summit – Page 10 – 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:

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!

Mt Sherman – 14,036, in Winter

RT Length: 8 miles

Elevation Gain: 3070’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s the route I took:

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

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

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

And boy was it steep!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

25 Mt Sherman

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

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

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

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

And then followed my snowshoe tracks back down the mountain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Mt Sherman Summit Sticker can be bought here

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

Manitou Incline x 2 & Mt Manitou 9460

RT Length: 11.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 4865’

The weather was absolutely perfect today for a hike, but the avalanche danger was high above treeline so I decided to play it safe and stay local. I set my alarm for 3am, decided when it went off that was way too early considering I didn’t need to drive far, and set it again for 4:20am. The cats woke me up around 6am, wondering why I was still asleep. I jumped out of bed, silently cursed my alarm for not going off a second time, realized it was user error on my part, and decided to head out hiking anyway as the sun wasn’t yet up.

There was a man attending the incline parking lot when I got there. He informed me today was the last day they were allowing parking at this lot, as they were going to use the lot as a storage area for equipment needed to fix the cog railway. This was interesting information, and means I’ll have to either park at the shuttle lot (gasp!) or find other parking downtown if I want to hike the incline for the next two years. I made it to the trailhead at 6:40am and was on the trail by 6:50am.

I usually hike for time when I hike the incline, but today I’d planned on just taking it slow and steady as I planned to hike it more than once. The steps were either completely dry or completely covered in snow/ice. I was glad I’d brought my microspikes.

Just before 7am the sun started to rise. There were clouds in the sky so I never got a true view of the sunrise, but it was still beautiful

There weren’t many people on the trail this early in the morning (there’d only been one other vehicle in the lot) so the trail was nice and quiet. I only saw about 5 or 6 people on my way up. I summited the incline around 7:30am.

The 2.5 miles down the Barr trail was icy most of the way to the parking lot. Once again I was glad I’d brought microspikes.

OK, time to start this again. Once again I continued up the stairs, slow and steady. It was warmer now but microspikes were still needed. There were also many more people on the trail. I felt overloaded in my knit hat, snow jacket, and with my pack full of gear while everyone else was in shorts and only carrying a water bottle, but I didn’t intend to stop at the top this time. I summited the second time at 9:30am

I’d had enough of people (there were dozens on the trail now) and decided to try to find the summit of Mt Manitou. I had a trail map that gave me the general direction of where the mountain was, but knew there wasn’t an established trail so I’d have to get creative to find the summit. I also couldn’t find any trip reports online, so I didn’t have more than my topo map to go by. I headed up the dirt road behind the incline towards the Barr Trail. Here I found a trail that paralleled the 4WD road and decided to take it instead

It led me to a cave

And then brought me back to the Barr Trail where it intersects with the experimental forest.

I’ve hiked in this general area dozens of times and I’ve seen the sign for the experimental forest every time, yet I’ve never taken that route. Today was my day! I knew this trail would get me close to Mt Manitou, so I followed it and quickly came to the old experimental forest area.

I continued to follow the dirt road covered in snow up and around past the experimental forest. When I was sure I was close I got out my phone and pulled up my Peakbagger app. It showed Mt Manitou as being NWN from where I was, so I aimed my compass in that direction and started hiking off trail. This is where I really could have used snowshoes.

I was sinking up to my shins in show but the good news was there wasn’t any wind so it would be easy to find my way back just following my tracks. I could tell I was getting close to the summit when the snow lessened.

Still no trail, I kept hiking upwards, and soon I was at the ‘summit’. This was a treed summit with a lot of rocks. One of them held a cairn and that was my only indication of a summit (that and it was the highest point around)

I climbed up on the rock both to make sure I was on the highest point

And to get a picture

And a video:

Mt Manitou Summit:

From the summit I could also see Cameron’s Cone, Almagre, and Pikes Peak

Ok, time to head back down. This was super easy as I just followed my earlier tracks back to the 4WD road and the 3.5 miles back down to the parking lot. This time the Barr trail was slushy and I was kicking up rooster tails of dirt onto the back of my pants. I made it back to my truck at 12pm, making this a solid 4865’ of elevation gain 11.5 mile hike in under 6 hours.

The relive on this one is kind of fun

Relive:

https://www.relive.cc/view/2092516509

Black Mesa – 4973’ Oklahoma Highpoint

RT Length: 8.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 734’

Once again the weather in Colorado was terrible, but at least I had a few days’ notice to make other hiking plans. I have backup plans for when the weather isn’t swell in the high country, and today’s plan was to drive to Oklahoma to do some highpointing.

The highest point in Oklahoma is (not surprisingly) close to the Colorado border. I left the house at 2:30am and quite enjoyed my commute until I turned off the main road and onto a dirt road with 26 miles left to the drive. Also, I completely lost cell service. This wasn’t a big deal as I knew my GPS would get me to the trailhead, but I was worried about finding my way back to the paved road on my return. It was quite dark and I couldn’t see any landmarks to guide me back. There were 6 or 7 turns, and I mentally thanked myself for printing out directions and bringing them with me. The dirt road was littered with cow patties and I could see cow eyes glowing at me in the dark.

The last bit of road took me down a one way dirt path with 2 foot tall grass growing between the tire ruts and then through a stream crossing I was sure was over a foot deep, but I made it without a hiccup. I arrived at the trailhead at 7:30am (after crossing a time zone, so it was 6:30am to me), gathered my gear, and was on the trail. It was still dark out.

My vehicle was the only one in the medium sized parking lot. There was a bathroom that was open and a wheelchair accessible parking space.

The trailhead started behind a gate that ensured only foot traffic proceeded. I signed my name in the trail register and was on my way.

It was still dark when I started and I was a bit worried about forecasted wind and the potential for rain later in the day. Route finding ended up being no problem at all. The trail follows an old 4WD road with signs every quarter mile or so marking the way.

So even though it was dark it would have been difficult to get lost

At mile 1, 2, and 3 there were benches where you could potentially sit and rest, but since this was a fairly level hike I just took pictures and kept on

After mile 3 the trail took a sharp turn towards the mesa and up what the instructions called switchbacks but the route never really switched back: instead it was a trail that circled up the hill.

The trail up to the top of the mesa was washed out but it was still easy to follow.

In no time at all I’d reached the top of the hill

From here there was another mile or so to trek, but it was across the flat mesa

Once again, the path was clear and easy to follow. I made it to the summit at 8am after 1.5 hours of hiking.

The summit was… flat. It didn’t feel like a summit at all. I was surprised to find a summit register and elevation marker.

Summit 1 :

Summit 2:

https://youtu.be/QJITk1v6akI 

The obelisk at the summit was rather detailed and contained information on how far the different states were away from this point as well as a few other state facts

Ok, now it was time to head back down. I enjoyed the views on the mesa

Here’s the route back to the trailhead

I made it back to the trailhead at 9:15am, making this an 8.6 mile hike in 2 hours 45 min. Back at the trailhead I saw a bench I’d missed in the dark, dedicated to an avid highpointer

This hike was very easy. There was minimal elevation gain, and you could probably push a stroller on this hike and get it to the summit without too much difficulty. I didn’t see another person all day, but I did see dozens of cows.

Cows:

Oh, and in the light of day there weren’t any landmarks to guide me on the dirt road back home either. Once again, I was very glad I’d pre printed out directions to assist me on the way back.

I made it back to the paved highway without making a wrong turn, and just in the nick of time too because it started raining violently. The weather back home was much worse, as the snow anticipated for 4pm came roaring in with a vengeance around 10am and closed the freeway north of my house. I’d made the correct choice today to head south and go highpointing instead of into the mountains near home.

Here’s the track of my route and stats for the day

Relive: https://www.relive.cc/view/2087219413