#4passloop

In a summer of big adventures, Monday’s was the best one yet.

I took off from the overnight parking lot at Maroon Lake in Aspen at 6:45 a.m. for a run on the Four Pass Loop (a long loop through and over four passes near 12,500 feet).

I didn’t have much in-person info from friends who’ve run it so I relied on research. Sort of by default and from knowing the initial route from a month ago when I ran Maroon Peak (using the same approach), I luckily went in the clockwise direction. “Lucky” is a relative descriptor but I believe on top of the final pass, Buckskin, (and with the fatigue of 22 miles in your legs), you’re rewarded with the best views of the entire route (instead of getting them right at the beginning as your first pass).

In the morning and after I set off I wanted to run the full loop - 27 miles - in six hours. As I settled into the climb onto West Maroon Pass (1), this felt doable. The approach is technical but not unrunnable until the final 3/4 of a mile to the summit. I passed a couple of Forest Service rangers on the approach and had a good chat.

The wind was whipping and cold on top and my knee caps froze quickly. I put on my shell and Buff. The descent to the valley below was steep and fast and I still entertained my six hour goal.

At this point I passed a fourth backpacking party coming the opposite direction. As the day would prove, it seems like many people choose the CCW direction.

The next ascent came quickly. Wild flowers were in full bloom around me and it was awesome to be out running and enjoying an early morning in the mountains. Even when running 14’ers, I rarely start my day before 8 a.m.

I was following trail directions from the Forest Service in a PDF I stored on my phone, supplemented with the few but always-reliable trail markers and posts.

Taking in the valley and surrounding mountains between Maroon Pass and Frigid Air (pass two), I was surprised to see so many established singletrack trails in many directions. I assumed the Four Pass Loop trails would have been the only prominent ones.

Frigid Air was a very abrupt and steep climb from mile 7.5 to 9 (top of the pass). I ran into a shirtless guy in camo pants laying on the summit, bow strapped to his pack. We chatted and he was the first, of a couple other folks I talked to, who were backpacking from a trail near Gothic road in Crested Butte. He remarked at the distance I was to cover when I told him my plan. At this point, like much of the day in fact, my mood and enthusiasm was really high. I had a lot of food and water and sports drink in my pack and felt totally equipped for the mileage.

The descent of Frigid Air was as steep as the approach from the other side. As I reached the valley again, nostalgia for last summer’s run on the Mont Blanc trail came on. The Four Pass Loop shares many of the signatures of the Mont Blanc trail: steep ascents that rise from the valley floor, technical descents that are just as unforgiving, and picture-perfect alpine scenes. Funny how it was a year ago exactly I was in Chamonix and going around MB.

I had enough food and drinks but I wasn’t exactly using them to this point. After running quickly through the valley toward the next pass, Trail Rider (pass three), and crossing a knee-high creek, my energy was dwindling. I finally reached for a bottle of GU and had nearly half of it in one gulp. As much as I was ready for some food, I didn’t want to break until the top of Trail Rider. I slogged and was really only hiking the steepest sections of trail on this approach. I covered less than two miles in that hour and felt my six-hour prediction becoming out of reach.

I got to the top of what I thought was Trail Rider Pass, sat on the ground and ate a sandwich, a Snickers, and some Haribo gummies. I also, thankfully, packed a Solio charger for my Suunto so I charged the watch for a bit while I rested. I rescanned the trail description notes and, although there was a fairly big pond right below where I sat, the guide said Snowmass Lake was in view from the summit of Trail Rider.

I could see a distinct trail snaking its up to what was clearly another pass but I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking at or if indeed the trail I was supposed to take was that one.

That anxiety was quelled within about five minutes from my rest-stop descent, when the only trail to take was the snaking one going right back up.

With sugar in my system, it was cool to notice that the climb was runable (where just a bit ago I was hiking the trail with a similar grade); I turned left for a moment and saw a guy hiking up the scree just off the defined trail. He was moving quickly and headed for the same summit I was approaching.

Turns out I was premature in thinking my rest stop was Trail Rider; this was clearly it. And there, down below shimmering aqua blue, was Snowmass lake. It was totally stunning while the surrounding peaks (including what the hiker had just summited, Hagerman, a tall 13’er, towered over the lake).

I stayed on top of Trail Rider to take more pictures while he moved down the descent. I caught up to him with some effort, passed, and then continued hopping on and off the trail to grab more pictures of Snowmass lake.

By now, even with food and water in my gut, I was starting to get pretty fatigued. There was 10 miles to go and my spirit was waning a little. The game I was constantly playing of Buff-on, Buff-off, GORE jacket-on, GORE jacket-off, was irritating but there were such temperature discrepancies as you can imagine from the passes summits to the valleys below, you had to be continually changing clothes.

When the descent off of Trail Rider fully came to end, the first glimpses of the Maroon Bells came into view, along with, the devastatingly far-looking, Buckskin Pass (pass four).

The beauty of it all though was morale boosting.

I cruised through the valley fairly well and then started another ascent for Buckskin, the final pass of the day.

I moved well in spots and poorly in others. I was popping Haribos as this point like it was my job (hey, it was my job for the day…it was also the “Labor” day holiday, incidentally).

I came up on a group of backpackers going my direction and passed them easily as Buckskin, and several people already on top, became increasingly closer (and at this point I was running again solidly which I counted as minor victory).

In full view came the summit and I soon stood on it, making small talk with one of the straggling backpackers’ friend. Good dude and we exchanged stories and photos (they were on day three of the loop). We compared distances as this point and figured out that there was about five miles to go (this turned out to be dead-on).

The descent on Buckskin was enormous and continually interrupted by more stops for photos. By now, Pyramid Peak faced directly at me and Maroon Peak, with its tremble-causing massiveness, just behind to the right.

This was a tricky, technical descent; steep with a lot of pointy, jutting rocks. Crater Lake was coming into view and I knew I was nearly home free. I was tired at this point and trying not to fall or be too grumpy at the many backpackers I was passing.

Finally, I passed the lake and having been on West Maroon Trail several times now, knew roughly how much more I had to go. This brain-drain of a descent is full of tourists and sharp rocks. Getting to Maroon Lake was fantastic and true to predicted, I was inching closer to 27 miles. I got to my car at 26.82 so I threw my backpack down and jogged around the parking lot to get an even 27.

The total run time was 6 hours 43 minutes but at that point I was deeply satisfied with completing one of Colorado’s (heck, the country’s) finest alpine loops and a trip I had been pining over a lot lately.

This was my biggest run of the summer but with each of the passes topping out at or below 12,500 feet and the amount of time I’ve spent running to 14,000+, I felt a lot of physical (and probably mental) energy was banked over the course of the day.

14’ers, even the most runnable ones, still tend to put me in real fatigue. I kept thinking back to the day on the Mont Blanc trail where I ran something like 28 or 29 miles (the longest of my life) from Contamines to Rifugio Elisabetta (on the Italian border) where I slept (and didn’t bring enough money to pay for it! That’s another story…). That was a day that covered very similar terrain (tons of vertical and descents) and length.

Mentally I knew I could run the full Four Pass Loop and I loved using the mental reserves and confidence of doing a run with a very similar profile (albeit different continent) to reference. Wonderful day in the mountains.