It's Getting Late

Crestone Needle dominated the landscape from every direction; it's steep and imposing and reminds me a bit of the Trango Towers in Pakistan.

On Thursday night, Greg, Dusty and I left Denver for the South Colony Lakes, nestled high in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, to set up base camp and do some hiking over the weekend. Dusty's Jeep carried us up a challenging 5.5 miles of rocky road, saving us a ton of time and allowing us to pack "heavy" for the weekend. We arrived at the upper parking lot around 2am on Friday, and hiked into the South Colony Lakes area, setting up base camp in the dark around 3:15. We left camp at 4:20 to begin our hike up Humboldt Peak, which seemed like a straightforward first ascent for the weekend. Fresh snow kept the 2.4 mile hike interesting, and the wind kept it cold. But it was all worth the effort when we summited just before the sun rose over the Wet Mountains to the east.

Greg on Humboldt signing the register just after sunrise.

Looking north through the Sangre de Cristo range from Humboldt Peak.

After fielding the most ridiculous question I've heard since living in Alaska, we returned to a sunny camp at 8:30 to cook breakfast and drink PBR in celebration of a successful hike. I passed out moments later, waking at 1pm to eat again before falling asleep again. I woke at 3:30 to a blast of winter in the valley (see video).



Enjoying "blue ribbon" beer in base camp at 9am after our first summit.

We slept most of the remainder of the afternoon recovering, and after dinner, we slept all night preparing for the next day's hike. We decided to attempt Crestone Peak and Needle via the northwest couloir, but changed plans after reaching Bear's Playground, a high saddle with descending views to the San Luis Valley to the west and the Wet mountains to the east. It's a unique position as it's a simple saddle dividing the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and it's windy as hell. Instead of hiking the Crestones, we hiked northwest, gaining Challenger Point and Kit Carson Peak. It ended up being a long day, but we were rewarded with great weather during our hike back to camp (followed by more PBR).

Greg pauses on the way back to camp.

Crestone Needle (left) and Crestone Peak during our descent from Humboldt.

That night, the weather turned again bad and it rained and snowed heavily for nearly 3 hours. We were holed up in our tents for most of the afternoon and early evening as water accumulated around us. In the dark and cold confusion of our base-camp setup, we didn't do a very good job of determining low points in our camp site. The water pointed out our mistakes. After dinner, though, we sat outside in the wind as the skies cleared and watched shooting stars before heading to bed. It seemed like the previous two nights - clear and cold.

Crestone Needle (left) and Peak from Bear's Playground.

When I woke at 1am, the wind was howling loudly, but I could still see the light from the moon. By 3:30, the moon's light had gone for good, and when we woke at 5 to begin our final day, it was cold, windy and beginning to precipitate. We decided to go back to bed for an hour and re-evaluate before calling the whole thing off, but when we crawled back out of our tents at 6:15, the clouds were actually lower against the mountain, and we could no longer see the tops of Crestone Needle or Peak. It simply wasn't safe to try to hike either peak without good visibility, so we packed up our wet camp and hiked back to the truck. But the day wasn't a total loss. There was a break between the clouds to the east and the horizon, so when the sun finally rose around 6:55, we witnessed an amazing alpen glow against the Crestones. We drank the last of the PBR watching the sun's rays magically ignite the cold granite before all the color was again lost. It was stunning.



Morning alpine glow; beautiful, but the clouds shut us down.

The view back into the Sangres on our way home confirmed we'd made the right decision to not climb on our final day.

Moral of the Story: Start Early

Great photo ops; there are three people in this picture.
If any of you have ever climbed Greys and Torreys (mountains just west of Denver off I-70), you know what I learned on Saturday, which is, they are very popular mountains. Despite having a very poor excuse for a road, many, many people exit I-70 at Bakersville and make the 3-mile crawl to the Greys Peak trailhead every Saturday and Sunday.

My friends wanted to get an early start, so early in fact that our goal was to see the sun rise from the summit of Greys. In July, this might be an okay idea. In September - and one day after a cold front moves through the state, dropping snow at higher elevations - this is not such a great idea. When we arrived at the top at 5:50 (43 minutes before sunrise), it was probably about 25 degrees and the wind was blowing consistently at about 30 miles per hour. It was cold and dark, and we were getting cold, no thanks to our sweaty backs after the 4-mile hike from the parking lot. In fact, three of us got so cold that they decided not to summit Torreys, the nearest mountain, which happened to be only about 35 minutes further. Kind of disappointing, really. So I climbed Torrey's solo, enjoyed the view, ate some peanut M&Ms and tried not to be blown off the mountain. This was easier said than done. I met the other three about half way down the trail as we passed another group of hikers every 30 seconds or so.

So if you're interested in hiking one or both of these mountains, go on a week day or start from the trailhead at 3:15, like us. Oh, and try to avoid returning to a flat tire. That's no way to end a hike.

Rachel watches the sunrise from Greys summit trying to stay warm in the cold wind.

Trying to stay out of the wind while watching the sunrise.

Sunrise over Mt Evans and Mt Bierstadt

I-70 valley undercast.

Eagle's Nest Wilderness

First rays of sun strike Torreys east face.

Mostly just a minute long clip of the wind blowing so hard you can't hear me.

Sunny September

Looking northeast from below Evans' summit - most of what's under the clouds is the north Denver metro area.

Fall's here, and with the end of summer comes the best time to get outside and climb some of Colorado's many mountains. The snow is (mostly) gone, the morning air is again quite cold, and the sun shines most of the time. Last night at about 9pm, I decided today - my Labor Day observed - would be spent in the mountains, hopefully after the throngs of 5-day-a-week workers had left the hills and returned to their jobs. I packed a few things into the Subaru and left town at about 10:30, arriving at the top of Guanella Pass by midnight. The freezing temperatures reminded me about how warm my bed probably was - even without me in it - so I blocked out that image and crawled into the back of my car with warm sleeping bag.

Almost to the summit of Bierstadt, I noticed the undercast over Lake Dillon behind me.

When I woke this morning at 5:30, the sky was clear and the condensation on the inside of my windows had turned to frost. I dressed quickly and ate a bit of breakfast before walking down the trail through the dark. No other cars were in either of the two parking lots. I had the mountain to myself.

Greys and Torreys were just to the west.

By the time I started to ascend Mt Bierstadt's western ridge, the cold wind had reduced my ambition to nearly nothing. It wasn't until I reached a high vantage point and saw that the entire Front Range of Colorado was covered in clouds that I realized how lucky I was to have made the post-holiday trip. The undercast sky wasn't limited to the east, however. Lake Dillon and the surrounding valleys were also under cloud cover. South Park was the only large area below 10,000 feet elevation I could see. As the sun rose over Denver and shone warmly against my freezing face, I wondered what everyone must have been thinking waking up to cool, cloudy skies.

Bierstadt Summit.



I reached the summit just before 8am and opened the register. At least two pages were completely filled out yesterday. I looked down to the parking lot - now in the sun - and noticed two other cars had joined mine. But standing there in the breeze I got cold and had to keep moving. By the time I descended and crossed to Mt Evans' western flank, mysterious clouds were billowing up from the drainage below. I wanted to finish my climb so I hiked faster, but by the time I made it to the summit of Evans, I could no longer see the route I'd just hiked. Only brief glimpses to the north and east revealed a still-undercast Front Range and an empty parking lot at the observatory. Thinking it not wise to spend too much time that high, I ate and headed back down to my car. Not a bad holiday.


Evans summit; here come the clouds and cold wind.

Things looked much better by the time I made it back to the car (Bierstadt is upper right).

Congratulations!

This weekend, a friend of many of ours was married in Boulder at Chautauqua Park. Mara and Dylan Towne, congratulations. It was a pleasure to join you - you really know how to throw a wedding. The ceremony outdoors was perfect, and the bluegrass band inside kept the party rolling. I wish you both the best in your new lives together.




And yes, that's Greg - short hair and all, dancing with Shannon, a friend of Mara and Greg's from way back in Cincinnati. Buy her cookies online here.

The DNC: Biden for Pres... Vice President!

Really, for starters (and I know this is deplorably late), you should watch this DNC Orientation video from a comedy troupe here in Denver. If you like jokes about Denver's reputation for being a skiing town full of cowboys and/or our "150 year battle with the Ute Indians," this video is for you.



Playin' it cool at the Nike Store.
As many of you probably noticed - or didn't, I guess - the Democratic National Convention went off without a hitch in Denver last week. Delegates, Super Delegates and thousands of heavily armed police - both local and federal - used plastic handcuffs, armored vehicles (mostly courtesy of Aurora...hmmm...), kind words, and a great deal of intimidation (read as, standing together in lines at least a dozen long on every corner in Denver with fingers just inches away from triggers of M-16 assault rifles) to successfully maintain peace with a minimum of disruption to the local folk. Protesters protested without major incident, and curious Denverites (me) wandered around taking pictures of what it must be like to live in a police state.

An amazing contrast on such a beautiful evening.
Sorry, blurry. This was just moments before I thanked Joe for, well, I'm not sure - never lived in Delaware.

After watching Joe Biden accept the nomination to run as Barack Obama's VP at a local LoDo bar, Greg and I met up with a couple of friends near the Convention Center. They had tickets to a party that night, but we were going to stand outside and look pathetic, hoping someone would spare us tickets, too, so that we could join in the festivities. Our plan worked, and magic tickets appeared before us, granting us access to a party for (allegedly) donors to the campaign responsible for raising more than $350,000. I have no way of authenticating that, other than saying that the drinks were free, I ate a great amount of swordfish and lamb, we were hands down the worst-dressed people at the party, and no one was really very interesting to talk with, there being two exceptions (neither of whom live anywhere near Denver). To wrap the evening, I met Joe Biden and told him thanks, but for what I'm not sure. By the time I stumbled into bed, it was past 3am on Thursday. Work on Thursday - at 7am - was a struggle.
As if we could have made any bigger asses of ourselves...