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Missouri Mountain was my first "fourteener". I had climbed around in the mountains before - but this shed new light on mountaineering as I knew it. The group of people I went with had several climbers that had already summited all of the 14ners in the state. I learned several lessons on this trip. I first learned to leave some room for expansion in your water bladder when you fill it up at home, 5,000 above sea level. Half
way up the trail, Kathy commented on my immense back-sweat. 'Damn cotton shirts!' - I thought. Yeah, I sweat a lot, but this is ridiculous. I took my backpack off to lose my shirt and noticed that my pack was abnormally wet as well. Time to investigate. I opened my pack to find that the source of the water was a leaking water bladder. I filled it full and sealed it tight back at the house.
Lesson #1: all packages expand at altitude. Luckily, my clothes were wrapped in a plastic trash bag and we broke camp with enough sun to dry my down sleeping bag. My next lesson came by way of Kathy's first aid kit. "blister? - I've got just the fix for you" - she said. She applied some type of battery acid to my heals and I whined and whimpered like there was no tomorrow. o.k. - it was just Second Skin (a blister maintenance ointment) Lesson #2: lace your boots tight and wear real socks. We finally made it to a suitable campsite and took a catnap. We played frisbee, had a great tortellini pasta, watched the stars and went to bed. After a beautiful overnight stay in upper Missouri Gulch, we got an early start for our summit. Within an our or so, our group seemed to segregate itself; the quicker travelers pulling ahead while the more relaxed hikers falling back. Me, with all of my testosterone, decided that I needed to be with the front of the pack. (...go walton!) This proved to be another lesson in mountaineering (...way to go walton!). Lesson #3: Know your route. If nothing else, at least know the route of the people you are following. While the moderate hikers took the Northwest Ridge; the standard class 2 route, we went straight for the North Couliors; class 3 gullies filled with snow. My first time ever in a pair of crampons & my first time to ever use a mountaineering axe. 'Cool' - I thought. Looking back though, I should have been on the standard route with the rest of the newbies. I managed to scramble up the thing in one piece. I actually enjoyed the technical aspect and preferred this sort of thing from here on. We all summited and then glissaded down. This was another first for me - sliding down on my but, in 5 minutes, what took me hours to get up on foot.
And so it began...crampons, axes, GoreTex, on the summit of a gorgeous mountain, surrounded by more
gorgeous mountains - I was thoroughly addicted from this day on.
"Some ice and snow made for an interesting ascent. It was my first technical high altitude climb - loved every minute of it! Was a beautiful sunny day at the summit. We took our obligatory summit photo and started back down the same route. Double rope rappels down the north face made for a fast & sweet decent. Longs Peak rules - I'll be back!" - This was all I jotted down after my first trip up the Cables Route on Longs Peak. I've since been up serveral times. Apparently, I take this peak for granted, as I have no photos to show for it. Rocky Mountain National Park is practically in my back yard. As for Long's Peak, I've managed to get on the Cable Route (summer and winter), the Keyhole Route, and the Keyhole Ridge.
Beginning in 2001, with Mount Huron, several of us in my company started putting together an annual group mountain climb. This year, several people had Longs peak on their minds. I have to admit that I had serious reservations up to, and throughout the trip. Fortunately, we had a strong bunch and everyone was pretty much self sufficient. Several team members hiked in the day before and set up camp at the boulderfield, while the rest of us got up extremely early and drove in for a long day. All in all, the trip was a full sucess, and everyone made the summit. A small group of us even brought ropes and rappeled of the North Face for a descent. We dubbed ourselves the "Mortenson Mountainers" (pretty cheesy).
30 grueling hours up and over Longs Peak! I would have never imagined spending the night on this mountain. There would be no sleeping however on this trip. It was a non-stop push-pull effort to keep moving, stay warm, and get two members of our party off the mountain while their blood was still pumping. Read the complet report on this epic trip here
Mount Beirstadt, like many other 14ners so close to the highway, is a crowded mess during almost any weekend of the year. Winter months will thin the crowds to a trickle, but I don't think one could ever expect solitude on the popular "easy to get to" mountains such as this. While it was enjoyable to hike with my friends on this trip, I'll not likely be back on the summit of Beirstadt Mountain. During this trip, my brother-in-law and I attempted to push on past Beirstadt and complete the traverse over to Mount Evens. This is known as Sawtooth Ridge. It was a rather enjoyable scramble with lots of tricky third to fourth class sections. We ultimately retreated from the ridge due to weather. Mount Evens would have to wait another day.
Jack Needy & Myself climbed an unofficial route in which we decided would be called "Official-Schmicial Route". In other words, who cares if you went up a named route or not. We did not & it was fun all the same. We got in a little snow coulior climbing, along with some 5.2-ish slab climbing.
This was my second attempt Mt. Evans, with the first coming from Bierstadt via Sawtooth Ridge. That attempt was thwarted by weather and a late summit on Beirstadt. Jack & I went to Evans in hopes of ascending the peak by way of the Snave route. The Snave is a meandering collection of snow hung up on the ledges of Evans rugged northwest face. It ends with a fourth class scramble to the summit. To our disappointment, when we arrived at Summit Lake, of whom's east banks mark the start of our chosen route, there was not enough snow to connect the ledges. This made the climb a dangerous pursuit in crossing the loose rocky dry patches.
We ended up ascending a shadowed coulior much to the east of the Snave. Our route was probably very close to the "Diamond II", as listed in Gerry Roaches Colorado Fourteener’s guide. With an early start, the snow was just right. Traversing the ridge was pretty easy going and the summit was anti-climatic. I think the parking lot at the top pretty much ruins the feeling of achievement one usually gets atop a hard earned summit. In fact, I'm glad that I did not make here through my earlier attempt on the Sawtooth Ridge. That was a long haul with several false summits leading to Evans. It would have proven to be a major let-down to do all that only to top out on a blacktop drive. The Snave still looks enticing - we'll have to come back next year or so to catch it in ripe conditions.
The Crestone's, located in the Sangre De Cristo Mountain Range have become my favorite "14ners". The South Colony Lakes area is probably one of the most beautiful places I've been to in the high country. In July of 2001, I went to the Crestone's with the same group of people I had been summiting other 14ners with. For me, this trip wasn't any different from the rest - yet. I'd read the guide book & seen the pictures of the peaks, but had no idea what it was really going to look like standing in the middle of the S. Colony Lakes area.
Our trip began with an overnight stay in Colorado Springs at a friends house. The next morning, we would get up early and begin the treacherous journey up the infamous 4 wheel drive road to the S. Colony Lakes Trailhead. It was a lot of fun for 30 minutes or so. By the time an hour rolled around, I had received my fill of 4 wheeling. At about 1.5 hrs., I had a an extreme head-ache and was ready to get out and walk. All-in-all it took 2 hrs to get through a 5 mile stretch of ridiculously rocky road. On the flip side, the road gets you to within 2 miles of the mountain.
The trail is short and sweet. Before you know it, you are looking up into one of the prettiest alpine valleys Colorado has to offer. We found a nice camping spot to bunker down and rest up for the next days activities. Morning came quickly that night. This was probably because I couldn't stop my mind from spinning in anticipation for the climb. The group was going to gain the pass between Humbolt Peak and Crestone peak. From there they would hike the rim around the top of the valley and then climb Crestone Peak from the north. There was talk of doing the traverse from the Peak to Crestone Needle, but this was left open. I'm not sure what was in my coffee that morning, but I was up and off like the energizer bunny. There were a couple of mountain goats at Upper S. Colony Lake. The size of these animals was absolutely amazing. Their muscles ripped through their fur coats with every step. We were cautious not to get very close, but did manage to get a couple of photos with them. 
From here, the group began to split, and I was on a fast pace. I believe that once I reached the pass, I decided that I was going for the grand tour. I headed around the rim and stopped at the northern-most point for a break and some food. The "Bears Playground" was just a little to the north of me. This was a high meadow between several other peaks that, apparently, is often visited by bear families fresh out of hibernation. I took some photos and set off agian. My route was to be the North Buttress, a 4th class scramble up to Crestone Peak's eastern summit. I had a lot of fun & thoroughly enjoyed the 4th class climbing on Crestone's conglomerate knobby slabs. From the east summit, one has to dip back down and cross the North Couloir before heading back up to the summit proper. Another quick snack and some photo's at the summit & I decided to go for it. The traverse from the Peak to the Needle was awesome. 
Gerry Roach calls this traverse a "Classic" in his book Colorado's Fourteeners. It is also deemed one of Colorado's "Four Great Fourteener Traverses". I can see why. I had an ear to ear grin the entire length of it. The last push up to the summit of the Needle was the most memorable experience of the climb. For those who love exposure, this one is for you. I'm not sure, but it seemed to be around 50 feet of 60-70 degree slab climbing on some of Crestone's finest knobs. It was one of those where upon reaching the summit, you realize that you've been holding your breath for way too long, and let out a healthy exhale followed by a huge grin. The feeling of satisfaction one gets from an experience like this simply can not be duplicated anywhere else. Well, I got my high for the day. Time to start heading back to camp. I followed the trail to the south side of the peak which lead down to Broken Hand Pass. From here, it was just a quick hike back to camp. I was the first to return to camp, and decided to take a catnap. It had been a beautiful day. I will come back here as often as I can. The 2 mile approach lends itself to a great trip for entertaining visiting friends and family who wish to see the wonders of the high country.
Unfortunately, this trip marked the demise of a very close friend of mine - My Camera!. I can also say that writing of a trip taken several years prior is quite hard without pictures to jog the memory. I know that this was indeed a challenging climb. The infamous "Knife-edge" ridge leading to the summit of Capital has humbled many. Those who endeavor to hike all of the Colorado 14ners, often find themselves turning back at the Knife-edge. Many parties rope up to cross this ridge. Our group did not. Dave, his wife Kersten, Kathy, and I all hiked in the night before. We hit the trail early as usual for our summit attempt. I recall leaving the trail at the pass and ascending the ridge directly to peak K2. Gerry Roach mentions this as an alternate to the class 2-3 trail. It was a great alternate, and I highly recommend it to all. I reached the Knife-edge first and wasted no time getting on with business. On my way back across the ridge, Kathy had begun her trip across the famed traverse. I took a photo of her as she passed, and attempted to clip my camera back on to my chest harness. However, the carabiner gate had not closed, and was hung up on the harness. Oblivious to the pending doom of my camera, I merrily pressed on to get back across the ridge. A few feet later, I watched as my camera fell over 1000 feet, and shattered to pieces with every bounce until it was finally out of sight.
Dave and Kersten took much longer getting to the summit of K2. It is required to reach this point to safely begin the Knife-edge. By the time they reached it though, the clouds above us convinced them to call it a day. This was a safe call, as the exposed ridge and summit of Capital is not a good place to be if storms and lightning roll in. So...Capital Peak is an awesome mountain, earning its' respect and reputation as one of Colorado's toughest 14ners by way of the "standard route".
...photo's courtesy if Dave & Kersten ;-)
Another photo-less trip! Still suffering from the loss of my camera from the Capital trip, the LaPlata trip would go unphotographed. And also similar to the Capital trip, this one will yield a short trip report. No photos - no recollection (I think I was there though). Actually, I was there. I know this because I was very disappointed by the Ellingwood Ridge route. I expected something much more from a route bearing the name of the late and great Ellingwood.
The described approach for this route takes one almost directly from the trailhead to the shoulder of the ridge, below treeline. We opted to head up the trail a bit further. After an hour or so, we left the trail and headed straight for the notch in the lowpoint of the ridge. This seemed easier than navigating through the dense forest to find the start of the ridge proper. In fact, the route itself places the climber on the ridge very little at all. Above treeline, most of the trail is between 50 and 100 feet below the ridge and to the east.
The hike was uneventful. The summit was uneventful. The return hike was long and boring. I hope not to offend the great defenders of the Colorado Fourteeners. However, this trip turned me off in terms of "peak-bagging and 14ners". The rest of my pursuits would be more serious endeavors with greater risk and rewards. Aside from the company 14er outings that had now begun, I would chase down only those with some sort of technical flavor.
As far as planning goes, this trip was about as discombobulated as it gets. What started as a well organized trip of co-workers up to Willow Lake for an attempt on Challenger and Kat Carson soon became much less exciting. After mandatory Saturday “volunteer work” was delegated to several of the planned participants, the trip was reduced to a 1-day effort up Kelso Ridge to Torreys Peak and then on to Greys Peak. Upon receipt of the revised trip plans, many opted out. Of those which remained, it was decided that Quandary was a more desirable goal. This, again, dropped a few more participants off the list. We went from a group of 17 to a group of 4 (perhaps a blessing in disguise). By this time, I was numb to the whole ordeal and just wanted to get in the mountains if even just to camp!
Before leaving Fort Collins, I talked by buddy Matt into tagging along for the ride. We packed the Saturn to the hilt and hit the road. On I-70, we connected with the rest of our group who had arranged to stay at a friend’s condo in Silverthorne since there were no campsites at the trailhead. Matt & I were psyched to camp and had awesome “eats” planned via Matt’s Dutch Oven expertise. We headed south on Hwy. 9 towards the Quandary trailhead and decided to try our luck on some random dirt road a mile or so before the trailhead. We scored. There were sites everywhere and no signage prohibiting its use. I gathered firewood while Matt set up the “slack-line”. For those unfamiliar with a slack line (like I recently was), it is simply a long stretch of climbers webbing tensioned tightly between two trees – then try to walk it like a tightrope. The challenge is extremely addicting, yet not so hard as to discourage those it continually spits off onto the ground. I found the use of a cheater stick to be pretty handy. We made fajita burritos and blueberry crumb cake for dinner. After dinner we went for a brief exploratory hike, ate some more, sipped wine, and played on the slack line until dark.
It’s a good thing that Matt is a light sleeper, because I never heard the alarm. We got up at 5:30am to start boiling water for breakfast and get the site packed up. The oatmeal didn’t go over so well, but the leftover blueberry crumb cake was there to save the morning. After quickly cramming everything back into the Saturn, we headed off to the trailhead. We got to Blue Lake trailhead around 6:15 and the rest of the gang (Dave, Kirsten, & Bob) pulled up around 6:30. After brief introductions for Matt and a complimentary round of leftover crumb cake, we set off for the trail.
Our route took us up along the North side of Blue Lake. The lake was crystal clear. According to Gerry Roach’s guide book, the trail cutting West to the saddle of Fletcher and Quandary was 200 yards beyond the trailhead. As trails often do, I believe the standard approach to the saddle has changed a bit over the years. We followed a well beaten path that veered West almost 200 feet from the trailhead (maybe Roach meant feet rather than yards?). The slog up to the saddle was very plain. Being on a less traveled route, I expected to see some mountain goats. We saw none. We gradually caught up to another party that seemed to be heading for Fletcher Pk. As it turned out, they too had their sights on the West Ridge. However, they went on to one saddle to the West of ours before turning back East to gain the ridge. Once on the ridge, our party disassembled as we all set our own pace. Class 3-4 scrambling gets my blood pumping right away. Matt & I were in the zone and marched up the ridge pretty quickly. Bob was right on our tales, with Dave and Kirsten just behind him. Everyone loved the scrambling. It reminded Dave and Kirsten that I’ve been slacking on the regular rock climbing outings that we began the year before. It took 2 hours and 45 minutes from car to summit.
We went from seeing two people on the trail to joining a group of probably 35 on the summit. This is exactly why we chose not to do the standard approach. While relaxing at the summit, we met this very kind solo hiker (Valarie?) who offered to drive us back to our vehicles if we wanted to take the gentle class 2 route down. She was training to work for the Division of Wildlife (DOW), and provided great conversation on the 2.7 mile return trip to her truck. We were amazed at all the late starters still herding up the standard route, despite the thunderclouds that had been moving our way for the last hour and a half. To no avail, we began alerting parties of the danger. The lure of a “Colorado Fourteener” so close to I-70 is a dangerous one. It started raining just as we reached the vehicle. Val drove us back up the dirt road to our vehicles at Blue Lake trailhead. Thanks Val, & good luck at the DOW. Despite my lack of enthusiasm towards Quandary, I had a great time. The West Ridge route is great for anyone loving exposure in the high country.
"The traverse between Little Bear and Blanca is one of Colorado's four great traverses. It is the most difficult of the four. Simply put, this is Colorado's most astonishing connecting ridge."- Gerry Roach; Colorado's Fourteeners, From Hikes to Climbs.
With a guide book description like that, how could I NOT go and examine for myself, the "astonishing" nature of this traverse. In hindsight though, I'm not sure which was more astonishing; the well reputed traverse between these two mountains, or the fact that we made it up and down a nationally ranked 4-wd road with Steve's Dodge. Steve is one of my brother-in-laws. He also is the very proud owner of a 1999 Dodge 1500 pick-up, with a modest 3" lift. It should be noted that Steve's front bumper is armed with a 10,000lb winch. This was clearly the workhorse behind our push (pull!) up to Como Lake. We winched a 4 times going up and 3 times coming down. After spending the weekend camping at Como Lake, we saw only modified Jeep's, Scout's, and International's - not a single pick-up. As one jeeper put it: "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it!". This, of course, made Steve quite happy with his Dodge.
We made it to the lake just in time for the afternoon storms to unleash their fury. It's a good thing we made the time we did. Crawling those rocks in the snow and hail that followed would not have been possible. It would continue to dump on us for the remainder of the night. Fortunately, with the truck parked just meters away, we had access to all the tarps, bungies, and tie-off's necessary to set up a cozy cooking and lounging shelter. While all of the hiker's spent the evening confined to their tents in fear of the torrential pelting that the hail would deliver, we sat in our camp chairs, ate and marveled at the intensity of the storm. This was not typical of August weather in the mountains. However, this was exactly why climbers should always be prepared for the extreme elements in the mountains. Although we were sheltered, the mood was noticeably grim, as we all pondered the same question: would we even be able to climb tomorrow?. Dave and Kersten, whom we arranged to meet at Como Lake, had been there for the previous day. Their report was that the storms were there the previous night as well. They also reported that snow and hail left a substantial coating of ice high on the mountains that made an early start dangerous and unfavorable at best. Any push up Little Bear would have to be a late start to allow for the sun to heat and melt the ice on the upper technical sections. A late start would then require that the weather hold out long enough to allow for the traverse and descent. Things did not look good. The guide book stated that the traverse alone could take anywhere from 2 to 8 hours to complete. Uncertain of the weekend's outcome, we all retired to our tents for an attempt at a night of sleep.
The following morning, we woke to a fresh blanket of August snow. It was a heavy wet mix that seemed as if it would melt easily with a little bit of sunshine, so we hoped. Dave and Kersten had decided that they would not attempt Little Bear and Blanca. For them, this climb was pushing the envelope just enough that all factors needed to be in their favor for a comfortable effort and success. Their adventures the day before with the ice high on Ellingwood Point gave them very little comfort in the harder climb up Little Bear's steep Northwest Face. Their decision to stay down in camp was a wise one indeed, as Steve and I would later find out.
Steve & I decided that we would give it a go around 10:00am. The sun had been clear and strong all morning, and the mountain was clearly beginning to heat up. My plan was to simply climb the Northwest Face and make an assessment there as to whether or not we would continue on with the traverse. If the weather did not look good, we would simply head down the standard route of Little Bear and call it a day. The approach to the base of Little Bears Northwest Face took less than 45 minutes. For the next hour and a half, I climbed with an ear to ear grin. The steep fourth class face reminded me of climbing in the Crestone Mountains. It was truly enjoyable, and fully exposed. The route-finding on the Northwest Face turned out to be quite easy. We made our way for the prominent notch located just East of the summit. At noon, Steve and I stood atop of Little Bear Peak. The clouds in the valley next to us seemed to have been flirting with us a bit. They would rise to the ridge, and then recede. Our valley, however, remained crystal clear. Steve had to push himself pretty hard for the last bit of the climb. With this, he confessed that continuing on to Blanca was not his desire. I understood exactly how he felt. In contrast though, I was fired up to tackle "Colorado's most astonishing ridge". The mile and a half of fifth class(5.0-5.2) ridge that lay to the East was taunting me. And respectfully so, I was intimidated. I'd never been on an exposed ridge of that length. Retreat from the ridge would be very difficult in the event of a sudden storm.
Steve and I pulled out our topo map and reviewed the options. Steve felt comfortable in descending the standard route on Little Bear. He also knew that my heart was racing with the prospects of the ridge. We decided that he would head back to camp and I would continue my journey. We hugged, wished each other a safe farewell, and sprinted off in opposite directions. During our push up the Northwest Face, we noticed a roped party of three crossing the notch just above us, continuing on to the ridge. We also encountered a party of two unroped climbers while just below the summit. They to, were making their run for the ridge. Uncomfortable climbing alone, I thought that if I could just catch up to the other climbers on the ridge, I'd feel much safer. While distance on the ridge was hard to judge, I feel like I caught both parties at about the 1/3 point. The roped party was stumped with a sudden drop-off on the ridge. It required 15 feet or so of technical down-climbing that the roped leader would have to complete before safely bringing his roped partners across. In my approach, I saw that they had all been stationary at this spot for quite some time. 
As I got closer, I passed the slower of the two in the unroped party. He looked weary. At the drop-off, the other hiker stood in queue behind the roped team. With a quick assessment, I had the riddle solved. At this point, I knew that I would not feel any safer traveling with these parties, but rather, use my momentum to complete a speedy traverse to Blanca. Behind us all, approximately 25 feet, was a small dip in the ridge. From the dip, several ledges continued downward and to the East. The ledges would take us all to the bottom of the down-climb just below the drop-off, and allow passage to the rest of the ridge. Without hesitation, I did just that. The others wasted no time in following. Within minutes (it seemed), I was 3/4 of the way out on the ridge and had left the others to climb at their own pace. From the Summit of Little Bear, it took exactly two hours to reach the summit of Blanca. Time seemed to fly while in route. Hence the old saying, "time fly's when you're having fun". Looking back, the climbers on the ridge were only at the halfway point. The roped party had wisely begun a rappel descent from the ridge. The two hikers still pushed on. The flirting clouds in the adjacent basin were getting to be somewhat of a threat. They had risen from the valley and had taken the form of thunderclouds. Sure enough, they began to crackle and rumble - not a comforting sound when climbing a mountain. Wanting to remain in safe respects, I hustled down the standard route of Blanca. The ridge climbers though, I feared would be in severe danger very shortly. As it turned out, they made a hasty scramble, bailing from the ridge when the storms proved eminent. By the time I reached the high trial back to camp, the hail had once again begun. I hoped and prayed that Steve had completed his return to camp. Our 2-way radios would not reach each other though. Steve didn't make it back as fast as I thought, but made it, nonetheless. Dave and Kersten met him on the low ridge, on the standard route up Little Bear. They would return to camp just as I did, wet from the storm.
The rest of the evening was spent much like the night before. We stood under our tarp, cooked hot meals, drank warmed red wine, and complained about the snow/hail in August!
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