I've had my eye on Mount Sneffels for quite some time. This gem of a mountain located near Ouray, CO, is one of the most splendid-looking mountains in all of Colorado. Sneffels first caught my attention back in February, when I snowshowed on Miller Mesa, to the North of Sneffels.

Mount Sneffels as seen in February, 2010.

Additionally, I was able to get great views of Sneffels and the surrounding rugged peaks back in June from the summit of Handies, and in July from the summits of Arrow and Vestal.

Sneffels and Teakettle as seen from Handies. Sneffels' pinnacles can barely be seen at the base of the Southwest ridge.

The Sneffels group as seen from Vestal.

The surrounding mountains are all very rugged, and access to the peak is accentuated by the well-traveled and world-famous Yankee Boy Basin.

The Sneffels "sub-range" (seen above) is probably the second most rugged group of mountains in all of Colorado, next to the Grenadier-Needle range. Sneffels is generally climbed via Yankee Boy Basin from the upper trailhead at 11,600 ft and up what is known as the Southeast Couloir route; however, for this trip, I'd had my mind set on the Southwest Ridge route of Sneffels, which follows the same basic start path of the standard route, but instead of going up the couloir, you gain the top of "Blue Lakes Pass" and then continue up the ridge to the top. In fact, the first recorded ascent of Sneffels, on September 10, 1874 (almost exactly 136 years before) was made by the Hayden Survey via the Southwest Ridge. The Hayden Survey had to "climb with care" because this route is "quite steep in some places."¹

From Yankee Boy Basin, the Southwest Ridge looks to be unclimbable because of the jagged pinnacles, known as "The Hand." However, these are avoided by going up the back side of the pinnacles and up a series of steep gullies to gain the ridge, and eventually the top of Sneffels.

Here are some meaningful statistics from this adventure:

Peak summited:

Mount Sneffels: 14,150 ft. (ranked 27th in Colorado)

Total elevation gain: 2,550 ft.

Total distance hiked: 3.86 miles

Total time hiking: 5.5 hours

Total photos taken: 330

Total distance driven:  620 miles

14er # 41 for me.

Joining me on this ascent of Sneffels was my wife's best friend's husband - Arron Shaver. Arron is not an experienced mountaineer by any stretch of the imagination; however, he is a very athletic and fit individual with a love for the outdoors. Arron and I made plans earlier in the summer to tackle Sneffels together in September, and when the week we had planned to climb it rolled around, I received a very prompt call from Arron and we finalized our plans. We left Colorado Springs on Friday night and arrived at Yankee Boy Basin at around 10:30 PM. The drive was made more interesting because the power steering of my Jeep had begun to fail on the way over. Fortunately, this did not prove to be a huge problem and we were able to make camp near where the road has a sign that indicates that "short wheel-base 4WD vehicles only past this point." Although my Jeep is very capable, I did not know what to expect up the road, and did not want to test my vehicle in the dark. We set the alarm for 5 AM and crashed very quickly.

When the alarm went off we were both amazed by the huge drop in temperature from the night before. I am guessing that we woke up to 25-30 degree temps in the morning. After a quick breakfast of oatmeal, we were off to the races. We continued up the road another mile to the end of the road and the start of the trailhead. I was not overly impressed with the difficulty of the road and in retrospect, I would have driven much further had I known it was not a very difficult road. Once at the trailhead, Arron and I were greeted there by a few other hikers, about 5 in total. We started up the trail and quickly reached the fork in the trail for the two different routes available from this trailhead: the Southwest Ridge route (Blue Lakes Pass) and the standard Southeast couiloir route (Mt. Sneffels trail). We broke to the left towards Blue Lakes Pass and watched as the rest of the hikers headed up the standard route. From this point until the summit, Arron and I did not see another person the rest of the ascent.

Our route up Mount Sneffels.

Views of the surrounding peaks were outstanding, right from the start. Teakettle Mountain, Gilpin Peak, and Potosi Peak were impressive. Having seen them all at a distance from many vantage points this summer, it was great seeing them up close and personal!

Gilpin Peak in alpenglow.

Gilpin Peak at sunrise.

Sneffels' pinnacles.

Arron Shaver - trusty hiking partner.

Potosi Peak.

Gilpin Peak in the early sun.

Matt Payne nearing the top of Blue Lakes Pass. The ruggedness of the pinnacles can be seen.

The hike up to Blue Lakes Pass was quick and painless, and before we knew it, we were enjoying intense views of Dallas Peak, West Dallas Peak and "T 0" after crossing into the Mount Sneffels Wilderness Area.

Blue Lakes Pass provided awesome views of Dallas Peak.

Matt Payne at the top of Blue Lakes Pass.

From the top of Blue Lakes Pass, the route heads directly behind the pinnacles and up a somewhat steep boulder field.

The backside of the pinnacles of Sneffels.

The trail here was fairly easy to find and the route seemed fairly self-explanatory - up! As the sun continued to rise, we could see the awesome Blue Lakes basin below Dallas Peak.

As we continued to climb up the gullies, Lizard Head finally came into view for the first time. Lizard Head is a tall spire near the Wilson group to the Southwest of Sneffels and is only climbed by experienced rock climbers, as the route up it is 5.8 on the YDS. For a great read on the Lizard Head approach and climb, see Sarah Thompson's site, 13ergirl.com.

Lizard Head is barely seen at far left, with the Wilson group rising above the ridge between Dallas Peak and Gilpin Peak.

Lizard Head - zoomed-in.

As we continued to climb up the first gully on the Southwest ridge, we finally reached the top of the gully and were forced to down-climb to a ledge, which led us to the base of some class 4 sections just before the obviously last ridge section.

The terrain on the Southwest ridge was crumbly and jagged.

Matt Payne starting the Southwest Ridge of Sneffels.

Arron Shaver on the Southwest Ridge of Sneffels.

The climbing up the ridge was quite enjoyable. The rock was quite solid, with ample hand-holds and foot-holds during the class 4 sections. Finally, Teakettle and Potosi came back into view, and they did not disappoint. Teakettle is one of the most appropriatly named mountains in Colorado. Shaped like an actual teakettle, sporting a spout and a handle - Teakettle is both a geologist's and a photographer's dream.

Teakettle Mountain is seen at far left, with it's handle represented as a large hole in the rock. Potosi Peak seen at far right.

I remember being very impressed by Teakettle, even as a child. My dad climbed Teakettle in the 1980's and this photo was taken of him inside the handle of the teakettle:

Teakettle Mountain, zoomed-in.

At this point, our views of Yankee Boy Basin below was quite impressive as well, with the golds, browns, yellows and greens of fall accentuating the pristine basin.

Yankee Boy Basin.

Looking in any direction, we could see some amazing peaks. Teakettle, Potosi, Gilpin, and Dallas made for quite the fall back-drop.

On the way up the ridge, we were able to find the Kissing Camels rock outcropping that is often described on route descriptions for Sneffels. The landmark is almost impossible to miss.

Dallas Peak can be seen through the Kissing Camels rock outcropping. Arron caught me in the act of taking that photo...

Yankee Boy Basin far below.

The climb from the Kissing Camels was very straight-forward - we continued up the steep ridge, appreciating the added difficulty and greater views of the Southwest Ridge route over the standard route.

Teakettle Mountain was difficult to keep from staring at. It truly is one of the more remarkable mountains I've seen. So remarkable, that I had to get a super-zoomed in view of it!

Arron was also excited about the route - being that Sneffels was his first 14er of his life - I think I may have spoiled him with one of the more fun routes of any 14er.

Arron with the ridge behind him. "Cake Batter" spills down the ridge between Dallas and Gilpin. (Zoomed in at right)

I suspect that the "cake batter" looking stuff is probably caused by mud slides during the monsoon seasons that often plague the San Juan Mountains.

We finally reached the summit just as the other group was reaching the top as well. The weather was perfect. No clouds. No wind. Warm. We could not have picked a better day to climb.

As usual, I took several photos from the summit and celebrated with the other climbers.

Arron's summit shot.

Matt and Arron on the summit of Mount Sneffels.

Views of the Grenadier Range (Vestal, Arrow, etc), and the Needle Range (Eolus, Windom, Sunlight, Pigeon, etc) were great as well as views of Uncompahgre and Wetterhorn. What I was most impressed by was the views of the Grand Mesa and the land between Sneffels and the mesa. The town of Ridgway, Ridgway State Park, and Ridgway Reservoir could all be seen easily as well. What was also impressive were the views of the Telluride Ski Area, the Wilson group (Mount Wilson, Wilson Peak, El Diente, and Gladstone Peak), and the La Plata Mountains.

Mount Sneffels East to West Summit Pano.

Gilpin Peak and Telluride Ski Resort. The Grenadier and Needle ranges seen in the far distance to the left.

Teakettle Mountain and Potosi Peak zoomed in.

Teakettle, Potosi, Yankee Boy Basin, Gilpin, and Telluride.

360 Degree Summit Pano from Sneffels.

Sneffels summit pano - north and east

Uncompahgre seen in the distance...

Sneffels Summit - looking south

Dallas Peak, Zoomed-in.

The Grenadier Range - Zoomed-in - including Vestal Peak and Arrow Peak. See that trip report here.

Lizard Head Zoomed-In

And of course, a summit photo is no fun unless I'm posing in a silly way...

Matt Payne taking photos on the summit of Sneffels.

After quite some time on the top, Arron and I decided to descent the same way we ascended. The down-climb was challenging but solid. There were some tricky sections that required some in-facing down-climbing, and a few spots where we needed to wait for each other to ensure neither of us were hurt by rock-fall from above.

Down the Southwest Ridge!

Teakettle Mountain

Teakettle with digital zoom.

We reached the camels again in no time and I took one last shot of the Wilson group.

The trickiest part was when we came across some class 4 rock that we had to negotiate. It was a fun challenge for sure.

The class 4 section provided some entertainment.

We headed back down to the Blue Lakes Pass ridge without any problems.

Blue Lakes Pass. I wonder why it is called Blue Lakes Pass?

The Blue Lakes Pass trail and Mount Sneffels.

We hiked down the Pass back towards Yankee Boy Basin and decided to take a side trail that led us to a small lake at the base of Gilpin Peak.

Gilpin Peak and Mount Sneffels.

As we hiked down, we were blessed with one last great view of Yankee Boy Basin.

Yankee Boy Basin

We reached my Jeep at 12:00 PM and drove out. The road was quite enjoyable in 4WD without power steering...

If you've never been up the road, it is worth it to drive up it. There is a really awesome overhang about halfway up the road that is quite impressive.

We drove into Ouray and ate lunch at the Ouray Brewery, which proved to be a great decision because they have a patio on their roof that made for excellent fall weather dining.

I hope you found this trip report useful and / or enjoyable! Thanks for reading!

References:

¹ Rhoda, Franklin, Summits to Reach, An Annotated Edition of Franklin Rhoda's "Report on the Topography of the San Juan Country," edited and with preface by Mike Foster, Boulder, Pruett Publishing (1984).

² Rosebrough, Robert F., The San Juan Mountains: A Climbing and Hiking Guide, Evergreen, Cordillera Press (1986).

Rio Grande Pyramid has long been on my "to-do list" for the Centennials (the highest 100 mountains in Colorado). Isolated by over 10 miles from its neighbors in the San Juan Mountains, Rio Grande Pyramid sticks out like a sore thumb by itself to the east of the Needle and Grenadier subranges. I viewed Rio Grande Pyramid from many angles this year, including a great view from Handies, and another wonderful perspective from Vestal and Arrow Peaks.

Needless to say, I have been eyeing Rio Grande Pyramid a lot this year, and I have known since January that I would be climbing it with my dad at the end of August. Since Rio Grande Pyramid is very isolated, it requires a fairly lengthy backpacking excursion and some planning. My dad (Old Climber on this site) has wanted Rio Grande Pyramid for many, many years, so he jumped all over the chance to attempt to tackle this beast.

The plan was to leave from Colorado Springs after work around 5 or 6 PM on Friday, set-up a quick camp near Rio Grande Reservior, back-pack to Weminuche Pass on Saturday, set-up camp there, climb Rio Grande Pyramid on Sunday, and backpack out on Monday. With the weather forecast for the area being up to 70% chance of precipitation for pretty much the whole weekend, Ray and I were prepared for a wet trip, but hopeful that the weather would cooperate for a summit attempt. Just in case, I packed a book, The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, per the recommendation of my wife.

To start off, here are some meaningful statistics for this adventure:

Peak summited:

Rio Grande Pyramid: 13,821 ft. (ranked 97th in Colorado)

Total elevation gain: 4,674 ft.

Total distance hiked: 19.26 miles

Total time hiking: Approx. 14 hours

Total photos taken: 350

Total distance driven: 540 miles

Trip duration: 3 days

The drive to Rio Grande Reservior was uneventful, and finding a place to camp was surprisingly easy. We were aiming for the Thirtymile National Forest Campground, but we balked at the $16 fee, so instead we decided to camp 400 yards away, for free, in a large field by the Rio Grande River. This proved to be a great campsite. We woke up around 7:30 AM, packed up, ate breakfast, and drove to the campground, where the parking lot for the Weminuche Trail is at. At about 8:30 AM, Ray and I were packed and ready to hike, and began our 3-day journey into the remote Weminuche Wilderness Area.

A topographical map of our trip, click to enlarge.

The hike in is a relatively easy backpack, with the exception of mile number 2. The first mile is spent traveling along Rio Grande Reservior along a gentle trail, and then the trail picks up elevation quickly in mile 2 as it climbs and rounds the corner to the south west. After the 2nd mile, the rest of the hike in is very mild, with excellent views of the wide-open and very photogenic Weminuche Creek basin.

The Weminuche Creek.

For our campsite, we were aiming for an area near Weminuche Pass. On the way up, both Ray and I were marvelled by the variety of mushroom that were growing along the trail, certainly evidence that this was been a very wet summer. Little did we know, the mushrooms would be one of the highlights of our trip (for those wondering, we did not ingest any of them).

A Fly Agaric mushroom along the trail leading towards Weminuche Pass.

Two Fly Agarics emerge from the hard soil.

A Fly Agaric poking through the dirt.

We finally found Weminuche Pass, which was easy to spot by the two almost useless signs sticking up out of some cairns on each side of the trail. Heed my warning now, the sign on the right is for "Sky Line Trail," which is the route to Rio Grande Pyramid. The sign is poorly marked and at the time pointed in the wrong direction. We've since fixed the sign, so hopefully you'll see it better than we did. We camped directly east (left) of these signs along a small but gorgeous creek that flowed down from the Continental Divide. The area was a very large and impacted campsite, with plenty of great spots for a tent a a nice fire-ring.

The creek near our campsite.

After setting up camp, I decided to go for a walk around the area, and see what kind of mushrooms I could find. Since I know almost nothing about mushroom identification, this was more of an opportunity for me to practice taking macro shots with my camera. I do think that mushrooms make for excellent subjects for photography, and I suspect/hope that some mushroom lovers out there may appreciate this trip report. I've submitted these photos to MushroomExpert.com (which is a very cool site) and hope to find out soon if we can name any of them. If you don't care for photos of mushrooms, you can skip that section by clicking here.

A little brown mushroom (or LBM for short, as Ray would say).

Some funky yellow mushrooms - we saw a lot of these under the pine trees.

Another "LBM."

A nasty looking 'shroom - I think it has seen better days...

Three "LBM's" emerge from the mossy ground floor of the forest.

I wonder... did these mushrooms seal the fate of this poor animal?

A King Bolete mushroom near our campsite. It turns out that these are quite edible.

Another view of the King Bolete.

A ring of mushrooms near our campsite.

More LBM's.

A LBM emerges from the pine needle floor.

Little white mushrooms were everywhere...

The "gills" of this mushroom made for an interesting subject for a macro shot.

Another LBM rises from the grass.

These mushrooms looked like blobs slithering across the forest floor.

Yet another LBM!

These tiny mushrooms were growing in a very obscure location. I don't have a clue how I spotted them. Pure luck. They were about an inch tall.

Another tiny little mushroom.

A perfect Fly Agaris specimin near our campiste. Doesn't it look like something out of Super Mario Brothers?

Mario emerges!

A view of the underside of the Fly Agaric.

This mushroom looks like it maybe got a little too much sun. Sunscreen is important in the mountains.

More crispy 'shrooms.

This little mushroom looks like she put on a little too much lipstick...

A white mushroom.

A small button cap mushroom.

After photographing the mushrooms, I took a nap. Sleeping next to the creek was great, and I recuperated from my exhausting search for the perfect mushroom. Ray and I cooked up some mashed potatoes and gravy with StoveTop dressing and chicken breast (we know how to cook when we backpack), and then after dinner I decided to go on another adventure up the valley to see if I could watch the sunset.

A view of the upper Weminuche Creek basin, just past Weminuche Pass.

To the east (left), I saw a small meadow at the base of the hillside pictured above. In that meadow, I saw a deer grazing, so I decided to see if I could stalk the deer and get a good photo of it. I think the deer was aware of my presense for pretty much my entire walk, which about 400 yards total across the basin. As I got closer to the meadow, I found myself looking down upon an awesome series of pristine beaver ponds.

A hidden beaver pond and meadow. The deer can barely be seen in the upper meadow.

Another beaver pond.

The beaver ponds were full of duck and fish, and it was fun watching the ducks swim around with their little families of chicks.

I even took some video of the ducks. If you listen really closely you can hear coyotes howling in the woods nearby.

In the distance I could make out what I believed to be Pole Creek Mountain in the late sun's light.

Pole Creek Mountain.

After being spooked at the beaver ponds by continuous coyote howling, I decided to return to camp. We crashed fairly early and set our alarm for 5 AM. The alarm went off and it was really cold outside. We got ready quickly and were on the trail by 6 AM. This is where we made our first mistake. Instead of following the "Sky Line Trail," we followed the Weminuche Trail further south until I realized we were doing something wrong. We backtracked to the Sky Line Trail (which does NOT follow where it shows on the USGS topo map, as seen by my TOPO map of our route) and began the steep upclimb along the Continental Divide. This trail is well established and somewhat steep. The weather was very foggy and winter-like for us, but there was no precipitation, so we continued up. The trail splits at one point, trying to avoid some deadfall; however, we found the best thing to do is to stay on the trail and go over the dead trees. This prevents you from losing a lot of elevation. Eventually, the trail brings you around the bend and Rio Grande Pyramid and The Window come into view.

The Window and Rio Grande Pyramid.

The Window is a very impressive geologic formation along the south ridge of Rio Grande Pyramid, and it does not disappoint. It was truly striking.

The Window.

The trail flattens out here in the upper basin and eventually brings you to a junction at the base of Rio Grande Pyramid. We took the junction to the right and climbed up a steep trail to the lower plaform of Rio Grande Pyramid. From here, we chose to follow the platform south and then up the gradual southeast slope.

Nearing the summit of Rio Grande Pyramid.

The view back from where we came near UN 12,808 was pretty awesome, with the greens and yellows of the huge basins showing their true colors.

UN 12,808 towers over the valley below.

The Moon sets over Rio Grande Pyramid.

I was very intrigued by the volcanic nature of the rock on Rio Grande Pyramid. It was very much like lava rock in many regards, and made for quite easy travel compared to the "dinner plates" in the Elk Mountains or the famously loose rock found elsewhere in the San Juan Mountains.

Ray takes shelter in a ring of rocks we found.

From here, it was smooth sailing to the summit. While steep, Rio Grande's final summit block is nothing to be worried about. It is relatively short, and there are even class 3 variations for those seeking out a more challenging ascent. As I crested the summit, I was worried that there would be complete cloud cover in the area and that my view of Vestal Peak and Arrow Peak would be obscured. When I first viewed those two mountains at the top, I was ecstatic. While the weather did indeed obscure much of my view of the Needle Range, the Grenadiers were in plain view.

The Grenadier Range.

Wetterhorn and Uncompahgre to the north.

A 280⁰ pano from the summit of Rio Grande Pyramid.

Ray Payne on the summit of Rio Grande Pyramid Matt Payne on the summit of Rio Grande Pyramid

A view east and south. The clouds loomed over us all day long.

A pano looking east. "Fool's Pyramid" or UN 13,278 left of center.

Since it was really windy and cold on the summit, Ray and I opted to head back down a few yards to eat a snack and refuel for the climb back down and hike back to camp. It began to lightly snow, so we headed on down. The weather began to clear for us on our descent, and better views of Rio Grande Pyramid were had from below.

A super-high resolution pano of Rio Grande Pyramid.

Ray rests on the trail in this wide view pano of Rio Grande Pyramid and the surrounding ridges and valley.

As we hiked down, I was constantly drawn to the deep green and yellow colors of the meadows below.

On the way back down, Ray and I took our time looking for mushroom, and we found plenty to take photos of. The mushrooms were honestly one of the highlights of this trip, because both Ray and I are fascinated by mushrooms.

A trio of Fly Agarics.

A circle of Agarics.

A tiny white mushroom.

An odd cluster of gooey looking mushrooms.

This one looks like a UFO.

This one grew around the grass...

This one had it's own wooden house.

Covered in moss. Or - the Dagobah Mushroom.

This one caught our eye...

Once back at camp, I decided to get a few more shots of our close-by creek. I think these came out quite well!

Ray and I cooked up dinner - a fitting meal of tortellini, salmon, alfredo sauce, and 4 kinds of dried mushrooms. A meal fit for kings.

Mount Elbert – 14,433 ft. – ranked highest in Colorado, 2nd highest in the contiguous United States (highest is Mt. Whitney at 14,505 ft.)

I had originally planned on climbing Snowmass mountain with Terry this weekend, but my wife’s mother, Donna, asked me a few weeks ago if we could give a 14’er a shot. Donna has been reading my reports here for awhile and I think she was bitten by the 14’er bug. As she had never done a 14’er before, I did some research on the ‘easier’ 14’ers and figured that Elbert would be a good choice due to the gentle elevation gain and relatively high start. In retrospect, I probably should have chosen Sherman or Quandary.

We left Colorado Springs around 6 PM on Thursday 8/27/09 and arrived at the South Elbert Trailhead around 9 PM. We set-up camp and went to sleep. The alarm woke us up at 4 AM and we quickly got ready.

Hiking in the dark was no doubt an interesting and new experience for Donna. We started up the Colorado Trail and then up the South Elbert Trail. The start of this trail is pretty steep and took us by surprise. I did not anticipate the route to be this steep, but Donna took it in stride. As this was her very first climb, I gave her lots of time to rest and take-in water as needed. I stressed the importance of drinking lots of water to her and she definitely listened. We were able to reach tree-line before sunrise. I must admit, the view of Twin Lakes Reservoir was really impressive from this trail. Here’s a shot of Donna with Elbert behind her just before sunrise: 

Donna kept our pace nice and steady and we were able to get sweet views of Elbert and the surrounding area as the sun hit the tops of the peaks. Here’s a  pano looking east, south, and west: 

The sunrise was really beautiful. Twin Lakes really was an awesome sight: 

We continued up Elbert. 

Here’s Donna with the Lakes behind her: 

The trail was very clear. There seemed to be quite a bit of erosion and I would suggest that other hikers try to stick to one main trail so that the tundra can recover. We kept climbing and the views of the Lakes just got better and better.

Elbert is like a giant pile of rocks. It has very little in terms of distinguishing features other than its a really big, pile of rocks.

Unfortunately, the higher we got, the more ill Donna became. I thought that acute mountain sickness(AMS or altitude sickness) might happen, but had hoped that she could fight through it. She finally stopped climbing at 13,750 feet, an impressive first outing! I was really rooting for her, but I totally hate the nausea that AMS gives you, so I totally understood why she would want to stop.

Donna told me to go ahead without her, so I climbed the rest of Elbert quickly. Donna’s decision to stop proved to be a good one, as there was quite a bit more mountain to hike up than I originally thought. It took me about 30 minutes more to get to the summit, where I was greeted by two Austrian gentlemen, one smoking a cigarette, and the other drinking a Bud Light. They kindly took my picture: 
I was really excited to see the Maroon Bells in the distance, and took tons of pictures of them. They are very aesthetically pleasing to me, one of the coolest sets of mountains I have seen. 

I took quite a few photos from the top but did not stick around very long because I wanted to get back down to Donna. Here’s some panoramic shots of the view from the top. This one is looking east and south: 

And this one is looking east, south, and west: 

And then looking north, west, and south: 

I quickly hurried back down and found Donna down-climbing about a half-mile from where I had left her. We slowly went back down, which was very enjoyable – the colors were changing and the day was PERFECT – weather was awesome and the start of fall was in the air. Here’s some fun pictures I took of the early fall colors that were changing in the tundra on Elbert and the surrounding mountains: 

We made it back down to the Jeep successfully and I think Donna had a very good time on her first mountain climb. I really hope she tries again and is able to feel the great thrill that is the top of a high mountain in Colorado!  

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Kit Carson Mountain is a very prominent mountain located in the Sangre de Cristo Range. The area surrounding Kit Carson Mountain is both rugged and pristine, with views of amazing peaks such as Crestone Needle and Crestone Peak in abundance. The hike to Kit Carson Mountain by way of the Willow Creek trailhead is nothing short of astounding, with breathtaking vistas available the whole way up. To put it lightly, this is one of the best hikes in Colorado, bar none.

Here are some meaningful statistics from my adventure up these amazing mountains:

Challenger Point – 14,081 ft – ranked 34th highest in Colorado

Kit Carson Peak – 14,165 ft – ranked 23rd highest in Colorado

Columbia Point – 13,980 ft – ranked 56th highest in Colorado

“Kitty Kat Carson” – 13,980 ft – unranked

Total distance traveled: Approximately 15 miles 

Total elevation gain: 6,500 ft.

By now you might be wondering what makes a mountain ranked versus unranked. This is a fairly controversial topic in the climbing community. Basically, there is only one factor to consider when determining if a mountain should be "ranked" and that is prominence. The prominence of a peak is the height of the peak’s summit above the lowest contour line encircling it and no higher summit. Prominence is interesting to some mountaineers because it is an objective measurement that is strongly correlated with the subjective significance of a summit (and how difficult it is to climb). Peaks with low prominences are either subsidiary tops of some higher summit or relatively insignificant independent summits. Peaks with high prominences tend to be the highest points around and are likely to have extraordinary views. In the case of Colorado mountains, most mountaineers use a cutoff of 300 ft / 91 m to determine whether or not a mountain is ranked or not. So using “Kitty Kat Carson” above as an example, since there’s only 80 ft in elevation drop between itself and Columbia Point, it is not ranked. Alternatively, since there is 360 ft in elevation drop between Columbia Point and Kit Carson Peak, it is ranked. 

I picked up my friend Terry from his condo at 5 AM on Friday and departed for the quaint town of Crestone. We arrived at the Willow Creek Trailhead at about 9 AM. There were several vehicles at the trailhead, which was kind of surprising given that it was still early on a weekday. This was going to be our third backpacking trek in as many weeks. This week I was able to get my pack down to 45 pounds, thanks in part to some lightweight food my mom graciously provided to me the previous day. We began our hike up the trail, which was well travelled. About 5 minutes into our hike, a gentleman with a long gray beard was coming down the trail and was very friendly to us, warning us of electrical storms. I commented to Terry that this was not my first rodeo and that the man reminded me of Jesus. I was hoping that his presence was not a sign of things to come… bearded man looking like Jesus appears out of nowhere and warns us of lightning… The trail was such a nice change from last week since it was actually easy to follow and was clearly maintained and free of vegetation and confusing side trails. The trail makes many large switchbacks up a gradual slope and then at the top of this slope it drops you right next to a huge meadow, accompanied by great views of part of Challenger Point.

After awhile, the trail brought us closer and closer to Challenger’s headwall.

Shortly thereafter, the trail begins a long series of shorter switchbacks leading to the north and east until a large waterfall is exposed at the base of the headwall.

After gaining the headwall and hiking further up the trail, we were right at the base of Willow Lake. Being that we were in a Wilderness area, camping was restricted to areas no closer than 300 ft of the lake. One of the very first campsites we encountered had some Big Horn sheep grazing at it.

The sheep quickly scattered up the valley towards the lake. 

We kept going on the trail and found a really wonderful campsite left of the trail nestled in some trees. The funny thing was that the sheep were hanging out in this campsite. I was able to take several pictures of the sheep after we were able to claim the campsite as our own. This was one of the cooler things that has happened to me this year because one of my lifelong goals has been to see Bighorn sheep up close in the wild.

After we were able to chase off the sheep, we set-up camp. The campsite was very nice, with an established fire pit and logs all around it for seating. Here is the view we had of Challenger Point’s north face:

After setting-up camp, we decided to head up the lake to see what it was like. Boy, were we in for a scenic treat! The lake had a giant waterfall at its head and was surrounded by small cliffs where the waterfall was at. Here’s some stitched panoramic photos from the lake: 

After soaking in as much of the lake as we could, we decided to head back to camp, cook dinner, and call it a night. We woke up at 4 AM the next day and quickly readied ourselves for what was going to be a very long but rewarding day.

We hiked up past the lake and began up the valley to the south. Quickly Kit Carson and Challenger came into view (left and right respectively): 

I think Kit Carson looks like a Klingon’s forehead. Who’s with me?

I originally thought that this was “The Prow,” a semi-famous section of Kit Carson that is a a notorious rock-climbing route; however, it turns out that “The Prow” is on the other side of Kit Carson and is seen from Columbia Point.

Another view looking up the valley at Kit Carson (right) and the adjoining ridge to its South and East. 

We climbed up the grassy slopes of Challenger Point and then up a loose talus section to the ridge. From the ridge we could see the top of Challenger Point and looking down we could see the upper Willow Lake and the sun’s reflection on it. 

We started climbing up the ridge to the southeast towards Challenger Point. Here is a view from near the summit of what the ridge climbing looked like. 

A few minutes later and we arrived on top, with Kit Carson and Crestone Peak in full view and the Blanca group in the distance to the South. 

Looking east we could see Mount Adams poking up towards the sky. 

And here’s a shot of me on the summit looking southeast towards Crestone Peak and Kit Carson: 

On top of Challenger Point rests a plaque dedicating the mountain to the Challenger shuttle disaster of 1986. 

After refueling on top of Challenger Point, we began the journey down Challenger Point’s southeast ridge towards Kit Carson and the Kit Carson Avenue, a long ledge leading around the side and then around the back of Kit Carson. Here’s a look at some of the perilous cliffs below Kit Carson Avenue and subsequently, a photo of the Avenue and the route up it. 

The Avenue looks pretty sketchy from here but in reality it was a nice ledge with plenty of room for walking. Once at the top of the Avenue, you once again can see the awesome Crestone Peak (center) and Columbia Point (left) with the back-side and downward heading remainder of Kit Carson Avenue. 

Going down the Avenue, I was struck by the really remarkable geological formations. It appeared to me that water had eroded the underside of Kit Carson in the Avenue, making it look like something had burrowed its way right through the rock all the way down. 

And another view looking down the Avenue – it looks far less intimidating than it did from the top of Crestone Peak. 

Once we reached the bottom of the Avenue, the route took us sharply to the northwest. The climbing was pretty standard class 2 stuff. Near the top of this last section Terry ran out of gas and took a break to rest. I decided to make the final push to the top after visually verifying that Terry was not injured and was continuing. Here’s a shot looking towards Columbia Point and Crestone Peak again. Take special note on the intimidating nature of Columbia Point (closest peak) from this vantage point, as it was the side of that mountain that I would later climb… Looking at Columbia Point you can see a small fin that is separated from the mountain by a small gap. That is the fin I would later ascend to reach the top (more later). 

From here, reaching the top of Kit Carson was a breeze. There were several other groups on top. Here’s some stitched photos looking towards Challenger Point. This is a good view of the route we had to come up earlier in the day. Basically starting from the large lake pictured right of center, you climb up the grassy section and then up the rocks to the ridge.

Speaking of the lake, here’s a really high-detail pano of it.

And a shot looking south. 

And a 180 degree pano with Columbia Point in center. 

And of course here I am flexing victoriously on the summit. 

After a quick snack on top I decided it was time to go back down and decide if I was going to climb Columbia Point. Terry had already headed down and would not be attempting Columbia Point. After running into another climber on the way down and picking his brain on the approach for Columbia Point and assessing the weather, I decided to give it a shot solo. This was possibly the most technically challenging climbs I’ve done to date. The route was not well-established and there was a couple of spots where I was exposed and could have fallen to my demise. Here’s a picture outlining my rough route up. 

Once I reached the top of the first gully of the fin (5th red line from bottom), I had to make a really risky move to down-climb about 10 feet to the next section of the fin. I sat there for at least two minutes and contemplated the move’s risk and thought of turning around. I would definitely rate the move as Class 5 (Class 5: Technical free climbing involving rope, belaying, and other protection hardware for safety. Un-roped falls can result in severe injury or death) as it was 100% vertical and required both hand holds and footholds. Even though I still had on my backpack and had my camera around my neck, I decided that I had the skills and the mental acuity to give it a shot. This move was really tricky as I had to somehow flip myself around and onto the face of the rock wall, with 300 feet of exposure (Empty space below a climber, usually referring to a great distance above the deck through which the climber could fall) to the left and a steep rocky slope below me to the right. I took a photo of the spot but it really does not do it any justice. Perspective is everything. I was amazingly cool during the attempt but did find myself shaking a little and my heart was racing pretty fast. Once I secured myself onto the face of the wall, I descended several feet down, ensuring that my hands and feet had secure holds with each move. In retrospect, this was a very risky move and leaving the gully earlier to avoid it would have been prudent. After this, the route was pretty straight forward up the fin and then up the steep ridge. It was hand over hand the rest of the way up. I reached the top and took photos of the mountains surrounding me; Crestone Needle, Crestone Peak, and Kit Carson.

At this point, “The Prow” of Kit Carson was readily apparent to the left of Kit Carson’s summit. 

After taking pictures I took some time to search for something I had heard about… I was unable to locate a plaque that was dedicated to the Columbia shuttle disaster of 2003 as seen here:

This was a real disappointment because it was one of the reasons I wanted to climb this mountain. I searched around the summit in all directions but could not find it. Frustrated, I second-guessed that I was truly on the summit of Columbia Point and not “Kitty Kat Carson,” an unranked 13’er right next to Columbia Point to the south. You can see it behind Columbia Point in the photo above. Even though a summit register on top said I was on Columbia Point, I wanted to go over to the other summit to be sure. After a quick trip over to “Kitty Kat Carson,” I determined that I was indeed on Columbia Point previously; however, the trip was well worth it as I was able to get some pictures of the full-on and un-obscured view of Crestone Needle and Crestone Peak. 

After enjoying the views from “Kitty Kat Carson,” I decided to go BACK over to Columbia Point one more time to try to find the plaque. Unfortunately I was not able to find it. Looking east, I noticed that some clouds were building so I decided it was time to head back towards Kit Carson and back up the Kit Carson Avenue. Another look back towards Kit Carson revealed that another climber was coming up Columbia Point so I knew I needed to be careful not to kick any rocks down on him.

I reached the top of the Outward Bound Couloir between Kit Carson and Columbia Point and headed back over towards Kit Carson Avenue by way of a steep gully with a large rock terraced over it, which created a nice and tight fit back over to the Kit Carson side of the couloir. 

After reaching the top of Kit Carson Avenue, I climbed back down to the saddle between Kit Carson and Challenger Point and decided to re-summit Challenger Point as to ensure that the same route we took to get up would be the one used to get down. Once at the top of Challenger Point again, the nasty weather was building and looking more and more ominous. 

Fortunately the weather cooperated just enough to let us get back down to the lake in our haste. It was pretty cool seeing the flora down there since it was dark earlier in the morning when we were coming up. 

We made it back to camp, packed-up, and headed out. We got back to Colorado Springs at about midnight and I was exhausted.

I would rate this climb highly. It is challenging, offers many routes, and there are several peaks to ascend in the area. All in all, this is a must-do climb for any serious Colorado mountain climber.

Blanca Peak has always mystified me. It is one of the most prominent mountains in Colorado - it towers over the San Luis Valley and the Great Sand Dunes National Park. It is easily one of the most impressive looking mountains in the State, from almost any angle. With that being said, it was quite exciting to finally get to climb it along with its neighbor, Ellingwood Point.

Here are some meaningful statistics from this adventure:

Blanca Peak - 14,345 ft. (ranked 4th highest in Colorado)

Ellingwood Point - 14,042 ft. (ranked 42nd highest in Colorado)

Total mileage: Approximately 10 miles

Elevation gain: 4,600 ft.

My friend Terry and I started our epic July climbs with a bang by heading down to the Sangres to tackle some of the most impressive mountains in the State. To accomplish this - we would need to backpack up a fairly long road to reach some high mountain lakes.

Terry picked me up at my house on Friday morning at about 7AM and we started the drive down to Walsenburg. Once we reached Walsenburg, we headed west over La Veta Pass and then through the towns of Fort Garland and Blanca. From Blanca, some pretty awesome views of the Blanca massif can be seen. Blanca is the highest one in the middle towards the back and Little Bear is the pointy one on the left.

Next we headed north towards the Great Sand Dunes and turned up towards Lake Como. The Lake Como road is one of the premier 4-wheeling roads in the State, as evidenced by the three Rubicons at the start of the road. We started up the road in Terry's Blazer and encountered what I believe to be some of the most intense off-roading I've ever seen. Terry was a total champ! He was able to maneuver up the crazy road over some impressive and daunting obstacles and got us to a large camping area at about 10,000 ft. Turns out Terry damaged his engine mounts in the process. Here is a nice article on the road we were driving on.

In 2010, I went up the same road with my friend David, and there are more photos of that adventure in my Little Bear report.

The road is full of obstacles called "Jaws" which we stopped just short of. We got out of the vehicle and started our backpacking adventure. My pack weighed in at 55 lbs and Terry's weighed 40 lbs. I guess I carried heavier food!?

Here is the overall route we took up the valley and eventually up to the top of the peaks:

The hike took us up past the infamous "Jaws" obstacles and eventually we landed at Lake Como. We passed Lake Como and continued up the valley towards Little Bear Peak, Ellingwood Point, and Blanca Peak. We finally stopped above tree-line at 12,200 feet to set-up our camp-site. Here is a nice panoramic photo of the view from our campsite:

We were camped right next to a mini-waterfall that looked right up at Ellingwood Point. After we unpacked and got settled in, we decided to take a short hike further up the trail to one of the Blue Lakes. On the way there, I saw a small bird scurry past me. My first thought was, that bird can't fly! Then my second thought was, that's a baby bird! Sure enough, there were several small baby birds right in the area that were standing very still.

Then I spotted the mama bird - a full-grown Ptarmagin hiding in the brush:

She got up and started running around me like a crazy lady (can't blame her - I was invading her space and she was protecting her chicks) and I took one more picture of her and continued up to the lake.

At the lake, we were able to get more awesome views of Ellingwood Point (left of center) and the waterfall at the base of the headwall for the Blanca / Ellingwood Point saddle.

From the lake you could see all the way up and down the valley, including nice views of Little Bear.

On the way back to our camp-site, we encountered a very friendly Marmot hanging out on a rock. This whole area was full of marmots and we were very careful to hang our food bags in a tree to prevent Marmots from eating our food.

When we returned to camp, we both set-off to prepare dinner. Terry boiled some water for his freeze-dried meal and I opened up a can of tomatoes, chicken, and green chilies. I got out my pre-chopped onion and sauteed everything together and made some yummy burritos. My pack may have weighed a lot, but I got to eat well, so it was worth it.

We saw that rain was on the way so we prepared our area for rain and got into Terry's tent. The rain was fairly heavy and lightning was off-and-on the rest of the evening. I was particularly uncomfortable being so high during a lightning storm, but we survived... We set the alarm for 4:30 AM and went to sleep.

At about 1AM I woke up to the loud sound of rocks falling. I think a goat knocked down some rocks in the valley, which sounded like fireworks in the middle of the night. At 4:30 we both got up and prepared for the climb. I ate some breakfast bars and Terry boiled more water for another freeze-dried meal. In the process he melted some plastic on his stove on accident. Fortunately, it appeared that his stove was still functional. We started up the trail around 5:30 AM as the sun was just beginning to light up the valley. Shortly after we began, we reached one of the upper lakes. The lake was pretty cool because it was reflecting the light that had just started to shine on Little Bear - right of center.

The lakes were really calm and provided some nice views.

We continued up the trail and began the steel climb up snow fields and boulders. We followed cairns towards the saddle between Ellingwood Point and Blanca and heard the sound of rocks falling above us. A pair of Mountain Goats were doing the traverse from Blanca to Ellingwood above us!

Terry finally reached the trail connecting Blanca and Ellingwood just below the saddle and he led us up towards Ellingwood.

Finally we reached the saddle between Blanca and Ellingwood and were afforded the first very impressive views of the morning. We could begin to make out Crestone Needle (the pointy mountain peaking through left of center).

I also took a 300 degree pano from here, which turned out really nicely. On the right you can see the Lake Como valley from where we came from, and on the left you can see the Huerfano River valley and Mount Lindsey, which I climbed last weekend.

We continued up Ellingwood Point and kept looking back behind us in awe of the sheer size of Blanca Peak. It really is impressive. Here's some panos of Blanca and Little Bear, across the valley from us:

While I was taken by all of the views and therefore occupied by photo-taking, Terry was making great progress towards the top of Ellingwood. He couldn't see it, but unfortunately he was not the first to summit Ellingwood today. The goats were!

As Terry approached the summit, the goats left and Terry was afforded solitude once more on Ellingwood. Here's Terry with the moon above him as he took in the views from atop Ellingwood:

As I reached the false summit of Ellingwood, I looked to my right (north) and saw an impressive ridge connecting Ellingwood to California Peak. If you look closely at this pano, you can see something really cool...

... goats!

Here's a zoomed in view of the Goats! They were doing the traverse down the spiny ridge. It was really amazing seeing wildlife this high.

I finally reached the summit and Terry was already taking pictures. He took this one of me as I was also taking photos:

Here's a 360 pano from Ellingwood. Under the sun is Lindsey, and left of Terry is Little Bear and finally Blanca:

Terry and I stayed on top for about 20 minutes, watching groups of people summit Blanca and Little Bear across the valley. We refueled and began the traverse over to Blanca. This was a fairly sketchy route, perhaps because we stayed pretty high on the airy ridge. To our east was a sheer drop-off of at least 1,000 feet. The route required some careful footholds, ledge-walking, and even an icy couloir. Terry went down the icy couloir first, acting like Spiderman on the edge. I decided to around the ice and then right through it, using my hand to pick up ice and snow and throwing it out of my way. We started up Blanca and passed one gentleman coming over from Blanca. Looking back at Ellingwood, you can see the route we took, basically right down the ridge and up again towards Blanca.

The scramble up Blanca was fairly straightforward class 2+ climbing and I eventually reached the summit. Terry summited about 10 minutes later and we both began to take pictures like crazy. The weather was absolutely perfect - no wind. Terry took my summit shots, and then we both started walking around the summit block in search of great photos.

I took my normal 360 pano...

...and then took some higher detail panos of Lindsey Peak and the Winchell lakes to our Southeast.

Here's a zoomed in view of one of the Winchell lakes:

Then I took a very detailed set of photos of Little Bear and the traverse from Little Bear to Blanca - one of the hardest traverses in the State. You can also see Lake Como in the valley to the right of Little Bear.

After hanging out on the summit for awhile, we decided to head back down, which turned out to be fairly uneventful except for the awesome views. We eventually got back down to the waterfall, which I had to take a picture of!

When we got back to camp, we both decided it would make sense to just pack-out today, so we packed up our camp and headed back down towards Terry's vehicle. At Como Lake, we encounted a large group of 4-wheelers, one of which we followed down most of the trail to watch him go over the Jaws obstacles. His Willy's Jeep made the Jaws look more like baby teeth:

The hike back down to the car was fairly uneventful after seeing the Willys.

We then drove into Blanca to have some good food to prepare us for the drive home.

Mount Antero is one of the easiest mountains to identify as you are driving into Buena Vista from Colorado Springs. It is a very pointed peak to the South of Mount Princeton. Mount Antero towers above the Arkansas River Valley as one of the mighty 14ers in the Southern Sawatch.

Here are some fun statistics from this adventure:

Mountain climbed:

Mount Antero. 14,269 feet. 10th highest in Colorado

Elevation gain: 3,401 ft.

Total miles: 6.4 miles

My mission, and it was a fun mission indeed, was to reach the top of Mount Antero. Being out of shape and out of the climbing game for quite some time, I had exercised all Spring for this summer's adventures. This was an adventure indeed... Wind. Cold. Wildlife.

I drove from Colorado Springs on Friday night and made record time since the wife forced me to eat at home instead of on the way (thanks babe). I arrived at the turnoff for the Baldwin Lakes at around 8 PM and met up with Randy from 14ers.com there. We had met on 14ers.com and agreed to conquer Antero together. His cousin Daniel met us there and I decided to drive up the road where I would sleep for the night.If you've never been up the Baldwin Lakes road, its quite the adventure, especially if you're in a stock-equipped vehicle. My 2007 Jeep Grand Cherokee handled it like a champ, but not because I'm very good at driving off-road, that's for sure. The whole time I was driving up, I was white-knuckled and cringing for the inevitable scrape on the underside of my vehicle.

Fortunately it never came. On the way up the road I had two interesting moments. The first moment was when I was about half-way up and a big mammal was right in the road in front of me about 20 yards away. My vehicle startled it and it scurried off the road but I recognized it clearly - a porcupine. I had the wherewithal to not get out and investigate, but was glad I could see such a wild fella in the woods.The second interesting moment was at the stream crossing at the road intersection for Baldwin Gulch and Baldwin Lakes. I crossed the stream reluctantly, as this was something I had never done in my Jeep and I was not sure how deep the water was. I had read on 14ers.com that the stream was passable by a stock 4x4 truck, so I figured my Jeep would be OK. I was right, but I had trouble sleeping all night because all I could do was conjure up images of my Jeep being stuck in the water on the way down! Note, the water looked a heck of a lot deeper in the dark than in the daylight!

Baldwin Creek in early June - not for the faint of heart or stock-equipped vehicles...or, maybe, people afraid to get stuck, like me!

I set the alarm for 5 AM and tried to sleep in the car on a slight angle - always a fun endeavor. I woke up the next morning and shortly afterwards Randy and Daniel were at my car to start the hike. We started up the road and you could barely make out Antero in the darkness:

Its important to note that Antero has a well-developed 4x4 Jeep road going up the majority of the way up until about 13,800. This does not make it "easy" necessarily, but it certainly takes a lot of the mystery out of the hike. Randy blazed the trail ahead and set the pace for the morning:

The road switches back and forth up the side of Antero, as seen from my picture taken from the top of Mount Shavano just the week prior:

Its also important to note that there is some considerable mining interest on Antero. Apparently there have been some very nice and quite valuable aquamarine finds on this peak, including the largest aquamarine specimen ever found in North America, as evidenced by this article. As we climbed up, the sun began to rise and we were able to make out North Carbonate and Baldwin lake below it to our west. I climbed North Carbonate, now called Cronin Peak, on 9/1/1985 when I was just 6 years old. My memories from that climb are vivid, as we were pushed from the top by lightning. That made this climb even more nostalgic.

Additionally, as we gained elevation we could see down the Baldwin Gulch valley where we came from.

The road we were hiking on was full of snow drifts pretty much the whole way up, making a very formidible barrier for all of the miners that make this mountain their home during the summers. I'll come back to that later.

Antero loomed above us and was shrouded in shadow for much of our ascent. We spotted some elk on the road as we climbed, which was a very surprising but welcoming sight in the cold morning.

The elk stayed on the road for quite awhile as we approached and we came within 200 yards of them at one point.

Finally, we were able to get to the top of the first ridge that separates the Baldwin Gulch from Brown creek valley. Numerous jeep trails cross and intersect on this part of the mountain, which did deter somewhat from the spectacular views of Shavano and Tabeguache:

At this point we decided to take a "short-cut" up the ridge by doing some boulder-hopping, which is quite challenging with trekking poles, something I've not grown accustomed to yet.

Looking back from the ridge we were climbing you could see the large basin/ridge we had came from that leads to the upper Brown creek valley.

The northern Sawatch range broke out in the distance from the ridge we were climbing, and we could see that the weather was going to cooperate for us today.

The sun was finally cresting over the ridge at this point and was quite the contrast to the snow we were hiking on. The sunglasses were quickly dug out of my jacket and worn for much of the rest of the hike.Once we reached the top of the ridge we could see our final destination - the summit of Antero. Unfortunately, the wind at this point was maddening and brutally pounding our faces. We estimated that for the remainder of our climb, the wind on the ridge and the summit was about 50 MPH and gusts were up to 70 MPH. This, combined with 25 degree weather, made for a wind chill of about 5 degrees. My thin gloves were not cutting it at all, and my hands were punished. The North Face pants and jacket I was wearing were doing a superb job of keeping the rest of my body warm; however, and I was able to alternate keeping one hand in my pocket while using the other hand to hold both of my trekking poles.

We continued up the ridge, covered mostly with snow. The snow was hard enough to walk on and postholing was kept to a minimum, although, at one point, I did sink to about chest level in a snow drift.We continued up the ridge towards Antero, using the small rock formations as protection from the wind. The heavily fortified sections of rock were welcoming as the wind was beating them with a loud fury. I was really qutie impressed with the way in which the rock stopped the wind and created such amazing sound.

Here is a video I shot from the windy ridge:

Another great picture opportunity presented itself to me about halfway up the ridge, and I stopped to see if I couldn't capture it. My photography skills are not that good, but I think this picture came out pretty well.

Pictures from the rest of the climb did not happen because taking a picture in the wind and steep snow would have surely ended tragically for me. It was all I could do to keep my balance in the slippery, steep snow with the wind beating me down. At one point I lifted my hand up to my face and the wind caught my trekking pole and slammed it right into my face. The wind really was quite incredible. At one point I really felt as though I was on some epic climbing expedition.

I was able to summit a few seconds after a gentleman that had passed us right near the top. I took his picture and waited for Randy to arrive a few minutes later. Daniel took his time and was able to summit about 10 minutes after Randy.

A small lake near the summit of Antero.

Once Daniel was on top, I asked him to take a few shots of me, which gave me a chance to pose. Something about being on the top of a high mountain reminds of you of the corny scene from Titanic.

Poor Daniel had lugged a tripod to the top and never used it, but I took full advantage of it! I took a nice pano from the top, but unfortunately because of the wind, it was really hard to get it straight. The pano I ended up with was only partial, but still impressive nonetheless.

On the way back down I got one final shot of myself posing in front of Cronin. When we neared the stream crossing where my jeep was crossed, we encountered a gentleman that was shoveling the snow from the road. We theorized that he was an aquamarine miner based on his decor and by some of the things he said. It sounds like there's quite the mining operation on Antero in the summer.

We made amazing time back to the bottom and my Jeep made it across the stream easily - thankfully!

Some fun information about this great hike:

Mt. Massive - 14,421 ft. - 2nd highest in Colorado; third highest mountain in the contiguous U.S.

8 miles round-trip via Southwest slopes route

3,950 ft. elevation gain

More snow than I expected...

I thought that my climbing season had ended after being snowed on in mid-September on Grays and Torreys; however, I got the itch to climb again this weekend. Serendipitously, a fellow climber from Colorado Springs, Rob, posted on 14'ers.com that he was going to Mt. Massive on Saturday and that anyone from Colorado Springs was welcome to join him. I jumped all over the opportunity and we made plans to meet at 4:15 AM on the west-side of town to car pool. Rob had his friend Brad with him and we departed for Mt. Massive at around 4:30 AM.

Our route took us directly up the snowy south face of Massive.

On the way over we had good conversation, shared stories about our climbs and got to know each other. We arrived at the turn-off for Mt. Massive at 6:45 and met up with two other climbers from Denver. We reached the trail-head and began hiking at 7:40 AM. Right at the trail-head lies a memorial to the soldiers that died in a helicopter crash earlier this year on Mt. Massive. Here are some photos of the Memorial, notice a section of the helicopter is seen as well:

A memorial cross for the victims of the Blackhawk Helicopter crash on Mount Massive, 2009.

The forecast for the day was clear skies and a high of 60, and wow the weatherman did not disappoint! We swiftly hiked up the valley and reached the turn-off for Mt. Massive. Our view back down the valley was stunning:

The trail was covered in snow, making for a quite interesting hike. As we gained elevation, the trail became less and less apparent and eventually we just started hiking straight up towards Massive.

Looking back towards Elbert, you can see our footprints through the snow...

None of really expected to see so much snow, but it made for a very challenging hike. The snow was up to 3 ft. in depth in some spots, and it was quite slippery due to the 30-40 degree slopes were climbing on. We stopped several times to rest on the way up, and about halfway up I was able to take some shots, combined here into a smaller panoramic photo:

After approximately three hours, we were able to reach the saddle, which joined us with the standard route. By now I was pretty tired, partially due to the extra effort required by the snow, and partly due to the fact that I had not had much to eat. I made sure at this point to eat some snacks, and we headed back up. We found ourselves climbing up some pretty deep snow, as evidenced by this shot, looking up the ridge towards the summit, taken on our way back down:

After trudging through the snow, we were able to reach the summit at 12:40 PM, a full 5 hours after we started. The snow really took a lot out of us! I was just really glad I brought my gators and had tons of warm clothing... Here is my obligatory summit pose, with the Elk range behind me:

And of course my traditional 360 degree pano:

Before we left from the summit, I took some zoomed in shots of the Elk range, including the Maroon Bells. This stitched pano is one of my favorites from this 2009's shots:

We headed back down and had a good time rumbling down the snowy slopes. I took one last set of the valley, combined into a pano here:

All in all, I would highly recommend this route for Mount Massive. Even in October, the route is solid, and I could see this being feasible even through November or later.

Capitol Peak carries a mystique among hikers and climbers in Colorado. First climbed in 1909 by Percy Hagerman and Harold Clark, Capitol Peak is often revered as the most difficult 14er in Colorado. Capitol Peak towers above treeline in the Elk Mountains of Colorado, a crumbling mass of granite, shaped into a rugged pyramid with spiny ridges. While I have a great respect for Capitol Peak, I felt that I had personally prepared myself for the climb through graduation along the difficulty continuum of climbs in Colorado. Having summited several of Colorado's harder Centennials (highest 100 mountains), including Crestone Needle, Crestone Peak, Vestal Peak and Little Bear Peak, I felt that I had the skills and mental toughness to complete Capitol. Capitol is well-known for its "Knife Edge," a 150 ft. narrow and jagged section found on the main route of Capitol Peak. The Knife Edge is very exposed on both sides, making it a mental challenge for many climbers. Many personal friends and family members as well as reports on the internet had built up Capitol's Knife Edge's difficulty in my mind; infact, YouTube is full of videos of people climbing the Knife Edge, some recklessly crossing it like a tightrope. I was hopeful that it was more hype than people it made it out to be...

Here are some meaningful metrics from this amazing trip:

Peaks summited:

Capitol Peak: 14,130 ft. (ranked 29th in Colorado)

"K2": 13,664 ft. (unranked)

Total elevation gain: 5,300 ft.

Total distance hiked: 17 miles

Total time hiking: Approx. 14 hours

Total photos taken: 356

Total distance driven: 520 miles

Trip duration: 1 day, 19 hours

K2 (far left) and Capitol Peak (far right) seen in this dramatic panoramic. Click for high resolution version (15 mb).

That being said, Capitol Peak was not without other dangers. Many climbers have perished on Capitol over the years, oddly enough, very few of the deaths have occurred on the Knife Edge. In 2009, James Flowers, the United States Paraolympic Swim Coach, perished on the Northeast side of "K2," a sub-peak of Capitol Peak, as reported by the Aspen Times. Needless to say, great caution, respect, and preparation would be required if I were to successfully climb Capitol. First on my list for preparation was to find capable partners. This is often difficult in the mountaineering community, since many climbers inflate their abilities or do not disclose their limitations to potential partners.

Earlier this summer, I climbed Huron Peak with Mike Vetter, a Sioux Falls, South Dakota resident and an up-and-coming star in the IT realm and CEO of DataSync. Mike and I made plans to climb again this year and we set our sights on Capitol Peak. Mike invited his friend, Travis Arment, an avid marathon runner. Neither Mike nor Travis had extensive experience climbing class 4 peaks; however, having hiked with Mike in the past, and knowing that Mike was a comfortable and avid rock climber, I knew I could trust him to make solid decisions and that they would both be personally responsible enough to turn-around if the climb became too difficult. We all exchanged plans via Facebook, ensured we all had the proper gear and knowledge, and established ground rules for the climb in case something unexpected happened. Travis and Mike flew in to Denver on Friday, August 13th. I picked them both up from Castle Rock, where Travis' aunt lives, on Saturday morning and we departed for Capitol. The total drive from Colorado Springs was approximately 260 miles and took roughly 5 hours.

We arrived at the trailhead for Capitol at about 10:00 AM and were hiking by 10:30 AM. As usual, my pack was the heaviest and largest, weighing in at just over 50 lbs. 

Mike's pack was medium-sized and Travis literally backpacked with a daypack. We made sure to give Travis a hard time for having the smallest pack, and Mike was quick to point out that he was carrying half of Travis' stuff. Travis was a great sport about it and agreed to share his tasty snacks on the hike up.

There are two trails for Capitol Peak - the standard trail and the "ditch trail." We chose the ditch trail due to its lack of elevation loss and gain at the start of the hike. The ditch trail is aptly named, following an irrigation ditch along the side of a ridge line which wraps around towards Capitol Peak. The irrigation ditch is used to provide water for cattle, which are known to graze this part of the Elk Mountains in large numbers.

The topo map of our route. Want to make your own maps like this? Check out the TOPO! program from National Geographic!

Capitol Peak seen from the trailhead.

Matt Payne and Travis Arment on the Capitol Peak Ditch Trail - photo by Mike Vetter

After about a mile and a half of hiking on the trail, it leaves the ditch and heads uphill, gaining half of the ridge to the west. Before we knew it, the trail meandered into a great opening, revealing Capitol Peak. Capitol Peak remained in view for much of the remainder of the hike up to Capitol Lake.

Matt Payne on the trail

Capitol Peak, about 1/3 of the way up to Capitol Lake from the trailhead.

On the way up the trail, we passed many raspberry plants, sometimes stopping to grab a snack to help fuel our ascent.

Wild Raspberries - photo by Travis Arment

Matt Payne braves the spiky bush to score some berries.

Travis Arment reaches in to score some berries.

Eventually, the trail reaches the Capitol Lake basin and intersects two side trails leading to two campsite areas, each split into four campsites (#1 through #4 and #5 through #9). We found ourselves camped at site #6, a quaint spot in the trees up on a hill.

Mike Vetter unpacks at our campsite.

After we got situated at our campsite, we took a small nap. The hike up to Capitol Lake was pretty exhausting for all of us. After our short nap, we took a walk down to the lake with our cameras and took pictures. The lake rests right below Capitol itself and was a great area to relax and take in the afternoon sun.

Capitol Lake sits beneath Capitol Peak in this 180⁰ panoramic photo taken above the shore. 

Mike went down to the lake to fill up his water bottles, using his steri-pen to sterilize the water. Unfortunately, the steri-pen bested Mike's weary intellect and he gave up on the endeavour, conceding that my Ketadyn Hiker Pro filter would later suffice. Mike and I went down to the stream near our campsite before cooking dinner and refilled all of our water. The area surrounding Capitol Lake is really quite gorgeous, with Capitol looming over the whole area like some kind of ancient protector of its treasure.

Mike Vetter filling his water up at Capitol Lake.

I pulled out my food for the night - a custom-made soup with dehydrated vegetables and pasta with chicken. Mike and Travis were somewhat jealous of this fancy treat at first; however, the meal was about the saltiest thing I've ever ate. Mike and Travis cleaned up on their Knorr Pasta side meals and we all hit the sack at around 8 PM, with the alarm set for 4 AM.

4 AM came all too soon, despite the long night of sleep we all enjoyed. I scarfed down some homemade zuchinni bread that my wife made for me and we all grabbed our backpacks and headed for Capitol. The trail for Capitol happened to be the same trail used by our campsite, which perpendicularly intersects the Capitol Lake trail just below Capitol Lake. We made our way up the switchbacks in quick order, passing several groups. Being that it was quite early in the morning, we could see all the other hikers in the area ascending beneath us and above us. We counted about 15 to 20 other headlamps heading up.

Travis Arment (left) and Matt Payne (right) excited to be on the trail to Capitol Peak.

We reached the Mount Daly - Capitol Peak saddle about 30 minutes into the hike and enjoyed some pretty awe-inspiring sunrise views from there, which Mike documented on video:

Sunrise

Sunrise... again

Clouds rest in the light of sunrise to the east.

We continued up and over the ridge and descended a well traveled gully to reach the beginning of a very long stretch of boulders to the north and east of K2. The trail here mostly consisted of cairns and boulders, making for fun travel in the early light.

Mike Vetter hikes up the immense boulder field.

Out of nowhere, as if we were not expecting it, the sun blasted alpenglow onto the mountains surrounding us.

Mount Daly basked in alpenglow in the early morning. 

Mount Daly in Alpenglow.

The trail eventually lead us to a snowfield, which was mostly ice. I had been warned by the snowfield by a fellow hiker, Terry Mathews. We tested our footing on the snow and ice and decided to cross it, cautiously. There were great footsteps already kicked into the snow, and the relief was not terribly steep at this point. We all made it across quite easily and continued up the boulders. We saw a large snowfield at the top of the basin on the K2 - Clark Peak saddle's face and knew that we needed to turn right before then to reach K2. We decided to head up a very solid class 4 section.

A snow and ice field adorns the face of the saddle between K2 and Clark Peak.

Travis up-climbing the solid Class 4 terrain leading to the base of K2.

Once reaching the top of the ridge between K2 and Clark Peak, we realized that we still had quite a ways to go before reaching K2. The terrain became much flatter and we were able to get to the top of K2 in short order. Many parties opt to skip K2, arguing that the approach is more difficult; however, we did not want to miss out on the views from K2's summit.

To reach the top of K2, we broke off from the main trail just after it winds itself to the right of K2 and climbed a steep but solid dihedral to the summit. Capitol Peak looked ominous from K2, dwarfing it's surroundings.

Capitol Peak, Snowmass Mountain, and the Maroon Bells come into view from the summit of K2.

The down-climb from K2 was trickier than expected, and it forced us to backtrack a little bit to meet back up with the proper trail which winds around the side of K2. The terrain here is steep, loose, and slightly exposed.

Matt Payne downclimbing from K2.

Downclimbing K2 to reach the K2 - Capitol saddle.

I had read some reports of people dying near K2 in the past, and had always wondered how this was possible. Undoubtedly, there did not seem to be any obvious threats to one's life until we reach the backside of K2 and saw the impressive cliffs surrounding K2 and Capitol Peak. One false move and a climber could find themselves in a world of hurt.

A huge cliff greets climbers reaching the base of K2. Don't slip here...

The remainder of the climb was amazing. Capitol's ridge is a spine of crumbling boulders and jagged knives, a real tribute to the harsh and remote wilderness that the Elk Mountains call home.

Mike with K2 in background.

At this point we knew we were quickly approaching the fabled Knife Edge. The North Face of Capitol Peak shot up like an angry beast from the pits of hell. Ok - maybe not that freakish, but it was sincerely one of the more impressive rock faces I've seen. Either side of Capitol presented thousands of feet of exposure and immediately reminded you of the need for caution and careful routefinding. A fall anywhere from here on would almost certainly be fatal.

Capitol Peak's North Face - not a good place to fall.

Fortunately, the views from this part of the climb were unreal. The sun slowly rose above, providing light for the most incredible vistas of the Elk Mountains.

Snowmass Mountain, Capitol Peak's closest 14er neighbor.

We traversed across small ledges and quirky chimneys and found ourselves with what must have been the Knife Edge. K2's previously daunting surroundings now felt much easier.

Nearing Capitol Peak's Knife Edge

Looking behind: K2 and climbers reaching it's summit.

We finally reached the Knife Edge, gathered our wits about us, and gave it a go. The plan was for Mike to go first, and then to take video with his camera of us crossing. We watched the group before us, and they mostly employed a mix between the 'scoot on your ass' method and the 'hang from one side like monkey bars' method for crossing. We figured to follow suit, as both strategies seemed to appeal in their own ways.

Mike Vetter ready to cross the Knife Edge.

Mike made it across without a hitch and took this revealing photo while crossing, looking down one of the sides. It goes to show how freaky and exposed it really was.

I crossed second, making sure I had perfectly solid holds on the rock as I crossed. I employed a mix between scooting and hanging from a side and made it across fairly quickly. The technical nature of the crossing is not terribly difficult or physically demanding; however, the mental requirement to cross was great, knowing that one mistake meant death. Needless to say, don't get yourself too hyped up for the Knife Edge. It is dangerous but the risk is quite manageable with caution, careful movements and mental toughness. I did find myself breathing heavily at the end, mostly from the excitement of the whole thing.

Matt Payne starts the Knife Edge - photo by Mike Vetter.

Mike compiled some video of our crossings of the Knife Edge and placed them on YouTube:

After the Knife Edge, the going got much easier, mostly a Class 3 / 4 scramble across a fun boulder ridge. We reached somewhat of an impasse about 3/4 to the summit, having to choose to either continue straight ahead and around the left side of Capitol per the standard route's description, or to head straight up to the ridge, ascending Class 5.2 / 5.3 terrain. Being the adventurers we are, we chose the latter and went straight up. The route was solid, challenging, and enjoyable, with minimal exposure and many places to rest. All in all, I would recommend taking the upper ridge route if you feel comfortable with light Class 5 climbing and steeper terrain. Never did any of us feel unsafe on this section; although, Travis did mention later that it was somewhat spooky for him. Fortunately, Travis is an excellent athlete and managed to power himself up the steep section without any problems. We were very cognizant of the rockfall potential, taking special caution not to pull rocks down on people below us.

Once reaching the ridge again, we stopped to rest and recoup our strength for the final summit push.

Matt Payne with Capitol's summit block. Almost there.

From here, the summit push was quite fun, with Class 4 and low Class 5 moves required. We were quite pleased with our choice to go the high route, enjoying both the challenge and the solidness of the route. We watched several climbers take the lower route, a looser, chossier, and less enjoyable section of the mountain.

Mike and I took some video footage of this section:

We reached the summit at 10:15 AM as one of the first groups up. The views were outstanding and the company was superb. A group from Ft. Collins joined us on the summit, and conversation quickly went to skiing Capitol Peak. Being probably the hardest 14er to ski, theorized on the possible ski routes and I swapped stories and names of climbers we both knew of that had either skied it or attempted to, referencing Brian Kalet and Jordan White of 14ers.com fame.

The summit party. Travis tinkers with his cell phone while Matt converses with fellow climbers.

After refueling with Resees Peanut Butter Cups and Raisins, I went on a photo frenzy.

A 360⁰ view from the summit of Capitol Peak. Click for high resolution view.

A panormaic view of the Pierre Lakes, Snowmass Mountain, and the rest of the awesome Elk Mountains.

A panoramic photo looking north and west from Capitol Peak. The Snowmass - Capitol ridge strikes me as being quite impressive. 

A massive panoramic photo of the Snowmass Basin, K2, Maroon Bells, and Snowmass Mountain. Click for high resolution version (26 meg file). How many climbers can you count?

A zoomed in panoramic photo of the Maroon Bells and Pyramid Peak. Click for full resolution version.

A super zoomed in view of the Maroon Bells.

A zoomed in view of one of the Pierre Lakes.

Mike Vetter on the summit of Capitol Peak.

Matt Payne on the summit of Capitol Peak.

A panoramic view looking down at Capitol Lake, Mount Daly, and across Capitol's ridge to the Pierre Lakes and the rest of the Elk Mountains. Click for high resolution version.

Mike was able to capture some video from the summit as well:

With no threat of weather in any direction, we decided to hang out on the summit for about an hour, enjoying the views. We eventually headed down and chose to follow the standard route. The rock was nasty through this section of down-climbing, and required good concentration, footing tests (make sure the rock does not fall when you step on it), and patience. Most accidents occur on the way down, so we were vigilant and cautious. Travis was able to capture this perspective of the rock and exposure beneath us on the down-climb.

Travis plants his foot firmly on a ledge during the down-climb from the summit of Capitol Peak.

Matt Payne carefully down-climbs from Capitol Peak.

Matt Payne with one of the Pierre Lakes in background.

About halfway back to the Knife Edge, a group of climbers were coming up Capitol below us, without helmets. They asked us if this was the way to go and we responded that it was one of the ways up. It surprised me to see how oblivious they were that we were climbing above them on loose rock. I ordered my group to stop moving until they were in a safe location below us. It really is no wonder that more people do not perish on these mountains. Ironically and sadly enough, we later learned that a 20-year-old hiker died the day before on Maroon Peak from rockfall that had come from above him. Even though he was wearing a helmet, the rock that struck him had enough force to knock him loose from the mountain and caused him to fall to his death.  I strongly believe that if people took more caution and paid attention to their surroundings and used some common sense, there would be less deaths. If you need a good climbing helmet, check out this one.

We reached the Knife Edge at approximately 12 PM and crossed it in much the same fashion as before, except this time, I went first. I generously used the 'scoot on your butt' maneuver to get across.

Matt Payne crosses back over the Knife Edge on Capitol Peak, heading towards K2.

Mike captured yet another great shot from the Knife Edge, looking down at Capitol Lake:

The climb back down from K2 was fairly straight-forward but tiring. We were ready for some pizza at Beau Jo's Pizza, no doubt. We finally reached the snowfield again, and it was much softer this time, with rivers of slush flowing down it. It was somewhat scary, but I tested the footing and it felt great, so we crossed again.

Travis Arment crosses the snowfield beneath K2. Photo by Mike Vetter.

We made great time back to the Daly - Capitol saddle and I sprinted the last stretch to the saddle, anticipating the victorious beer that would be consumed once back to civilization.

Matt Payne runs the final section on the back side of the ridge between Capitol and Daly. Photo by Mike Vetter.

On the way down the hillside, Mike stopped to take some great shots of the wildflowers found on Capitol's northeast shoulder:

We made it back to camp at 2:15 PM and packed up. We refilled our water and headed out. Travis and I were motivated solely by the prospect of cold beer and fresh pizza.

I hope you enjoyed this trip report. We surely enjoyed the trip and I personally can't wait to join Mike and Travis for our next adventure.

What an action-packed trip this was! From off-roading one of Colorado's most difficult 4x4 trails to witnessing a full-scale Search and Rescue operation! As if climbing one of Colorado's most challenging 14ers wasn't enough!

To start off, here is a break-down of relevant numbers from this adventure up Little Bear Peak:

Peak summited:

Little Bear Peak: 14,037 ft. (ranked 44th in Colorado)

Total elevation gain: 2,360 ft.

Total distance hiked: 2.54 miles

Total time hiking: Approx. 5 hours

Photos taken: 252

Search and Rescue operations witnessed: 1

Little Bear Peak sits impressively next to Blanca Peak in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of Colorado and is considered one of the most dangerous and perilous mountains in Colorado due to a section near the top called the Hourglass and the Bowling Alley. In fact, just this year, a climber named Kevin Hayne perished on Little Bear from falling at the Hourglass section. A full report of those events can be found here. For a semi-comprehensive (not regularly updated) list of all accidents on Little Bear, check out John Kirk's site.

Having backpacked the long, steep road from the base of Blanca Peak last year to climb Blanca Peak and Ellingwood Point, I was not looking forward to another slog up the road to climb Little Bear. Fortunately, my college roommate and great friend, David Deramo, was back in the state from his long 2 year stay in Japan. Dave owns one of the most awesome Jeep Cherokees I've ever seen. Dave purchased the Jeep when we were in college in 1999 and has put work into it each year since. It went from a stock 1989 Jeep to an awesome rock-crawling machine over the course of many years. Dave has put a lot of work and time into his Jeep, and I was eager to see what it could do. Dave agreed early in the year to drive up the road with me and attempt to climb Little Bear.

Dave drove down from his home in Winter Park with his Jeep on a borrowed trailer, towed by a borrowed Ford half-ton pickup on Friday, August 6th and stayed the night at my place in Colorado Springs. We woke up at a reasonable time and made the drive over La Veta pass and met up with his friend from Durango, Lance. Lance owns 4x4 & More in Durango, Colorado and specializes in custom 4x4 jobs. His own Jeep, another older Jeep Cherokee, does not look like it belongs on the insane Blanca Peak trail; however, Lance keeps his Jeep looking stock but has some nasty tricks up his sleeve, including air suspension that adjusts using switches in his cab. Lance knows his stuff!

When we arrived at the start of the road and began unloading Dave's Jeep from the trailer, a couple of Search and Rescue (SAR) team-members began to assemble. Apparently someone had an accident on Ellingwood Point earlier in the day. Learning about a SAR mission did not do much to instill confidence in me for our trip up Little Bear.

The drive up the road was fun. Dave's Jeep really performed well. He runs a 5.5 inch lift with 35" ProComp XTerrain tires with ARB lockers and tons of other upgrades. For those not familiar with the road, it is truly one of the most insane roads I've seen. The road itself consists of really rocky terrain with several rock crawling obstacles known as Jaws 1, 2, and 3. Dave made Jaws 1 look like a bump in the road.

Jaws 1.

Jaws 2 is somewhat scarier, due to its off-camber feel and the considerable risk for tumbling off the side of the mountain. Dave needed a couple of attempts, but also made Jaws 2 look pretty easy. Lance's seemingly unfit Jeep also did great over Jaws 2, much to my surprise. Lance's Jeep is such a sleeper - it looks completely incapable of doing these obstacles, but the tricks he can pull make him just able to make it over the problems.

Lance makes it over Jaws 2 in his stock-looking Jeep Cherokee. Lance is a total off-roading master.

Dave heads up Jaws 2.

Jaws 3 is a little different than the other two obstacles, having a trickier line than the other two. Most consider Jaws 3 to be the hardest obstacle.

Once over Jaws 3, we were at Lake Como. Lake Como had many 4x4 vehicles parked at it and many campers lined its shores. We aimed for the south-eastern shore to look for camping and enjoyed the views of Little Bear Peak.

A spotlight shines on Little Bear Peak

We found a great campsite at the far end of the lake and unpacked our gear and made camp. A couple of guys in a Jeep Rubicon also joined us at our camp site. They were also planning on climbing Little Bear Peak, so it was a natural fit. Once our camp was made, we all drove up the road to see if we could complete the final obstacle. It was no problem for our group and we easily made it to the end of the road past Blue Lake. As soon as we arrived, the weather turned nasty, with hail and rain pounding the area. A couple of SAR team members, George and Stefan, approached Dave and I and asked us if we could give them a ride down to Lake Como. George and Stefan were really friendly guys and conveyed the SAR situation to us. A woman with Epilepsy had suffered a seizure and later dislocated her shoulder from a fall. Her injuries were severe enough to merit SAR extraction due to her pain. The entire story can be found on the link above or in the trip report posted by someone involved. It really is a fascinating tale that many mountaineers can learn from.

Here are the lessons I personally learned from the SAR incident: 1) Be sure to find out if your hiking partner(s) have a medical condition. If they do, learn about how it afflicts them and how to treat it. Additionally, make sure your group agrees on the rules of engagement - how you will handle an emergency. These are important things to consider before hiking with others, especially strangers. 2) If you have a medical condition - please disclose it to your fellow hikers before they agree to hike with you. Fully disclosing this to your partners is only fair and offers them the opportunity to learn more and to decide if they want to take on the risk of accompanying you on the hike. If your medical condition worsens while climbing, please turn-around and head back to camp before the situation worsens and SAR is called.

Blue Lake before the storm

Blue Lake during the storm

Blue Lake after the storm

The waterfall seen above Blue Lake, just before the headwall of Blanca Peak.

Dave and I returned to camp and ate dinner. Our group spent some time around a camp-fire, exchanging stories with some hikers that had came down from helping the SAR team. Dave and I eventually crashed and set the alarm for 4 AM. Given that there was a lot of lightning and rain that night, we wanted to get an early start on Little Bear.

We woke up at 4:30 after mashing the snooze button a few times and set away for the Little Bear turn-off at the top of the hill above Lake Como. We scrambled the boulders and made our way up the very steep gully leading to Little Bear's ridge. Caution should be taken in this gully, as the rock is loose. We made quick work of the gully and stopped to take some photos.

Looking west towards Alamosa.

The steep gully leading to Little Bear's ridge.

Ellingwood Point at sunrise

Dave at the top of the gully.

We made our way across the mountainside, just below the ridge towards Little Bear. The trail is faint but well-marked by cairns and is easy terrain. We reached about the half-way mark from the gully and Little Bear and gained our first great views of Little Bear.

Dave takes shelter with Little Bear's impressive face behind him.

Dave's Cave.

We quickly made our way to the base of Little Bear and were greeted by the famous Hourglass. The Hourglass is the deadliest section of this climb, for obvious reasons. Water runs down the center of this narrow and steep gully, forcing climbers higher to the left in order to get past the start of the gully. The whole section above the Hourglass is referred to as "The Bowling Alley," since rocks kicked down from above are all funnelled inwards, creating a dangerous situation for those climbing up. Since we wanted to avoid rockfall from above, we were glad we got up early and were the first to reach the Hourglass. Since it had rained a lot the night before, the rocks everywhere in the Hourglass were wet. We were able to find some patches of dry rock and slowly and meticulously made our way up the gully.

The Hourglass.

Matt Payne ascends the Hourglass. Note the steepness and wetness of the rock. Handhold and foothold selection was paramount to success.

A fall here would have been fatal. Take caution!

The first 10 - 20 feet of the Hourglass are scary. Holds are minimal and the rock is wet. Extra special caution should be taken here and only those comfortable climbing class 4 and class 5 terrain should continue. If you're afraid of heights, this is not for you. Routefinding in the Hourglass was fairly difficult. The rocks were all wet and dirt was loose, making our climb upwards a slow and calculated process. We were eventually able to find some cairns to the left of the Hourglass and make our way up to the summit. The summit itself provided insane views of Blanca Peak, Ellingwood Point, the Spanish Peaks, Mount Lindsey, and the rest of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

Dave tops out on Little Bear's summit.

A great view of the connecting ridge between Little Bear and Blanca Peak. The traverse between Blanca and Little Bear is considered one of the most difficult in the State of Colorado.

A 360⁰ panoramic photo from the summit of Little Bear Peak - click on photo for full resolution version.

We also got to witness the SAR extraction of the injured climber.

Flight for Life rescues an injured climber.

Dave on the summit of Little Bear.

Matt Payne on the summit of Little Bear.

Matt and Dave on the summit - using a self-timer.

One of the neat things you can see from the summit of Little Bear is the crop circles down in the San Luis Valley.

Clouds roll over Ellingwood Point and Blanca Peak.

A group of two climbers joined us on top for a short time and we all agreed to down climb together, as to avoid rockfall.

The wind was quite chilly on the summit, so we departed after spending no more than 30 minutes on top. The four of us made our way down to the start of the roped section of the Hourglass. I was concerned with how this was going to work, given the steepness and wetness of the rock here. Our plan was to use the rope as a handhold and slowly descend while facing the rock, one at a time. The process turned out to be quite the success, as none of us slipped or had difficulty making our way down the roped and scary section.

Looking up at the fixed rope in the Hourglass

Dave is ready to downclimb the Hourglass.

Looking down the Hourglass and the wet terrain.

Dave starts down the Hourglass.

After successfully making it down through the Hourglass, the four of us headed back over below the ridge of Little Bear. We all decided to go up and over the ridge instead of below, which enabled us to get some great views of Lake Como and the surrounding area, including Ellingwood Point.

Ellingwood Point sits at the top of the Lake Como basin.

Dave with Little Bear in the background.

Dave and Lake Como.

Little Bear and the Lake Como basin.

Little Bear splits two valleys.

Matt on the Little Bear ridge.

We made it back safely to our campsite and quickly packed up and drove down. Dave's Jeep once again performed quite well over the obstacles going down.

Overall, I would rate Little Bear as one of the most difficult 14ers. The exposure and risk at the Hourglass, coupled with the rockfall potential, make Little Bear very dangerous and not for the beginner climber. I would highly recommend climbing helmets and would even advocate the use of rope and a harness with belay devices for the down-climb. If you're in need of a good climbing helmet, this one from Backcountry.com looks go be a nice buy.

Update on the injured climber we saw on Ellingwood Point: I posted what we had witnessed and discussed with the SAR team on a thread on 14ers.com, which erupted into a lively discussion about hiking with people that have pre-existing medical conditions. The consensus from that discussion was that it is very much the responsibility of someone with a pre-existing medical condition to disclose that condition to their fellow hikers before embarking on a hike, especially if that medical condition may place you or your partners in serious danger, such as what happened in this case. Unfortunately, Elisabeth did not respond well to that discussion on 14ers.com and basically called the whole forum a bunch of expletives. Later on, she sent me a private message requesting that I delete that thread because of the stress it had caused her and because she was unable to obtain employment because of the content of the thread. She claimed that she was being singled out becuase of her condition; however, my guess is that employers saw how immature her response to the whole situation was and did not want to hire someone with such a way of interacting with others. Anyways, I refused to delete the thread and she threatened to sue me for libel and slander because I had implied that her injury was a direct result of her pre-existing medical condition (which of course is not what I had typed at all). I had suggested that it was possible that her epilepsy could cause her to be weaker physically and that would cause you to have a higher probability of falling and hurting yourself. Anyways, I eventually had Bill at 14ers.com delete the thread but I still have the discussion saved as a .pdf if anyone is interested in reading it. Bottom line, I believe a lot can be learned from the mistakes of others, and we should embrace the opportunity to learn at all times.

The purpose of this article is to further educate the climbing community on lightning hazards. Hopefully, with a better, more complete understanding of the hazardous thunderstorm-prone weather in our favorite mountains, there will be a reduction in the number of deaths each year.

This article is re-posted with the permission of the original author, Casey Dorn from Wynnewood, PA. Casey is an aspiring meteorologist with 2 backyard weather stations that he built himself. He is well versed in Physics and Chemistry and has studied/researched them along with meteorology for about 6 years. His personal specialties are in severe weather and large scale snow storms.

Photo by Robin Wilson

As mountain climbers we all should know that being above treeline (or outdoors AT ALL in some situations) is BAD whenever a current or imminent threat for CTG lighting exists. To really drive this point home: THAT INCLUDES PLACES BELOW TREELINE AS WELL! Large, tall wood objects that point at the sky and catch fire do not serve as good protectors against powerful, tall object seeking, fire ingniting things! But, alas...most of us don’t climb with an emergency house in our backpack so it may be a better idea to learn more about mountain weather in the hope that it will save your life in the future. As you climb, you'll here a plethora of supposed "protections" from strikes while at altitude, but, to be brutally honest here, we need to have a discussion about meteorology and physics for a moment to examine whether or not you would win against a battle with lightning.

A discussion on mountain thunderstorms (the "why us" discussion).

We get thunderstorms in the mountains (especially in the rockies) due to two factors
1) Location
2) Elevation

On the first point, the rockies are situated in what I like to call a "mixing pot" of weather systems. We've got warm moist air coming up from the south, and cold, dry air from the west. Thunderstorms (compared to large scale rain/snow storms dependent on large scale weather systems), require mesoscale instability. In other words, thunderstorms form via convection. To demonstrate this, pretend you've got a pot of water on your stove. As the water heats up..it rises to the top of the pot where it cools, spreads out, and falls back down to be re-heated. Thats great and all, but we need MORE to get a thunderstorm.

If our pot was completely smooth on the inside, you'd be able to heat the water well above its boiling point without seeing any bubbles. The water becomes "super heated". Now, if you then dropped a pebble into that water, you'd see a sudden explosion in which all of that water turned to steam at once. In short: we need a "trigger" in the atmosphere to cause what is known as "explosive development" in clouds. Its just like your pot of water...in the morning it simmers and creates cumulus clouds. But, in the morning, the atmosphere can sometimes have what is known as an "inversion", where COOL air is above WARM air. Sometime during late morning, this inversion is impacted by the convective energy rising from the ground, and we get a sudden "trigger". Suddenly, we can get warm moist air to rise ABOVE the point of condensation (dew point), creating towering cumulus clouds that rise very high in our atmosphere. These clouds are then sheared by high altitude winds, we get an anvil, and poof...thunderstorm.

Now, in all of this...we've answered a few important points:

1) The reason thunderstorm development occurs so quickly is because its a small scale "mesoscale" feature that develops suddenly due to a "trigger".
2) We see cumulus clouds in the morning but don't see thunderstorms (generally) until the afternoon because of inversions found in our atmosphere.
3) The rockies are situated in a region which contains all the right ingredients for thunderstorm development.
4) IF YOU SEE EVEN ONE MODERATELY TALL CUMULUS CLOUD BY ABOUT 8:40 AM OR SO, EXPECT AFTERNOON THUNDERSTOMRS!!!!!!

Short expansion on #4: Since the sun doesn’t really get a good chance to heat things up until about 9:00am during the summer, clouds forming before that point indicate significant moisture and heat already exists in our atmosphere. All you need is a trigger.
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Elevation...mountains making the weather just that much worse.

I’m going to discuss this point from the perspective of a climber who has just climbed to the summit of Mt. Elbert.

Its 11:30am, and a thunderstorm has formed about 20 miles to my west. I’m not very concerned. Dry air mass thunderstorms (a typical, non front associated, joe schmo storm that doesn’t last very long) don’t normally last more than an hour. This is because the storm is not “tilted”. As the warm air rises, it forms an updraft that draws in warm, moist air..which rises...and draws in more warm, moist air (etc...). Now, once the developing storm reaches a certain height, it spreads out (from the convection discussion). For a short time, the updraft will continue...even as rain (and graupel) begin to fall from the storm. But, soon, the downdraft (comprised of cool, rain filled air) chokes off the updraft of warm, moist air and the thunderstorm weakens, and dies. Now, I could transition this into a discussion on directional wind shear and how winds that change direction as a function of altitude would remedy this problem...but that isn’t quite so common in the Rockies (that deals more with severe thunderstorms in the plains).

Armed with this knowledge, I sit back and watch the thunderstorm rumble towards me, high altitude winds PUSHING IT FROM WEST TO EAST. But, as the storm approaches...it doesn’t dissipate like I thought it would. It chugs itself up the mountain and STRENGTHENS! In fact, I’ve ignored a very critical fact that is unique to the mountains.

The mountain is a roadblock in the path of the thunderstorm. It won’t go around it because the prevailing winds generally travel from west to east, so its forced upwards.

Now, as the storm complex is elevated, it begins to rise and reform. The storm will first grow more frayed, but in their place, new clouds will form into “turrets”, vibrant and dangerous.

The mountain forces the clouds to rise, initially causing them to grow colder. As temperatures drop, the air can hold less moisture, hence we see heavy rain and cloud shrinkage. But, the clouds also get a boost from the mountains. By the afternoon, the rock is warm, and thermal pockets are scattered like land mines throughout the rockies. Thermals are regions of rising air, and thunderstorms passing through get a “boost” from them, renewing the updraft and extending the life of the storm. As a side note, this process can also form stand alone storms that form directly above the mountains.

In addition, the storm will become stronger...or at least will appear to do so, as graupel (small hail) makes its way to the ground, pelting me as I hightail it off the mountain.

It is also at this point that I begin to notice a tingling sensation on my body. Not good....
As it turns out, these small ice pellets (graupel) have the effect of charge separation.

Ice particles form in clouds well below 32 degrees F. The reason is basically the same as the “boiling pot of water” idea I discussed earlier. Ice freezes ONTO A SURFACE. This could be dust, rock, hair, a hillbilly dancing in a circle...whatever! The important thing is that our conventional “ice cube” is filled with impurities upon which water has frozen into ice. In thunderstorm cloud tops at 30-60 K + feet....we don’t see that many of those things. So, at about 5 degrees F, tiny ice particles about 15 micrometers large begin to form. These act as nuclei for the water, which now quickly freezes onto the surface of the particle. These particles will grow larger and larger until the updraft is unable to keep them aloft, at which time they begin to fall through the cloud. As this happens, they induce charge separation. You see, as the particles bounce around up in the clouds, they collide with each other and with smaller ice particles. The graupel gets a negative charge, while the ice crystals get a positive charge. Since the ice particles are smaller, the updraft holds them aloft and forms into the anvil, while the larger graupel falls towards the ground.

Now, as the grapuel falls, it encounters ice particles that have formed much lower down in the cloud, and at these altitudes, the charge idea is reversed, collisions create a positive charge on grapuel and negative charge on the smaller ice particles, mainly due to the warmer temperatures found lower in the cloud. Now at the bottom of the cloud, the grapuel has a positive charge.

A storm builds over Arrow Peak as seen from Vestal Peak - photo by Matt Payne

Cross section of the storm at this point:
Top: positive
Middle: negative
Bottom: positive

Important to note! Because of the pattern I’ve just described, you’ll see intracloud lightning 1st because the storm doesn’t need to be as well developed to discharge between itself. The storm will discharge between opposite polarities, so top-middle or middle-bottom. This can occur even if the storm is only producing virga (precip not reaching the ground).

As the storm begins to produce observable precipitation (IE reaches the ground), you’ll [generally] begin to see CTG (Cloud to Ground lightning). CTG lightning will start under the shower curtain (area of precip reaching the ground), and gradually radiate outwards to approx 11 miles outside of the curtain. You ARE NOT safe within that radius.

Meanwhile, back on Elbert, I’m crouching down as I’ve begun to feel buzzing in my body and my hair is beginning to stand on end. My hair is standing up because the ground is positively charged. As the positive charge on the ground and negative charge in the middle of the cloud reach a maximum voltage difference, they start to reach towards each other...literally. The positive charge goes upwards (in the process passing through my body and making my hair stand up as it tries to repel itself), while the negative charge heads downwards in what is known as a “leader stroke”. When they meet, negative charge travels along the path of the leader stroke which has ionized the air (making it able to conduct a charge), and the negative charge in the cloud (electrons), transfer to the ground. The energy release is this process is so powerful that photons (light particles) are emitted and we see a flash of lightning, and the heat (hotter than the surface of the sun) causes air to expand rapidly around the bolt creating thunder.

It is for this reason that hair standing on end is a good indicator that something in my immediate area is about to be struck by lightning (which may or may not include me).

Some lightning math....you against lightning, who wins?

Lightning lasts for a very short time, but it is more than enough to kill me as I crouch down on Elbert.

Lets look at the math...
Lightning is DC (direct current)...equation for instant power (IE we divide by seconds)
P=IV Where “P” is power in Watts (joules/sec), “I” is current through measured in amperes, V is the potential difference, measured in volts.

Numbers: 5,000-20,000 amps of current goes through your body.
About 500,000,000 volts, (peak-instant).
About .2 seconds total for the entire electrical sequence, made up of many discharges (flashes) of about 1 millisecond.

Power: billions of volts.

Heat: 54,000 degrees F.

Ouch...

All things considered, this data quite frankly shows that lightning striking you directly...will kill you. It really doesn’t matter if you crouch down, stand up, do the Macarena, offer your soul to a squirrel...you’re toast, really, seriously! To those that quote the “80-90% survival rate”, the majority are NOT direct strikes. In truth, there are rare cases in which a person survives a direct strike..but really, do you want to test that theory out on a 14er? I don’t.

TO LESSEN THE EFFECTS OF A NON DIRECT STRIKE
(Note that I’m not guaranteeing this will work, it should, but if it doesn’t...I don’t want to get a subpoena...(etc)).

1) Take your backpack off, throw metal poles away (etc...). The correct position in a lightning crouch is difficult already, and with a backpack you risk imperfect technique...not good when your life depends on it...and METAL poles, metal this, metal that...self explanatory...lose it!

2) Crouch down at least 50 feet from other members of your group, heels together, toes apart. You should be up in releve? (fancy term for being on the ball of the foot/tip toes). DO NOT PUT THE ENTIRE FOOT ON THE GROUND. You want to have as little of your body touching the ground as possible!!! You want your heels touching so that current running through the ground enters one foot, then goes directly to the other foot and exits, instead of going all the way through the body (remember...we’re not trying to prevent direct strikes here but rather residual current...a true direct strike will certainly kill you).

3) In releve and crouched, push your knees out to the side as far as they can go (like doing a butterfly stretch, but standing).

3) Cover your ears with your hands but keep your elbows out to the sides. It is best to keep your elbows from resting on your knees just in case current running through your feet makes its way up the legs...i.e., to your brain if elbow connects to knee. If you get tired of holding the pose though, resting on the knees would be better than dropping out of the crouch.

4) Crouch your head down towards your chest..again, another reason to have legs turned out...knees+possible electricity+head=really bad.

Remember that this crouch WILL NOT protect you against a direct strike, nor is it a fail safe for any type of strike direct or otherwise. There is NO magic cure against lightning, because we are made of water and easily damaged organs...while lightning is 54,000 degrees and contains enough electricity to power a moderately sized city for a month. Perhaps the best solution may be to get off the mountain sooner....

And through all this, I haven't even mentioned the wonderful time you'll have trying to descend from one of these mountains after a downpour...even if you DON'T get struck... 

Through this article, I hope that I have helped explain at least one weather awareness fact that wasn’t already known. I just couldn’t stand reading the posts of some forums that felt that the precautions were stupid/chances were low (etc...). People DO die from lightning strikes, especially in the mountains. Indeed, we don’t have that many of them out here in the Rockies...but it isn’t for lack of storms (as many of us can attest). Its because we always find members of our climbing groups that do the right thing and make sure we head down when weather threatens. But as of late, I feel that some (myself included) have gotten so used to the lack of weather related deaths on peaks that we’ve begun to take risks with our lives that we all know are extremely foolhardy. I’m being generic here, and I’m sure that most of us remain strong followers of the 12:00pm rule...but hey, when you're only 100 ft from the summit...

This year, we’ve already heard of an above-normal number of deaths in the mountains. This is my opinion mind you...but perhaps we can avoid at least some of the deaths by becoming more educated about the risks involved with our endeavors.

For more on mountaineering safety, please read this 100summits.com article.