take to the summit

Looking at “Epaulie” from here I thought taking the right side would be a good choice since there was continuous snow, but as I got closer I realized just how steep that snow was and decided to head left instead. This ended up being a good choice. Snowshoes and an ice axe were a good choice as well, as the snow was very consolidated, smooth but rock hard, and steep. Here’s the route I took

Towards the top the snow gets very steep and I was thankful for my ice axe the last 50-75 feet or so. And btw, those are very large rocks encases in ice/snow, not dirt.

The summit made for some fun bouldering

I’m not sure when I summited because it was quite windy and I was keeping an eye on those clouds, which were moving in fast! I took a summit selfie with my DSLR and kept my cell phone in my pocket.

I looked over at Epaulet Mountain. I’d wanted to summit this unranked 13er also today, and the weather was looking pretty good towards Epaulet, but those clouds back over Rosalie were worrying me.

I gave it a quick thought and remembered there was a ranked 12er close to the saddle on my way back down. In the end I decided not to summit the unranked Epaulet and to instead head back and attempt the ranked 12er (if the weather held out). I figured it was better to be closer to a bail out point if the weather turned. It looked like the weather was anxious to get started early this afternoon.

I exchanged my snowshoes for crampons for the way down. Again, another excellent choice.

I turned around and re-summited the rocky Rosalie (taking off my crampons for this part)

And looked at my intended route towards 12er West Pegmatite Points.

This looked easy enough, and in front of me the path seemed clear of weather (but clouds were increasing behind me). I headed down towards the saddle and about halfway down felt my backpack give a quick pull, but didn’t think anything of it until about 200 feet later where I decided I should probably check it out. I took off my pack and it was open! Drat! I rummaged around to see if I’d lost anything and only counted one crampon. Ugh… I needed that crampon for Sunday’s hike. I looked back up the slope and saw something blue and shiny up above. That was my crampon all right. I was going to have to backtrack and trudge up to get it!

I made my way back up the slope and quickly discovered the snow was getting quite slushy. It couldn’t have been past 10:30am, yet the snow was melting fast! I needed to get down to that saddle.

I slogged my way to the saddle and was feeling great so I decided to head over to West Pegmatite Points. There is no route, so I followed the ridge up and over as far as it went

Here’s the path I took, right at these rocks

And around them

Up a small slope to gain the ridge

And then across the ridge to the summit. There was a lot of fun rock scrambling but I’d still keep this at a class 2

I took a quick summit photo and the wind told me my half of hair had come undone sometime on the hike. I was getting strands hitting me in the face, so I quickly re-braided it and without another hair tie just used one to secure both braids. I’m sure I looked amazing…

A storm was coming in from the west, and while the above picture doesn’t suggest a storm, right about now is when it actually started snowing. Just little bits that flew in my face, but I knew more was to come, so I quickly gathered my gear and headed back towards the saddle, aiming for the rock outcropping.

From the saddle I put on my snowshoes and just headed down through the bristlecone pines and willows towards the creek I knew flowed in the trees.

When I made it to the willows I actually found the intended trail and was able to easily follow it all the way back down. It’s amazing how much easier route finding is in the daylight!

I kept looking for those elk/moose, but feared I was making too much noise in my snowshoes and was probably frightening them all away. The snow picked up and felt absolutely amazing on my face! I was flushed and seriously considered putting my face in the creek just to cool off (but didn’t…). Yes, the trail was much easier to follow in the daylight, and I never came upon those downed trees that stumped me before and actually crossed a stream I hadn’t on my way in…

I made it back to my truck at 1:30pm and checked my stats. Whoa! I’d been expecting a 10 mile hike with about 4700’ in elevation gain, yet I’d done 14.5 miles with 5920’ in elevation gain In 9 hours! The best part was I wasn’t even that tired (which I attributed to the relatively “lower” elevation of these 13ers and 12er when compared to the other 13ers and 14ers I’ve been doing lately: breathing at altitude goes up exponentially and tires you out!)

Here’s the Relive: Relive

Oh, and there was a small snowbridge to cross just after the snow begins, which was questionable. It doesn’t look stable and didn’t feel stable either. I crossed it in snowshoes so if it broke I’d have stability in the water, but be careful with the rising temperatures crossing these things!

Also, I was glad I had microspikes, snowshoes, crampons, and an ice axe for this hike. I kept changing them out (and at times didn’t wear any of them) but felt good having them all. Oh, and postholing is never fun!

Trinchera Peak – 13,517

RT Length: 10.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 3741’

I changed my mind several times before setting off on this hike. This is not the peak I’d wanted to do today, but after some last minute research I realized the one I really wanted to hike isn’t achievable this time of year. So I was bummed, but also glad I hadn’t attempted the peak just to have to turn back (that’s happened to me too many times this year as it is).

I arrived at the winter closure at 4am, surprised to find there was a winter closure? I was under the impression the winter closure was the Blue Lakes Campground, but here I was, faced with a locked gate 2 miles from the lake. Oh well, this was supposed to be a short hike, so I welcomed the added mileage.

I parked at the picnic area and was the only one there when I arrived. I’m not sure this area gets much winter use.

The dirt road up to the campground is a well maintained 2WD road. It was clear of snow in places and covered in a few feet of snow in others. It’s going to be a while before the FSR 422 road is opened this year.

Once I made it to the campground the snow coverage really picked up. Now the tricky part was trying to find the trail in the dark.

I’m sure this is a well maintained trail in the summertime, but it didn’t look like anyone had been out here in months, and certainly not since the last snow. At times the trail was obvious because there was a clear path through the trees, but most of the time I had to just keep heading southwest up towards treeline, making my own trench. There seemed to be several switchbacks.

Once at treeline the rest of the route became obvious. I found a path between the trees

And then gained the ridge and followed it up

I took a shadowselfie because I could, and turned and watched the sun rise over West Spanish Peak

Once on the ridge I started to get worried. What I thought was going to be a very easy hike now included an unforeseen obstacle: a HUGE cornice covering the entire summit. At least it looked stable.

The closer I got the larger the cornice became

I tried my best to find a route up that didn’t include the cornice, but that just wasn’t going to happen, so I aimed for the route with the least amount of danger. Sticking to the left I thought I could avoid most of the cornice and climb straight up a wall of ice. Here’s the route I took

The snow kept getting steeper and steeper, and the last 50 feet or so I continually used my ice axe and wished for my helmet. I just kept looking ahead and plugged in my ice axe, repositioned myself for stability, and hauled myself up. The last 10 feet were brutal, but I was able to hoist myself up over the lip of the cornice and found I was on a lot of solid snow with a windblown summit just beyond.

I summited at 7:30am. I tried not to get too excited about what I’d just done as I took a few pictures

I’d intended on summiting a few other 13ers today (Leaning South Peak, Leaning North Peak, and possibly Cuatro) but the extra miles I hadn’t expected from the winter closure meant I was behind schedule and unfortunately, the snow was warming up. As I was debating go or no-go I looked for a good route towards the other 13ers, but all I could see were cornices blocking my way down. Hmph. Oh well, I’ll just have to make another trip out here: In the summer when there aren’t any cornices.

Oh yeah, I still had to get down this cornice. I took a look over the edge…

Wow, that was steep! Here’s a look at the route from the summit back to treeline

I turned to face the cornice to head back and immediately realized snowshoes weren’t going to cut it on the way down. They’d been great for stability on the way up, but they would be in the way on the way down. I switched to crampons and was immediately pleased with my choice. OK, now to head down. The first 50 feet or so were harrowing to say the least. Wearing snowshoes on firm snow I hadn’t made steps on the way up but they were needed on the way down. So I spent a lot of time kicking in steps, balancing, and slowly making my way down off the slab of ice. I stopped when I felt safe and took a picture. The steepest part is circled

I was thrilled when the crampons were no longer needed and switched back into my snowshoes. I took a second to breathe and looked back at what I’d just done. Wow! Yes, much, much steeper than this picture makes it look. That had been an adrenaline rush!

Here’s the route back down to the trees

The snow was quickly becoming soft and was fun to walk though. I was very, very glad I’d chosen to head back and not summit those other 13ers: it was warming up fast!

Video:

Here’s a look back on the final push

As I hiked down I couldn’t help but think how this looked like a great mountain to ski, yet it was obvious no one had been here to do so in quite a while. There was continuous snow from the summit to treeline and honestly, all the way back to the campground. It seemed a shame no one was out here enjoying the skiable terrain.

I followed my tracks back to the “trail”

And through the forest

I made it back to my truck at 10am, making this a 10.5 mile hike in 6 hours.

Today was fantastic! All I can say is this peak needs more attention! It was a beautiful day, which helped, but when I made it back to my truck I didn’t feel exhausted or even tired or sore. The ice axe and crampon use had been a fun surprise, and the 10.5 miles had spread out the elevation gain nicely so I didn’t feel it much. It’s a shame this peak doesn’t get visited more often. If it’s on your list, you should move Trinchera to the top!

Relive:

Square Top Mountain A – 13,799

RT Length:

Elevation Gain: 3252

I’m going to summarize, but if you’re interested in details you can read the entire story here

After yesterday’s summit I drove 4 hours to the next Trailhead, slept, woke up at 1:30am to 3 inches of snow, snowshoed for 3 miles, postholing up to my knees the entire way, came across an avalanche and crossed it, came to a second one that was impassable in the dark and was forced to turn back. I postholed 3 miles back, got back to my truck while it was still dark and it wouldn’t start, so I scraped 3 inches of snow off the hood, lifted it, fiddled with the battery and was on my way to the next trailhead when I saw a sign for Hanging Lake. I decided to turn my day around and check off an item on my bucket list at the same time! Now: off to my next adventure!

I arrived at the Guanella Pass Campground to a full parking area at 11am. I noticed a group ready to leave, so I waited around and snagged their parking spot when they left. I was hungry from this morning, so I quickly boiled some water and prepped a Mountain House meal. While I waited for it to cook I pulled up the weather report I’d saved from earlier in the morning (when I had reception at a truck stop down the road). Wow. The forecast had changed quite a bit in the two days I’d been mountaineering. The weather for tomorrow was now very similar to the weather right now, except 20 degrees cooler.

I took a bite of the meal while I considered what to do. (Yuck! At this point I was forcing myself to eat, but this was really bad. It tasted… old). It was 11am, and while I’d already done 10 miles and 3000’ of elevation gain today and another 6 miles and 3600’ of elevation gain yesterday, I was feeling pretty good.

OK, so looking at the forecast I can either head out now while I’m tired but the weather’s warm, or try to get some sleep (I don’t have much luck of that at trailheads) and try tomorrow after I’ve “rested”. But it’ll be cold and windy tomorrow. Both days had 44mph winds. I took another bite (disgusting!) and threw the meal away. Those things are nasty!

I made the obvious choice: I was the last one on the trail at 11:15am. I figured I had a 50/50 shot at the summit, but I’d make that choice when I made it to the upper trailhead and could see the conditions/weather first hand. The road was covered in many feet of snow and since it was late in the afternoon I needed snowshoes immediately. I didn’t take them off the entire hike.

The views of Bierstadt, the Sawtooth, and Evans were beautiful, dusted with snow

It wasn’t lost on me I was the only one hiking up the road, while I saw at least a dozen hikers on their way down, finished with their hikes (presumably of Bierstadt). Check out the snow in the parking area!

I followed a hikers trail to the Bierstadt trailhead, then crossed the road and found the trailhead at the top of Guanella Pass.

The trail starts directly behind the bathrooms. Looking at the current weather and trail conditions and measuring my present state of fitness I decided the hike was a go. I searched my pockets for the topo map and route description I’d put together a few days ago and came up empty: I’d left them on the dash of my truck. Drat. Well…. I was going for it anyway.

Here’s the route I took

Those willows though! There are wooden bridges in the area and presumably a trail, but with all the snow I wasn’t able to find either of them. So I trekked through the willows and headed towards Square Top, mindful not to trek too fast lest I fall into a willow hole.

Did you know there’s a trick to hiking through willows in the afternoon when the snow’s soft? It’s quite simple really: Figure out which way the wind blows and hike behind the individual willows. If you hike on top of them you’re violating LNT, so try not to do that (even though that works too) but if you hike behind them you hike where the snow has piled up and is more compact. In front of the willows there’s an air pocket from the snow blowing in the wind and you’ll sink.

So I trudged across the willows, only sinking up to my waist 4 or 5 times and aimed for the ridge.

Every so often I’d look back for a frame of reference, trying to find the bathrooms and remembering my intended route back.

Before getting to the ridge there are several small hills to climb over, which had more snow and were steeper than anticipated

Eventually I came to this sign, and something in my head said to go left here, instead of straight (must have been the prepping I did earlier, because this was correct).

Just for reference, directly behind the sign is a small lake.

So I turned left at the sign and continued to a small saddle and turned right and began my trudge up the ridge

There were no signs, and no cairns (I’d been expecting them?)

I just kept heading up and up and up, and actually started drinking water. For me, this is never a good sign. When I start drinking water it’s just the beginning of everything going downhill. But I hadn’t eaten all that much (2 spoonfuls of that Mountain House Chili and the same this morning of an egg and bacon MH ‘meal’) and I’d hiked a lot in the past 24 hours, so I figured I should drink.

I reached another small saddle and had a pretty good view of the cornices below Square Top

From here is where I started struggling. The wind picked up and so did the elevation gain. I kept sipping water and I even ate some dried strawberries I’d brought along (those were fantastic!). No worries though, I could see my path to the summit and just had to keep trekking. From my views earlier I knew this wasn’t the summit…

But I thought surely the summit was just behind this bump, right? Oh look, a cairn! That must be the summit behind…

I was moving slowly now, and my quads were burning (as opposed to my calves yesterday). I’d take 50 steps, and then stop to rest for 10 seconds, and then continue on

I made it to this bump, thinking surely this was it, but nope, another hill in the distance! Ouch! Ok, now I was down to 30 steps with 10 seconds to breathe. And lots and lots of sips of water. I. Was. Almost. There! I just had to keep pushing on.

I made it to the top of this bump and wanted to curse! Why, oh why was the Lord punishing me? There was another bump and a ridgeline and another summit in the distance.

Well, there was nothing for it. I continued on, thankful at least the intense elevation gain had lessened. Unfortunately the wind was insane here, and blowing directly at me. Oh, and that wasn’t the summit either: This is the summit

Also, it includes losing elevation a bit and then regaining it back. Joy.

Now, this wasn’t a particularly challenging hike, but I was tired to start, and I seriously worked for this ‘easy’ summit. It was cold, windy, and I was sore all over. It was all mental and totally worth the effort!

I’m not sure what time I summited because it was too windy/cold for me to take out my phone, but I did get a few summit photos with my DSLR

I’d originally kind of wanted to make this a loop with Argentine and Wilcox, but I’d already done Argentine Peak earlier this year, and after looking at the elevation gain/loss involved today, this was a big nope.

I decided to turn around and make this an out and back hike.

That wind never let up, and here it knocked me down a few times

(Looking back at the final push to the summit)

I made it back to where I’d originally thought the summit was and got a good view of the route I took up

The route down was steep but felt much better on my quads

This hike was slow going. I wasn’t setting any records today, and I was going slower by the minute. And that wind was causing my nose to run and run and run, making it raw, raw, raw. Ouch!

The wind was bringing in a storm. Here you can see the tracks I made on my way back down to the willows and eventually the upper trailhead area. One of the good parts about descending so late in the day was the snow had begun to re-freeze in the willows area, actually making it firmer than it was on my trek in.

When I made it to the Guanella Pass Trailhead I knew I only had less than 2 miles left to go, but I was exhausted. I followed the road back down to my truck, trying to beat the snow. I lost, and it snowed the last mile of the hike.

That last mile was brutal. My whole body was screaming for me to stop, but it was snowing and I was almost done and stopping was not an option. I did allow myself to crouch down a few times and grunted audibly as I stood up again (I know better than to rest like this, but it felt so good!). During this time I kept telling myself 2 things: I could do this, and there’s a bottle of Knob Creek waiting for me in my truck.

I made it back to the campground at 6:45pm, making this a 10.5 mile hike in about 7.5 hours (But I’d like to add in the past 36 hours I’d done 10,000’ of elevation gain in 26 miles, so my body had gotten quite a workout in the past day and a half).

Relive Video

When I got to my truck there were 2 other vehicles in the parking lot, but they looked like they were from tours intending to be out in the mountains overnight. I took a quick wet-wipe bath and changed my clothes in the back seat of my truck. As I was doing so it felt so good to just lie down. Amazing. Euphoric even. It’s been a few months since I’ve tired myself out this much on a hike and I just wanted to enjoy the feeling. I was numb all over, my body was humming, and I hadn’t even had a shot of whiskey yet. Or eaten. Oh yeah, I needed to do that. So I finished getting dressed and looked at what I had: The uneaten Mountain House meal… 2 uncooked Mountain House meals, a sleeve of saltine crackers, and some Ritz crackers. I was seriously missing my beef jerky! I make an amazing beef jerky that’s my staple on these longer hikes, but my kids raided it and I didn’t have any to bring with me this weekend. Ugh. Ok, Whiskey and crackers it was for dinner. I had 2 shots of whiskey, 2 Ritz crackers, and fell asleep. Only to wake up at 12:30ambecause of the wind, needing to pee. I sat there for 10 minutes trying to fall asleep but it was no use.

OK, I had options again. I could go outside where it was windy and snowing and jump back in my truck, and then spend the next 4 hours trying to get back to sleep. Or I could just get up and drive the 2 hours home now, and take a bath and be in bed by 3am. This meant I’d need to work out tomorrow (a personal rule of mine) but it seemed the better option. I was on the road and home by 2:30am, very pleased with myself. This is why I like hiking solo: I can make these kinds of decisions (like pushing on to the summit or leaving in the middle of the night) and no one has to agree or be put out by them. The only downside? Once I made it home I couldn’t sleep… so I started brainstorming better meal ideas. I’ve got to eat better so I don’t crash, and Mountain House isn’t doing it for me. Apparently I’d rather starve…

Texas Highpoint Guadalupe Peak – 8749’

Elevation Gain: 3155’

RT Length: 8.5 miles

It’s about time I went hiking again!!! This past month has been rough. It was the end of cookie sales, I was in Germany for a bit for work, came back from Germany with the flu (and I NEVER get sick, so I’m blaming it on being exposed to some German type of illness I’m not resistant to) and my fingers are still healing from my last trek up Sherman. What concerned me most really though were my fingers: I developed digital ulcers (yep, those things that looked like blisters under my nails were thick blisters that eventually popped). Now they’re healed but still very raw and the skin on the tips of my fingers is thin and fragile. I haven’t been in the high country because I didn’t want to expose my fingers to too much cold too soon. Oh, and then there’s the historic avalanche danger we’ve had in Colorado over the past 2 weeks….

In any event, I finally had a day to hike and now just had to choose between a 14er and a highpoint. I really wanted to get in one more 14er this winter but with the avalanche danger as high as it is I opted for a road trip instead to a place with zero avy danger

Texas! I was dreading the 10 hour drive and missing out on my potential 5^th winter 14er, but I also have highpointing goals this trip would help, and I felt it best to do this trip before the heat and summer gas prices increased. The only downside was the drive and my tight schedule: My oldest was coaching a guard in the St Patrick’s Day parade at noon, and since I really wanted to be there to support her and take a video I didn’t get on the road until about 1:30pm. Almost as soon as I left I realized I’d left my trekking pole at home, so I decided to pick up a cheap one at a gas station along the way (knowing full well there’d most likely be a few free ones at the trailhead left by others).

I made it to Guadalupe Mountains National Park at 10:30pm… or 11:30pm after the 1 hour time difference at the Texas State line. There were about a dozen RVs parked in the RV lot.

I filled out the self reservation form, parked my car in one of the parking spaces, text my kids to let them know I’d arrived, and got settled for bed. After turning out the lights the full moon gave me a great view of the silhouetted peaks against the night sky. I took a deep breath: yes, taking this road trip had definitely been the correct decision. I was so happy I was here right now, snuggled in my sleeping bag, looking up at the stars.

Now if I could only fall asleep. I usually have difficulty sleeping at trailheads and tonight was no exception. I really just wanted to get started hiking but since it was midnight and it had been a full day it was a better idea to try to get some sleep first. I couldn’t, and pretty soon I got cold. Very cold. It was in the 20s outside but I was very cold inside the cab of my truck, even with double layers of clothing, socks, jackets, a sleeping bag, and 3 fleece blankets. The seatbelt clips were chilly and kept sticking into my back. Note to self: next time bring 2 sleeping bags instead of 1.

The campground was quiet for being so occupied, and as a bonus I only heard a generator go off once (those are obnoxious). I drifted in and out of sleep (mostly out) for the next 6 hours. The moon set at about 3:30am and it suddenly got very dark outside.

I’d done my research, and the sun was supposed to rise at 7:11am. That meant the sky should begin to lighten around 6:30am. I set my alarm for 6 so I could be on the trail no later than 6:30am but when my alarm went off it was still very dark outside. Hmmm. Ok, so I re-set it for 6:15am. Still dark, and again at 6:30. This didn’t make much sense but I felt I was wasting valuable hiking time and I was still really cold (hiking would warm me up). So I got ready and was on the trail by 6:45am. Yep, a bunch of trekking poles had been left by other hikers near the trailhead.

The trail starts at the end of the RV parking lot, just to the left of the information sign.

Another bonus: this trail was very well marked. I just followed the signs that indicated “Guadalupe Peak trail”

The trail was very also well maintained, wide enough in most places to walk side by side with another person, and easy to follow. I quickly warmed up and waited for the sun to rise. I hiked for over an hour before the sky began to lighten. I could see Carlsbad in the distance.

Right about this time I encountered a thin layer of snow on the ground that persisted all the way to the summit. I’d known it was supposed to have snowed yesterday between 2-3pm, and here was the evidence it had.

I looked for tracks in the snow and was surprised to see small deer prints. I also saw a lot of squirrel tracks and some from a small creature (I’m thinking a ringtail?)

Suddenly I heard a low, guttural noise that sounded like ujjayi breathing coming from my left. I stopped to see what it was. It took me a few seconds to realize it had been me (my throat is still recovering from my cold). I cleared my throat and continued on.

Have I mentioned the switchbacks? This was supposed to be a “strenuous” hike, but there were a ton of switchbacks, making it longer than necessary but not too difficult. Here’s a look at the first part of the route

The sun started to rise as I made it to the top of this area, and I could see the rest of the hike before me (there’s actually still about 2.5 miles of hiking left)

Once I’d rounded the first slope there was a cliff to pass, and I was surprised to see a sign that said if you were on a horse to dismount and walk it across.

I was surprised because I hadn’t seen any horse hoof prints or manure on the trail. Usually when they allow horses on a trail it’s littered in both.

This part of the hike took place behind the first mountain so I was able to see the sunrise a second time from a different angle.

I came across a false summit and some camping sites

I rounded the corner once again and saw more switchbacks. Here I could tell the trail went to the left, but it seemed there was another trail to the right. I figured the trail to the right was from others cutting switchbacks and took the well established trail to the left.

The path was lightly lined with snow and just gave way to more and more switchbacks. Would they ever end?

A great view of the valley below

Here’s where the trail got tricky: I was almost to the summit and the path gave way to walking along exposed rock. This in itself wouldn’t be too difficult normally, but the rock was covered in a thin layer of ice, making traction tricky

I couldn’t help but think this section was most likely why I hadn’t seen any hoofprints/manure along the trail: it was too difficult for a horse to maneuver. Then I saw hitching posts and none of it made sense.

Oh well. There was a little bit of a scramble

And then I was at the summit. I thought it was cool to be at the Texas highpoint on St Patrick’s Day when it also had a dusting of snow (apparently snow here is rare, even in winter)

Summit Video:

I summited at about 8:40am and had fun taking photos at the top

21 Guadalupe Peak Texas 8749 3-18-2019

Since this was Texas the summit marker was huge, but interestingly enough didn’t have any mention it was a highpoint or of the elevation.

I’d taken off my gloves to take photos, and this ended up being a bad idea. My fingers felt raw and were beginning to tingle in a bad way, even at this relatively low elevation, so I decided to put back on my gloves and head back down. It turns out that fork in the trail that went two ways was legit. The trail to the right had actually been a maintained trail (the other was the horse trail) so I took that one back down.

In the daylight I could see the parking lot I’d stayed in and just how many switchbacks there had been up this trail

I encountered dozens of people starting their hike as I was nearing the end of mine. Dozens. A ton of college students, families, large groups and individuals out for a day hike. They all seemed surprised I was almost done. I was surprised they’d chosen to hike in Texas during what would now be the heat of the day.

Here’s another look at some portions of the trail (open to horses)

And evidence horses were allowed

One of the interesting parts about this hike was all the very large Manzanita Trees I saw. I haven’t seen so many in such good shape in a long time.

I made it back to my truck at 10:15am, making this an 8.5 mile hike in around 3 hours 30 min

Just for fun, here’s the Relive link. I’m not entirely convinced all those switchbacks were necessary. Relive: https://www.relive.cc/view/2220225056

There are always signs telling you not to cut the switchbacks, but if you don’t want people cutting switchbacks, don’t unnecessarily make so many of them! Personally, I’d rather just take the stairs to the top.

I made it back home at 6pm. That was pretty good time!

Democrat – 14,148, Cameron – 14,238, Lincoln – 14,286, Bross – 14,172, South Bross – 14,020

RT Length: 16 miles

Elevation Gain: 4987’

OK, I know this looks like an excuse to say I’ve hit my goal of summiting 5 winter 14ers for the year by just doing them all at once, but I’m only counting this as 1 winter 14er hike (putting me at 3 for this season… 2 more to go!).

Luckily the Kite Lake Trailhead is only 2 hours from my house so I made it there by 4:30am. Well, almost there. From turning west on Buckskin I was able to drive 2.5 miles on a bare dirt road and got my hopes up I’d be able to drive to the winter closure. No such luck. Almost immediately at 2.5 miles I ran into snow and stopped. Quite suddenly in fact.

It looked like someone had attempted to drive further and decided to back up, so I parked my truck and took a look. I was fairly certain I’d be able to drive my truck through what I could immediately see, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to drive back out after the sun warmed up the snow later in the day. I decided to play it safe and stay parked near the Paris Mill site. This ended up being a fantastic idea.

I put on my snowshoes and other gear and was on the trail by 4:45am. The dirt road in ranged from bare dirt to covered in 3-4 feet of snow. Yes, tt had been a good idea to park where I had. The jury was still out on whether or not wearing my snowshoes had been a good idea (necessary in some places, and not in a lot). I could tell no one had been on this particular trail for a few days (probably since the weekend).

The first mile and a half to the gate went by quickly

It was still dark, and here the wind picked up. It felt like I was in a wind tunnel, and the drifts on the road got deeper. I wasn’t able to see the road most of the way but I knew where Kite Lake was so I just headed in that general direction. It was still dark when I made it to Kite Lake.

From here there was no visible trail: everything was covered in snow and the wind had swept any trace of tracks away long ago. I stayed to the right and came upon a sign. Woot! Last time I was here it was summer, but I remembered there were signs indicating where the trail was. I snowshoed over to the sign hoping to see it read “trail”. Nope, it just said “no camping”. Well, at least this meant I was on some sort of trail and not on the lake. I pointed my flashlight in the general direction I was supposed to go and saw another sign. Maybe this one would say ‘trail’? Nope, ‘no camping’ again. Then I saw another sign (this one ended up saying ‘trail’). You can probably guess what I did from here: I just went from sign to sign until I was out of the basin (by the collapsed mine). Unfortunately most of the signs I encountered said ‘Trail Closed for Restoration’, but this was encouraging because I knew I was going in the correct general direction (and I wasn’t worried I was damaging the trail because I was on top of several feet of snow). Some of the time the signs actually said ‘trail’. Here’s the route I took:

Remember however, it was still dark, so here’s what I was looking at as I was hiking

I made it past the mine and the route started getting very steep. Yes, snowshoes had been a good idea. I got really excited when I ran across a cairn (I haven’t seen one of those in ages!)

Here’s looking back at the slope from my way down later in the day

Now all I had to do was hike up the slope to the Democrat/Cameron Saddle

Luckily from here most of the mountain was windblown. I only ran into one or two tricky spots covered in snow. Here’s the view from above the saddle looking left at the hike up Mt Democrat. I just stuck to the ridge.

Yes, there’s a false summit on this one. Here’s the last bit of the trek to the summit

There was more snow than anticipated on this summit

Here’s my summit photo

15 Democrat

I turned and looked back at the ridge and the route up Cameron

Here’s the route I took

From the saddle it looks steeper. The actual trail goes left and right, but I was able to just stay on the ridge (and snow)

For the final push to the summit you can clearly see the trail to the left outlined in snow.

When I gained this ridge it was like I was transported to the moon: The snow was gone and there were small rocks everywhere

I took a quick summit photo

22 Cameron

And looked over towards Lincoln

I was debating taking off my snowshoes for the rest of the hike. It looked like everything on this side of the mountain was pretty much windswept, so I took them off, walked about 20 yards, and looked down to this:

I should have kept the snowshoes on just for this last little bit, but I found a way around the stuff causing me to posthole. The path up Lincoln is obvious. About halfway up to the summit I ended up putting on my snowshoes again because the snow was deeper than it looked from Cameron.

This one had a bit of a false summit as well

Summiting Lincoln was much easier than I remembered it from last time: Maybe it was the snow? Or maybe it was because the wind this time was nonexistent. In any event, I summited

27 Lincoln

There were two summit markers on this peak

So far my day had been pretty easy. I looked across at the route past Cameron and over to Bross, debating if I needed my snowshoes or not. There was only one area that gave me pause

I made it to the Lincoln/Cameron saddle, rook off my snowshoes, and hiked south. When I got to the slab of snow I put on my snowshoes and carefully began crossing the snow. This is much steeper than it looks, but with crampons on my snowshoes I felt secure

Here’s a look at the rest of the route up Bross

I didn’t think I’d be needing my snowshoes anymore so I took them off once again. I’m not a fan of taking them off and putting them back on again, but I’m even less of a fan of holding them (they’re too big to fit into my pack, and don’t fit nicely on the sides either). Also, it felt really warm. I’m not sure if it actually was warm outside or if it was due to the lack of wind, but I was actually starting to sweat. My hands were almost too warm in my gloves. I could get used to this!

It was a very quiet day. I hadn’t seen anyone else and the wind was silent, so imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner and saw this

Hm. Someone else must be up here today. I wonder why I hadn’t heard them drive up? No matter, now I as on the lookout for people. Until I got closer and realized the vehicle had been abandoned. It looked like someone had tried to fix a flat and gave up.

What was even more curious was they left the windows open and keys in the ignition.

I’m not sure how long the truck has been here, but with the roads the way they are it isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

I turned around to look at the way I’d come and decided I didn’t want to traverse that snow slab later in the day: on my way back I was just going to trudge straight up the hill to the summit of Cameron.

Since this is a mining area there are multiple roads to the summit of Bross. I just kept aiming towards the top and followed one after the other.

This felt like an easy summit

Here’s a look back at the route from the summit of Bross

The summit of Bross was very similar to the summit of Cameron: barren except for rocks. It was also very large and flat

The last time I’d taken this hike I hadn’t known there was a “South Bross” and today I intended to make my way over there. There isn’t much of a trail, but the route’s obvious

I was losing elevation, and it wasn’t lost on me I’d need to regain about 150 feet in elevation on my way back (just for Bross, with more for Cameron) but the short .6 of a mile trek was worth it.

42 South Bross

Here’s a look back on the entire route

I turned around and headed back to Bross. From the summit of Bross I pondered my options. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to make this a loop and head down the west side of Bross or re-summit Cameron and head back the way I’d come. The only reason hiking down Bross sounded like an ok choice was because it was shorter. However, I’ve experienced that screet before and it wasn’t something I ever wanted to experience again, either hiking up or down. Cameron had its drawbacks too: it meant an extra 300 feet of elevation gain in a short distance, and it added a couple of miles onto the trip. However, it also meant I’d get photos of the way I’d come. That was it, I was re-summiting Cameron, and not by way of the Cameron-Lincoln saddle. I was just hiking straight up the slope.

Yes, there was some snow, and it was steep, but very navigable

Here’s a look back at Bross and South Bross

Once I made it to the summit of Cameron (again) I had a great view of Democrat

Here’s a look at the route back. You can see Kite Lake is completely covered in ice and snow. Once again, the sections of snow below the Democrat/Cameron saddle were steep.

Here’s the route from Kite Lake

The 3 miles back to my truck from Kite Lake took a while, but I wasn’t bothered: I had all the time I needed today, and it was such a lovely day I didn’t mind the hike. Another plus was the lack of people. It was obvious I’d been the only one on this trail today. In the light of the afternoon sun I was once again glad I’d decided not to drive my truck any further on this road: it would have gotten stuck. In fact, just as I could see my parked truck I heard a noise and saw a truck smaller than mine come plowing down the road. I tried to wave my arms at them to indicate they shouldn’t drive further but it was no use. They continued on and got stuck.

They weren’t too happy about the situation either, and rudely refused my help when offered as if it were my fault they’d gotten stuck. I made it back to my truck at about 3 pm, making this a 16 mile hike in just over 10 hours.

Just for fun, here’s my Relive of the hike: https://www.relive.cc/view/2117888145

Colony Baldy – 13,705’

RT Length: 13 miles

Elevation Gain: 5100’

The roads on the drive in were insanely icy all the way from Colorado Springs to the trailhead. This was unexpected because it hadn’t snowed/rained lately: the ice was all due to a low lying and heavy fog. This was serious ice too! I didn’t even really notice the ice until I narrowly avoided sliding into a mama raccoon crossing the street with two of her babies. From then on I couldn’t drive faster than 35mph the entire way, which meant I didn’t make it to the trailhead until 5:30am (I should have been there around 4:30am). Luckily today was one of those rare days when I didn’t have a serious schedule or need to be home at a specific time, so I took it all in stride.

Besides being icy the road to the trailhead was a paved 2WD road. There was about 3 inches of snow in the parking lot and no other vehicles. The bathrooms are locked for the season.

There was snow on the ground so I decided to just put on my snowshoes in the car so I wouldn’t need to later. I kept them on the entire hike. I started at 5:40am, following the mud, rocks, ice, and snow that today was the Rainbow Trail. Despite what you may think by the name of the trailhead, you actually turn left at this sign and take the Rainbow/Macey Trail #1336.

There are two creek crossings on this hike. The first is Horn Creek. Cross this bridge and take the trail to the left (Macey Lakes Trail)

The trail weaves around the mountainside, so it varied from mud and rocks to 2+ feet of snow, depending on which side of the mountain I was on at that point. I decided it wasn’t worth taking off and putting my snowshoes on every ¼ mile or so, so they stayed on. I hiked in silence, all except for the sound of ice crunching underneath my snowshoes.

The sun was beginning to rise, and with it the low-lying fog.

The second bridge is over Macey Creek. It is very similar to the first bridge.

Here I got my first view of Colony Baldy

At the Macey Creek bridge the snow was deep and from here to the summit I broke trail. Once you cross Macey Creek you’ll follow the trail down to the bottom of a long hill, losing about 200-300’ in elevation (thinking WHY?!?!? the entire time). Just before you get to the bottom of this hill there’s a path to the right. I was unable to see it as the path was covered in snow and I had to backtrack and look for it, knowing from my topo map it was there. If you see the drainage you’ve gone too far.

On my way out I noticed the path is directly opposite of this sign, and I took a picture of my GPS coordinates

This is where the trail ends. I followed the drainage west through a heavily forested area until I came to a small clearing.

From here I could see Colony Baldy, and turned south (left).

I was supposed to follow the ridge to treeline, but the trees were so dense it was difficult to see anything, let alone a ridge

Instead of following the ridge I followed the drainage, which was a great idea since I couldn’t see the ridge: all I could see were hills and trees. The drainage didn’t have water, and didn’t look like it ever held water, but it gave me a nice, stable ‘V’ to follow up the hillside.

From the small clearing to treeline was the most difficult part of this hike. The snow was about 3 feet deep and like cotton candy: I’d take a step and sink to my knees, sliding backwards. Every step was like this, and as I made it higher up the mountain my steps became deeper and the snow became softer. The snow also made the angle I was climbing much steeper.

It seemed to take forever to make it to treeline! Each step was exhausting. The angle of the slope is much steeper than these pictures suggest. Many times my snowshoes would slide backwards as I tried to take a step forwards. It was like climbing on a treadmill at elevation that isn’t turned on.

I made it to the bristlecone pine trees and was only halfway done with the hardest part of this hike. That bristlecone pine area is a good half mile of very steep elevation gain.

This was the largest dispersion of bristlecone pines at treeline I’ve ever encountered, and it all goes straight up. Just when you think you’ve made it to the top of the bristlecone pine area you encounter more. Once again, the steepness of the slope cannot be stressed enough, especially with the added snow. I was using tree branches as handholds to keep myself from sliding backwards.

This is also where the wind picked up and didn’t stop. It was only about 20mph, but it was a steady 20mph with no breaks between gusts. On the plus side it was beautiful to watch the snow get thrown into the air and fall back down.

I put on my goggles and pulled my balaclava up over my nose and kept climbing until I was finally out of the bristlecone pine area and just needed to finish gaining the ridge. I kept looking back at the route I’d taken thinking to myself how it all looked the same: There were so many tree covered hills at seemingly equal elevation below treeline. I seriously hoped the wind didn’t cover my tracks with snow or I’d be using my map and compass to find my way back as well.

Once I gained the ridge I had a great view of Colony Baldy

And the route before me

From here to the summit it was an easy hike over rocky tundra. Easy, yes, but it took me forever to complete. The hike thus far had completely worn me out. I haven’t been this tired/slow going on an alpine hike in a very, very long time. I’d take 50 steps (yes, I’d count them) and then reward myself with a rest to breathe for 10 seconds. And all the false summits! Here’s the first one

And the second one

I gained the second false summit after a battle of wills with myself. I was exhausted. The wind coming straight at me and the intense elevation gain up the ridge and through the bristlecone pines had seriously worn me out. I kept telling myself it was almost over and I just needed to gain this one last hill and I’d be done. I promised myself I’d take a break once I’d summited and rest a bit. Imagine the words that went through my head when I gained the ‘summit’ and was met with this

Argh!!! Nope, I didn’t stop, even though my legs were screaming and I was having a difficult time catching my breath (something else that hasn’t happened on an alpine hike for me in quite a while). I kept going: 50 steps, 10 seconds to breathe. 50 steps, another 10 seconds to breathe. And you know what? When I finally gained that last hill to the true summit it was all worth it: I was met with the most fantastic view of the Crestones I’ve ever seen!

The downside? It was freezing cold! And windy. I took a summit picture

And a quick video before my cell phone went from 49% battery down to 7%

VIDEO:

I plugged in my cell phone to the charger and it immediately went back up to 15% and just stayed there, so I put my cell phone back in my pack and headed down, as my hands were starting to burn inside my mittens.

Here’s a look at that long, wonderfully ‘easy’ ridge. While it looks flat, it’s really just an easy slope.

The best part about hiking down? I was using different leg muscles and now I wasn’t tired at all. Each step downhill it became easier to breathe and I started picking up the pace (being careful not to trip on the rocks poking out from between the snow with my snowshoes). At the end of the slope I turned right (northeast) and followed the slope back past a small outcropping and to the bristlecone pine area. My tracks were all still (mostly) visible. Woot!

This is where I decided to have a little fun. The trench I’d made on my way up was steep and I kept slipping and sliding forward on my way back down because the snow was really, really soft. So I decided to just glissade on purpose because I was doing it by accident anyway.

I ended up doing this almost the entire way back down to the meadow. The path I’d taken was steep enough for me to slide down the entire way, but the snow was deep enough not to let me go too fast (an ice axe wouldn’t have been much help in this snow).

I made it back to the meadow and turned right and headed back to the Rainbow Trail. The 3.5 miles back to the trailhead seemed to last forever. It still wasn’t worth it to take off my snowshoes for the help they gave me in the shaded/snowy areas, so I kept them on. Wearing them included the added bonus of not needing to carry them. I didn’t see anyone else all day, and my tracks in were still the only tracks I saw on my way out, so I’d been alone all day today on the mountain.

I made it back to my truck at 3pm, making this a 13 mile hike with 5100’ of elevation gain in approximately 9.5 hours.

Here’s the relive video of the trek : https://www.relive.cc/view/1972846660

I made it back home at about 6pm and when I went to jump out of my truck my entire body groaned as I touched the ground. That soreness is something else I haven’t experienced for a long time, and an indication of a fabulous hike and a day well spent!

Atlantic Peak 13,856

RT Length:

Elevation Gain:

I really wanted to do Atlantic and Pacific together, but until April I have limited time schedules for hiking (I need to be back at my truck by noon to make it home in time to pick up my daughter from school, so it’s hikes under 8 miles until then). The weather indicated Atlantic Peak would be a good choice for today, so I went for it. This was only supposed to be a 4-6 mile hike and I wanted to break in my new winter hiking boots. They were supposed to be lighter and warmer than my Sorrels, but I was skeptical so I wanted to use them on a shorter hike before committing to longer distances.

I arrived at the Mayflower Gulch trailhead at 5:15am to 14* weather, much better than the -5* weather of last week in the San Juans. I was also pleasantly surprised to find it was right off the road: no off road driving for me today. There was one other vehicle (a Subaru) in the lot, and while the gate was open up to Boston Mine I decided to park my truck at the lower lot and hike in.

The lower lot was icy!!! I put on my microspikes in the truck and gathered my gear. I set out at 5:30am. It was very peaceful hiking at night. Silent. Very silent. No moon, but the stars were magnificent! The only sound was the snow falling off tree branches and onto the trail below. The trail was tightly packed down by other hikers, snowshoers and skiers.

A 4WD vehicle could have made the icy drive, but since this hike was so short it didn’t seem worth the extra mile and a half. I made it to the Boston Mine area before sunrise and put on my snowshoes in the dark. I was lazy so I kept my microspikes on and just put my snowshoes on over them. If I needed to take them off it would be a quick transition and maybe I could keep my gloves on the entire time (saving my fingers from the cold).

Oh, btw, this fence is not the height of a normal fence… it’s probably half the height (so the snow looks deeper than it actually is).

Snowshoes ended up being a great idea, because while the trail was packed down, as soon as I went off trail I started sinking to my knees, even while wearing my snowshoes. I looked for a trail across the gulch, but it looked like I was the first since the last snowfall so I broke my own trail.

The sun was beginning to rise, and Jacque Peak looked beautiful.

The snow was sugary and made snowshoeing difficult. I’d be fine for a few yards, and then plunge up to my waist. This was a serious problem in the willows, but I made it across the gulch and was surprised to exit and stumble upon a cairn! This was an unexpected treat! I found about 4 cairns on the entire route, always unexpected and sometimes on my way back down.

After crossing the gulch I was supposed to follow Mayflower Creek up to Atlantic’s west ridge, but the snow didn’t look stable and it looked really deep, so I stayed higher up on the hillside. This was great (early elevation gain) but there were times I was seriously worried about avalanche danger. It wouldn’t have been an intense avalanche, but I could see signs I should take an alternate route back once it warmed up. So I was slow in traversing the slope, but careful and ultimately safe.

Here’s the route I took

My next task was to hike Atlantic’s lower west ridge. This ended up being more difficult than anticipated: the snow here was very consolidated, unlike the sugary snow on the slopes and gullies. My snowshoes weren’t going to cut it. I took off one snowshoe and tried it with my microspikes. They became ice skates. Hmph. Ok, I was going to need to get creative. I put back on my snowshoes and got out my ice axe. This wouldn’t have been a problem with two ice axes or two ice picks and crampons, but I only had one ice axe and I hadn’t brought my crampons (I thought it was still too early). So I used my ice axe to drill a hole big enough for my left hand and then struck the snow with the axe and my right hand for support and lifted myself up. My snowshoes used the holds I’d made for my hands. This worked very well and I was able to gain the ridge in no time at all. (Note to self: It’s time for crampons).

Here’s a look back on the route

From here I was just supposed to follow the trail to the summit, but there wasn’t a trail, and in fact, at about 12,700’ I encountered some of the most difficult terrain of this hike.

This is where I wanted to turn back. I seriously considered it. The snow was intermittent and what snow there was was sugary and covering loose talus, so I couldn’t get a good grip on it in my snowshoes. I took them off again to try it with just spikes and it was even worse! My microspikes were of no use: I really needed the stability/flotation of snowshoes. Even though they weren’t perfect, they were a big help. This area took me much longer to navigate than it should have, but I didn’t quit and I didn’t turn back. I gained this ridge and was met with this:

Wow. That ridge didn’t look too difficult in normal conditions, but I could already see this would be a challenge due to the unpredictable snow. Maybe not a challenge for seasoned snow summiters, but I’m still new to this. There was snow, lots of cornices beginning to form, and a narrow ridge to navigate. I forged on ahead.

Luckily a mountain goat had been here last night and gave me some tracks to consider. There were times I didn’t feel safe following it’s tracks, but they did give me a good general direction to follow, which was directly on top on the ridge.

I’d reach one summit and find another, which was frustrating, but I knew everything I encountered was within my abilities and even a bit challenging. I came across a few sections that would have been class 2 if there hadn’t been snow, but with the snow (and instability of said snow) I decided it was safer just to go straight over the ridge. This turned the hike into a class 3 climb, and with snowshoes made me a bit clumsy (but safer than without).

This was one of those learning opportunities where I was scared at times but knew I could do it so I kept pushing forward, even though there were many times I wanted to quit and come back in the summer.

Here’s the route I took:

The trek wasn’t long, and I wasn’t tired when I reached the summit, but I was cold. Luckily my phone and camera were working, although my phone cut out halfway though the first video and I had to take another one and then it shut down. I plugged it into my portable charger and took pictures with my DSLR. I summited at 9am.

VIDEO:

While it was cold it wasn’t windy, so the cold was bearable. I stayed on the summit much longer than I normally do, taking pictures and marveling at the beauty of the mountains with snow.

I considered traversing Pacific Peak as well, but didn’t think I’d be able to do it successfully with my time constraints. The class 3 route looks doable now though, so I may be back in the next few weeks.

Here’s a look back at the route

The trek back was easier than the hike in because I just followed my tracks (and didn’t look down). Looking down would have caused unnecessary anxiety.

Those ridges were something else!

Of course I took a shadowselfie

I decided to follow the creek down because that was what I was supposed to do and I was seriously worried about avalanche danger on the route I’d taken up the mountain. I’m still learning about avalanches, but know some of the initial signs and what I was seeing wasn’t making me comfortable. So I took the creek, but this proved difficult as well, as out of nowhere I’d sink up to mu chest in soft snow and then have to work myself out. This happened many times and was frustrating, but I still felt safer than on the slope above.

Just before hitting Mayflower gulch my toes started to hurt: the new snow boots were fine, but the snowshoes and boots combination was cutting off circulation in my toes and trekking downhill was beginning to hurt. This hadn’t happened in my previous boots, and is something I need to consider.

Also, I lost my phone. It fell out of my pocket and I had to retrace my steps ¼ of a mile uphill to find it. That wasn’t fun. I found it buried in snow (but attached to my bright orange solar charger). I picked it up and trudged back down the hill and across Mayflower Gulch to Boston Mine.

It was a beautiful day! And warm! I took off my gloves but had to put them back on again once I made it back to the trail (and shade). Have I mentioned I love my new gloves!

My new winter books are ok, but despite my double tying them and folding them under my laces they still came undone while hiking, which isn’t an option for me since I can’t tie them wearing mittens. I may try safety pinning them next time.

I made it back to the trailhead at noon and looked at my STRAVA map. Hmph! This wasn’t right: It showed my trek to the summit, but it seems it stopped working there and picked up again where I found my phone in the snow after losing it (please don’t attempt to take that straight line: it’s not safe!!!). So while the elevation gain is most likely correct, the trek down and mileage definitely are not. My iPhone told me I’d hiked 6.8 miles, so I’m going with that for mileage. The hike was 5.5 hours.

Here’s my Relive map (which is also false since it did that straight line thing from the summit to where I lost my phone).

https://www.relive.cc/view/1968357714