Monday 18 May 2015

An Adventure in the Colorado Rockies - part two - Grays Peak and Mt Evans


The sharp grating noise from the floor of my hire car brought to mind nightmarish words such as excesses and clauses and something about not driving on 4 wheel drive roads. Its significance here was that the Steven's Gulch Road had won this particular battle and that I'd now need to turn around without going over the edge. I managed this with less difficulty than the initial panic might have suggested and soon found myself back at a parking area about half way up the track near to Josephine Mine. Some guidebooks and websites say that you can drive this road in an ordinary vehicle and some say you can't. In the absence of a united front on either side I will say that if you value your car - don't try!

I'd left Interstate 70 at junction 221 for Bakerville back down in the valley and driven up the winding dirt track through the pines, passing a parking area before reaching a section that more resembled a dry river bed than a road - rocks, ruts, the lot! It was this short section that had defeated me and so I set out from the lower car park to walk to the Grays Peak trailhead.

I'd been going only 10 or 15 minutes when I heard a car coming up the track behind me so I instinctively stuck out a thumb in hope. The car turned out to be a jeep and I was soon chatting to 2two guys from one of the New England universities - though I can't remember which one it was - as we drove up to the trailhead. I was pleased to see that even in a Jeep the driver took great care on the part that had caused me problems so at least I hadn't bottled it for no reason.
grays peak trail coloradp
Setting out on the trail to Grays Peak

The trailhead is at a height of about 11200 feet, just on the tree line, and the three of us set off together. The path was obvious and easy to follow, leading up a wide valley towards the snow covered Grays and Torreys Peaks at its head. One of my companions was a sports instructor at the college, specialising in coaching hockey and it soon became apparent that they were somewhat fitter than I was so rather than hold them up; I suggested they carry on and we meet up at the top. They carried on up the trail and I followed at a slightly easier pace - after all, we were at over 11000 feet here! The trail which had risen gently up to now began to climb more steeply as I neared the end of the long wide valley. I headed firstly up steep heathery slopes before veering more to the left over rocky terrain near a shallow col. Heading up and away from the col and leaving the valley's confines, I found myself in a huge stony bowl in the mountainside as the track levelled out a little. The upper walls of this cirque were formed by the high crags and snowfields of Grays and Torreys Peaks still far above. I could just make out ant like figures picking their way across the snow just under the ridgeline. I set off up the trail again after a rest, spotting a lone mountain goat by the side of the track. There were a few people about today, but it's a popular route and the weather was warm and settled, unlike on some of my other walks in Colorado on this trip.
grays peak continental divide trail
Looking roughly west from the summit of Grays Peak

Back to the matter in hand and I continued up the zigzag path as it began cutting through wide snowfields which stretched down the bouldery slopes. I could now see far beyond the valley as the view opened out more the higher I went. Further up and level with the col linking Grays with its neighbour Torreys. Not much air up here - ten steps - stop for a breather - not far now. I was fairly well acclimatised and had no ill effects but here at 14000 feet, my legs would only go at half normal speed.

There ahead were the two guys who'd started the hike with me just below the top which I reached only just after them. Hare and tortoise hey! Perhaps they were fitter than me but maybe not as used to the altitude as I'd thought.The summit of Grays Peak at 14270 feet or 4349m is the highest point on the Continental Divide or main ridge of the Rocky Mountains and the view is befitting for such a place. Beyond thefar off plains of South Park rose the even more distant lone summit of Pikes Peak. Moving round to the west, passing the long snowy line of peaks topped by Mt Elbert, the highest in
grays peak colorado rockies
At 14270 feet Grays is the highest point of the Continental Divide
the Rockies at 4399m, Lake Dillon where I'd been staying for the past few days came in to view beyond the continuing divide ridge. To the North, lay great forests with the Indian Peaks heading up towards Rocky Mountain National Park while east of us and closer to hand was the Mt Evans range. We were surrounded by a sea of summits, all seemingly below. Only Torreys Peak seemed to approach our height, its snowy flanks leading the eye down to the valley where the Interstate crossed the Rockies at the Eisenhower Tunnel far below...

My last couple of days in Colorado saw me back at Idaho Springs where I'd started. The town was handy for my drive to Denver airport to fly home while still being surrounded by magnificent forest and mountain scenery. Just to the south of the town lies Mount Evans, one of the Rockies' highest peaks and home of the highest paved road in North America. Yes - even higher than Pikes Peak.

I'd driven part way up on the way back and had had an afternoon walk from the parking at the top of the Goliath Trail over open tundra to the summit of Rogers Peak at 13391 ft. It was a lonely summit of stones rising above the short tundra grass and was reached by a three mile round trip from the
mt evans view from rogers peak
Mt Evans in better weather seen from Rogers Peak
road. The weather was clear and views had extended far out across the plains towards Kansas as well as along the Front Range (the eastern rim of the Rockies) north towards Longs Peak in the National Park. Today though, the weather wasn't quite so promising with storms forecast for later and as I left town by highway 103, the Squaw Pass Road, I decided to alter plans to be off the mountain before the bad weather arrived. I'd planned to go to Echo Lake at 10600 ft and one of the nicest spots in the area to hike up the Chicago Lakes Trail to Summit Lake at 12800 feet before ascending the peak but after stopping at Echo Lake decided to head on. I'd drive to Summit Lake and go up from there. It is still a recognised ascent unlike driving to the top of the road and walking the last quarter mile to the summit which is cheating! It was a shame about the weather as Chicago Lakes looked a good route - it was a full day up and down though.
on the mt evans road
The realities of the weather setting out from Summit Lake

The mountain could be seen through the pines, partly obscured by cloud as I left the lake and the morning sun broke through higher up the road though huge clouds boiled up over the plains to the east. Well above the timberline at Summit Lake it was cold and breezy. That morning the summit temperature had been 10 Fahrenheit or minus 12 Celsius and that was less than 1500 feet above now.

Donning coat, hat and gloves I set off. The usual route goes nearly straight up the steep slope to the summit car park but huge snowdrifts by the roadside made this rather awkward so I followed the road itself up until just before the first bend where I set off up the steep mountainside to my right. Only one car had passed me on my walk up the road - a truck loaded with bikes. I managed however, to avoid walking on the road again as I made my way steadily upwards finding the going easier than expected - I must have been properly acclimatised by now. OK I wasn't about to sprint up the slope but at least I could keep a steady pace and not stop for a rest every 2 minutes.
ruined observatory on mt evans
The ruins of the observatory on Mt Evans

Mt Bierstadt – another fourteener - appeared level with me across a deep wild valley. The cloud continued to build ominously and the Sun had vanished behind a high grey layer but it remained fine on Mt Evans if chilly - the ground frozen iron hard by the wind. Crossing an area of shattered grey rocks and a small snowfield I presently arrived at the summit car park and walked past the ruined Summit Hotel - never rebuilt after a destructive fire - and the grey hump of the observatory. I remembered meeting this guy who'd had his wedding reception at this hotel when it was still open, only to have to reconvene back down in Idaho Springs when half of the guests passed out from altitude sickness!

The road is a feat of engineering but I'm not sure I like the idea of driving up to places like this. It must be awful on a busy day with traffic jams and crowds - exactly the things many of us come up to
on top of mt evans colorado rockies
The summit of Mt Evans at 14264 ft
avoid to say nothing of the danger of ascending quickly to 14000 feet. Today though there were no crowds, just the one truck and some very cold looking cyclists preparing for an even colder descent. Their driver informed me that I was the only one to climb Mt Evans that day.

Onwards up a shallow bank of snow on the far side of the car park and a stony trail led me in 5 or 10 minutes to the summit rocks. As I scrambled up a pair of eyes belonging to a brown furry face stared at me before vacating the highest rock and disappearing under another nearby. At 14264 feet I'd almost certainly just met America's Highest Marmot! The
mt evans colorado fourteeners
It was time to go before the weather got any worse
approaching weather made the view dramatic if not distant and after taking a few photos I too left this cold and lofty place to the marmots and the rising wind...

If you missed part one it's right here

Friday 15 May 2015

An Adventure in the Colorado Rockies - part one - Maroon Lake and Quandary Peak

There is something rather surreal about sitting at breakfast and watching people dressed in breathing masks and carrying cylinders of oxygen as they butter their slices of toast and pour their coffee as though they are about to set out for Everest. My hotel by Colorado's Lake Dillon though is at 9100 feet above sea level which is twice the height of Ben Nevis or about level with Eigerwand Station on the Jungfrau and a fair height to arrive at by car without the benefit of any exercise on the way up. After these men in masks came the raiders - those who had already had breakfast but had returned with doggie bags to fill with more food for the day ahead. If it's free why not I thought - and picked up a banana and a couple of apples for later.

That day - which had dawned fine - I was bound for Glenwood Canyon which I'd been told was well worth seeing and much nearer than the Grand Canyon which would have taken a full day just to get to. Distances in America are in a different league to those back home with a hundred mile trip being "just down the road" and I knew that if I set off down Interstate70 I wasn't going to be sat in traffic jams for half the distance. I also planned - if time permitted to see the Maroon Bells - two spectacular mountains of just over 14000 feet which are close to the ski resort of Aspen some distance to the West of here.

Setting out I journeyed out of Dillon along I-70 soon rounding the jagged ridge that lay to the West in the views from the lake. Its far side was a spectacular rocky wall at least 3000 feet in height that towered up behind as the road began a steady descent towards the valley of the Colorado River. The interstate is not the best way to see the country I thought as I bypassed Vail - that famous resort a huddle of rooftops below vast wooded mountains - but I'd never get to the Maroon Bells today if I followed the minor roads.

After Vail - which is at about 7000 feet - the road descended further towards the summer heat of the distant deserts as the landscape began to change again with rocky slopes rising above roadside scrub which had replaced the verdant pinewoods. The cliffs and crags became higher - or rather the road got lower - and soon the raging waters of the Colorado River was just below on my left. Above, the walls towered up for perhaps 2000 feet to where lines of rocky ridges and spires made up the skyline. Stopping at the next pull in I got out for a proper look and was immediately hit by the waves of heat as the sun reflected off the surrounding rock walls. The 100 degrees or about 38 Celsius down here was - once I'd walked around a bit - much more bearable than 80 degrees in the UK due to the very low humidity and after a short wander I didn't mind it. I would not have fancied a long walk or a climb though!

Glenwood Canyon - along with the Grand Canyon further downstream - was formed by the Colorado River as it flows towards the Pacific and while not on the same scale as the Grand Canyon it is spectacular nonetheless. At Glenwood you get a different view from the road as it follows the bottom of the gorge close to the river while at the Grand Canyon the road approaches the rim and you look down 5000 feet to the river. Here people were kayaking in the thundering waters of the Colorado - there was a lot of snow melting higher up and the levels were high despite the dry hot conditions down here.

After a drink of water I set off again and soon left the canyon walls behind to travel across a wide valley bounded by much lower rock walls. The landscape was definitely of The West and the place names of Rifle and No Name Creek were straight out of the old cowboy movies. A little further towards the Nevada Desert I stopped for lunch at a seemingly deserted sun baked town with the unusual name of Parachute.

I went into a Mexican restaurant through swinging saloon type doors where I ordered chilli and beans (I just had to!) from the waitress. One wall was decorated with pictures of John Wayne and this whole place could have been a set from one of his films. I was just starting on my lunch when in walked none other than four or five cowboys. Not actors but real cowboys - that's what they did for a living. Now these guys hadn't left their horses outside - they travel by jeep now - but they could have walked straight off the film set depicted on the wall. The township of Parachute was not originally a Wild West town as appearances would suggest but was actually built when oil was discovered nearby. Today though the oil men have gone and it is ranching that is the main activity here.
maroon lake and maroon bells at aspen
The Maroon Bells from Maroon Lake near Aspen Colorado

After driving for some distance back up into the hillier country south of the river I was approaching the illustrious ski resort of Aspen in dire need of coffee. I don't usually drink a vast amount of the stuff but - perhaps because of the long drive - I wanted a cup now so pulled in at the first place I saw. The Inn at Aspen looked the sort of place that would cost per night what I'd been paying a week but needs must I thought - I'm sure I can afford a cup of coffee here! Enquiring at the desk I took the opportunity to ask for some directions at the same time. The friendly guy on reception cheerfully informed me the way to the Maroon Bells - I hadn't far to go at all adding “Coffee’s over there - help yourself." This of course was America - and not Big City America - where you do occasionally get something for nothing! In the UK they'd have probably wanted a fiver for a brew in a place like this but not here. I got talking to an English couple who were staying here who said the hotel was excellent and was surprisingly good value. They had been touring around the western US for over a month now and were really enjoying it. Apparently there aren't many English who visit Colorado – apparently we prefer New York and Florida.
the crater lake trail by maroon lake
The trail rises above Maroon Lake amid spectacular scenery

Contemplating how different the genteel but comfortable Inn at Aspen was to the wild west town I'd left behind in the desert I set off to find the Maroon Bells. The view up the valley from the Maroon Creek Road leading up from Aspen confirmed any preconceived ideas I might have had about the Rockies. The aspen and spruce groves clinging to the steep hillsides were overhung by towering cliffs of reddish rock, the sloping stratified layers clearly visible. At the end of this narrow defile stood 2 shapely snow-capped peaks, their sharp summits scraping the drifting cloud overhead.

The view was strangely familiar, even though it was my first time in this valley. The Maroon Bells rising to 14156 feet at South Peak and 14014 feet at North Peak are some of America's most photographed mountains - and for very good reason - the view up this valley is one of the best anywhere. It was late afternoon and even if I'd arrived earlier, the idea wasn't to climb either of the 2 peaks on my own. South Maroon Peak is supposed to be slightly easier, but it's not a walking route and in addition, the rocks can be loose and hazardous. No - I'd just driven a long way and was in need of some fresh air.

I left the car park and followed the marked trail along the right hand side of Maroon Lake - the view of 'The Bells' is best from the end of here - before the trail headed up to the right above the lake and disappeared into the woods, following the slope towards the top of the valley. On the opposite shore, stony slopes scattered with trees rose at a dizzy angle from the water and another trail followed below to reach the far end of the lake below a waterfall. The route I took climbed steadily higher, mainly in amongst the trees to reach a bouldery region, the scene of an ancient landslide. Here it climbed steeply to the left, avoiding the roughest parts.
Maroon bells from the Crater Lake trail
Closer to the Maroon Bells as the trail approaches Crater Lake

I'd seen no-one since leaving the immediate area of the lake and as the country became increasingly remote, I got to thinking about the bears and mountain lions which were known to inhabit some of the best bits of Colorado. I know that attacks on humans are rare but there's something a little unnerving about walking alone in a forest knowing that you may be being watched by something capable of eating you! A sudden noise from behind some spruce trees made me stop suddenly but no black bear or mountain lion came charging angrily from the shadows. It was probably just a bird. On I went and presently the ground levelled out and the view opened up again, revealing the Maroon Bells now much closer, towering directly above, the snow clinging to their upper ledges. My mind taken off carnivorous forest dwellers, I spotted the path leading off up to the right. This led to the Buckskin Pass and looked tempting but it would be dark in a couple of hours so not today!

I carried on again and in 10 minutes came to a remote mountain lake called Crater Lake, set in a wild rocky valley. I walked to the far end along a shoreline of clear water before stopping for a snack and to take another photo. The path I was on could be seen heading further up the valley following the river - West Maroon Creek - beyond the lake. This particular path goes for several miles before climbing the high West Maroon Pass though that too would be one to come back and do another time.
crater lake aspen colorado
Looking back along Crater Lake from near the end of the trail

As I set off back down the trail towards Maroon Lake the evening light was fading and spots of rain had begun to fall from a greying sky. As I approached the landslide site there was a barely audible rustle in the undergrowth ahead and a large silent shape emerged from behind a tree just few yards in front. The creature was a greyish brown and about the size of a large dog with pointed ears and a long snout which it kept low towards the ground. It trotted slowly across the path giving me a surprised sideways glance before disappearing back into the undergrowth across the path. My initial thought was “wolf" but though I later found out that wolves had been re introduced to parts of Colorado, I'm 99 per cent sure that this was a coyote I had just seen.

Without further incident I followed the trail back along the lonely shore of Maroon Lake to my car. It had been a privilege to see the coyote at close quarters as they are very secretive animals. The other surprise sighting was right by the roadside below the Berthoud Pass to the North a few days before - a moose had appeared from the trees and surveyed the road for a minute or two before returning to the shelter of the woods. These are a large animal of the deer family with odd elongated faces that will be familiar to anyone who watched Northern Exposure a few years ago.

This short route is called the Crater Lake Trail and is outlined in the Forest Service leaflets for the area. As for me I was contemplating my next day’s walk which was rather longer - the ascent of Quandary Peak, one of the so called Colorado Fourteeners which is the name given to the mountains of the Colorado Rockies over 14000 feet in height. At 14264 feet or 4347 metres it would be my highest peak to date and something of an adventure to say the least...

The Following Day:

The deer and fawn stood in the roadside clearing a couple of yards from the line of the forest and about 10 yards from where I sat. The morning sun shone on their glossy coats as they took turns grazing the long grass and checking around for possible threats. They were quite aware of me and seemed happy with my presence so I was somewhat disconcerted when they simultaneously stood bolt upright in alarm and looked into the woods directly behind the rock on which I sat. I followed their gaze into the dark pines, and seeing nothing but shadows, turned back to the deer – they had vanished – a panic sprint into the forest. Something had scared them off – possibly even a bear or mountain lion. The only thing was, my route led into the woods exactly where whatever had scared the deer had been!
trail to quandary peak colorado
The lower part of the trail just above the timber line

Putting aside thoughts of black bears and of pumas and cougars – which one was it that lived around here now – I headed off up the deserted trail into the forest. Attacks on humans by bears or mountain lions are extremely rare in Colorado though it’s healthy respect to be aware of their presence. Little did I know however that later that morning I would face mortal danger from a completely different source. The trail led me steadily upwards through the deep greens  of the pinewoods, occasional shafts of sunlight bringing colour to the forest floor and I began to enjoy the walk despite being conscious of the fact that I wasn’t keen to meet whatever had scared the deer. I met no large predators however and presently emerged into the bright sunshine of a clearing in the forest which was followed by another and in a few more minutes, the timberline itself.

Surmounting a small rise revealed an expansive vista of snow capped mountains surrounding the head of the valley to my left while straight ahead rose Quandary Peak – an icy sentinel shining in the morning sun. I was surprised to see a young hiker approaching – he must have been out early to be descending at this hour – we had a brief conversation during which I asked him whether I’d need an ice axe or not. Producing a sharp looking piece of stone from a pocket, his advice was to “find a decent rock.” I was impressed by his resourcefulness at using the rock instead of buying expensive kit. I have since made safe the descent of an icy slope in Wales with a well found rock having forgotten my axe. Stone Age technology indeed – but it worked!
the ridge climing to quandary peak
The ridge climbed ahead towards the summit

I continued my ascent as the trail climbed across a steep slope of grass and heather above a typical Alpine valley to my left. The Weather Channel had mentioned that thunderstorms were to be expected later so I made the ascent as quickly as I could manage on the heavily rationed oxygen and an hour’s hard labour saw me crossing a wide stony plateau at about 13000 feet. The summit rose steeply ahead and keeping to the left of the ridge close to the drop off to the valley, I began the ascent of the snow. Thanks to the snow - which were ideal for kicking steps in – neither crampons nor for that matter Stone Age axes were needed for the ascent which became steeper as I climbed. The weather still appeared reasonably settled though there was more cloud now over the Mosquito Ranges to my right. Finally, and with the effort of a marathon runner completing that tortuous lap of the track that comes just after running the 26 miles and just before collapsing on the ground, I reached the summit of my first ‘fourteener.’
pete buckley on quandary peak colorado
I made it to the summit and there was someone to take my photo!

Surprised to see other people up here, we took photos of the fast disappearing view before deciding to head down as the weather seemed to be going downhill as fast as we should have been! Large dry snowballs began to fall – each one looking like a giant hailstone but being composed of light powdery snow while a still grey mist surrounded us and the air prickled with static electricity. We descended the slope quickly as the air became filled with an eerie sound.

I knew that sound – it was the noise power lines made on a damp day. It was the sound of electricity making its unstoppable way to Earth. Earth in this case was us atop a 14000 foot high, fairly isolated mountain, and the power source, a building storm with the energy of a thermonuclear bomb.  The brim of my hat began to fizz and crackle and the faint blue glow of St Elmo’s fire lit the mist. Removing my hat caused my hair to stand on end and I was now getting electric shocks through my fingertips. I replaced my hat and the fizzing sound grew steadily in pitch. Having visions of a flash of blue light that would reunite me with God somewhat prematurely, I dived onto the snowfield, shouting to my companions to follow, and slid penguin style for a short way down the slope. Though water and electricity are generally considered a bad combination, I somehow knew that snow was a bad conductor.
mosquito range from quandary peak colorado
Looking over the Mosquito Range from the summit

Few words were spoken as the 4 of us made our way as quickly as possible down the snow slope. The static seemed to reduce as we got lower. As thunder began to rumble over the Mosquito Range, I followed the guy in front and removing a plastic bin liner from my rucksack, sat down on it on the snow and proceeded to slide down the mountain. Not perhaps the most stylish descent I’ve ever made but preferable to finding out what life is like as a fried chicken!

The storm didn’t reach us right away but as we returned to the forest, the Rockies echoed to the sound of thunder and all thought of marauding bears and mountain lions was gone, as the safety of the forest was reached. Such had been the nature of our descent that we’d not been able to make each other’s acquaintance properly. All I knew was that the guy of about my own age was from Denver and had a cabin somewhere near here, and that the younger boy and girl were from the neighboring state of
quandary peak in the rocky mountains colorado
Quandary from the trailhead after the ascent
Kansas. We bade our farewells at the trailhead and I continued my way back to Lake Dillon where I was staying. Later that afternoon, I was treated to a spectacular natural firework display over the lake which I watched from the beach, thoughtfully retreating to the safety of my room as the storm approached closer...

the second part of the journey is right here