When my hiking friends had other things to do this weekend, I figured I’d take advantage and climb a fourteener that still remained on my list.  Ken and Kirk had done this peak last year and I, in turn, had missed out.  However, solo hikes themselves are very rewarding sometimes so I was really looking forward to this trip.  Of course, being a fourteener, I wouldn’t truly be alone.  There would certainly be other hikers and climbers up here.  The one thing about this trip that I was a little apprehensive about was the length:  approximately 23 miles round trip.  Ouch.

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.

Northeast Ridge of North Maroon, connecting ridge to South Maroon Peak

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!

Northeast Ridge route

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.

via Holy Cross couloir and down the North Ridge

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!