Adventure in the Rockies

My first set of adventures in Colorado were spectacular and grandiose in scale and quick in time.  The thing about Colorado is that it’s elevated above sea lea.  I mean high.  Writing this in Durango, I am at an elevation of 6,512'.  Denver rests in the plains at 5,278'.  Compare that to the measly 165' of my hometown in PA and you can see why a kid can't breathe.  Mount Washington of the Presidential Range in the White Mountain National Forest reigns as the tallest peak in the Northeast at 6,288'.  So it's dry and high, which means I have to drink two gallons of water per day and focus on my breathing every time my heart rate rises so I don't hyperventilate.  My point is that my first two adventures in Colorado seem quite small, when I recount them on paper.  So small even, that I want to emphasize my need to survive.  To some this seems obvious; to the more extreme oriented of us, this is an excuse.  Most importantly, these small adventures were a big step for me towards the outdoor and self-propelled goals I have set for myself during my Colorado stay.

Chewie

Step 1:  Leave the wonderful comforts of my buddy Chewie's place in Denver and go explore the Rockies; namely, the Front Range.  This is the first view of the Rockies most drivers get as they proceed east to west.  They stretch from Pueblo, CO (southwest of Denver) to Cheyenne, WY.  The most popular and prominent of the peaks are that of Longs Peak, Mount Evans, and Pikes Peak (famous for its uphill rally car race).  Mr. Nitrous made a fabulous attempt at Longs earlier this year and encouraged me to give it a try.  So try I would.

 

First Glimpse of Longs Peak from Green Mountain, Boulder, CO

Longs Peak (14,259')

Longs Peak via the Keyhole Trail is a round trip of 15 miles, vertical ascent of roughly 4,838', and has a recommended start time of three am, allowing for 10-15 hours of total hiking.  This is a good challenge.  But like any dangerous activity, it is important to have a safe word.  My safe word was driven by an overwhelming desire to climb a foot higher than I have ever been previously, which occurred in a car driving over the Loveland Pass at 11.990' on I-70.  Thus, my safe word was 12,000' (even though my real goal was the Boulder Field at 12,800').

Very basic map at trail head

The plan was simple.  Leave Mr. Wang's before dusk, drive to Estes Park, hike in around dusk, set up camp at dark, sleep, be on top by daybreak.  There must be some cliché about well-intentioned plans going amiss.  I leave late from Denver forgetting to eat a proper dinner and miscalculating the distance to the trail head (1 hour 40 minutes instead of 50 minutes).  I lost service, while informing my supportive, redheaded confidant of my intentions, leading her to suspect I drove off a cliff (one bar of 4G reconciled this oversight later).  So I hike into the woods in the dark, with the goal of climbing 700' over 1.2 miles to a place called Goblin Forest, because none of this sounds creepy when you are planning exploration in the comfort of a furnished apartment.  Starting at 9,400' it was almost instantaneous that I could tell something was not right with my breathing.  I was moving at a methodical, if not slow pace and yet was out of breath.  Once I found the Goblin Forest, I post-holed crotch deep till I was sure there were no bear boxes (haiku soon to follow of bears in the woods) for camp food.  I set up my tent, hung my bear bag (far too close to camp because I'm always too tired to walk 500' away), and tried desperately to sleep for a few hours.

Note to self: don't believe the forecast.  Longs Peak was forecasted for a low of 34 on this night.  I brought my summer bag (32 degrees) with a 20-degree liner.  This system has kept me warm in far colder scenarios than 34.  But then it's midnight and Rocky Mountain blustery and you have to do a lot of sit-ups to maintain a healthy core temperature.  Three rough R.E.M. cycles later I was up and ready to hike.  Headlamp on, micro spikes attached, bladder hose thawed, it was four am and I was off.  By five am I had broken alpine (above the trees) and was looking at the faint orange glow of the eastern horizon.  After a few more up hill steps, I braced against what was already a devastating wind.  Again the forecast called for 15-20 mph with gusts of up to 30 mph.  The one factor the northeast shares with the big western mountains is their wind (Jay Peak winds always blow and Mt. Washington holds the record for highest ever wind speed observed by a human).  So I unpacked my down, zipped up my neck, and donned my hood.  Head lowered, I pressed forward until I was surrounded by light.  I was not lucky enough for divine intervention or a mountain summit, simply more wind and a growing sense of fatigue.  Sure I had been climbing for 3 hours, the air was thin, and the wind was blowing, but surely I had more energy than this.  At long last I reached the saddle and fork in the trail:  left to an icy lake with a summit view and right to Boulder Pass, the Boulder Field, the Keyhole, and the summit.  I wasn't even half way there.

Sunrise/Moonset

First real glimpse of the massif.

I was determined not to give up.  I pressed on across the hill towards the long switchback climbs to the Boulder Field.  With my face already raw from the wind, it didn't take much time for the sun's rays to bounce off the perfectly reflective snow and burn my face.  The traverse of just under a mile seemed to take an eternity.  I felt sluggish and my legs burned like I was partaking in an anaerobic workout.  When I faced the 800' curving climb to the Boulder Field at Boulder Pass, I realized I was thrilled with my accomplishment.  I did not give up, I will return.  But I was above 12,000' and that was a milestone.  I scrambled up a large pile of rubble boulders and took a hundred photos of my first panoramic view of the Rockies.  Then I got the hell out of there.

The hill to the Boulder Field and eventually to the Peak (lookers right)

Climbing down is always easier for me.  I like running down hill.  But I was still wary of the effects of elevation sickness and cautiously made my way down to camp, where I packed up and walked out to the car.  The sun was shining, it was a balmy 19 degrees, and you could see for days.  I made small talk with Rocky Mountain NP tourist and a couple that was going to hike Estes Cone.  It was a good day and not yet even ten am.  I knew I was headed south, but how to get there?

Estes Cone from Longs trail head.

How bout a northward detour through RMNP?  So I drove through RMNP with the intention of crossing the Continental divide on US-34. Only, US-34, like so many other routes along my journey was closed due to the season.  After experiencing Longs Peak and its local homie peaks from afar, I doubled back east through Roosevelt NF, drove south through Boulder, back west across 70, stopped at Vail once again for their lovely visitor center restrooms, and hit US-24 south through White River NF and then 285 through San Isabel NF and finally 50 west toward Montrose and the San Juan's.  

Longs through the Trees

Battle Mt., Estes Cone, Mt. Meeker, and Longs Peak

I camped in the Curecanti National Recreational Area along Elk Creek.  Bright sunshine and glistening waster woke me early the next morning.  There were huge valley walls topped with crowns of rock fifty feet tall.  While hiking to a breakfast spot in The Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP, I experienced the San Juan Mountain for the first time.  Walking out to a high point cliff on the north end of Black Canyon, I caught a glimpse of a wide, tall, snow capped mountain range with many teeth.  This would be my next adventure.

Breakfast nook

South to the San Juans

Bears and Eagles.

Curecanti NRA

Two days later I was camping along side Route 550 at Mineral Creek just outside Silverton and it was snowing.  Not as hard as earlier in the day, but it was snowing!  Two things lead to this excellent adventure opportunity.  One (1) Mr. Nyquist, brother of Mr. Nitrous and who's lovely residence I have been residing of late, was quite eager to earn his turns.  And two (2) there was a weather system moving into the San Juans that could be 6-12" worthy.  The nice thing about camping in the Rockies in a snowstorm is the ability to have a camp fire (Smokey says only You can prevent forest fires).  Also, car camping for the win!

Camp Vibes

The next day we awoke to a meager 4" of powder, but were determined to explore the area regardless.  We chose Mineral Creek because of a view I had during my initial drive through the San Juans via 550S.  I had an image of a crisp, white bowl a thousand feet wide and several hundred feet on either side that funneled into a thousand feet of chute skiing.  It's like the first time I ever saw...  Anyway I had brought Mr. Nyquist here and we were going to explore several routes to ascend to said bowl.  The issue was a creek.  We couldn't just park on the side of the road by a probable path in the folds of massive hills.  We had to find a crossing, and work back from there through 1" to 3' of snow.  Post-holing is not fun and our valley traverse was fairly unsuccessful until we climbed up two different small gullies.  First we decided to take a run down the larger but more firm of the two hills.  We had about 300' to play with and little idea how hard the pack was or how thin the coating (don't worry avalanche enthusiasts, the pack was stable).  Very stable. And hard.  

Snow Mechanics

Colorful Valley

After we decided we could have better snow in a shadowed chute off to the side of our first run. Tree covered, narrower, and steeper sounded like a better bet for better snow.   While only sliding down the bottom two-thirds of the hill, we still managed several soft, fresh turns, especially as the walls grew higher and narrower on the run out providing a parabolic amount of fun. 

Mr. Nyquist working his way up.

At this point we decided that a mid day snack and warm car ride would rejuvenate us to find some turns at Silverton Mountain.  Silverton Mountain is a one-lift ski resort six miles outside of an old mining town that now serves as hometown for a few hundred people maximum.  So few people go here that post cards are a dollar apiece! That’s absurd! But I digress.  We drove up the now snow covered dirt road scouting lines that looked climbable and slidable.  It was snowing again, not hard, but not soft, just right for an April ski day.  We came upon a long, tree-strewn gully where we could see more than 700 vertical feet of snow.  Despite having to cross another creek via two downed trees covered in snow, we decided to attack this one.  Here the slope was not too great, but certainly relentless.  We climbed for over an hour, taking short one to five minute breaks to catch our breath.  The altitude thing makes walking up extraordinary mountains all the more difficult.  Honestly, I think elevation does to the body the same thing as a good anaerobic workout.  The elevation makes me feel like I'm sprinting when really I am concentrating hard on keeping a slow cadence.  The same way the arid nature of elevated Colorado makes me concentrate on drinking plenty of water and doing it often.  The gully steepened and narrowed and we decided on a good drop point.  The snow was a dreamlike consistency, and I had a blissful, powdery line with natural whalebacks to toy over and tiny trees to avoid for five minutes of glorious descent.  Colorado Skiing is pretty good!

Earning Turns at Silverton

Altitude is a butt kicker

Also, I should mention that while in Colorado I have summited Green Mountain with Mr. Wang on a beautiful Saturday, irresponsibly run up a Smelter Mountain (refer back to altitude sickness), and bouldered for an hour in the middle of a trail run.  All of these things are conveniently available just down the road.  Durango, CO!