#14erchallenge

I had to be at work by noon today and I didn’t really feel like getting up at 2am this morning, so I chose a quick, easy, and close hike.  Also it’s a Thursday and there’s snow on the peaks, so I was hoping to avoid hiking traffic.  

I got up at 3:30am and made it to the Quandry Trailhead at 6am.  There were noticeably more vehicles on the road this morning than when I usually drive to 14ers.  Must have been because I wasn’t leaving quite as early.  

The road to the trailhead is a short 2WD dirt road.  I can’t imagine it ever gives people problems.  There are two parking lots, a lower one (with 2 clean porta potties) that can hold about 50 cars, and an upper one that can hold 5-6.  

I started at 6:15am.  This is obviously a great snowshoeing trail, as it’s wide and has a lot of wooden trail signs pointing the way. I was able to see them, even in the dark.  

The trail meandered through a forest and when I came to treeline the snow began on the trail and sun began to rise.  I absolutely LOVE sunrises from 14ers, so I stopped to take a few pictures.  

At this point I was at 12,800’ and microspikes were needed.  Well, not needed necessarily, as technically you could just follow the ridge to the left and not need them, but what’s the fun in that?  I put on my microspikes and climbed straight up that ridge, looking for cairns.  This one was obvious, but after this I didn’t see any more.  

Funny thing, that ridge didn’t seem to end!  As soon as I’d reach the top of one, I’d see another.  And they were all covered in snow.  Luckily the snow was packed tightly, but it felt like I was hiking on my tip-toes.  

I kept climbing and climbing and climbing, and eventually I just had one more ridge to go

It felt like it had taken FOREVER to climb that entire ridge, but I summited at 8am.  The summit was flat but looked a bit rocky under all that snow.

I took a look around. The views were amazing!  The entire high country is blanketed in snow!

I took a picture to prove I’d summited

And turned around. Now I got to hike back down that ridge! Hiking down is usually more difficult for me than hiking up because I train running uphill (so my muscles are used to it) and my center of gravity is off when hiking down hill.  Also, my knees are at about 95% right now after those falls two weeks ago.  I only notice it when I either touch my knees where they were injured or go down stairs/climb down mountainsides.  Not to mention by now the sun had come up and the snow was now more icy/slippery.

That ridge seemed to go on forever on the way down as well!  It was indeed quite slippery, and I was happy to practice maintaining my balance on the ice/snow.  I appreciated when I sank into the snow about 2-3 inches, as it gave me traction.  I never post-holed, but it was obvious others had and would later in the day.  

Here’s a happy story: I rounded a corner, and saw a Mountain Goat!  

I’ve hiked 14ers dozens of times and this is the first time I’ve ever seen a mountain goat while hiking! I know they’re popular on a lot of the trails, but I never seem to see them on those trails.  Anyway, I named him Billy and he seemed to like me.

In fact, Billy followed me for about a quarter mile of the trail!  

He was a slow hiker however, and soon I had to say goodbye.  

This part of the trail gave me the views I’d missed hiking in the morning: views of a few 13ers: Wheeler Mountain, Drift Peak, and Fletcher Mountain.

All in all, this was a pretty easy hike.  I made it back to the trailhead at 9:55am, which meant I’d hiked about 7 miles with 3500’ in gain elevation in less than 3.5 hours, and that included time to take a lot of sunrise/goat pictures, and to hike alongside a mountain goat for quite a while.  

I’ll probably be back to do this one with more winter conditions (and friends) later this season! I need an excuse to try out my new snoeshoes…

This week has been challenging 14er wise.  I’m working from home all week, so basically I could’ve hiked any day I wished.  I’d planned on hiking Monday, but we had a big storm roll in and blanket all of Colorado with snow.  That meant I couldn’t hike Tuesday either.  I made an awesome choice and hiked Uncompaghre Wednesday. I was quite pleased with myself, and wanted a similar success today.  Most of the peaks I still have left to hike were too snow covered to hike this week, so I went online last night and tried once again to get information on the Crestones. The webcams made it look like they were pretty devoid of snow, but I wanted to make sure before heading out there. The forecast said it would be clear, with temperatures in the 50s with 25mph winds.  The winds were higher than I’d have liked, but in the past the wind speeds have been overrated, so I didn’t pay much attention to them.  

I checked my schedule for today and cleared it a bit (my son would pick up my daughter from school) and tried to get to be early.  That didn’t work, but I did manage to get in 3 hours of sleep before waking up at 1am to head to the trail.  

This is where my bad luck began.  I’d copied and pasted the GPS coordinates into my phone, and when they pulled up they looked like what I’d printed out from my research:  same mileage, cities, highways, etc.  So I just followed the directions on my phone and arrived at what I’d thought was the trailhead.  It was kind of weird I’d gone through a residential area, but it was on an unpaved road and we were backing up to the forest, so I figured this was the trailhead. But when I started on the “trail” (no sign, which is a pet peeve of mine) I realized I was at a water treatment plant?  I pulled out my GPS and I was right where I was supposed to be, but when I zoomed in I realized I was about 15 yards off from the exact trailhead, and since I was in the middle of nowhere it would take me 20 miles to go around on the roads and park in the proper spot. I briefly considered just hiking towards the trailhead but thought better of it and drove around.  The lady who’s house I’d parked in front of would appreciate I’d moved my truck from her front lawn.

This meant I’d arrived at the trailhead 30 minutes later than my intended time.  I was already cutting it close (I know, I know, it’s a bad idea to put time limits on hikes, but I’m a single mom and have a lot of other responsibilities too: If I’m going to hike I have to accept these time restrictions, summit or no).  30 minutes can equal 2 miles if I book it.  I seriously hoped I didn’t just endanger my ability to summit because of this stupid mistake.

The drive in was 2WD all the way.

And there was ample parking at the trailhead

Woohoo!  A trail sign!  I LOVE these things!  This meant I was on the right trail.  

I grabbed my stuff and was off at 5:30am.  Right away I had difficulty.  The trail obviously went to the right, but there were several social trails.  

And it was dark.  GPS is great, but it’s off a few feet in every direction, and I couldn’t really tell which way to go.  There was a stream to the right, and I figured that was where I was supposed to go, but there didn’t seem to be a way to cross it?  

In the dark (even with a great flashlight) I couldn’t see across the stream, and it didn’t look like the trees made a bridge across.  I spent another 5 minutes looking at my GPS and going in circles before taking the plunge and just walking across the stream, not knowing how deep it was.  My feet and legs were wet because the water was about a foot and a half deep, but there was an obvious trail when I made it to the other side.  

Woot!  I was on my way!  The first 4.5 miles was switchbacks.  Lots and lots of switchbacks.  I didn’t mind much, because I was working out the elevation gain in my head and this was an easy way to get in those 4.75 miles to Willow Lake.

I crossed several smaller streams in the dark and saw numerous waterfalls.  I’d be getting pictures of them later!  (here they are)

Side note:  water at this altitude/temperature means ice.  If it looks wet, assume it’s slippery and unstable.  I know this from experience.  

Especially on those log “bridges”.

The last quarter mile before the lake was where the trail got rough.  Well, not rough, but messy.  Lots of ice and snow and mud on the trail.  Yuck!

The view was great though! The only downside from this route was I wouldn’t be seeing a sunrise (it was on the other side of the mountain).  It looked like I’d picked a great peak to climb today.  There was minimal snow when compared with other 14ers and no clouds!

Just before reaching the lake I was watching my feet as I was hiking (ice, remember?) and I saw what looked like toes in the mud.  I briefly thought it was a print from someone wearing those shoes with the individual toes, but quickly realized it was a (small) bear print!  Woot!  Awesome! That meant there was a bear in the area! It looked bigger than a cub print, but not big enough to be a full grown bear, and the prints were heading away from me (back where I’d came from) so we’d missed each other.  Oh well, maybe I’d see it on the way down?

I pressed onward, over what looked like it was a waterfall at various points during the winter

And arrived at the lake!

It was now 7:40am.  I’d hiked 4.75 miles in 2 hours 20 minutes. Uphill. Immediately the weather changed.  The wind picked up dramatically, and there was no sun?  The temperature dropped as I looked for the correct trail.   I knew it went left behind the waterfall on the other side of the lake.

My GPS told me to go one way, but that way was now “closed for restoration” so I did my best to look for the proper trail.  No dice. I ended up kind of bushwhacking my way through some willows (there had been a trail there previously that was not too overgrown) and up some rocks to where I saw a sign indicating the trail. I checked my GPS:  success!

I kept trudging, admiring the view

As soon as I made my way over the waterfall area I got a good look at the Crestones:  This view offered a stark contrast to their backsides!  I was amazed at how much snow there was here in the middle compared to the east!  No worries though, snow was easy enough to navigate.  

I crossed a few very slippery half-frozen streams and made it to a large basin.  

The wind was howling at this point.  I looked up at the intended route and sighed inwardly:  a gully.  A BIG gully. I hate gullies!  The first part didn’t look too bad though, and it looked like the sun was coming out?

Nope, it went right back behind the only cloud in the sky:  the one very similar to the one I’d encountered on Blanca Peak last month.  UGH!  The weather was supposed to be sunny, clear, warm, and windy?  When will I learn 14ers create their own weather?  It WAS sunny, clear, warm, and windy everywhere except in the basin I was in.

Here is was cloudy, cold, and very, very windy.  I rounded some large boulders and looked at the hike in front of me.  Lots of snow covered the trail, with no footprints.  I was probably the first to take this route since before Monday’s storm.  No worries though, I liked hiking in the snow.  I put on my microspikes and headed in.  

I made my way to the gully. It’s actually much bigger than this picture indicates.  I looked at my watch.  I had exactly 2 hours to summit both peaks.  In normal conditions, even with a little snow, this was doable.  Today however was another story.  I decided to start climbing and see how far I could make it, then adjust my goals.  

The gully sucked. There wasn’t enough snow to make it easy to climb, but there was a lot of ice.  And wind.  Lots and lots of wind.  Bitter, cold, snow-filled wind.  I picked a ledge and followed it, which was much easier than hiking up the scree/snow. I gained the first ridge and looked at the rest of the route.  It went to the right of the gully.  Right where the wind was swirling snow into the air.  

The weather kept getting worse.

The wind picked up and knocked me into the side of the mountain, hard.  It pressed and held me there as ice crystals swirled up and around me and gave me an unwanted dermabrasion on the only exposed surface of my body:  my face. I stood back up and got my bearings, but another gust of wind did the same thing all over again.  This was not going well.  I got out my map, and looked at the ‘easy’ ridge I’d get to summit after making it up the side of the gully.  Ugh!  It was covered in snow!  (and most likely ice) And that wind!  Down here it had to be at least 65+MPH.  Up there? Probably worse.  I did some mental calculations, and figured it wasn’t safe for me to try to cross that snow/ice covered ridge in this wind.  It was knocking me around like a doll down here:  I didn’t stand a chance on the exposed ridge.  Maybe I could wait the weather out and see if the sun re-emerged and the wind died down?  It was early yet, but how long would that take?  Even now I wasn’t sure I’d be able to summit one, let alone both of the peaks I’d wanted before I had to turn back around to make it home on time, help from the sun or not.  How far could I make it if the sun was out?  Was it worth the wait?

Take a look at this video. See where that snow is circling to the right of the snow filled gully?  That’s the route I needed to take, and then across the ridge to the left.  

Then I really got to thinking.  If I wasn’t going to summit today, what was I doing mentally calculating how much further I could go?  Here I was, cold, on top of a gully, halfway up the side of a huge mountain, trying to gauge how much farther up I could safely climb, when I had no intention anymore of summiting.  The wind was knocking me around, the ice was terrible, and my fingers were numb.  The climb up the gully had been difficult and slow, and I knew from experience the hike down would be worse (center of gravity problems mixed with ice means slow going and causes slips and falls).  And here I was, mentally calculating how much further I could go before I absolutely must turn back because of TIME.  To make it to a class I was teaching on outdoor survival skills.  Wouldn’t it be ironic if the reason I didn’t make it to the meeting was because I needed to be rescued?  

Good point.  I turned around and headed back.   Summiting was optional, but making it down was mandatory.  The gully down was indeed worse than the way up, and took me twice as long.  By the time I’d made it to the bottom my fingers were turning white and I couldn’t feel them anymore (they kept gripping snow for traction, and I don’t do well in the cold).  The look back was beautiful though!

I re-crossed over the waterfall and looked at Willow Lake from above

I probably should have noted the ice hanging from the waterfalls earlier.  It was cold here, and had been for a few days.  

There were tons of waterfalls on the way down, and lots of mud/ice to trudge through.  No sign of that bear though.

Oh, but the birds were ‘singing’

What really hurt was turning back and looking on the mountain I hadn’t climbed.  It looked warm and inviting on this side, yet I knew once I rounded the back it was a bitterly cold snow-globe of ice, wind, and snow.   What’s worse is turning back today meant I might not get to hike another 14er this year:  I don’t have many more available days so this might be it.   I took a good look at all the mountain ranges on my way in.  They’re socked with snow, and all are getting wind this weekend.  Snow I can handle, but this kind of wind? Not fun.

It ended up being an 11 mile hike, I’m not sure about the elevation gain, but 3500’+

I’ve hiked 43 14ers and this is the first time I’ve had to turn back due to weather.  And what’s worse, it was due to the wind, not snow, rain, lightning, etc.  Oh well, the mountain will still be there next year.  I’ll try again!

Notes:  

·         The trailhead is 4WD

·         The trail was pretty much free from snow, even after Monday’s storm.  Microspikes were not needed.

·         This would be a great first class 2 hike:  it’s easy to follow, relatively short, and not too taxing

·         If you’re looking to spend the night on a 14er summit, this would be a good choice

Uncompaghre, or “Uncle Padre” as it’s affectionately referred to, wasn’t supposed to be my hike today.  We had a storm come in on Monday, blanketing the entire state with snow.  So I’d gone on the Colorado Webcams page to see what the conditions looked like in different areas of the state (if you don’t know about this site, take a look: http://www.keno.org/colorado_web_cams/colorado_cams.htm )

I was specifically looking at peaks in the Crestone area, and the webcam made it look like there was surprisingly little snow.  I was thrilled!  That is, until night fell and I looked at the web cam again, and it still showed daylight. It was then I went on the forum and someone said there was a lot of snow on the Crestones, and I concluded the webcam must have been broken.  It was showing the correct time/date, but the image was obviously wrong.  UGH!  

No worries though, I had about 5 different 14ers I was interested in, so I just went down my list. I wasn’t 100% sure the conditions weren’t great at the Crestones (I asked for clarification from the poster and never got any), but the webcams for Lake City looked promising.  I gave it some thought and did a pro-con list.  The Crestones were closer, the hike was longer, and I’d get 2 14ers in tomorrow, but I didn’t know for certain the conditions. Uncompaghre was a lot further (6 hours), the hike was shorter, and I’d only get in one peak (I really wanted to hike it with Wetterhorn).  But my knees still weren’t 100% from my falls last week (I’d say 80% on one knee, 85% on the other) so a shorter hike was probably a good idea.  Also, Uncompaghre is affectionately referred to as “Uncle Padre”, and it’s my Uncle’s birthday today, who pretty much was like a father to me growing up, so I saw it a sign of good luck and just went for it. Uncompaghre it was!

I woke up at midnight and made it to the trailhead at 6am (remember, I don’t sleep well at trailheads, so it’s just easier for me to drive and hike).  There’s an obvious sign telling you where the trailhead is.  If you don’t have 4WD, park here.

The drive up is definitely 4WD.  My directions indicated I’d cross 2 streams, but I crossed 3, and was delighted to do so! My whole face lit up when I saw the first one:  I love it when I get to drive my Tundra through streams!  

The only downside to this road is it’s pretty narrow, and a bit bumpy in places. There were 3 turns that were tight for my Tundra, and I had to back up and reposition my truck to make the turns happen.

There was also a lot of ice on the trail (which I’m assuming is gone now).  In fact, there was a lot of snow on the entire drive up, starting at about 8000’.  This seriously worried me for the hike ahead!  I had microspikes and snowshoes, but would rather not carry them if not needed.

The trailhead had parking for about 10 vehicles and was pretty open.

The weather forecast for the area today was a low of 22 and a high of 44, but as I drove I saw the temperature drop to 19 degrees, and stay there.  Lovely.  There was a half moon, and I could see there wasn’t enough snow on the mountains for snowshoes (woot!), but I brought along my microspikes anyway.  I bundled up and began my hike at 6:15am.  There were two Park Service trucks at the trailhead, but I never saw people on the trail. The trucks were still there when I left.

The beginning of the trail had a bit of ice in the creek areas

I hiked through a basin, and about a mile in there was a little bit of snow on the trail, but it was easily avoidable, and this was seriously the most snow I saw on the entire hike.

As I came to the trail junction for Matterhorn Creek and Uncompaghre Peak the sun and the temperature began to rise.  This is why I’d woken up at midnight!  The sunrise was amazing!

I turned around to take a look at Uncompaghre.  Wow.

The entire trail was well maintained and very easy to follow. It was almost too easy, it didn’t seem as if I were hiking a 14er.  

The Alpine glow this morning was fabulous against the blue sky!  I hiked up some switchbacks to Uncompaghre’s south ridge.  

This ridge gave me amazing views!  I had fun taking pictures

At the top of the ridge I turned left and went behind the mountain

I followed the trail and looked for this rock tower.  

You can either go to the left of it or the right of it.  I chose the right

The hike up until this point was very much a class 1 hike.  However, at this point there’s about 30 vertical feet of hand and feet climbing.  Woot! My favorite!  I took a picture and put away my camera.  Here’s why this is considered a class 2:  

This is what it looked like from the top

The rest of the hike was pretty straightforward.  I just followed a trail to the summit.  

The summit was a wide, flat, barren summit.  If you were looking for a 14er to camp out on for the night, this would be it (if you don’t mind wind). I summited at 8am.

I turned to look around, and all around me there was snow!  I’d picked the only peak in the area without snow!  Amazing!

I took a summit photo to prove I’d summited

And as I looked over the edge, I saw there was snow on the north face of the mountain.  What a drop!

I didn’t spend long on the summit, but turned around and started back down.  As I was descending the class 2 part of this hike I stopped to take in the view.  

I thought to myself how this was the perfect hike for today!  I didn’t get in Wetterhorn, but there are several 13ers in the area I can partner with Wetterhorn and take my time on instead of rushing to get them all in. I was glad I’d chosen to hike Uncompaghre solo for today.

I didn’t see anyone else on the hike until I was just about to exit the basin.  It was a couple hiking together.  I didn’t see anyone else the entire day, and luckily didn’t pass anyone on the drive down.

I had someone ask me the other day who I was hiking for.  The question caught me off guard, but I guess you can’t set a goal like hiking all 58 of Colorado’s 14ers and aggressively tackling that goal without people thinking you’re doing it for a cause.  For those of you who don’t know me, this type of behavior is typical “Laura” behavior.  If I’m going to do something, I’m going to give it 100%.  Intense is a word often used to describe me.  Also, if I’m not going to give it 100% I usually don’t do it at all. 

No one’s noticed this yet, but I wear a different School in the Woods hat on each hike.  Usually it’s the last one I knitted, but sometimes it’s just one I like.  I also like the fact I’m summiting these peaks alone, and not many women hike/climb alone.  I see a lot of men solo, but I’ve yet to see a woman.  Why can’t women be mountaineers too?  Side note:  I am looking for a climbing buddy, but I really do enjoy hiking alone.  Hiking is a solo activity, but climbing should be done with others.

Why do I like hiking alone? 

It gives me time to think.  I love to think and process information, and when I go by myself I don’t need to fill the silence with talk. 

I can set the pace.  I can hike as fast or as slow as I’d like.  This is important because I’m usually on a schedule to get back home by a certain time to be with/pick up my kids.  I have a time table that doesn’t give a lot of room for error.  I rarely hike slowly, but I’d feel bad for my partner if I was slowing them down.  I’m always hiking at a brisk pace that’s usually difficult for others to keep up with.  I get frustrated hiking slower than necessary.  Yes, hiking is competitive for me.  If you’re ahead of me or behind me, we’re racing.  (No, I don’t allow this to let me make reckless decisions when hiking, I know when to alter my pace for safety reasons). 

I’m not a fan of taking breaks while hiking, even for drinking water or getting a snack.  I continue hiking as I’m taking off my jacket or getting out my gloves.  I’ve yet to meet anyone who doesn’t need a break while on a hike.  This is especially important for me towards the summit, where it’s often cold.  I have Raynaud’s, and if I stop/hike slowly in the cold my body shuts down and I cannot move.  Frostbite comes easy to me even in warm weather (if there’s wind).  I need to keep moving if I want to summit.  This also means I can’t spend a lot of time on the summit enjoying the view (because I’m susceptible to frost bite I get off the summit asap, especially if it’s cold).

There are several peaks I’ve climbed I’m certain I wouldn’t have been able to summit if I’d had a partner, because they would have insisted we’d turn back.  I have a higher risk acceptance rate than most because I have a lot of experience.  No, this doesn’t mean I’m reckless, but I feel prepared to continue on a hike many people wouldn’t. 

I’m more likely to see wild animals (because it’s quieter).  Yes, this is one of the highlights of hiking for me.  I get upset when I see someone with bear bells, because it means I won’t get to see any wildlife either.  

I usually don’t know which peak I’m going to climb, or if I’m hiking at all, until the night before.  This can be difficult for others to work with, and I’d feel bad being the one to constantly change plans.  It also means I’d need to communicate with the other person about details, which isn’t something I particularly like to do (the communication part: details I’m great at).

This all probably makes me sound like an awful person, but in reality, I’m just an introvert that likes to hike solo because it’s intrinsically motivating.  I understand a hiking partner would need to put up with me as well (and I admit I can be difficult).  I don’t actually mind hiking with other people, but we’d need to be a good fit in areas of personality, endurance, etc.  I’ve yet to find someone who is.  I need to find someone with more experience to climb with next summer.  There are several peaks I want to tackle that are difficult class 3’s and class 4’s where it just makes sense safety wise to climb with a partner.  I need to step outside of my comfort zone, which may be more difficult for me than tackling those class 4’s alone.

Back to the purpose of this post:  If people ask me who I’m hiking for I’d like to say SitW or Girl Scouts, but in reality the reason is more selfish:  I’m hiking for me. 

Hiking so many peaks in so little time is probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.  I’ve always loved to hike and mountains/backpacking/camping/etc.  in general, but after becoming a mom at 17 my whole world as I knew it changed.  For the past 20 years I’ve been focused on being the best mom I can be, always putting my kids and their activities first.  But now that two of my kids are driving/working, and all are in either High School or College, I’m noticing they have more of a social life than I do.  Whenever I want to do something with them they’re busy. 

I’m not mad or upset about this. It’s wonderful my kids have jobs, interests, and friends.  I want to encourage them to go to work and school and spend time with their peers.  But I’m finding myself with the ability to go hiking because they’re busy and I’m not.  Note:  I ONLY go hiking when my kids are busy, sleeping, or in school.  I’ve never hiked when I’ve had an opportunity to spend time with them one on one.  This is important to me, and often why I plan hikes last minute. 

So, what are my goals when it comes to summiting Colorado’s 14ers?  They’ve evolved over the past couple of months.  Initially I’d wanted to hike them all by 2023:  the 100th anniversary of the first successful summit of them all.  But as I got to hiking this year I started completing them faster than anticipated.  My goal for this year was to climb 11, but I’ve already made it to 29.  I realize the climbs get more difficult, and I’ve done most of the “easy” ones this year, but I won’t be able to realistically hike another 29 next year.  They just take too much commitment, and I know I’ll fail at a few summits the first time or two, so I’ll need to attempt them multiple times.

Realistically, my goals are to complete all 58 by the time I turn 40 (in 2020).  That gives me exactly 3 more years to successfully summit 29 more peaks. 

Another question I get often:  Why are you hiking them all so fast?  What are you going to do when you hike them all and have none left?

If you’re reading this because you want to do the Mt. Harvard and Mt Columbia combination route my advice to you is to climb them both separately. Unless you have extensive mountaineering and route finding experience and are extremely comfortable not following a trail for miles through a gulley and over a ridge do not attempt this route.

Last week I got some good online advice from Bill.  He suggested I invest in a GPS unit to help me stay on my intended route.  Bill doesn’t know this about me, but I have quite a bit of mountaineering/outdoor survival experience.  I teach outdoor survival skills, and I’m pretty good with a map and compass, not to mention surviving if I do become lost.  (I’d like to note here I’ve never been ‘lost’.  Although I have ventured off route many times I always realize this quickly and find my way back quickly).

In any event, I’m always glad to take the advice of someone with more experience than me, so I went to work researching a GPX viewer (etc.) for use with navigation.  I’ve steered clear of GPS units because I like traditional route finding and feel they’re ‘cheating’, but I agree they are a useful tool.  I found one I liked and downloaded the route GPX files (all 4 of them for the area even though I wasn’t taking all the hikes).  The night before the hike I opened the route I was taking and it looked easy enough to use. I wanted to start getting familiar with the whole process before using it on more challenging hikes.

OK, now to the hike.  The dirt road to the trailhead was easy to navigate, and navigable by any 2WD up to the actual parking lot (which was riddled with medium sized rocks in the dirt road).  The road also indicated with several signs I was on the right route to the “Mt. Harvard and Mt. Columbia Trailhead”.  However, once I reached the trailhead there weren’t any actual signs indicating I was in the right place.  No maps, no signs saying which trailhead this was or which mountains were near.  I don’t know why I expect such information, but it would be useful, especially since alpine hikers arrive in the dark (possible Eagle Scout project(s)?).  Here are the photos of the information provided I took after I was done with my hike. 

See, nothing that indicated Mt. Harvard or Mt. Columbia.  Yes, this info should correlate to my maps, etc., but call me crazy if I like a bright sign saying I’m in the right place before venturing out into the wilderness in the dark. But I digress.

I got out my GPX file, opened it, and was confused.  It placed me about 7 miles from where the trail started.  I knew that couldn’t be right, so I figured I had the wrong file.  Nope.  I eventually figured out the file was wrong.  Even though I downloaded a file that was supposed to be the route from the trailhead up to Mt Harvard, the site had uploaded the wrong file.  No big deal however, as this file indicated the second half of my journey.  I’d just use it when the time came and in the meantime use the maps I’d printed out.  I crossed the stream in the dark and was on my way.

The trail was pretty straightforward and easy to follow for the first 5 miles or so.  Besides being quite muddy in places and the fact the few turn offs I saw didn’t have signage (and I assumed went to Mt Columbia) I was able to find my way easily. 

I crossed a few streams…

I saw some cool mushrooms…

And thistles…

I didn’t even pull out my map (but I had it in my pocket).  I knew as long as I stayed to the left but not so far left I ran into Bear Lake I’d be fine. 

Then I ran into Bear Lake.  Drat!  I must have turned off somewhere without seeing a turn-off. 

So I turned back the way I’d come and found what I hadn’t noticed in the sunlight and mistook for water drainage had actually been   a trail.  It was only about 20 yards out of my way, so no big deal.  Once again, no signs indicating trail forks or names.

Here’s a picture of the beginning climb to Mt. Harvard.  As you can see it passes a large rocky area, but luckily it’s also a very well marked trail with lots of cairns. 

Here’s a picture looking back at Bear Lake and the trail from about halfway up Mt. Harvard.

Please note here THIS is the summit of Mt. Harvard.  It’s not hard to get to, but it was difficult to find as there were many false summits and this one isn’t market (there’s no way to know you’re actually at the summit).  I actually passed it and had to backtrack. 

I took a summit photo and got out my GPS to start on the second half of my route.

Woohoo!  It showed I was exactly where I was supposed to be to make the trek from Mt. Harvard to Mt. Columbia.  Awesome!  Let’s see how this thing works…

Here’s a look at the trail I started following towards Mt. Columbia

And here’s a picture of Mt. Columbia from Mt. Harvard.  Notice where the trail ends?  That’s where it ENDS. Notice Mt. Columbia is about 1.25 miles in the distance?

I had a bunch of directions for this hike, but none of them indicated the trail ended and didn’t start again.  None of them indicated the extent of the route finding I’d need.  But they did have a pretty accurate description of how to navigate this hike.  I followed the directions and was pretty sure I was on the right track. 

I pulled out the GPS and I was right where I was supposed to be.  I took out my pictures of the route and what was before me was what was in my pictures.  I took out my altimeter and was shocked to find I was at 9800 feet.  WHAT?!?!?  I was supposed to be at 12,800!  I know it had been a steep descent, but how did I lose 3000 feet in elevation that quickly (and how was I going to make it up?!?!?)  About 2 seconds later I did a mental check and realized if I was at 9800 feet I’d be below treeline (which I most definitely wasn’t) so something must have been off with the altimeter.  I took a deep breath and looked at the route again.

Then I looked at my watch. This was supposed to be a 15 mile hike.  It was already 11:15 in the afternoon, which meant I’d been hiking for over 6 hours.  I did some mental calculations and got a bit scared.  I wasn’t scared I was lost or that I couldn’t get to where I was going (I could see Mt. Columbia in the distance, so I knew where I was headed, and I was confident I could get back the way I’d come). I was worried this hike was going to take a lot longer than I’d anticipated due to the route finding necessary.  I had to pick my daughter up from band camp at 6pm, and at this rate I wasn’t going to make it in time.  But there was really nothing I could do:  Going back the way I’d come would take longer than going forward.  This was something I hadn’t anticipated but will take into account on future treks.

As I was going over my options in my head I looked up and saw two guys about 500 feet in elevation above me.  I waved to them and booked it up the mountainside to ask them some questions.  We both had the same data.

We had to pass every single section of snow to get to where we needed to be.  Since it’s August and it was in the middle of the day there was postholing involved, which wasn’t fun in the rocky areas.  I have several bruises on my shins to prove it.  And the icy areas were slippery.  Because of this (and the scrambling aspect in many areas) I put my camera in my backpack and focused instead on the task before me, so sorry, no pictures except this before shot.

  We stopped at the ridge about 600 feet in elevation below the summit for a break.

At this point I needed to keep up the pace to get home, so I said goodbye and was on my way.  This part of the hike doesn’t have a trail either, but as long as you stay to the left of the ridge you’ll be fine.

Here’s a look back at Mt. Harvard (the way I’d come)

I summited and there was someone there to take my picture!

I didn’t stay long however.  I opened the GPX file indicating the rest of my route and headed down the mountain.  I could tell by my topo map this was going to be quite a bit of elevation loss in a very short distance.  I was hoping that didn’t mean scree.

It didn’t but it wasn’t fun either.  It was a lot of loose rock mixed with sand, and to combat this, switchbacks. 

No, it wasn’t fun trekking down this path, but it would have been worse hiking UP this trail.  Someone had a very small dog they were trying to hike with.  At this point they were carrying the pooch and heading back down, as the trail was cutting up his paws. 

Once I made it down Mt. Columbia the hike was easy, just long.  I was doing my best to hike as fast as I could to make it back to my truck and in time to pick up my daughter.  I had fun following the GPS the rest of the way but must confess it felt like cheating.  It was just too easy.  I’ll continue to use it though (safety first!).

I’m not averse to hiking the same trail twice (I did Pikes Peak 12 times last summer via the Barr Trail route) but I have no need to ever hike these two peaks again.  Mt. Harvard wasn’t too bad, but Mt. Columbia wasn’t fun at all, and I can only imagine hiking UP the way I hiked down would have been even worse. 

I made it to my truck and when I turned on directions home it said I’d be back by 6:30pm.  OH no!  I needed to pick up my daughter at 6pm.  So I hopped in the truck and did my best to drive as quickly/efficiently/safely as possible to get there on time.  I wasn’t being dangerous or erratic, but I was making good time.  I showed an estimated arrival time of 6:02pm when I got behind a line of drivers stuck behind someone going 45 in a 55 in an area too dangerous to pass.  Not cool!  Feel free to drive at whatever speed you feel comfortable, but if you’re that far below the speed limit and you have a trail of cars behind you PULL OVER.  PLEASE!  You may not be in a hurry, but others might be.  Me in this instance.  I saw my estimated arrival time of 6:02pm go to 6:30pm, mentally cried I’d lost all the time I’d made up, and then got a call from my daughter saying they’d been let out 30 minutes early just as the radio announced the roads were a mess and to expect long delays on side streets as well as the freeway.  Sigh.  So I had someone else take her home and felt like a terrible mom for not being home to do it myself.  Note to self:  don’t plan a long hike when you have somewhere to be later in the day, even if you think you have plenty of time. 

Notes: 

I saw several camp groups with middle schoolers hiking/backing the trails.  The ones towards the beginning of the trail were clean and had bright, happy faces.  I high-fived their counselors, knowing what was in store for them in the next few miles or so.  “Happy trails!”

Horses on trails:  I know they’re allowed, but for the last 4 miles of my hike I saw fresh horse poop every 10 yards or so that hadn’t been there that morning.  In fact, there hadn’t been ANY horse droppings on the trial at all when I’d hiked in the morning, and now it was covered in poop.  I’m not exaggerating:  It was all over the place!  I know horse owners can’t control this, but the sides of the trail were torn up too from horses walking too close to/over/on the sides.  Moss and small plants were strewn all over the trail in many areas.  This is something horse owners can control and is unacceptable.  I was saddened by the destruction this caused.

There was a father with his son (probably 8 years old) on the trail.  They were backpacking and hiking.  I saw them first at the summit of Harvard, and the kid seemed to be thoroughly loving the whole hiking experience.  Rock on dad!