The Tetons

The Tetons
Why'd I go west? For the Rockies

Friday, October 23, 2015

That Camp Lyfe

Red Creek Valley



So the first thing I should probably do is explain my absence over the last few months.  I essentially lived under a rock all summer.  Or, more appropriately, between two large rocks in a valley of no reception.   From the beginning of June until mid August I lived in the Red Creek Valley where cell reception is less available than bears and mountain lions.  What the hell was I doing hunkered down for 72 days?  Good question. A question I asked myself and co workers that several times in late July.  What I was supposed to be doing was taking early high school aged kids into the wilderness and instructing them on how to live and explore appropriately and safely.  I did that and it was awesome.  I’ll go into more of that later.  But first, what else was I doing?  I mean, really how the hell did I end up in a summer camp making two bucks an hour, eating meat, cheese, and potatoes, and not communicating with my loved ones?
Red Creek Valley


I guess I should start with where I heard about this camp.  Mr. Nitrous’ brother, Mr. Dinosaur, discovered the camp in college and thought it’d be sweet to go work in Colorado for the summer.  He was right.  He would enjoy his time so much he’d return.  Mr. Dinosaur would also meet his wife, LJ, who was an administrator at the camp and move to Durango, CO.  So naturally, as I planned my move to Colorado, it seemed only right to go work with kids in a setting that was wild and full of adventure.  Beta, I thought, I would collect beta for all of my own personal adventures.  And get paid!  So what I guess I’m getting at is, was it worth it?  What I’m battling with is whether servant wages and impossible energy demands were worth the opportunity to live and walk around one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Goat


To be clear:  I hiked about 200 miles, saw snow atop a mountain in the Utah desert, walked along the Continental Divide and Colorado Trails, slept out under the Colorado stars a dozen nights, mountain biked for the first time, got back into rock climbing, summited two fourteen thousand foot mountains, saw an insane amount of shooting stars, and played a whole lot of Gaga.  It was a pretty damn good summer.  Of the 72 days I was employed at camp, I spent 35 in the backcountry.  This is the most adventure I’ve had the opportunity of doing and every one of those 35 days offered some special moment of outdoor experience I will not soon forget.  
Adventuresome Counselors


There are a lot of stories I would like to share, and I haven’t exactly been prolific in writing of late, so I want to start somewhere particularly easy.  My favorite trip(s) of the summer: one of which could be considered a failure and the other a total success, both of which occurred in one of Colorado’s most popular backcountry destination.  Chicago Basin is a beautiful area in the Waminuche Wilderness of the San Juan NF.  Situated between the Needle Mountains, Chicago Basin is home to three 14ers and Colombine Pass.  
The Peaks of Chicago Basin viewed from the North


We started our hike across from Purgatory Ski Resort and quickly descended into the Purgatory Flats where we hiked for a few miles along the Cascade Creek enjoying beautiful views of treacherous cascade hundreds of feet below.  The spring and early summer had been abnormally rainy and the creeks and rivers in southwest Colorado were raging with snowmelt and rain runoff.  This made Cascade Creek look far more like a flooded river than any creek I’d ever seen on the east coast.
Sunrise over Sunlight Peak


As I’ve already stated, I went into Chicago Basin twice this summer.  My first experience was grand and full of awe, but ultimately we ran into so much snow in Twin Lakes Basin that we had to turn back.  By so much snow I want to clarify that it was the 27th day of June and the first day of the year that 12,000’ had not gone below freezing temperatures (according to a passing group well prepared for the ascent with snow shoes, crampons, axes, helmets, etc).  Breaking trail meant post holing through crotch deep at 13,000’ for over a mile before starting the snow covered boulder hop ascent to the summit.  Turning back was a no brainer given the fact the expedition consisted of seven 15 year old kids and a co-counselor who wanted to kill me before we got paired for the trip.  I pushed the kids up as far as I could into Windom Basin and stopped to eat breakfast and watch the early morning sun rise over Sunlight Peak (14,058’).  With a clear view of both Windom Peak (14,088')and Sunlight Peak we took bets on the success of two climbers who ascended with us but pushed on due to higher level of gear preparation.  The climbers were prepared, but I was apprehensive of their success since we passed them on the initial ascent out of Chicago Basin up to Twin Lakes and one climber had a cotton Temple University Football shirt on.  As we sat in the warmth of the sun curiously watching the climbing stretch a few hundred yards ahead of us, we heard and felt a crack of thunder unrivaled by any storm and watched as a house-sized boulder cracked from the base of Sunlight Peak and tumbled towards Windom Basin bringing waves of snow in tail.  The morning was a success, but it was time to retreat to the warmth of a thousand feet below.  While I waited for the children and the inept counselor to gather their gear and prepare for the descent, I watched as the mountaineers of North Philadelphia began their retreat back towards Twin Lakes.  It was beautiful and powerful and I knew I’d return to tackle the first two 14ers I’d ever seen.
Photo Courtesy of Mr. Dinosaur


The rest of the summer came and went.  I failed in an attempt to summit a Centennial 13er yet again because of the unseasonable amounts of snow, but started climbing again and learned that mountain biking is just as fun or more fun than riding a street bike.  For the final trip of camp my good buddy Mr. Turtle and I wormed our way into an all boys trip back to Chicago Basin.  With a weather window and permission to climb North Eolus (the 14,039’ smaller brother of Eolus Peak that is not technically a peak) by the Camp Director, we set off on my second attempt.


About eight miles from our drop point, lunch already had, we were killing it moving at over 2 miles an hour.  Then it started to rain.  And Turtle could be heard in the rear of the hiking line laughing with joy.  See when you go on an adventure, or hope for an adventure, you are expecting “everything to go wrong” and hopefully you are prepared for it.  So rain on the first afternoon of a five day expedition is all part of the adventure.  Not to mention, if you love thunderstorms then there is nothing better than feeling the mountains shake under your feet as the thunder crack echoes laboriously through the valley you marching through.  Generally, or so I’m told since this summer was so abnormal, I have yet to experience the phenomenon of the true southwest monsoon rains -  it rains hard for 30-45 minutes between the hours of one and five in the afternoon everyday in Colorado.  This rain lasted for seven hours.  Letting up twice that I can recall and down pouring far more times.  We set up camp under an extra large tarp we were fortunate enough to be randomly given by the Expedition Coordinator Mr. Spoons, charged with preparing all the gear and food for the group.  As we all got dry and put on warm layers and fleece, it quickly became clear to Mr. Turtle and I that we needed to make a list of things these boys did wrong and publish it starting with #1 - Do not put anything you do not want to get wet outside of a waterproof area in your pack (ie. socks in your brain).
Anatomy of a Pack


It continued to rain through our tarped diner and into bed time, but we awoke to a sun warm enough to dry our shirts and enjoy breakfast.  Our second day was uneventful with the exception of running into a few other groups trekking in the vicinity of the Basin.  Nevertheless, 4,000’ over six plus miles is a tiring day and it wasn’t hard to put everyone in bed shortly after dark around nine.  My alarm rang us awake at 2:30 and we pushed for everyone to stuff their camp gear into backpacks and hang them in a tree out of the reach of munching mountain goats. After a hearty breakfast of granola, powdered milk, and cowboy coffee, we set forth by light of a full moon to the Basin to begin our ascent to Twin Lakes, where we would begin a summit attempt of Windom Peak and North Eolus.


Immediately our weak link was determined as a 14 year old boy from Denver started to complain that his legs were burning, a common effect of climbing up a hill at altitude.  Mr. Turtle and I were aware that this would occur, but this was pretty early as we were just approaching 12,000’.  We slowly trudged with this kid’s inability to process the lactic acid accumulating in his thighs and blood stream, but we had plenty of time and no one was willing to turn around.  The sun came out as we approached the saddle of Windom Peak, but we continued to climb in the shadow of the peak.  The final push to the summit of Windom is a boulder hop with just a bit of hand over hand climbing (low class stuff that isn’t technical or exposed at all, but slows your pace for sure).  Altitude boy was struggling still, but so was I and everyone human at 13,000’.  With continued encouragement, homeboy didn’t stop and “put one foot in front of the other” and we made it to the summit at about eight am, four hours into our hike.
Panorama from Windom Peak


The summit was everything I expected out of a 14,089’ mountain in the middle of the Rocky Mountains and more.  Views of mountain tops spread for a radius of fifty miles with iconic geographic structures identifiable in every direction.  Nearby Sunlight, Eolus, Jupiter, and Kennedy peaks seemed so close and vivid you got the impression you could reach out and let the ant like people crawling on them scurry right onto your outstretched finger.   There was a summit log that Mr. Turtle filled out, we scarfed down some GORP and, while I could have spent the entire day sitting atop the rock, we began our slow descent back into Windom Basin where we would have to traverse Twin Lakes again to begin our summit push for North Eolus.


While climbing, your body maintains its core temperature quite easily and as long as you have the right materials on, any sweat is quickly lost to evaporation at altitude.  The exposed summit is a different story.  Winds holding steady above 50 mph and temperatures below freezing make for a very cold adventure: Turtle and Andy’s Tip #2 -  If you want to be warm on a mountain top, don’t forget your warm clothes.  But at this point our campers are cold, tired, and more than a little nauseous from the altitude and dreading the thought of climbing another big mountain.  Thankfully for those guys, they had Mr. Turtle and myself to inform them that fatigue and nausea are not reasons to turn around on a beautiful Colorado summer day, standing at the foot of a completely attainable 14er.  So we trudged on one foot in front of the other until about ten minutes to noon when we sat on the summit and enjoyed the last of the beef jerky and split some leftover candy bars.
Panorama from North Eolus


We would end that trip over the next two bright sunny days climbing over Columbine Pass down Johnson Creek and out Vallecito Creek with the braggadocio that comes with climbing two 14ers, your first 14ers that you once failed at, but returned and climbed both in one day.  The confidence that if you ever return, you’ll do Sunlight (Class 4) and Eolus (Class 3).  The last night of the trip I lay on a river beach chatting with Mr. Turtle about the future, plans and adventures, watching shooting stars fall from the sky one right after the other.  
This summer was hard at times and certainly didn’t pay enough to cover my student loans  or support a 401k, but it gave me the western mountain experience and adventure that I had been dreaming of for many years now.  I’m not sure what the future has in store, but I know that I can and will always find wild adventure in the Colorado Rockies. And I promise to post many more stories from the summer in the next few weeks.