Our afternoon hike of Humboldt the afternoon before gave us the extra benefit of sleeping solidly.  Even though we were car-camping in a popular spot like South Colony Lakes, we heard no disturbances during the night, no one showing up at 2 in the morning and waking everyone else up.  We awoke around 5:30 and were on our way about a quarter after six.  Being the middle of September, it was still a bit dark hiking through the woods.  We had our headlamps on until we broke out of the trees with great views of Crestone Needle and the setting moon.

The day had a bit of chill in it as fall was almost here.  However, September is probably the best all-around month for hiking in the Rockies.  Although the days are a bit shorter, the weather is usually more calm.  The sun isn’t quite as intense as July and August hiking.  September probably offers the best chances for summiting peaks in Colorado
 
We crossed Lower South Lake in a spot that had dried up and eventually found the climbers trail leading up to Broken Hand Pass.  The trail to Broken Hand Pass is at first easy, then crosses a large talus field, then gets considerable steeper.  There’s a good bit of scrambling to get through one narrow section.  After that, it’s steep grass and dirt slopes and suddenly you’re at the top of the pass which has great views down into Cottonwood Lake basin.  From the pass, Crestone Needle looks like a massive leaning rock tower.  The hike over to the Needle is along a well-established and very pleasant trail.  The terrain is really neat here: lots of grass and giant rocky ridges. 

The standard route from this side on the Needle is the South Couloir.  The guidebooks talk about two couloirs and switching between the two but we saw no reason at all to change couloirs.  The main South Couloir will take you to within 20 feet of the summit and isn’t a scary climb at all.  Although the trail leads you around corners and continues on a bit past the couloir, it’s so prominent that it’s almost impossible to miss.  We started up the couloir and stayed in it the entire way.  The difficulty never exceeds 3rd class and the scrambling is very solid.  I don’t recall any serious exposure really (not like we’d been dealing with!).  Strangely enough, however, some of the lethargy was leftover from the hike from yesterday and I found myself struggling near the top.  As we neared the top, the weather seemed to get worse. It was pretty cloudy and wet feeling though no rain had fallen yet.  Rain did appear to be falling over the southern Sangre de Cristo range.  Directly to the west though, the weather appeared fine. 

Finally, on top , we took in the astounding views all around us.  Arriving at the summit and eyeing the traverse suddenly gave me renewed energy and enthusiasm (I’d need it).  We stood on top for a few minutes eating when another pair of climbers arrived as well.  After talking with them for a while and scouting out our route, we headed down.  The climb down to the rappel point is obvious…and one of the scarier sections of the climb.  A thin ridge snakes it’s way north, then east and descends about 50-75 feet to the top of a small gully on the massive north face of the Needle.  Here, we found several slings around a large, solid spur.  As Ken set up the rappel, I spied our route and picked out several prominent rock outcroppings to help guide us as we got down into the maze of steep and rocky couloirs.

The rappel was very long (about 100) feet and went straight off the main ridge. As you rappel, you can look straight down a couple thousand feet to Upper South Colony Lake.  The rappel is surprisingly very easy.  Although it is steep, there are no vertical or overhanging points.  However, I would never downclimb this part without a rope.  It’s very steep, long, and exposed.  If faced with a downclimb, the safest way would probably be the gully leading down from the top of the rappel point.
 
At the bottom of the rappel, we realized there was no turning back and we began the traverse. The most difficult part of the traverse is unquestionably the descent off the Needle.  Once you’re past the largest gendarme beneath Crestone Needle (called the “Black Gendarme” even though it’s not black), the major difficulties are over. Getting off the Needle is a matter of picking the easiest route through a enormously complex series of gullies and cliffs.  Ken and I cliffed out a few times and had to retrace our steps. At one point, we were faced with climbing back up a 4th class section and descending an easier way.  Instead of doing this, we rappelled another section, which was a lot of fun. 
 
The route is impossible to describe.  The best advice to give to others is, when still on top of Crestone Needle, look for very prominent ledges that lead all the way to the south couloir on Crestone Peak.  Be warned that it is very tough to get to them if you don’t have a good sense of routefinding and memorize the landmarks.  When Ken and I were in one of the last remaining gully-crossings, we saw another pair of climbers rappelling.  By the time we emerged out onto the ledges, we saw them again but they were WAY off route on the very steep parts of the north face of the Needle.  After a while, we lost them.
 
Once we were through the major difficulties, we had a great view of the entire route.   Many parts of it, however, were obscured by cliffs and gullies.
 
Although I knew we were on the right route, we did manage to find a few cairns.  We tried to build them up and construct new ones as we hiked along the ledges.

Once we got onto the ledges, we moved pretty quickly. Eventually, we ended up in the south couloir on Crestone Peak.  This couloir leads up to the Red Saddle.  On the opposite side of the Red Saddle, the North Couloir tops out.  The North Couloir is the standard route on Crestone Peak.  The Red Saddle is also the dividing point between the two summits on Crestone Peak, the main summit being to the left or west.  The south couloir on Crestone Peak is considerably looser than that on the Needle but it’s much more stable than the majority of couloirs in Colorado.  Parts of the couloir and the entire top is covered in red rock, hence the name.
 
The scramble to the true summit was very easy and rewarding. Although both peaks were individually easy, the traverse was undoubtedly very difficult but we had succeeded in making it without any real problems. From the top of the summit, we had commanding views of all the nearby peaks. In the valleys to the west, the aspens had begun to change. We signed the register and discovered that we were the only people on the summit this day. After staying on Crestone Peak for maybe an hour, we headed back down the south couloir. Our plan was to go down to Cottonwood Lake and back up over Broken Hand Pass and back to the truck. The North Couloir was reputed to be very loose and, to make matters worse, had snow in it. Besides, I wanted to see Cottonwood Lake. The only trick in downclimbing the south couloir was exiting to the left before the couloir got too cliffy. From here, we had some tricky 3rd class scrambling but we eventually found a trail leading down towards Cottonwood Lake. The terrain around Cottonwood Lake was very pretty…this would be an excellent place to camp.

The hike back over Broken Hand Pass was easy. I still had plenty of energy in me. It felt like I was going backwards; the longer I hiked, the more fresh I felt. Ken didn’t feel the same though…probably because it was his turn to carry the heavy rope! As we were hiking down from Broken Hand Pass we heard voices behind us. It was the other two climbers who had gotten way off route on the traverse. Apparently, they had to climb back up the Needle and back down the standard route or had somehow had to abort and traverse around underneath the backside of the summit. We were well in front of them and didn’t stop to find out (they probably weren’t in the mood for talking about it). It was amazing to think that the whole time we were traversing the two peaks, climbing Crestone Peak, and returning to the truck, they were trying to just get back. They spent a long time up on the Needle, but at least they made it down safely. 

This was our third major 14er traverse of the summer and unquestionably the most difficult one. Looking back, the Maroon Bells traverse was relatively easy. It required two rappels but was very straightforward and short. The Mount Wilson-El Diente traverse was the longest. Although it didn’t require a rope, it had plenty of tricky sections. The Crestones required a rappel and had routefinding that was considerably more difficult than the others. That was the main challenge of this traverse…but we were up to it.

This was our final big hike of the summer.  We knew that if we didn’t tackle this group of 14ers soon, we’d probably have to wait until next year.  Well, Humboldt was the easy one…it’s two neighbors, the Crestones, are very different and can become exponentially more deadly with a coating of slick fall snow.   We headed down to these peaks on Saturday morning (the 16th) with the intent of driving up the grueling 4WD road to South Colony Lakes and then having a leisurely afternoon hike of Humboldt Peak.  On Sunday morning, we’d attempt the traverse between Crestone Needle and Crestone Peak. 

After setting up camp and eating a bit of food, we set out for Humboldt.  The standard trail leads well along the south side of Broken Hand Peak and Crestone Needle then back up to the lake.  There’s a much better and more direct trail that leads out of the parking lot before the stream crossing; it’s a little faint at the beginning but saves a lot of time.  Once getting above lower South Colony Lake, the trail switches back and forth and eventually arrives at the saddle between the the ridge leading to the Bears Playground and Humboldt Peak.  I was expecting Humboldt to be a total pushover since it was only just over 3000 feet of elevation and not that long but I was feeling strangely anemic. 

From the saddle, Humboldt is a straight shot up the ridge. It’s best to stay to the right of the ridge when it gets rockier since the left side is considerably rougher than the right. The higher you go, the more amazing the views are of the Crestones.  From here, we were able to see that the Crestones had already received an early snowfall.  Even though I was enjoying the views thoroughly, I was feeling weaker and slower the higher we went.  What appears to be the summit is actually a false summit.  The true summit lies a couple hundred yards ahead along a neat wide ridge in the sky.  Upon arriving at the summit, I just sat down and held my head in my hands.  I had a bad headache and felt really weak.  These were classic signs of altitude sickness, something that I haven’t had a trace of since my first couple attempts at mountaineering.  I didn’t feel like taking any pictures, eating, or drinking.  Ken had to prod me along to get me to come down, but by the time I was back at the saddle, I felt good again. 

We got back down to the car-campsite and prepared an outstanding hotdog dinner while making final plans for the traverse tomorrow.  I wasn’t too worried about that random visit of altitude sickness and was sure I’d be fine for the Crestones.  We went bed and slept solidly, ken in the back of his XTerra and me in my bivy sack about 30 feet away on a nice smooth grassy spot.

We awoke the following morning refreshed for the Crestones.

For the Mount Wilson – El Diente traverse, we set the alarm at 3:30 am.  I slept great again and had no problems getting up.  We began hiking from the Silver Pick trailhead around 4 am.  We had to use headlamps for about an hour and a half.  Once we were high in Silver Pick basin, we were able to turn them off.  It looked like we were way in front of anyone else this morning.  We arrived at the Rock of Ages saddle just a little after 6am.  We immediately began the 800 foot descent into Navajo basin knowing that we wouldn’t enjoy the hike back over the pass.  On the way down, we passed a creepy old mining cabin and even and old iron mine car.  At the very bottom of the basin, we met two other hikers who were packing up and heading back over the pass to head home.  That had completed the traverse the day before. 

We had spied our route from the day before.  Basically, our route ascended the lower grass slopes that were to the right of the Navajo snowfield.  We would keep going up until we hit the first big snowfield on the left side of the mountain, then begin an ascending traverse to the snow gully.  From there, we’d shoot for a notch that was described in one of the 14er books and then from there over the airy ridge to the summit.  A climber back at the trailhead had told us how scary he thought the ridge was so we were a little apprehensive.  For some reason, I never really assumed Mount Wilson was a very hard peak.  
 
Ascending the lower part of Mount Wilson was really nice.  It’s super solid and there’s lots of ledges and grassy paths.  We did pick some scrambling sections from time to time but this wasn’t necessary at all.  We arrived at the high snowfield and began our ascending traverse.  We passed one small gully, then another, then finally arrived at the gully with the snow in it.  By this time we were a hundred feet or so below the ridge so we climbed to the top of the gully to a prominent notch.  This was not THE official notch though as we realized when we got there.  We took a quick bearing and studied the map and realized that the summit was still to the west of us.  So, we stayed just under the top of the ridge and soon arrived at

You can’t see the summit from here but you do see the ridge that will take you there and it is very airy indeed.  It’s not far at all though.  I was leading so I started out by climbing up to the ridge proper.  Then, I went right over the tip top of the thin ridge.  The exposure over the right (west) side was tremendous and it was really exhilarating although probably a bit too scary for my liking.  Once I was perched up there though, I decided that it would be even harder to turn around, so I kept going.  From this airy aerie, however, I was able to point out to Ken the best way to go which is to stay on the left (east) side of the ridge the whole time.  This side is really exposed too (nothing like the other side) but the moves aren’t that hard.  We soon converged back on the ridge at a much safer section.  I led on and picked another route on the left side.  At this point you have to swing around a large chockstone and then ascend a short little 4th class section that will take you right to the top.  Again, the moves were not hard, but this is one of the more exposed 14ers there are.  Ken thought this was the scariest fourteener that he’d been on to date and we’ve done just about all the hard ones.
 
We stayed on the summit for maybe 30-45 minutes (a short time for us).  The summit is pretty small.  In the picture you can see El Diente in the background.  Our next goal in the day was to arrive at the top of El Diente via the long traverse between the two mountains.  This ridge is reputed to be easier than the Bells Traverse.  We had a rope with us because there was apparently one spot that we could rappel to avoid a downclimb.  We weren’t sure if we would need it.

We climbed back down the ridge.  Consequently, it wasn’t as scary coming down since I didn’t climb straight over the tip top of the ridge.  Back down at the notch, we had another short rest and prepared for the traverse.

From the notch, which you can faintly see in this picture (left base of same ridge), we hiked down a gully and then ascended back up and started the ridge.  The ridge is very tricky from the very beginning.  There’s lots of ups and downs and thin ridges and exposed cliffs.  The climbing switches between class 3 and class 4.  We had a rope with us in anticipation of the rappel tower that was a quarter mile or so from the summit of Mount Wilson.  The scrambling was slow going but eventually we arrived at the rappel point and noticed that it would indeed be easier to downclimb.  So, we backed up a hundred feet or so and found a winding route down to the bottom.  The climbing wasn’t too hard at all.  Along the way, we found and intermediary rappel point.  There were about twenty slings wrapped around the boulder serving as an anchor.  Apparently, no one was trusting anyone else’s sling.

Eventually we arrived at the bottom and hooked back up with the ridge at the saddle beneath the rappel tower.
 
Back on the main part of the ridge, we had a long stretch where we cruised.  We were able to make up a lot of time.  Just over halfway is a large set of towers.  According to the route description, we could easily bypass these by dropping 250 feet down on the left side.  We dropped down 100 feet and picked a fun route that hugged the towers.  The route finding was really fun and this was one of the highlights of the traverse for me.  The route took us on small ledges and over small chasms, on top of large pillar-like rocks we used as stepping columns, and in and out of small, solid couloirs.  We had to scout here and there for the best route but overall, we had no problems at all.  Eventually the climbing relented and we found ourselves at the base of the Organ Pipes gendarmes.  These small towers looked really thin too so we passed them on the left as well.  
 
At this point we were getting really close to El Diente.  I figured that we’d just go straight up to the peak.  However, the trail is deceptive.  It passes over the ridge to the north side of the peak, traverses under the summit above some steep cliffs, then climbs a short gully, and finishes with a short scramble to the small blocky summit.  From here, Mount Wilson looks a long way away.  Overall, I’d rate this traverse more difficult than the Bells traverse.  Though the Bells demanded a rope, this traverse was narrower in places, was a lot longer, and demanded a lot of 4th class scrambling.  The traverse took us just over two hours.

On the summit of El Diente we rested up for the long, steep descent and the hike back over 13,000 foot Rock of Ages saddle and back to the truck.
 
The descent off El Diente was miserable.  It was super steep and loose.  I would not recommend ascending the north face at all…the traverse was a lot more solid and a lot more fun.  In contrast, the climb up Mount Wilson was surprisingly solid and a joy to climb up.  Finally, we made it back down to upper Navajo Basin.  Looking behind us, we saw some really dark clouds.  We began picking up the pace since we didn’t want to be caught in a storm.  We rested one last time, ate some oreos, and drank some water.  The storm seemed to be moving faster; there was now some lightning flashes and thunder somewhere behind Gladstone and Mount Wilson.  We decided to zoom up to the old mining cabin near Rock of Ages and wait there if we had too…and zoom we did.  I’ve never hiked so fast in my life; it took us a mere 10-15 minutes to arrive at the little cabin, which appeared to be haunted.  We rested here for a while and at the last minute decided to zoom over Rock of Ages and back to the truck.  

We made it up and over the saddle in no time at all, however, thunder was now sounding over nearby Wilson Peak.  A couple of hundred feet down from the saddle it began to rain.  We yanked our shells out of our packs and put them on and began going straight down the talus and scree.  The thunder was getting closer.  Then, it started to hail.  Hard.  And then the lightning came.  And the thunder – at the exact same time.  We were caught right in the middle of an absolutely vicious storm.  We had hurled our trekking poles down the mountain like javelins and holed up, so to speak, in a narrow gulley.  We crouched down, being careful to only allow our boots to touch the ground (nearby lightning strikes could conduct through the ground) as the lightning struck all around us.  After the lightning had discharged, we ran down the mountain, grabbing our poles and hurling them again, repeating the process.  After about 30 minutes, the storm abated.  It now looked like a winter storm had moved through.

We got back to the cars to find a nearly vacant parking lot.  The hike from upper Navajo Basin to the truck had been with the aid of adrenalin and, as a result, seemed a lot easier than we were expecting.  It took us maybe an hour and a half to do the whole thing which is a super fast pace.  In so many ways (except for the storm), this weekend had been the best hiking experience to date.

We’d been discussing a climb of the Wilson group for a long time.  We finally planned to climb all three fourteeners there the weekend of August 12th.  We planned to drive out on Friday, climb Wilson Peak on Saturday, climb the Mount Wilson – El Diente traverse on Sunday, and drive back that night.  That’s a pretty ambitious plan, but we felt up to it.

We arrived at the Silver Pick basin trailhead about 30 minutes before dark and easily found a place to car camp.  The parking area looks initially really small, but small roads wind back in the woods with all sorts of camping spots.  Ken slept in the back of his truck on his new air mattress and I lay down on top of two thermarests and slept great – except for the truck that showed up at 2am and the other truck that showed up at 5:15 am and got stuck in a narrow turn around while it’s headlights were beating down on us like the noonday sun.
 
We decided to just go ahead and get up anyway since the alarm was already set for 5:30.  We began hiking around 6:05, 6:10 or so.  Once you emerge out of the trees, the rest of the hiking is among talus and scree so it’s not exactly a scenic or lush approach, however, the road and trail is in great shape.  The road continues past the gate for a while and eventually turns into a trail.  We were able to stay on a trail the whole way up to the Rock of Ages saddle at 13,150 feet.  We were surprised at how easy it was to get to the saddle.  When we looked into Navajo Basin, we realized that we should have brought our camping stuff and just set up camp in the basin after completing Wilson Peak.  Our plan was originally to pack up after Wilson Peak and backpack into Navajo Lake – just a change of scenery.  But when we saw how easy it was, we changed our plans to day hike the traverse from Silver Pick.

Once we made it to the saddle, we traversed along the south side of the peak along a well-established trail.  Then, after just a short time, we arrived at one of the Wilson Peak – Gladstone saddles.  Once we were around the saddle, traversing again on the mountain, we had the view  of the remainder of the route.  Though there’s no one correct way to climb the remainder of the route, the best suggestion is probably to continue traversing and aim for the saddle below the last high point before the summit.  The climbing up to this point was very easy.  There was one little 3rd class section right after the saddle but it wasn’t hard or scary at all.  We continued all the way up to the saddle below the false summit.
 
The remainder of the climb is a lot of fun.  It’s challenging 3rd class scrambling and a good way to finish the mountain.  We passed one party on their way down but we had the entire summit to ourselves for a long time.
 
Between Mount Wilson and El Diente these two mountains is the infamous traverse which we would be attempting the following day.  Overall, this mountain was very easy and a lot of fun.  It was only a 7-mile round trip and about 3600 feet of elevation.  That may sound like a lot, but we had had an intense summer and this was probably the easiest to date…a good warm-up for what lay ahead. 

I left Denver mid morning on Saturday and enjoyed a great drive out to the Elks.  The dirt road to the trailhead is passable to all cars.  It gets a little rough the last couple hundred yards but it’s really no big deal.  The road terminates in a fairly small parking area with views up the Snowmass Creek valley.
 
The beginning of the trail does not start directly up the middle of the valley.  That’s private property so the trail stays fairly high hugging the left hand side of the valley.  It’s about an eight or nine mile trip to Snowmass Lake which is a worthwhile destination itself.  Along the way the trail passes through spectacular pristine wilderness.  About four to five miles into the trip I looked up another valley across Snowmass Creek and saw an impressive waterfall.  Beyond that, I spotted the northern summit of Snowmass Mountain.

A couple of miles more I arrived at the famous Snowmass Creek log jam.  A lot of guidebooks, websites, and word-of-mouth talk describes the log jam crossing as fairly serious.  Well, it’s not; it’s very easy to cross and the logs are wedged in place nicely.  The size of the log jam is impressive though.
 
On the other side of the log jam, I began the final ascent to Snowmass Lake.  The trail first followed the valley a little longer then began switching back as I emerged into a dense pine forest.  A little further up, there’s a labeled trail junction with the right fork heading to Snowmass Lake.  Although I didn’t pass that many people, I was amazed at the amount of people who were day hiking up to the lake.  That’s a 16-mile hike, pretty hefty for one day.

I knew I was getting close because I could see the outline of Hagerman Mountain through the trees.  I passed one very impressive waterfall on my left then hiked a little more and arrived at the base of the lake.  The creek formed another very pretty waterfall right as it left the lake.  The water flowed over a very smooth 30-foot rock which formed a smooth curtain of water.  I began searching for a spot to camp off on the right hand side of the lake.  I found a pretty good spot and set up my bivy sack and had lunch/dinner on the edge of the lake.  After eating I wandered over to the other side of the creek and found even better camping spots.  I ended up moving my campsite to a spot within twenty feet of the waterfall.  I nestled my bivy sack in between large ponderosa pines and a huge fallen tree trunk.  This was the best campsite around!
 
I talked to a few other people before going to bed.  Most were up there just to hike around or to fish.  Of everyone I spoke with (including people along the trail) only one person was planning on climbing Snowmass the following morning.

I turned in fairly early and was content to just relax and listen to the waterfall.  I took the picture as the moon was rising.  I fell asleep pretty quickly and slept great.

The next morning I arose just as the sun was rising and began hiking pretty quickly.  The first part of the hike took me around the lake through a long grove of willows.  The trail began steeply climbing up into the basin where the Snowmass Mountain snowfield was.  Actually, there had been less than average snowfall this year and there wasn’t much left of the permanent snowfield other than hard and icy snow.  I kept on the rocks the entire time.
 
Without the snowfield, this trip is a massive rock hop up to the saddle between Hagerman and Snowmass Mountain.  Hagerman looks quite difficult from this angle.  Snowmass, on the other hand, is pretty easy.  Near the top, the scrambling increases but it’s nothing difficult at all, mostly moderate 3rd class scrambling.  I passed one party who were on their way down (they must have left well before sunrise) but when I arrived at the summit, I was all alone.  I signed the register and took in the great views of the surrounding Elk Mountains. 

I decided to descend straight off the face of Snowmass.  It was pretty steep from the actual summit, so I downclimbed a little bit and then headed straight down.  It was pretty easy for the most part.  It was fairly loose but quite manageable with my trekking poles.  It didn’t take me long at all to arrive at the base and I began rock-hopping my way back down.  Along the way, I passed the only other person that I’d met who was actually planning on climbing the mountain.  I gave him my various opinions on the route then continued on.
 
Back at camp I refreshed myself in the creek.   I spent a fair amount of too sitting on a small island in the creek and enjoying the views.  I began the hike out sometime in early afternoon.

This ended up being a true march.  I passed a few parties on the way down and would stop to talk to them, taking advantage of the rest time.  I met one couple who had spent part of their honeymoon hiking up to Snowmass lake and now, twenty five years later, were making a return trip.  I also passed a group of college guys who were intent on climbing Snowmass the following day so I passed on my various observations on the climb.

By the time I was within a mile of the trailhead my legs were absolutely spent.  Twenty-three miles in one weekend (not to mention 5700 feet of elevation) is pretty rough.  On top of that, this was a very busy summer, so I was by no means walking on fresh legs.  In any event, I made it back to the car exhausted.  I took a lot of time to stretch and relax before I began the long drive back to Denver.

Ken, Dan, Ryan, and I climbed Pyramid the week before this one.  Shortly after that success, Ken suggested that we attempt to traverse the Maroon Bells.  I’d really been wanting to do it and I was surprised that he’d suggested it since he climbed both of the Maroon Bells by their standard route the previous summer.  So, naturally, I responded enthusiastically.  We ended up driving to Aspen on Saturday afternoon under sunny and warm conditions – completely different from the week before.  As usual for Saturdays, the parking lot was jammed so we had to park on the side of the road.  We had found a good camping spot back about 100 yards off the parking lot in May that afforded us good hiding and, because of the weather, we left the tent in the car and decided to sleep out under the stars.  We got up at around 3:15 and were hiking through the darkness at 3:45.  As we walked through the daytime parking lot, we saw several sleeping bags between cars.  It looked like we were the first to begin.   Following the trail with just headlamps was easy – we just hiked where the weeds and foliage wasn’t.  We spotted a deer in the darkness whose eyes reflected back at us eerily.  The dark outlines of Pyramid and the Bells towered over us.  Soon, we were at the large junction where the trail split.  Left continued to Crater Lake, right headed up to Buckskin Pass and to our turnoff onto the climber’s trail that leads up North Maroon. 

Finding the lefthand turnoff was easy.  It was at exactly 10,800 feet and at the beginning of a large open, grassy area.  The trail then dipped down and crossed Minnehaha Creek then wound around through a really rocky area, then straight up through some cliffs.  After we emerged on top of the cliffs, we took our first break just as the sun was starting to peek above the horizon.  At this point, we were looking directly at North Maroon Peak which looked squashed from this angle.  The trail crossed through a large boulderfield and we eyed a small trail contouring south around North Maroon Peak.  We followed that route along steep, grassy slopes.   At this point the trail climbed slowly.  Soon we noticed a large rocky rib or fin coming off the eastern face of the mountain.  Once we got around this fin, we had our first close-up views of South Maroon Peak.  The trail then climbed directly into the mountain on the shadowy south side of the rib, then headed straight up.  At this point, most of the grass disappeared and the climbing transformed into the loose Elk rock.   The climbing was mostly pretty easy.  The crux of the climb was a 20 foot 4th class dihedral that I didn’t think was too difficult; the rock was really solid.

After the dihedral we emerged on the northeast ridge. We followed the ridge almost all the way to the summit.  About 100 feet below the top though, we swung left and scrambled the rest of the way.  We arrived around 8:30, I think.   From here we were able to spy the rest of our route.  The traverse between the two mountains wasn’t far at all but the ridge looked really thin and precipitous in places.  We stayed on top of North Maroon for about 30-40 minutes, then we put on our harnesses and headed down.  We figured our first rappel would come almost immediately off the summit of North Maroon.  After all, from the top of Pyramid, this looked like the most dramatic drop.  It turned out though that we were able to downclimb the entire way.  We beared right (west) and made a few tricky moves, but nothing to extreme.  Soon, we were on the ridge.  As typical for a lot of the routes we find ourselves, we had to do a lot of scouting from side to side to find a way through.   The best way in retrospect for the first part was probably the lefthand side.   At times we were back on the main ridge though.

After a while, about halfway through the traverse, we came to a spot with 1000 foot drops on either side of us and a sheer 30 foot drop in front of us.  I scouted around but couldn’t find any passage.  The only way, it seemed, to downclimb this section was to go back quite a bit and drop way down on the north side.  That would hardly constitute a ridge traverse and we both didn’t want to lose a couple hundred feet of elevation.  Thus, this was our first rappel.   We found no spots for a real anchor so we just threw the rope around a huge boulder.  Ken headed off first with no problems.  Then, I headed down.   When we were both down, Ken started tugging on the rope but it wouldn’t budge.   It seemed like we were going to have our first small crisis by not being able to loose the rope.  We both pulled on it though and it came through, really easily after the first tug.  At this point we were on a really thin section of ridge with another 60-foot drop-off just in front of us.  So, we rappelled again, this time with a sling anchored to a large boulder.  After this rappel, we still hadn’t arrived at the Bell Cord couloir on the east side below South Maroon peak.  We could see the drop-off though and it seemed this would be another point for a rappel.  To our surprise, we picked a fairly easy, albeit 4th class, route down to the Bell Cord and then began our climb up to South Maroon.

The climb to South Maroon peak was more difficult than I was expecting, probably because I had convinced myself in my mind that once the traverse was done, all the difficulties would be over (boy, was I wrong).  Anyway, the climb up to South Maroon follows solid ledges and ridges all the way up.  Just as we were about to summit another party (the first of the day) arrived on top.  They congratulated us as we arrived and Ken and I paused to sign our name in the register.  As we were enjoying the remainder of our lunch, a party of four arrived on top to.  They had also climbed the peak by the standard South Ridge route.  After an hour so, we headed down.  This side of South Maroon Peak is very convoluted so it would be wise to know the route well.  We followed this party down but to our surprise, they got lost and led us down a much more difficult route.  One of the downclimbs was really scary and loose.  These guys seemed like hiking veterans, one of them reported that this was even his 4th attempt on the mountain, and yet they lost the route on the way down.   After we got through the really difficult stuff, Ken and I continued and we were able to get us back on the correct route.  Even the “correct” route is difficult to follow on this mountain.  Finally, we were on the south ridge and after a lot of twisted turns we began the downclimb. 

The downclimb off of South Maroon was not fun at all.  In fact, it was pretty miserable.  It’s a 2500 foot descent from the ridge to the valley floor along steep grassy slopes with scree tossed in.  So, that made for much slipping and staggering.  In the end, our legs were so tired that they were trembling a bit.   We didn’t take any breaks, for just standing was almost as hard work as hiking down.  We just wanted to get down as quickly as possible.  When we were finally down, we found a spot on the trail that was really close to Maroon Creek so we wandered down, pulled off our boots and socks and soaked our feet for a while.  We also washed the dirt off our legs and arms and splashed water in our faces.  This really perked us up.  We hiked the rest of the way out non-stop.  The hike was pretty enjoyable actually.  Crater Lake is really pretty and we had nice views of the Bell Cord couloir and some large waterfalls coming off of North Maroon Peak.

In the end, this turned out to be probably the toughest hike that I’ve done to date.  I really enjoyed the climb up North Maroon, the traverse, and the climb to South Maroon.  I really would have enjoyed glissading the downclimb on South Maroon Peak!

Finally!  We’ve conquered Pyramid Peak.  Ken and I had failed on the same route back on Memorial Day weekend because the ridge was so corniced and dangerous.  I think we might could have climbed the mountain by the northwest ridge but we didn’t even consider it then.  Ken and I arrived in the Maroon Bells parking lot in the late afternoon and set up my tent right next to the car in a downpour!  Dan and Ryan also joined us for this trip, however they didn’t camp in the parking lot and instead elected to get up at 2am and drive out to meet us.  We all met up around 5:45 am.  The weather was overcast but at least it wasn’t raining.  I preferred overcast climbs but a rainstorm would probably turn us around on a difficult peak like this and I certainly didn’t want to fail again.

We began hiking around 6:15am and made quick time up the trail.  We found the turnoff with no problems and had no trouble in following the trail, which was obliterated by snow in May.
 
The trail zig zags around, crosses a short boulder field, then begins an unrelenting, brutally-steep, climb into the amphitheater below the mighty north face of the peak.  I think this is the longest consistently steep trail that I’ve ever been on.  After a little over an hour, we emerged into the amphitheater.  Instead of a nice snow bowl this time, it was a massive, deep pile of rubble and talus.  It’s very time consuming to rock-hop your way through it but we did.  We headed straight for the north face for a long time then headed hard left to begin the long climb up to the northeast ridge.  The climb up to the ridge wasn’t as treacherous as I thought it would be.  Last May, even though we had crampons and our ice axes, it was a lot scarier.  With complete snow meltoff, the climb to the ridge is tedious and loose, but I never felt that it was very dangerous, except from potential rockfall from parties above, and even then it was nominal.  Still, we had our helmets on and indeed there was a group of three in front of us though they didn’t knock anything onto us.  

Ken and I got in front of Ryan and Dan.  This was Ryan’s first fourteener (what an intro!) and he was breathing hard not being accustomed to the altitude.  About three fourths the way up, we cut over to the right to intersect the ridge at it’s lowest point and cut off a bit of hiking.  The main trail just goes straight up to the ridge but there’s no need to go that way.  We discovered the cutoff last May when there was no trail and we just climbed up easiest route on the steep snow.  We waited for Dan and Ryan at the ridge, which looked a lot easier now that the snow had melted and the easier route was now visible.

The first part of the ridge is 3rd class and not too hard at all.  Eventually, while still on the ridge, we came up to a large wall which we thought would be the crux.  However, there’s a prominent notch to squeeze through here and we continued on, this time on the left side of the ridge.  We traversed some more then descended a bit and then were faced with a little dicey cliff to traverse.  The cliff traverse is easy but it does get really narrow (like only a foot wide).  So, if “The Narrows” on Longs Peak freaked you out, don’t even consider a climb of Pyramid.  After traversing the cliff, we continued around the ridge and then were at the “official” crux of the climb -  a long 4th class gully on pale-colored rock.  The other climbers that we’d seen were not too far in front of us at this point.  I started up the section then I heard someone shout “Rock!”.  About a second later, a rock came whizzing down the gully about 20 feet from me.  It was enough to spook me so I came down and waited.  Ken however decided to go on ahead – he was anxious to pass the climbers.  Once he had climbed most the way up, he shouted down that it was ok for the rest of us to follow.  This section isn’t too hard at all really but it’s super dangerous because of the potential rockfall. 

At the top of the 4th class section, we met up with the three other climbers.  We talked for a while and discussed our plans for the remainder of the route.  Dan and Ryan were still working their way up the 4th class section.  We hollered down to Dan and Ryan directions for the most expedient route up then we and the other party headed up.  The other party was in front of us but they soon choose a route that I wasn’t too crazy about.  So Ken and I decided to forge our own route directly up the mountain.  Most of the remaining route finding consisted of scouting from side to side with comments like “Nope, there’s a 500 foot drop here.” and “Can’t go this way – there’s a 1000 foot drop over the north face here.” but we were fast and we picked a perfect route to the top.

Our route was fairly direct from the 4th class section.  It wended straight up the face, then swung right about 100 feet below the summit.  Above the north face we weren’t able to see the other climbers at all.  We had no idea where they had gone.  We climbed ledges above the north face until we finally arrived at the junction between the northeast and northwest ridges which is about 100 horizontal and 15 vertical feet from the true summit!  We triumphantly strolled the remaining ridge to the summit.
 
The other party didn’t arrive on the top until about 45 minutes later!  And that was after Dan and Ryan.  Ryan was super-excited to make it to this summit.  We were all impressed with his resilience and determination to make it to the top.  Dan also commented that this was definitely his hardest fourteener.  This was unquestionably one of the most difficult for Ken and I (although it was to be superceded in difficulty by the Maroon Bells traverse that Ken and I completed the following weekend).

We stayed on top for a long time then began the long and dangerous descent.  The descent reminded me why this is such a dangerous mountain.

I led both parties down the exact same route that Ken and I had climbed up.  For the most part, it was a safe route down.  The rock was fairly solid and we avoided most of the really loose stuff.  However, somewhere above the the 4th class gully, Dan was standing on a large rock that both Ken and I had climbed over.  Ken was below and to the left of Dan and I was about 10 feet below Dan.  Suddenly, without warning, the rock, which was about the size of a large cooler, just popped from under his feet.  Dan started to fall, he managed to catch himself with the help of Ken.  The rock tumbled down right towards me.  I hopped quickly to the left and out of it’s way as it bounded down the gully.  Thank God no one was in the gully then because they would be hard pressed not to be pulverized by shards of the rock as it broke into smaller pieces.  We could smell the flaming friction smell of the rock as it picked up frightening speed and broke into smaller pieces. 

This was a really fun climb, but it is to be taken seriously by all climbers.

Mount of the Holy Cross is the most rugged fourteener in the Sawatch Range.  Still, it’s an easy, albeit long, climb along the north ridge .  But, our route was to be the 1200 foot cross snow couloir that makes the mountain so famous around the world.  Ken and I drove down to the trailhead on the afternoon of Friday, June 30th and discovered that there were already several cars parked.  We were a little worried that we would not find a spot to camp.  We packed up and headed out.  The hike to the campsites leads you over Halfmoon Pass.  It’s not a relatively strenuous hike to the pass and we made good time.  After the pass, you have the view  of Holy Cross.  The trail then descends rapidly for 900 feet into the beautiful valley below.  Once at the bottom of the valley, camping spots were plentiful and we found a great one next to Cross Creek.

During our descent into the valley, we were able to spy a lot of our initial route.  We had to climb south directly up the valley through steep, cliffy, and dense terrain.  We scouted out the trail turnoff before it got dark so we’d know where to go.

We awoke the following morning around 3:30am and began hiking at 4am.  We found the trail turnoff quickly but things were not to go as expected…we lost the trail almost instantaneously.  We had our headlamps but the trail was completely indistinguishable from the rest of the ground.  Because the forest was so dense, there was little undergrowth, so the entire ground appeared brown.  We weaved in and out of other campsites then I finally realized that we’d just have to brute-force our way up to the high lake in front of the Cross Couloir called “The Bowl of Tears”.  So, we got out the map and compass and headed up.  I was actually really pleased with our route and progress.  A few times our way was barred by massive boulders and a few times we ended up walking along cliffs in pitch darkness, but for the most part, we knew where we were the entire time and were able to navigate up to where the terrain thinned out a bit.  We encountered a large boulder field and ended up navigating through a tunnel created by some massive boulders that had fallen together.  This was indeed a genuine tunnel; the roof was completely intact and our voices echoed quite a bit.  The tunnel was only about 30 feet long with a hard left turn in it and we were soon out and on our way again.  Finding our way through the dark, cliffy forest was to be the most challenging part of the day.

Finally, we made it to the Bowl of Tears.  We then headed up the grassy slopes and I eyed a spot that I suspected was the correct entrance to the couloir, for the lower part was blocked by vertical cliffs.  Indeed, this was the right spot so we put our crampons on and started up.  This couloir never got too steep (45 degrees at most, I’d say – definitely requiring crampons) and the snow was moderately soft for kick-stepping.  I do remember, however, that there were no real spots to sit down and rest since the couloir was so deeply inset, so any others reading this should be warned to be well-rested before beginning.  Also, once you start, it’s not very wise to turn around since the longer you’re in the couloir, the longer the sun is melting the snow and making retreat more difficult.  Anyway, after thirty minutes or so we could see what we thought was the top.  Sure enough, this was it!  The couloir ends right below the true summit and we emerged at around 8:30 as the first people on the summit that day.

We ended up staying on the summit for over two hours.  We saw all sorts of people arrive on top, then descend.  We rested up good, ate, took pictures, scouted around the lower parts of the summit, then finally headed down the north ridge route.  The north ridge route is enjoyable and with good views.  The true trail sort of vanishes from time to time because a lot of it is just huge talus fields.  Eventually, we made it back to our tent and mentally prepared ourselves for the 900 foot gain that lay between us and Halfmoon Pass.  It turned out to be not bad at all; we just set a steady pace and stuck to it.  Once at the pass, streams and streams of people passed us, perhaps 75.  Thank goodness we camped on Friday instead of Saturday.  We probably would not have found any place to sleep, let alone our great spot.  When we arrived back at the trailhead, we were amazed to see a hundred cars at the trailhead.  There were cars lined up along the road for maybe a half a mile!  This is obviously a very popular fourteener – for good reasons!