·
Snow starts at 12000’ and keeps going from
there. Bring microspikes. Snowshoes weren’t needed.
·
I can see tons of potential avalanche danger on
this hike with more snow.
·
The lower Mt Princeton Road Trailhead is
actually pretty nice.
·
The road from here to the radio towers wasn’t as
bad as I’d been led to believe. It was definitely
4WD, but it wasn’t that difficult. The
only down side was it was narrow, so if you came across another vehicle it
would take a bit of maneuvering to get around each other. I have a Tundra, so this was an issue for
me. Two Jeeps wouldn’t have an
issue. Side note: the trail was dry when I took it. If it was wet or had snow or ice it would
probably be much more technical to navigate.
I could see several dry gullies I’m assuming flow over the road when it
rains/snow melts.
·
There are spots to park your vehicle at the
radio towers, but they aren’t obvious, and they’re tight. I had ‘fun’ turning around my truck when I
discovered the road was one way in and out.
I began at 6am. For
anyone wanting to know what it looks like hiking in the dark, here you go:
This was my first view of Mt Princeton
The trail after the towers begins on road 322A. It can be difficult to find the towers in the
dark, but if you’ve driven 3 miles since the lower trailhead and come upon a
sharp curve, you’ve missed the towers.
It was pretty cool to look back on Buena Vista and see it
covered in fog and haze
The first couple of miles follow the 4WD road up 322A. Then the real trail starts up to the right of
the hillside. There’s no sign, except
this wonderful, um, arrow of rocks? pointing the way.
As soon as you get up this small hill you get a great view
of Mt. Princeton.
From here snow at minimum lined the trail for the rest of
the hike, and at most completely covered it.
I put on my microspikes and continued on.
Shadowselfie, because I do that type of thing
At this point I was thinking it was probably a good thing I
had snow on the trail, since I was probably walking over a lot of scree. I prefer snow to scree any day.
Oh, and when I turned back around I saw the SUNRISE! Colorado 14er sunrises are AMAZING!!
When I got to the top of the ridge I noticed a wind wall in
front of me and a mountain to my left. I
got out my Peakbagger app, and discovered it was Tigger Peak (13,280). It was only .3 miles away, so I made note of
the location to hike on the way back.
I turned right and got a good look at the rest of the hike
up Mt. Princeton. From here it’s .7miles
to the top. There was a pretty good
trail for most of the way, but when it was covered in snow I just followed the
ridge to the right.
Some places had a lot of snow and I did a bit of post holing
Others were bare
I summited to an absolutely beautiful view! Here’s photo proof I summited:
The weather reports said 40 degrees with 25-30 MPH winds and
45MPH gusts, so I dressed warmly (multiple layers, hats, scarves, etc.) Either I did an excellent job over dressing,
or it wasn’t that cold out. I barely had
any wind for the entire hike, except on the exposed ridges.
At this point I turned to head back down Mt Princeton’s
ridge. Take a look at Tigger Peak!
It took a lot longer to hike down than I remembered hiking
up, but I had to be very careful of foot placement. Despite microspikes it was still slippery. I ended up tripping once and hitting my left
knee pretty hard. I felt silly and
continued on.
The trail to Tigger Peak had a ridge and what I considered a
false summit. And due to the recent
snow, no trail. Well, I’m assuming it’s
due to the recent snow. It might not
have a trail at all anyway? In any
event, there wasn’t a visible trial, so I got to make my own! I considered this a very awesome opportunity,
and I was careful to make sure my steps were secure.
On the ridge between the two small what I considered summits
of Tigger Peak it happened:
I was on a part of the route with exposed rock (no
snow). I lifted my right foot to take a
step, and abruptly pirouetted and started falling towards the rocks. You see, when I’d tripped earlier apparently
I’d tripped on broken microspikes: One
of the hooks holding them together had come loose, and now, when I’d lifted my
foot, the hook on my left microspike attached to my right microspike, and I
fell down like that giant in Jack and the Beanstock with the tied
shoelaces. It all happened in slow
motion. In fact, I had time to curse
twice. (Side note, I don’t actually
cuss, so I said “Gosh Darn It! Flibbity-gibbit” (seriously)).
I’m not going to lie, it hurt. But I didn’t sit there. As soon as my knee hit the rock and I could, I
untangled myself, got up, and started hiking.
I could tell nothing was broken, but it stung badly. The best way to fix this (I know from
experience) is to walk/hike it off. So I
kept going, looking down at my knee every few seconds, expecting to see
blood. Luckily that never happened.
I’m proud to say I continued on up and over the second ridge
and summited my first 13er! (yes, I know it isn’t “official”)
This is the first time I’ve forged a trail on snow, and I
was pretty proud of myself! Oh, but I
had to prove I was in the right spot, so I took a picture of my Peakbagger app
indicating I was on the peak
And a picture of my GPS, showing where I was
And as I looked across the mountain range, I snapped a
picture of this cloud that looks like a pufferfish? Yoda? Floating
majestically over Mt Antero.
Then I headed back.
It was cool following my tracks!
So now I had a serious dilemma: My microspikes were broken. I’d slipped and fallen hard twice, but I knew
the hike would be much worse without them.
This is what I still had to hike (well, about 3 times this, as the trail
looped all the way around the mountain, remember those earlier snow pictures?):
So I made the decision to hike with the broken microspikes,
but to be very, very careful (slow). I
kept my feet wide apart from each other:
I waddled, felt like a pregnant woman, and my pace was slow, but I didn’t
slip again! I was excited to make it
back to 12000’ where the snow stopped and I could take off my microspikes. This was also where I met my first hiker of
the day: A newby without spikes but with
a good and realistic attitude (he was prepared to turn back but wanted to see
how far he could go). I also met a group
of 5 or 6 friends hiking with a dog: ON
A LEASH! Major points to these
people. They were friendly too!
I made it back to my truck at 11:30pm, which wasn’t a great
time for a 7.5 mile hike, but I’ll allow it because I was hiking on extended
fields of snow for the first time, I forged my own trail and I was being extra
careful on the way down. Here’s a
picture of the towers
I was invited by Anne on
this hike, and was thrilled with the invite!
I’d initially wanted to hike a 14er today, but the rough weather all
week meant lots of snow everywhere over 14000 feet in Colorado, so this was the
perfect opportunity to get out and hike on a day a 14er wasn’t the best
option.
Once again, I wasn’t
sure if I’d be able to go on this hike until the day before. I felt really bad about my lack of commitment
early on, but I’d hate to RSVP and then later retract it. When I realized I’d actually be able to go I
was stoked! We started out with about 6
or 7 people invited, but there ended up being 3 of us hiking in the end.
I was worried about the
weather. Really worried actually. It had snowed in the region all week. All current weather reports indicated snow
was inevitable, along with cold temperatures and wind. However, the cold weather wasn’t supposed to
set in until the afternoon.
I mentally didn’t want
to hike in the cold, but I also really wanted to make a few hiking friends, and
saw this as the perfect opportunity. I
decided to bundle up and take the plunge.
We met at 3:30am at the
Woodmen Park n Ride. I drove. Actually, I insisted I drive. I really like to drive, and this way if I
ended up bailing due to weather I’d be able to sit in my truck and not feel bad
about using up gas for heat. I was
wearing 4 layers of clothing, but was worried because I didn’t bring a
scarf.
It only took us about 2
hours to get there. I was surprised the
drive went by so fast, even after stopping half way for coffee. We didn’t see any wildlife on the road, besides
the tail end of a fox.
The hike to Sky Pond
begins from Glacier Gorge Trailhead in RMNP.
The parking lot was almost full when we arrived at 6am. Even though this was a National Park, there
was no way to pay at the entrance gate?
Usually there are self pay envelopes you leave when you arrive
before/after hours, but we weren’t able to find any, despite searching. Oh well, we’d pay on the way out.
We began the trail at
6:15am. It was 45 degrees outside with a strong wind (25mph?). I was glad it was beginning to get light
outside because I didn’t have a map. In
fact, I hadn’t done any research on this trail, which is absolutely nothing
like me. Usually I’m uber prepared. The only research I’d done was on the weather. Luckily Anne knew where we were going and had
a map. Both David and I let her
lead. It was a good thing too: there were several trails that intersected at
various points with our trail. It was
easy to go the wrong way if you didn’t pay attention to the signs.
At this point the sun
was beginning to rise and we started seeing a bit of Alpine Glow.
At just under a mile we
passed Alberta Falls, one of the more popular hiking destinations in Rocky
Mountain National Park. This scenic 30-foot waterfall thunders down a small
gorge on Glacier Creek, and is named after Alberta Sprague, the wife of Abner
Sprague, one of the original settlers in the Estes Park area. It was very difficult to take pictures of the
falls, so we didn’t. The next section of trail, between Alberta Falls and Mills
Junction, was rehabilitated by the National Park Service and the Rocky Mountain
Conservancy. The entire trail to this point was easy to hike,
and very well maintained.
This hike was full of
beautiful, small lakes. The first lake
we encountered was Loch Vale, better known as The Loch. It was very cold and
very windy at this lake. This beautiful
subalpine lake is situated at 10,190 feet.
We reached the base of Timberline
Falls, high above the trail. From this vantage point the trail begins to climb
a series of rock steps. In other words, you climb the waterfall. It was still very cold and there was a lot of
ice on the trail, so this is where we stopped to put on our microspikes.
From here the trail
continues up a chute to the right of the falls. This is a fairly challenging
scramble that climbs roughly 100 feet, and requires hand holds and the use of
all four limbs while ascending. The first 30 feet or so are the most difficult,
but beyond that it’s a relatively easy scramble. Just to complicate things a
little more, portions of the climb has water flowing down the route (the
waterfall). It’s nothing exceedingly dangerous, but we did have to take our
time and be extremely cautious. This is the point where many people turn around
on the hike.
At the top of the climb
we reached the Lake of Glass, an incredibly beautiful alpine lake with
outstanding views of The Sharkstooth, Taylor Peak and Powell Peak. This lake is
also sometimes referred to as Glass Lake. And it was WINDY! I was almost blown over a couple of times,
but once we started walking it wasn’t so bad.
From here the trail
becomes fairly rocky and rugged as it travels along the west side of the lake.
We finally reached Sky
Pond, which sits at an elevation of 10,900 feet. The views here are simply
spectacular. The alpine lake fills a cirque basin, and is surrounded on three
sides by sheer cliff walls.
Off to the right are the
granite spires of The Sharkstooth. Against the backdrop of a cobalt blue sky,
the scene makes for an extremely dramatic view.
The mountain directly
across the lake is 13,153-foot Taylor Peak, and towards the south is
13,208-foot Powell Peak. I’ll come back
for those two someday.
Even though this hike didn’t include a summit, we’d
had a great hike. But when we saw the
large formations staring at us from across the pond we knew we wanted
more. So we made our own path across the
pond and towards the large formations.
We looked up at the gulley, decided it was doable, and started to
climb.
It was a bit challenging due to the ice and snow, but
we made it to the top! I loved how
everyone just went for it, knowing we’d all be able to make it (or just willing
to turn back if it seemed too difficult… we had to at least try!).
The views from here were amazing as well!
The best part?
This is when the sun came out! I
was pretty much freezing at this point due to the wind, but the sun was
absolutely amazing!!!
We met a couple of hikers here who had the same idea
we did, but went a slightly different route.
Our route ended up being easier, so they followed us on the way back
down. They were fun to chat with, and
seemed like a couple of fun guys! They
even took Anne’s camera for a couple of selfies!
As we hiked back we looked back on the trail we’d
hiked to get there.
On the way up we hadn’t seen many people, but on the
way down we encountered a steady stream of hikers. This became a bit dangerous on Timberline
Falls, but we were thrilled most of the ice from the morning had dissipated and
it was now just wet in most areas and icy in just a few.
We gave the other climbers some pointers and headed
on. It was really nice to be with other
competent hikers who were sure of themselves while hiking.
We made it back to the Loch and met a couple that took
a fun picture of David, Anne, and I
The colors on the trees had already started to fade,
but there was a little left to enjoy.
When we made it back to the trailhead we looked at the
map of our hike. We’d visited a bunch of
lakes!
We all seemed to get along pretty well, talking and
hiking at about the same pace. After the
hike we all decided to head down to Estes Park for a beer. It was about 2pm, and there was quite a bit
of traffic. We learned we were in the
middle of an Elk Festival, and the town was overflowing with tourists. Funny thing, we didn’t see any elk, but many
people had that morning (we did see them lounging in the RMNP Elk Viewing area
however).
We stopped at Rock Cut Brewing Company for some
excellent beer and some fried food out of a food truck that was pretty tasty
(fries, burgers, cauliflower covered in parmesan garlic and tater tots). There were lots of wasps, and some pretty
good conversations with a bunch of people we met who were staying at the
Stanley Hotel. They’d been friends for decades
and were vacationing together for fun.
The drive home took twice as long as the drive there
due to traffic. There were several
accidents and even a death investigation on the I25, so we didn’t get back
until after 6pm. It was totally worth it
though! I’m pretty sure I made some new
hiking friends, and I had a great time!
Roundtrip Length was about 10 miles, with elevation gain
of about 2000 feet.
Side note: "National
Public Lands Day is being celebrated this Saturday, Sept. 30, across the US
which means you can get in free to all national parks across the country for
FREE. And yes, that includes Colorado’s four national parks as well.“
– we were lucky to get a parking space at all!
I had someone ask me the other day who I was hiking
for. The question caught me off guard,
but I guess you can’t set a goal like hiking all 58 of Colorado’s 14ers and
aggressively tackling that goal without people thinking you’re doing it for a
cause.For those of you who don’t know
me, this type of behavior is typical “Laura” behavior.If I’m going to do something, I’m going to
give it 100%.Intense is a word often
used to describe me.Also, if I’m not
going to give it 100% I usually don’t do it at all.
No one’s noticed this yet, but I wear a different School in the
Woods hat on each hike. Usually it’s the last one I knitted, but sometimes it’s just one I like.I also like the fact I’m summiting these
peaks alone, and not many women hike/climb alone.I see a lot of men solo, but I’ve yet to see
a woman.Why can’t women be mountaineers
too?
Why do I like hiking alone?
It gives me time to think. I love to think and process information, and
when I go by myself I don’t need to fill the silence with talk.
I can set the pace. I can hike as fast or as slow as I’d like. This is important because I’m usually on a
schedule to get back home by a certain time to be with/pick up my kids. I have a time table that doesn’t give a lot of
room for error. I rarely hike slowly, but
I’d feel bad for my partner if I was slowing them down. I’m always hiking at a brisk pace that’s
usually difficult for others to keep up with.
I get frustrated hiking slower than necessary. Yes, hiking is competitive for me. If you’re ahead of me or behind me, we’re
racing. (No, I don’t allow this to let
me make reckless decisions when hiking, I know when to alter my pace for safety
reasons).
I’m not a fan of taking breaks while hiking,
even for drinking water or getting a snack.
I continue hiking as I’m taking off my jacket or getting out my gloves. I’ve yet to meet anyone who doesn’t need a
break while on a hike. This is
especially important for me towards the summit, where it’s often cold. I have Raynaud’s, and if I stop/hike slowly
in the cold my body shuts down and I cannot move. Frostbite comes easy to me even in warm
weather (if there’s wind). I need to
keep moving if I want to summit. This
also means I can’t spend a lot of time on the summit enjoying the view (because
I’m susceptible to frost bite I get off the summit asap, especially if it’s
cold).
There are several peaks I’ve climbed I’m certain
I wouldn’t have been able to summit if I’d had a partner, because they would
have insisted we’d turn back. I have a
higher risk acceptance rate than most because I have a lot of experience. No, this doesn’t mean I’m reckless, but I
feel prepared to continue on a hike many people wouldn’t.
I’m more likely to see wild animals (because it’s
quieter). Yes, this is one of the
highlights of hiking for me. I get upset
when I see someone with bear bells, because it means I won’t get to see any
wildlife either.
I usually don’t know which peak I’m going to
climb, or if I’m hiking at all, until the night before. This can be difficult for others to work with,
and I’d feel bad being the one to constantly change plans. It also means I’d need to communicate with
the other person about details, which isn’t something I particularly like to do
(the communication part: details I’m great at).
This all probably makes me sound like an awful person, but
in reality, I’m just an introvert that likes to hike solo because it’s
intrinsically motivating. I understand a
hiking partner would need to put up with me as well (and I admit I can be
difficult).I don’t actually mind hiking
with other people, but we’d need to be a good fit in areas of personality,
endurance, etc.I’ve yet to find someone
who is.I need to find someone with more
experience to climb with next summer. There are several peaks I want to tackle that are difficult class 3’s
and class 4’s where it just makes sense safety wise to climb with a
partner.I need to step outside of my
comfort zone, which may be more difficult for me than tackling those class 4’s
alone.
Back to the purpose of
this post:If people ask me who I’m
hiking for I’d like to say SitW or Girl Scouts, but in reality the reason is
more selfish:I’m hiking for me.
Hiking so many peaks in so little time is probably the most
selfish thing I’ve ever done. I’ve
always loved to hike and mountains/backpacking/camping/etc. in general, but after becoming a mom at 17 my whole
world as I knew it changed.For the past
20 years I’ve been focused on being the best mom I can be, always putting my
kids and their activities first.But now
that two of my kids are driving/working, and all are in either High School or College,
I’m noticing they have more of a social life than I do.Whenever I want to do something with them
they’re busy.
I’m not mad or upset about this. It’s wonderful my kids have
jobs, interests, and friends. I want to
encourage them to go to work and school and spend time with their peers.But I’m finding myself with the ability to go
hiking because they’re busy and I’m not. Note:I ONLY go hiking when my
kids are busy, sleeping, or in school.I’ve
never hiked when I’ve had an opportunity to spend time with them one on
one.This is important to me, and often
why I plan hikes last minute.
So, what are my goals when it comes to summiting Colorado’s
14ers? They’ve evolved over the past
couple of months.Initially I’d wanted
to hike them all by 2023:the 100th
anniversary of the first successful summit of them all.But as I got to hiking this year I started
completing them faster than anticipated. My goal for this year was to climb 11, but I’ve already made it to
29.I realize the climbs get more
difficult, and I’ve done most of the “easy” ones this year, but I won’t be able
to realistically hike another 29 next year. They just take too much commitment, and I know I’ll fail at a few
summits the first time or two, so I’ll need to attempt them multiple times.
Realistically, my goals are to complete all 58 by the time I
turn 40 (in 2020). That gives me exactly
3 more years to successfully summit 29 more peaks.
Another question I get often: Why are you hiking them all so fast?What are you going to do when you hike them
all and have none left?
This question is obviously asked by someone who doesn’t know
me very well. I have a lot of life
goals, and this is only one of them.Off
the top of my head some of the others I want to tackle are:Rim to Rim Grand Canyon, 14ers in
California/Washington, Galapagos, Andes, Kilimanjaro, Mt Fuji, Mona Loa, Great
White Shark Diving, the PCT and the Appalachian Trail. I also want to go back to school to get my
Doctorate, I want to write a book, and don’t forget, there are over 637 13ers
in Colorado, and many, many more amazing hikes to tackle!
I’d planned on taking an off day today instead of hiking. I’ve hiked 5 fourteeners in the past 6 days, and I’d thought I’d accomplished a lot this week. I wanted to take my kids to see the fall colors, but when I asked them all about their schedules two of my kids had to work and one was going to a slumber party.
So suddenly, at 7pm, I had the opportunity to hike the next day. This was wonderful! This was terrible!
I have the goal of hiking all 58 of Colorado’s 14ers, and when I set a goal I tend to aggressively meet that goal. It’s an added bonus I love hiking so it’s not much of a challenge to get me to hike a peak. But today I was supposed to rest! I knew from my hike yesterday and listening to the forecast on the way home most of the high country was getting snow this weekend. I’d already done a snow hike this week and that didn’t sound like a fun repeat. But I had an idea: I looked at the weather for Blanca and Ellingwood, and it was predicted to be 44 degrees, sunny, with 20mph winds all day! Great weather! I don’t think I’ve had a forecast yet this summer that was “sunny” all day.
I quickly put together a pro-con list for hiking (or not) in the morning:
Con:
·I’ve only had 15 hours of sleep total this week (due to working nights and hiking days)
·I hate hiking on Saturdays. There are just too many people!
·I still haven’t found a “hiking buddy”
·Gas is expensive
·I’ve hiked 5 peaks in the past 6 days and should let my body rest
Pro:
·I get to hike
·The weather was predicted to be great (for fall)
·I’m running out of good weather hiking days for the year (winter is coming)
·Hiking these two peaks would put me at 29 total 14ers (halfway to 58!)
·I just got new off road tires on my truck, and I’d get to try them out on Lake Como Road
·Although I’ve done a lot of hiking lately, I’m not physically sore
Darn it, I’m going hiking!
I woke up at 2am and made it to the trailhead by 5am. (That’s making really great time driving). No problems this time with directions/etc. I only took my truck about 3 miles up the road because that was what was suggested, but after hiking in a ways it was obvious my truck could have made it at least 4 miles, if not 5 up the road. The only problem I’d have would be finding a parking spot big enough for my Tundra that far up. There are a few parking spots at some of the switchbacks, but they were all full, and there wasn’t a place to turn around if needed.
Here’s what the road looked like driving in
When you see this sign, it’s a good place to park. Most good clearance 4WD’s can make it further, but there’s no space to turn around once your vehicle can’t make it anymore.
If you’re wondering if your vehicle can make it up this road, then it can’t. Here are some pictures of the Lake Como road. Yes, it’s insane.
This road continued until past Lake Como, and just gets worse as it goes on. The road itself is intense for vehicles, but not so bad for hikers. Not fun, but not bad/tough. Yes, it’s a long hike in, but I’d compare it to the Pikes Peak trail to Barr Camp. It wasn’t as bad as I’d been told it would be.
I made it to Lake Como at 7:20am (about 2 hours of hiking), and was surprised to find most people still sleeping and a few people fishing around the lake. I didn’t know Lake Como had fish?
This is the type of vehicle that can make it up Lake Como Road.
There were a bunch of signs indicating bear activity, but bear activity wasn’t obvious (no prints or damage). I did like seeing all the bear bags hanging from trees though!
The trail continued around the lake and around many more small lakes before coming to a small basin.
The trail was well maintained with plenty of cairns.
Here you can see Ellingwood (left) and Blanca (right).
The rest of the trail was easy to follow, but not very pretty. It was gray and rocky. Very, very rocky. But at least there were a lot of cairns marking the way.
I talked to several hikers along the way, asking if they knew where the cutoff to Ellingwood was exactly? Most of the directions I found indicated a general area, but said it was difficult to find. No one seemed to know for sure, but they were all interested in completing both Blanca and Ellingwood today as well. Everyone had an opinion on the cutoff though: Some thought the trail was above the snow left on the mountain, some thought under, some thought further up the ridge.
The weather was just as predicted. Kind of. It was beautiful. Everywhere except for Blanca Peak. I felt as if she was staring at me as I was hiking the basin.
Blanca Peak was covered in a thin layer of snow, ice, and a very small cloud. As I approached it got colder and the wind got stronger. Once I reached the ridge the weather turned nasty. The cloud that was covering Blanca’s peak was full of ice. As I climbed the ridge I was slipping all over the place and had to use both hands to steady myself. Obviously I put my camera away and trudged on.
I couldn’t see where I was going because the cloud covering Blanca was so thick. The exposure was such one false slip and I’d slide off the peak, so it was slow going as I made sure I was steady before making my next move.
The last push seemed to go on forever, until I was finally at the summit! I was frozen and couldn’t talk, but I’d made it!
What’s “funny” is the weather was perfect in every direction, except for directly over the peak. Heavy clouds were forming about 20 yards from Blanca’s peak, and the 20mph wind was rushing it over the peak. Then the cloud disappeared once it had gone over Blanca. It was maddening! The only bad weather in sight was directly above me!
I had to get back down from the peak quickly, as I was becoming a popsicle. Even the cairns were full of ice!
As I descended I kept telling myself Ellingwood was in the sun, so that hike would be warm. But as I descended Blanca the clouds descended as well, and started to envelop Ellingwood too. Ugh!
Descending Blanca was beautiful (and clear)
I really wanted to hike Ellingwood, but I was very, very cold, and it didn’t look warm on Ellingwood. I was seriously worried I’d need to come back at a later date to climb Ellingwood. This was NOT something I’d wanted to do, but was prepared to do if necessary. I just hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
Added to that was the fact I didn’t really know where the cutoff was for Ellingwood. I knew where the trail was on the ridge, but with all the ice it didn’t look safe to take that route. I’d thought the cutoff for Ellingwood was at a cairn I’d seen earlier with a pink ribbon around it. Call me crazy, but this seemed like a sign. When I made it back to this cairn after hiking Blanca I brought out my GPS, and guess what? The cutoff was right where I was, at the pink cairn.
Once I found the trail it was really easy to follow. There were tons of cairns leading up the side of the mountain and to the left. The rock was loose but I never felt like I was going to slip or fall. And the sun came out! Woohoo! I felt like the hike up Blanca was more difficult than the hike up Ellingwood (due to the wind and ice, I’m sure it would have been cheery on a warmer day).
The only down side was the false summit, but it was really close to the actual summit, so it was ok.
There were 3 or 4 people on the summit already, and one offered to take my picture. I pointed out Mt. Lindsey in the background. It was 11:15am.
And then I was off on my way back down. I knew I had a long hike ahead of me, and I wanted to get started.
The hike down was long but uneventful. I wasn’t very tired, which surprised me, especially after my other hikes this week. The trail was well maintained, which made it easy to follow
I’m pretty sure this is the cutoff for Little Bear
I saw several modified jeeps (etc.) headed up Lake Como Road. I saw them in groups of 3-4, and passed no less than 4 groups. That’s a lot of vehicles headed to the lake! I just hoped no one was trying to drive back down…
I made it to my truck at 3pm, making this a 15 mile hike with 5800’ of elevation gain in 10 hours.
Oh, and you know what ROCKS about this hike? I’ve now summited 29 unique 14ers: I’m halfway to 58!
I purposely saved this hike for fall: I’d been told by many the fall colors were magnificent,
and they were right! I also needed to
hike and get back home early today (my daughter has homecoming football game
tonight) so I needed a short hike.
Last night I checked the weather: 50% chance of snow overnight, but clear and
windy in the morning. I threw a pair of crampons
in my pack and loaded the truck so all I had to do was pour coffee at 2am and I
was on the road.
I was doing great on the drive until about 7 miles down road
390. That’s when my GPS said “You’re
here!”, but I clearly wasn’t. So I got
out my backup instructions (I always have several) and figured the rest of the
way out from where I’d ended up.
Basically when you get to Winfield you turn left:
And then the 4WD road starts. It is most certainly a 4WD road. Here are pictures of some of the worst of it
And some of the parking at the trailhead.
I made it to the trailhead and started at 5:45am. (Yes, these pictures were taken on the way back). I LOVE trailheads with obvious signs!
It was pitch black, so I couldn’t see if it had snowed, but
it was obvious it had rained overnight. There
was a lot of wind, and it felt like a crisp fall morning with leaves raining
down. I crossed a stream
And then came the switchbacks. There were tons of switchbacks, and for some
reason they all had alternate trails at the curves (see picture below). This isn’t a big deal in the daylight, where
you can tell which way the main trail goes, but in the dark it’s not so
obvious. And this was at every single
switchback! It’s like people hiking this
trail really need a place to relieve themselves at each switchback? Anyway, after the second time I figured out
to just expect the trail to actually curve and go up the hill and not to go
straight. I really had to pay attention to the trail to look for it curving
up.
The trail looked like this until I made it to the basin
Just before making it to the basin it began to get light out
and I could see snow on the mountains around me. It was beautiful! I gave myself a silent hi-five for packing
the crampons and tried to capture a few pictures in the dark.
It was like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting!
I made it to the top of the hill and entered a basin. Huron is the peak to the right.
This is where the hike started getting cold. Really, really cold. Water had frozen on the ground and made the hike
slippery. And that wind! Just as predicted it was flying by at about
25-30mph, and not letting up.
I continued through the basin and saw fresh tracks. They looked to be coyote or bobcat.
Then I saw more tracks (hooves) of an adult and baby,
followed by the tracks I’d seen before.
At this point I realized it was probably a goat or sheep mama
and baby being hunted by the owners of the previous tracks. I never saw any animals this morning. Not even a pika or marmot (but lots of
tracks)
The trail here is pretty well maintained, but the ice made
it slippery.
At the end of the basin the trail was covered in snow and
slippery in most spots, so I decided to put on my crampons. This was an excellent choice! The snow was over a foot deep in places and where
there wasn’t snow there was ice.
If you don’t own crampons (microspikes) you should. They are amazing! I was able to walk on the ice on the boulders
without slipping. They’re a
lifesaver!
It was still cold however, and very windy. I’m overly susceptible to the cold
(read: I was miserable and lost feeling in
my fingers). I should have packed a
scarf. Oh well, next time. At least I
had my ski gloves and beanie.
The sun still hadn’t risen over the ridge when I made it to
the final gain for the summit
When I reached the ridge I was greeted with SUN! The temperature rose a good 15 degrees, but
the wind picked up too. There were
several times it knocked me over, and I thanked the peak for not having serious
exposure. I stuck to the ridge.
The final 500 feet or so of elevation was a bit of a climb,
but fun in my crampons. It looks like loose dirt/scree under that snow, so I’m
not sure how much fun it is to climb sans snow.
The views from the summit were phenomenal! The combination of snow with the changing
colors of the fall made for an amazing backdrop!
I took a summitselfie to prove I’d made it and started my
way down. (I summited at 7:45am).
Funny thing, there wasn’t much wind on the summit, but as
soon as I started back down the wind picked up again. And I was hiking back in the shade until I
made it back down to the basin (read: I was cold until I reached the basin). I saw one other person before making it to
the basin, then 4 people in the basin, and two at the end of the trail. Not many people out today! Oh, and several of these people were wearing
shorts, and were in for a big surprise when they hit the snow!
I made it back to the trailhead just before 9:45am, so I did
the 7 miles in 4 hours (including stopping at the summit and for pictures).
When I got to the trailhead I saw a small pond I hadn’t seen
before
And beauty everywhere!
The 2WD part of the drive back was magnificent as well! I love the colors of fall!
·
If you’re thinking about making Redcloud and
Sunshine a loop and it isn’t winter, don’t.
·
Don’t do the loop unless you LOVE, LOVE, LOVE
gullies (I don’t love gullies)
·
If you do decide to do the loop, wear a helmet
and crampons (for the rocks & scree, not snow)
·
Don’t do the loop
Since I’m not a fan of sleeping at trailheads I woke up at
midnight and drove five and a half hours to the Grizzly Gulch/Silver Creek
trailhead. I missed a turn (I blame the
lack of signs) and ended up not making it to the trailhead until 6:30am, which
meant I didn’t start until 6:45am. This
is the latest start I’ve ever had on a 14er.
Yes, I was pretty mad at myself.
In any event, here’s what the rough 2WD road to the trailhead looks
like:
There were a few bumpy spots, and a lot of puddles. Unless your car is lowered, it can probably
make it.
OK, so I started at 6:45am, which meant the sun was already
out. Here’s the trailhead
parking/bathroom situation.
As I was leaving my car I saw a man rushing down the
hill. Apparently his friend was visiting
from out of state, and he’d forgotten the beer at his car. Luckily they weren’t too far into the trail
when he realized his mistake, and he was rushing back to get it. I wished him luck, and silently thought to
myself it would probably be a better idea to enjoy the beer after successfully
making it back to the vehicle. I any
event, I appreciated his enthusiasm.
The trail up was very well maintained
And the aspens are just starting to change color.
The first part of this hike follows the Silver Creek. It was absolutely beautiful in contrast to
the red rocks.
For reference to those of you who do choose to do the loop,
here’s where you either turn right to go up Sunshine first, or where you come
out after making the loop. It wasn’t
obvious, as it just looks like a trail to the creek. Note the placement of the mountains in the
back.
The trail did include a lot of scree
Once I reached the basin the trail evened out for a bit,
then climbed up to the right.
Here you can see Redcloud
It’s important when you get to the saddle to turn
right. A lot of people were turning left
to head to a beautiful 13er, but it isn’t on the trail to Redcloud.
Here’s a look at the trail up Redcloud. As you can see, it has a false summit (right)
and true summit (left).
And once again, a view of the false and true summit
From the saddle the final push wasn’t too bad
I took a shadowselfie because I do that type of thing
And a picture of me at the summit.
I had the summit all to myself. The pair of guys hiking behind me was about a
mile behind me at this point.
I turned and looked south to Sunshine Peak. It was a good mile and a half to this summit.
It looked like another double summit was
in order!
Take note here for those of you who wish to make this a loop
instead of crossing back over Redcloud to head back to the trailhead: The topo map shows this as a blue line above
#3,
but when I passed the place this intersects I saw this sign
indicating it’s NOT a trail and not to use it as such (14ers.com states the
same).
The hike up Sunshine was long but steady. Here’s my summit photo.
Here I got out my maps and tried to decide which route to
follow. I knew not to go down the saddle
from Sunshine, and I really didn’t want to go back over Redcloud (that 1.5
miles and another summit climb didn’t sound like fun).
When I have the option I try to make my hikes a loop, and
that seemed like an option when looking at my map (I took the loop below the 3). It included a gully, which I’m not fond of,
but it looked like a doable trail. I
brought up my GPX file and looked at the pictures. Yes, it looked doable as a difficult class 2. So I headed down the Northwest Face of
Sunshine. It hugged a ridge, and was
FULL of exposure, rock, and scree
When I made it down the ridge this is what I saw. It looked like a pretty easy way to hike down
Until I hit the top of the gully. This is what it looked like from the top
I noticed several cairns indicating several different ways
to go down the gullies, but I wanted to stick with my GPS route. So I did some investigating, looking over and
around as much as possible. In the end I
decided to go with the GPS suggestion.
I put my camera and hiking pole in my bag and took a deep
breath. This was going to be an
adventure! I slid more than I hiked, but
I was careful and made it down my gully of choice without stopping/getting
stuck. I carefully close each
step/foothold, and hand placement, and thought to myself how one wrong move
would result in my sliding down a rocky slope for several hundred feet. It was very slippery and a bit scary but it
was obvious this was how I was intended to complete the trail. Here’s what it looked like from the bottom.
This is the route I took.
I can’t imagine hiking up this!!!
I was deposited in a basin and could see the trail I needed
to connect with further ahead, so I just started walking towards that
trail. There were cairns, which was
helpful, but not needed on the way back because I could see where the trail
led. Here’s a picture looking back at
the gullies
And a picture of the hike ahead.
I came to the stream where two men dressed in camo, along
with their black lab, greeted me: “You
must have some big ovaries to have hiked that!”
I was a bit confused until they told me they’d seen me climb
down the gully. They had binoculars,
heard a few rocks drop, and thought they’d be seeing a rockslide. Instead they saw me descend the gully and
were quite impressed. Their exact words
were that I “seemed in control the whole time”. They also said two guys came down behind me,
or at least they think they did. They
saw two guys looking at the cairns and trying to descent to the right. I mentally thought about those two guys
behind me and the beer. Ugh. I hope they made it!
I smiled, wished them luck, and tried to quicken my
pace. I still wanted to get in one more
peak today if the weather allowed.
Almost immediately it started hailing from out of
nowhere. It was cloudy but didn’t look like
hail. The hail/rain came down quickly,
and was over in 5 minutes.
At this point I connected with the Silver Creek trail and
headed back down to the trailhead.
I’d started at 6:45am, and it was now 12:30pm. The hike had taken me almost 6 hours, 12.25miles,
4669’ elevation gain.
Now I had a choice to make.
Should I hike Handies Peak or spend the night in my truck and try to
hike it in the morning? I was
exhausted. I mean really, really
tired. My lungs hurt and so did my
calves. I hadn’t eaten all day (besides
some beef jerky and dried bananas along the trail) and I was running on 3 hours
of sleep. And it looked like a small
storm was going to roll through. The
only thing keeping me from stopping and getting some rest was the thought of
sleeping at the trailhead. I know from
past experience this never ends well.
Although I try I’m never able to sleep, and I’m always really, really
cold. I have Raynauds, so I’m overly susceptible
to the cold, no matter how much I bundle up.
It makes for miserable trailhead camping experiences. I did not want to get up at 5am freezing cold
and try to start out on a hike. It takes
me forever to defrost!
I decided I’d attempt Handies. I knew I could always turn back, since I didn’t
really need to summit today. If the
weather got too bad or I felt I couldn’t go on I’d just head back to the truck,
sleep, and try again tomorrow.
So I grabbed my new maps and headed up the Grizzly Gulch
trail, crossing a bridge
The aspen trees here were also beginning to turn
I was hiking slow. I
mean, really, really slow. I usually
hike around 2mph when hiking 14ers, rarely stopping to do much but take
pictures. However, on this hike I found
myself stopping every 50 feet or so to catch my breath. This wasn’t normal, especially for such an “easy”
hike. I was embarrassed for myself, but
explained it away: I’d hiked Mt. Lindsey
yesterday, and Redcloud and Sunshine Peaks this morning. That’s a lot of mileage and elevation gain/loss
in under 24 hours. I was allowed to be a
bit tired, right? I was still upset with
myself. Breathing only got more difficult.
I continued on, rounded a corner, and I saw her: A beautiful mama moose! I knew she was a mama because I could hear
her calf braying in the bushes somewhere like a donkey jumping in circles. It was an adorable sound! However, Moose are dangerous and known to
charge, especially mamas protecting their babies. She was really close on the trail so I gave
her a wide berth and didn’t make eye contact.
I took this one picture from behind a tree and hurried on. She kept her eyes on me the entire time I was
in view. It was a bit daunting, but
really, really cool. I usually expect to
see Moose in meadows, so seeing on in the trees, and so close, caught me off
guard. In fact at first I’d thought she
was a horse. In any event, cool
experience! I was already glad I’d made
the decision to hike Handies today.
Then I heard the thunder.
Great. I looked up, but the
clouds didn’t look threatening. I exited
the trees and came into the basin and caught my first glimpse of Handies.
I saw a quick flash of lightening and began
counting/mentally calculating my options.
I looked up at the clouds again.
Hmmm. Now I had a choice to
make. The clouds really didn’t look
threatening, but I’d heard thunder and seen a bit of lightening. Thunder was rumbling in the clouds but there
was no more lightening after that one bit (it didn’t hit the ground, but stayed
in the clouds). The wind was moving to
the Southwest of me (I could see the clouds moving) and behind the peak I could
see sunlight. I was hiking very, very
slowly. I decided it would probably take
me longer to summit than it would take those clouds to pass, so slowly I
continued on. At this point I knew I was
the only one on the trail (I couldn’t see anyone ahead of me and no one else
was signed in the trial register. I’d
also passed someone who told me they were the last one up today).
I continued on at a slow but steady pace. By now I was stopping every 25 feet to catch
my breath. I wanted to cry. This was an easy peak, and yet I hadn’t been
this tired/sore/exhausted since climbing my first 14er (Pikes Peak 26 mile
route). It kept sprinkling off and on,
so I kept putting my jacket off and on.
It was a nice excuse to stop and still be “productive”. I kept my eye on the sky.
I was about ¾ of the way through the basin when I looked up
and saw sheets of ice raining down from the direction of Handies. It looked like it was going to hail again,
and here I was, 2 miles above treeline, with no place to go. I’d known this was a possibility when I’d
started this hike, so I pulled up my hood, turned against the wind, and braced
myself. I knew these storms usually only
last a few minutes or so, and this one was over in about 5 minutes. It left me with a wonderful view! Check out that layer of hail/snow (graupel?)
This was cool! It was
beautiful, and just as I’d predicted, there was sunlight after the brief storm. I stopped to take off my jacket and heard
what sounded like a loud clap, then tumbling.
The brief storm had caused a rockslide!
I couldn’t see where it was coming from, but I could hear a steady
stream of rocks tumbling down. I tried
to get it on video, but due to the wind didn’t come out very well. For the rest of the hike I heard rocks
tumbling. Geological time is now people!
The last mile and a half seemed quite steep. The elevation gain seemed more here than I was used to, but it was a short hike to the summit, so I guess I needed to make up elevation somewhere.
Did I mention I was hiking slow? I mean really, really slow? After the storm my paced slowed to hiking 10 steps, stopping to breathe for 5 seconds, and continuing. I was hurting all over, couldn’t breathe, and even this pace seemed to be killing me. I was mad at my body, but kept going. I knew the storm threat had passed, and I could see the summit. I was going to make it: Just give me a second to breathe.
At this point I looked down at my feet saw a rock shaped like a skull. It was about the same size too. This took me back for a second, but I decided to do the obvious thing and take it as a good omen and continued on. No pictures of the rock (it seemed morbid and too much like negative foreshadowing). The peak was once again in the clouds. Weather changes quickly on 14rs!
The last quarter mile was steep scree, with loose rocks wet from the recent storm. Read: slippery. I had to hike even slower, but I enjoyed it when I got to the rocky part because it meant using different muscles in my legs. Climbing was easier than hiking. This was actually a lot easier than it looked (besides being slippery).
Woohoo! Another false summit! That’s three for three for today!
I turned around and looked back on the basin I’d hiked, with Redcloud and Sunshine in the background. Pretty awesome!
I made it the final push to the summit winded, out of breath, and with a frozen face and fingers. I couldn’t smile because my lips were frozen, but I’d made it!
I was super proud of myself, but ready to hike back down. My body seemed to enjoy hiking down as compared to up (I didn’t need to stop/rest/catch my breath). The clouds continued to swirl around the mountain
After I’d hiked about a mile down the sun came out and birds/pikas/marmots started chirping. The rest of the hike was uneventful (I looked but didn’t see the moose again). I was very, very proud of myself for making the decision to hike when I did. It was probably the most exhausting hike I’ve ever done. I started at 12:45pm and didn’t make it back to my truck until 5:30pm. That’s 5 hours for an 8 mile hike. Ouch!
When I made it back to my truck I was hungry and tired, so I made some Mountain House Lasagna, thinking I’d eat the entire serving and still be hungry. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t even able to finish half the meal. I sealed it up, put it away, changed my clothes, and hopped into my sleeping bag, exhausted. I pulled out Roach’s book, and looked up my Sunshine descent today. His notes: “Avoid this route of Sunshine’s West Gullies are snow free”. SMH.
1: When I got up I
needed to fold some laundry, start a new load, and clean up from the kids’ late
night baking session (the dishwasher was full and needed to be unloaded and
then loaded again).
2: The I25 was closed
for 2 exits and the detour took forever because of all the semis trying to
navigate the downtown streets.
So even though I got up at 2am I made it to the Huerfano /
Lily Lake Trailhead at 6:15am. Here are
some pics of the easy 4WD road to the trailhead.
There were two other cars in the parking lot (which could
probably hold 10 in the immediate area, but there was a lot of room on the road
itself as well). I was on the trail by
6:30pm. It was just beginning to get
light outside.
The beginning of this hike was pretty easy. It followed a creek and a boulder field.
I could tell the views on the way back were going to be
amazing!
I followed a waterfall up a hill and saw two hikers at the
mine. (Side note, I had an epiphany
here: Mine probably came from the word “mine”. Think about it). Anyway, they were on the other side of the
stream and couldn’t hear me, so I waved and continued on.
Here’s my first view of Mt. Lindsey. It’s the peak to the center right.
I crossed this basin and ascended the hillside. At the top I took a shadow selfie, because
that’s what I do.
Here I reached a saddle, and decided to leave my hiking pole
at a cairn, as this was a class 3 hike/climb and it wouldn’t help any when I
needed two hands. I took a picture of
both sides of Mt. Lindsey and put my camera away.
It was here I met a man who stopped me: “Hey, do you blog?”
Me: “Yes”
Man: “Aren’t you
WildWanderer? I’ve seen all your stuff
on the 14ers site. You’re famous! You’ve been rocking out the peaks this
summer!”
I thanked him, argued a bit about the “famous” part, and was
on my way.
We met up again while I was putting on my helmet. I was trying to figure out my route. I didn’t want to hold my map as I was
climbing, so I was studying the picture I had and what I could see in front of
me. I didn’t want to take the gully
(blue line) because I’m not a fan of gullies.
I wanted to take the pink line, as that’s an easy class 3.
I put on my helmet, put away my map, and started my way
up. I’d told myself to just hug the left
side of the ridge and I’d be fine. The
sunlight was blinding, shining directly in my eyes. It was difficult to see any sort of
trail. It took some maneuvering, but I felt
I was doing pretty well. Until I came to
the crux. That’s where the route
diverges into 3 different parts about halfway up the ridge. However, I couldn’t tell that was where I was
at. Looking at a picture/map is totally
different from when you’re actually climbing.
You can’t see much in front of you or behind you while climbing, so you
have to go by memory. I knew I was good
as long as I stayed to the left of the ridge, so I looked up and started
climbing. The easiest route looked to be
the pitch, so that’s where I went. It
wasn’t too hard until I was almost all the way up. This is what it looked like:
I kept thinking to myself as I was climbing: “This is MUCH
harder than Longs Peak. Aren’t they both
supposed to be class 3’s?” My research
had told me Longs was harder than Lindsey.
I felt what I was doing was within my abilities, but why was this so
difficult? And why did this feel so much more difficult than Longs?
By this time the man who’d talked with me before had caught
up with me again. I was doing the route
finding and he was following me. Since I
had an extra pair of eyes I called back to him “Hey, from where you’re standing
does it look like this line goes to the top?”
He said it did, and I was almost there. Great! Except I didn’t fit though the path I
needed to take, and going back down wasn’t an option I wanted to take. I’m not a big girl (5’4”, 105lbs), but in
order to make this move I’d need to remove my backpack and lift myself/crawl sideways
and up through a tight space. Once
again, I felt secure I could do this (without my backpack). I discussed this with the man below me, and
we decided to help each other out: I
took off my backpack, climbed up, and he handed it up to me, then took off his
and handed me his backpack. This worked
great, and we both made it! The entire
time I kept thinking to myself how I did NOT want to go down this way! I couldn’t see what was below me, and even
knowing there was a ledge just beyond my sight I knew it’d be suicide. I needed to find a safer route down.
We separated once again and I was off to find the
summit. This part of the hike was
slippery with a lot of loose rock. When
I finally gained the ridge to what I hoped was Mt. Lindsey I realized I was at
Northwest Lindsey (14,020). Luckily I
could see Mt. Lindsey in the distance.
I thought briefly about taking a picture of me summiting
here, but didn’t deem it as too important, so I pressed on.
The rest of the hike was easy. I followed the small saddle towards Mt.
Lindsey, and then looked back at Northwest Lindsey.
This part of the hike was only about 200 yards, and soon I
summited! I was the first to summit
today!
I got out my map and looked at my options for the way
down. That’s when I realized I’d hiked a
class 4! Check this out: Here’s a picture of what I’d intended to
climb (the pink route)
And what I actually climbed (the red line).
Now everything made sense!
When the man I’d climbed with reached the summit I told him about our
achievement and we fist-bumped. Then
promptly discussed taking the gully back down.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this because I didn’t know where it started
back down. I passed several gullies and
wanted to be sure I was hiking the correct one on my way down. My intent was to hike back the way I’d came,
but to try to find the class 3 route down.
If I couldn’t, I’d load my GPS with different directions and go looking
for the correct gully.
I was off, and on my way back decided to indeed take a
picture at Northwest Lindsey, just because I don’t’ ever want to climb this
mountain again and I wanted proof I’d been here. That class 4 part was really the climb up
Northwest Lindsey, so I felt I’d earned a picture.
Here’s the way back to Northwest Lindsey
And my summit selfie
As I started down I noticed the couple I’d passed at the
mine coming up what I presumed was the gully.
We talked about their route up, and they gave me directions back down
the gully. This seemed like a good
option. All I needed to do was aim for
the red dirt in the middle right of this picture, and then the route down would
be visible.
So that’s what I did.
And this is what that route looked like:
It wasn’t very much fun.
I’m not sure which was worse, the ridge up or the gully down. In fact, as I met hikers trying to make the
decision which route to take I wasn’t sure what to tell them. They were both pretty crummy. I was just glad I didn’t need to do either of
them ever again.
As I reached the saddle I turned and looked back at the
mountain. Can you see the class 4 pitch?
Here it is…
I felt like a badass as I continued hiking back down.
I talked to a bunch of hikers on the way down, but didn’t
see anyone after I reached the saddle.
Except for a marmot in all his glory.
The trail went through a pine forest, which was lovely
except the evergreens are losing their needles for some reason. The ground was littered with green pine
needles, which are extremely slippery.
The trees are just starting to change colors here.
Oh, and I found a patch of wild strawberries by the
stream! I love hiking this time of year
because of things like this!
So, here are my final stats:
Started hike at 6:30am
Summited around 9:15am (I looked but forgot the time…)
Made it back to my Truck at 12pm
Total hike time: 5 hours 30 minutes
Total Mileage: 8.25 miles
Total Elevation Gain: 3500’ (it felt like way more)
This is the most fun I’ve ever had climbing a 14er! This hike is the hike I’ve been waiting for,
I just didn’t know it meant I’d need to hike a class 3 to get it.
I have a very Type A personality, so I do a lot of research
before going out on a hike. I usually
have no less than 3 maps (one on my phone and one in my backpack, another in my
pocket) a compass and altimeter on my phone and a manual one in my daypack, and
multiple versions of directions/checkpoints (including a GPS).
I’ve been trying to do this hike for a while now, as I
thought I was “ready” for a class 3, but the weather and my schedule wasn’t
cooperating, so it got pushed back. Last
night when I looked at the weather it said 30% chance of showers until 1pm and
winds at 9-13mph. That was by far the
best forecast I’d seen on a day I was able to hike, so I chose this one for
today (that and the forecast for Tour de Massive called for snow today, so that
was out).
My research told me the Longs Peak Trailhead fills up FAST
on weekends, and if I wasn’t there by 3am I might as well forget it. This is Labor Day weekend so I woke up after
a quick nap at midnight and drove to the trailhead. I’m not a fan of crowds, especially when I’m
hiking. It’s totally worth it to me to
wake up early to avoid seeing dozens of people on the trail. Not to mention I knew some parts of this
trail got bottlenecks when there were too many people hiking. I didn’t want to experience that.
When I got there at 2:45am there were about 10 cars in a 50
car lot. Did I mention it’s a Friday on
Labor Day weekend? This was not what I’d
expected, but I was pleasantly surprised.
The weather was warm (about 60 degrees) and it looked like I wouldn’t
run into too many people on this well trafficked route. This was turning out to be a wonderful hike,
and it hadn’t even started!
I got my gear out of my truck and was on the trail by
3am. I hiked all the way to the Keyhole
in the dark, so the only picture I have is this one from just above
treeline.
Much of this hike is above treeline. I have pictures to share but that will have
to come later in the post as I took them on the way back down in the
sunlight.
As soon as I hit treeline the wind picked up and the
temperature dropped. The wind was icy,
and not the 9-13mph winds as predicted, but 30mph+ gusts of cold air that took
forever to pass. I was miserable, and
put on my snow gloves and hat. Twice it
almost knocked me over and I had to brace myself on a rock.
All of my directions were great, but in the end not really
needed. The trail was heavily marked
with new signs all the way to the boulder field. I kept checking my GPS just in case, but I
was always right on route.
Until I hit the Boulder Field. This is where things got iffy. You see, I was hiking faster than I’d thought
I’d hike, and I’d made it there when it was still about an hour from
daylight. The trail kind of ended and I wasn’t
sure what to do. I knew I was supposed
to walk towards the Keyhole, but in the blackness I didn’t know where exactly
it was (or where I was in the boulder field for that matter). By this point I’d passed everyone else on the
trail (I knew this because I couldn’t see any more flashlights shining in front
of me) and those behind me chose to sit and wait for daylight. That was going to be over an hour away and I
didn’t want to wait that long.
I looked around for some cairns. It took a good 5 minutes, but I found one! Lucky me!
I hiked toward it, stopped, and looked for another one. I kept doing this and one by one they led me
to the campsites in the Boulder Field.
Everyone was still asleep. I
continued on, and soon I could see enough to tell I was at the base of the
Keyhole, so I just climbed up towards it and through to the other side. That was much easier than I’d
anticipated. And I’d done it in the
dark!
This is where the hike got REALLY FUN!!!
The wind died down a bit, but now I was surrounded in
clouds. This ended up being a good thing
because it minimized my perceived exposure.
I put on my helmet, looked left, pointed my flashlight, and followed the
bullseyes. This was surprisingly
simple. I’m all about LNT, but I’m sure
these bullseyes have saved lives.
About 10 minutes after passing the Keyhole the sun had risen
enough for me to turn off my flashlight, which was a good thing because I
needed two hands to scramble on the rocks.
There were a few really tough places, but mainly because of my
height. I’m about 5’4” but I really
could have used 2-4 inches of height to climb in many areas, but I found if I
stopped and looked around, sometimes I could find footholds behind me to help
me out.
The part of the hike that was stated as the most difficult, “the
trough” was actually where I found the most satisfaction: I was so ready for this climb! My upper body strength was way better than I’d
anticipated, I didn’t need to stop to catch my breath/take breaks, and I was
being creative and learning with my climbing.
And I was doing it! Yes, there
were bullseyes to point the way, but I was doing this on my own, without
someone there to help me (and felt confident with my directions I could have
navigated through the trough). I was
climbing a class 3!
The narrows weren’t scary or difficult, but I also had cloud
cover blocking the drop, so I’m a bit biased.
The Homestretch loomed before me and I took a deep
breath. It looked just like the picture
I’d seen online, but being here in person I could visibly pick a line and just
go with it. So I did. I didn’t follow the bullseyes here, but the
route I felt most comfortable climbing. I
just have to say, I was so lucky I had decent weather today. In no way could I have done this if it had
been raining (look at pictures to come).
It would have been a waterslide the entire way down and I don’t mean
that in a good way! I have great hiking
shoes, but rock climbing shoes would really have been helpful here. When my shoes got wet they slipped on the
granite.
I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and before I
knew it, I was on the summit! I was
immediately overwhelmed. You know that
feeling you get when you’re so happy you want to cry and you start taking
really quick-deep breaths and your heartbeat races and your eyes start to tear
up? That’s what happened to me (all
except the eyes tearing up part). I was
overcome with emotion, and immediately on cloud 9! I’d done it!
I’d actually done it! For the
first time I’d climbed a class 3, and I’d done it all by myself, without
someone to follow or help me along. I was the first one to summit that day (it
was 7:05am) and had the summit all to myself!
This was fan-freaking-tastic!!!
The only downside were the clouds: they were moving in and out and obscuring the
view. They were really cool to watch
though.
I was surprised at how flat the summit was.
I took some pictures and got to thinking: I’d really wanted to do 2 summits today: Long’s Peak, and an unranked peak referred to
as Southeast Longs that was really close to where I was now, but required a
different route. It was my intention to
make this a loop, hiking up the Keyhole route and down the Loft route. However, it’s not much fun to hike in the
dark. All you see are the shadows cast
from your flashlight, and those can be a bit scary. I wanted to see what I’d missed seeing on my
hike up. I’d seriously enjoyed this
hike, but I didn’t have any pictures to show for the places I’d been because I’d
hiked them in the dark. In my excitement
I decided I’d enjoyed this hike so much I’d come back and do Southeast Longs on
another trip, going up via the Loft route.
In other words, I was going back down the way I’d came.
I didn’t want to stay too long on the summit so I gathered
up my stuff and headed back down. I knew
I’d only completed half of the climb. I’d
need hike down what I’d climbed up. Here
are the pictures from the way down:
Here’s the homestretch
And the narrows
The exposure was blocked by clouds for parts of the route
Shadowselfie (because I do that kind of thing)
I didn’t see anyone until I was on my way down the narrows,
and no one I saw had a helmet. This
disappointed me. It was really easy to
accidentally kick loose rocks onto climbers below. It would suck to get hit in the head with one
of those rolling rocks!
The trough was really exciting!
When I hit the Keyhole the sun came out through the clouds
and I was able to see the Boulder Field. Holy Smokes!
I’d hiked through that in the dark?
How did I EVER find my way?
As I climbed down I realized something that made me
laugh: There were cairns EVERYWHERE with
no particular purpose. Throughout the
Boulder Field, dozens, if not hundreds of cairns had been placed in obscure
positions, as if someone just had a hobby of making cairns. This morning I’d followed one cairn to the
next and eventually they led me to the Keyhole, but in reality they shouldn’t
have! I must have been looking in the
direction I thought the Keyhole should be, and found cairns to validate my
theory.
I passed the tent sites in the Boulder Field, which are
really just large areas surrounded by rocks to break the wind. There’s a bivy here too.
The Boulder Field seemed to go on forever. I kept looking back to get a picture of Longs
Peak, but it was constantly surrounded with clouds.
That is, until I was just about to the place where I’d lose
site of the mountain. That’s when the
clouds lifted and Long’s Peak waved goodbye.
The trail from the Boulder Field back down was very well
maintained.
This is my absolute favorite 14er hike ever! I felt my abilities perfectly matched the
mountain. I was challenged just enough,
and in shape to handle the physical challenges.
If you’re reading this and wondering if you are personally
ready to hike this mountain, please don’t take my above narrative as making it
sound easy, because it wasn’t. I’ve been
training years to complete this type of a hike.
I’m not trying to brag here, or compare myself to the amazingness of
trail runners (who are pretty much trail gods BTW, move over for them because
they are awesome!!!), but I’ve been running 5-10 miles a day with a minimum of
4000’ of elevation gain every day for the past 8 years. Every day. No breaks (unless I’m hiking a
14er, and I’ve been known to hit the gym after one like Bierdstadt or Evans). I also do an hour of Yoga a day, and this is
my 21st 14er this summer (33rd overall). I did the 26 mile route on Pikes Peak 12
times last summer. I’ve been training
both mentally and physically for years, and this hike fits me perfectly. It may not be the best hike for you,
especially if you don’t have a lot of experience. However, at this point, I want to hike more
class 3’s!
Oh, and for those of you keeping tally, I started at 3am,
summited at 7:05am, and was back down at my truck by 11am. I asked the park rangers there how long they
thought the trail was (because I’ve seen it listed as anywhere from 14.5-16
miles) and they said 15 miles. So I did
15 miles, with 5100’ elevation gain, in 8 hours. This includes stopping to take lots and lots
of pictures and stopping to talk with everyone I passed on the way down to make
sure they were doing ok.
Turn left at this sign and drive for about 2.7 miles up a
4WD road.
This is definitely a 4WD trailhead, but I know that means different things to different people, so here are some pictures of the worst areas. My Tundra did just fine.
If you can make it to the stream crossing you can make it all the way to 13,800’ as the trail gets easier from here. I saw a bunch of Jeeps, 4Runners, Tacomas, a
GMC full size truck, and other modified vehicles there. I parked here because I wanted the elevation gain /mileage. After parking I crossed the stream and headed left.
This was not the hike I’d wanted to take today. I had another one in mind but I had a 4pm meeting I needed to be at, so my plans changed. I needed something close, so now it was between Mt Princeton and Mt Antero. The beta on the Mt Princeton trailhead said a week ago a 4Runner was stuck in the middle of the trailhead, with no further updates. Not wanting to risk missing a hike due to a blocked trailhead I just went with Mt Antero.
As noted above, the trail was a 4WD trail and FUN in the dark! I love watching the shadows play across the road as my high beams light them up. It was a challenge, but fun in my Tundra.
I arrived at 5am. After parking and crossing the stream I headed left and hiked for about 3 miles in the dark. It was pitch black. I couldn’t see a thing when the dome light in my truck went off so I turned on my headlamp.
There are actually 4 grouse in this picture, a mama and three chicks about 3 or 4 her size. I swear they’re in the picture! They blend in very well.
This trail followed the 4WD trail just about the entire way. About halfway up the switchbacks it started to get icy. It looks like it snowed and rained yesterday, and that all turned to ice. That ice was SLIPPERY! I wished I’d brought crampons or microspikes or something as this ice slowed my speed.
I could tell I was the first person on the trail that day because there were no human footprints in the snow. I did see some goat tracks. At about 12,800’ I saw a Tundra parked on the hillside. See, my truck could have made it!
After this area the snow became more pronounced.
I had to really dig in my toes to keep from slipping. At this point I saw new tracks on the snow. The shoes were small and the stride was just about perfect with mine, so I assumed it was a female hiker. It looked like this person was hiking in Keds? What’s up with that? Funny thing, I didn’t see any footprints that looked like the person had slipped. There were also dog prints accompanying the shoe prints.
I continued up the hillside until I came to the end of the road. At this point I could see the rest of my climb, as well as a hiker climbing down from the summit. This is where the real hike begins. The rest was just walking up a road.
I began to see pika prints!
Here’s a look at the last part of the ridge
At this point I met the hiker in front of me. It was a young man (indeed wearing worn in Keds). The white Tundra I’d seen was his. He’d driven up the night before, slept in his truck, and started at 5am. We wished each other well and I continued on.
I got to climb this!
It’s actually MUCH easier than it looks in this picture (this hike is an
easy class 2 in my opinion).
The only thing that made this hike difficult was the snow. After I left the road I had trouble finding a trail (but I knew there was one). Everything looked the same with a dusting of snow.
I couldn’t see where others had hiked before, so I used the
rocks to scramble to the top.
Here’s a look back at the climb to the summit
And a picture of the summit wind wall
Picture proof I summited. I had the entire summit to myself!
I only stayed a few minutes, then it was time to head back down.
The way back down was a bit more challenging than the way up for a few reasons. It was easier to find the trail, but it was covered in snow.
The most challenging part however was the ice. I was slipping and sliding the whole way back down.
It doesn’t look that bad, but most of it was difficult to see. I had to keep looking at my feel to brace myself for the ice. Every time I looked up at the scenery I ended up hitting a patch of ice and flying backwards onto my butt. Not cool.
This ice continued most of the way back down until treeline. I really wished I’d have brought my crampons. I could have hiked much faster back down if I’d had them.
I knew I was almost done with the hike when I hit this tiny
stream crossing
I saw my truck on the other side of the larger stream and breathed a sigh of relief all 4 of my tires were still inflated. I love my truck, but I always worry!
I made it back down at exactly 10am, so it was a 5 hour hike
for me. On the drive back down I encountered a lot of Jeeps and Off
Road Vehicles. It was challenging navigating the 4WD road with more than one vehicle. I moved when possible, but many times I just couldn’t go backwards. It was really nice when other drivers backed up as well.
Oh, and I saw some of the leaves beginning to change. Seems early, but it’s just a little, so I guess it’s ok.
This hike isn’t one I’d do again. It was way too easy (despite the snow) and
not very pretty. No flowers or scenery to look at, just a lot of 4WD tracks.
Such a shame!
·The info I had said there’s usually snow until mid-July, but I hiked this August 18 and there was still quite a bit of snow.
·Ladies, this entire trail is above treeline andthere are no restrooms at the trailhead. Plan accordingly.
Trailhead info:
I drove my Tundra all the way to the 11,160’ trailhead that intersects with Pearl Pass, but if you can make it that far you can make it to 12,800’ (as long as you don’t mind the elevation decreasing). The road actually got EASIER after I’d parked but I didn’t know this until I’d started hiking. The only dicey parts would be if you had a long vehicle and needed to turn around. You wouldn’t be able to. (pictures later). Here’s a short video of the hardest part of the 4WD trail, just to give you a visual. Note: The sounds are not rocks hitting the underside of my car truck but the stuff I have hanging from my mirror making noise.
I woke up around 1:30am to make it to the trailhead by 6am. I don’t live close, and I don’t like to sleep at trailheads if I can help it (I’m better rested this way). This trailhead was not difficult to find, but it is 4WD.
Just after I crossed the creek I saw a group of 4 hikers. I passed them, then I got to thinking about how they had almost 2 miles to go, and I had an empty truck. There were storms predicted this afternoon, and I could save them at least an hour on their hike, valuable when storms are possible. If I was hiking and a vehicle passed me I’d want to be picked up (Como anyone?). I stopped, got out of my truck and asked if they’d like a ride to the upper trailhead.
I wasn’t sure they’d take the offer, mainly because some guys are big on making and bragging about mileage, but surprisingly they were thrilled with the opportunity. This made me feel good. Two sat in the cab and two sat in the bed of the truck. They were all very nice. We chatted for a bit as I drove up the 4WD trail about my truck (Tundra) and how well it was handling everything the road threw at it. They were from Kansas City on a guys trip to hike a few 14ers. Apparently they do this twice a year. Cool!
I parked at the Pearl Pass junction and we parted ways. Here are some pictures of the rest of the 4WD trail.
By the time I’d hiked to this junction at 12800’ I couldn’t see the hikers I’d picked up. I never saw them again on the hike, but I hope they summited! They had great attitudes!
Here the trail split in two and I went left to follow the trail to Castle Peak.
I crossed a small stream and then came to the first snow of the hike. It was easy to cross and hard-packed, if a little slippery (hey, it’s snow).
I took a shadowselfie with the snow because I do that kind of thing.
From here I could see Conundrum Peak to my right. You can hike this peak first, but I’d recommend hiking the higher peak first.
As you can see from this wonderfully edited picture, the trail zig-zags with switchbacks up the left side, and then follows a straight path across the mountain to the right.
This is what you see when you reach the top of all that wonderful scree.
Here is where the fun begins! There are several difficult class 2 scrambles on this route. I found several gullies that didn’t lead anywhere but up. Just know if you keep to the low right you should be able to find an easy route. If you’d like a challenge (and your party has helmets) by all means have fun going up the gullies. I did. Snap, Crackle, Pop!
Here’s a look back at what you’ve accomplished.
And a view of Conundrum Peak (notice it has 2 summits? The “true” summit is to the north).
Picture proof I summited
I was the only one on the summit and couldn’t see anyone on the trail behind me. I took several pictures of the mountains all around. Maroon Bells anyone?
I started my decent and immediately found a feather. I feel a Game of Thrones reference is valid here. I’ve never actually watched the show, but I have seen memes about sending a raven, and since I was on Castle Peak and all….
Moving on.
The feather parallels Conundrum’s ridge. I get to climb that!
But first I had to descend to the saddle, which included more fun scrambling.
And then going up another ridge.
I stopped to take a picture of the pond/small lake below. Anyone know the name of this pond, or is it just considered drainage? I looked (quick search of my topo and Roach’s book) and couldn’t find any info.
Here’s looking back at the ridge I just descended from Castle Peak. Notice the red rock at the bottom right of the ridge? That’s where the trail picks back up to head back down. It’s important…
Most of what I saw on these mountains consisted of rocks, but at least they were pretty to look at.
When I got to the top of the ridge there was a long flat section that was easy to cross.
Then there was a descent, and another ridge to climb. This wasn’t difficult.
Once again I was the only one on the summit (but I could hear hikers and their scree-valanches snap-crackle-popping from across the ridge).
Picture Proof I summited:
Now to head back down. I went back the way I’d hiked in, and at the saddle saw another hiker. He was surprised I was on the mountain (he thought he’d be the first to summit).
He didn’t know me, so he asked me how much faith I had in my abilities? He said the trail drops off into a gulley and leads out to snow. It’s full of scree and can get pretty dicey. I told him I had a helmet and gloves, but I’d think abot what he said and decide when I saw the trail. I knew no one was in front of me, so I didn’t need to worry about hitting anyone below me with scree, but he’d be above me.
I thought over what he’d said. How much faith did I have in my abilities? Well, I’d just summited my 20th unique 14er (and 31st overall). I’m now about 1/3 of the way done with the 14er challenge. I’ve climbed a few difficult class 2’s and I’ve hiked in the snow. How would I know my abilities if I didn’t challenge them? Looking down the mountain I could see where I needed to go. Even when I lost the trail (which was going to happen because there wasn’t a trail) I knew which point I needed to hike towards.
I decided to go for it. Here’s a picture of what it looked like when I started
I was pretty much on my butt with my feet sideways the entire time. Rocks were falling at a rapid pace below me and I was sliding fast. Luckily near the snow the rocks were wet and more packed. I was very thankful I was the only one on this part of the mountain. Anyone below me would have been hit in the head several times. This picture shows what’s below me and what I’ve just hiked. This is what it looked like after about 300 feet of hiking through incredibly loose scree.
I kept going and went directly down the gulley. As promised, it turned to snow. There was no good trail since I was the first one hiking today, but I could see where others had traversed in the past. I sat down, put my feet in front of me, and took a deep breath. And a picture.
Knowing what I had to do I started out slowly inching my way down, trying to get a feel for the density of the snow. It was hard packed but soft due to the sun. I didn’t have an ice pick (hello, August?) so I tried to slow myself by directing my feet into a “V”. That seemed to work pretty well. I didn’t want to go too fast and slide out of control since I didn’t have anything to stop myself if that happened.
Things started progressing pretty well and I got into it. This was fun! I made a great trail all the way down the mountain. When I stopped in front of the lake I thought to myself “This would make an awesome picture!” and reached for my cellphone.
It wasn’t there! It had fallen out of my pocket somewhere on that slide! Drat!
So I did the only logical thing: I hiked back up that mountain, praying inwardly the hiker I’d met and promised to wait for me didn’t start his descent until I was done. As luck would have it, I’d lost my phone at the very top of the slide. Wonderful. At least I was able to find it!
On a positive note I got in extra elevation on this hike, and since I’d already made a pretty good chute to slide down the first time, the second slide was much easier than the first. And since I had my phone I decided to take a quick video of the fun
I got up, knew I was supposed to hike left but hiked right instead because it meant traversing less snow and I knew it led to the Castle Trail back down.
When I got past the lake I turned around to look at my route. I’d started in the gulley (upper left) and slid down the entire mountainside. Twice. Awesome!
And my butt was wet
Now to hike back out. It was pretty simple, as I just followed my hike in. Funny thing: I never did see that hiker who gave me the advice? I didn’t see him go down the gulley or on the entire trail back. And you could pretty much see everything on that trail for about a mile in either direction. So he either spent a LOT of time on the summit, or took a different route down. Or we just missed each other somehow? There were about 5 cars at the 4WD trailhead when I got back down to my truck. I remember a 4 Runner but forgot what the others were.
In any event, this was a great hike! I was singing the entire way down, which means it was fortunate I was the only one on the trail. I always love new adventures!
Wild Wanderer 