Date Climbed: 9/7/14
Climbing Partner: Salix (my dog)
Elevation: 14,197 and 14, 14,153 respectively
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Daniel Weiss
*Let me begin by saying it's been a very long time since I did this climb, so unfortunately some details may be missed (such as times and other small details). However, this was one of my more exciting climbs (due to unforeseen circumstances) and so it is very much etched in my memory. Although I wish I had put my climbs in order so as to build upon them more cohesively, I am not paid to do this, so it takes a back seat to my daily life. Anyway, please enjoy!
I had gotten no sleep the night before. I knew better, as I had learned on past climbs that a good nights sleep is key, especially if you plan on climbing three difficult fourteeners in one day. But it was like the day before you go to Disney World as a kid; you're too excited to sleep! That and I am an imsoniac, so I go to bed very late as it is, along with a 2 AM wake up time. Whatever the case, I was up, and the drive was one of the spookiest scenes I had ever scene. On the way from Denver to Leadville, one goes over a very high pass on CO 91, and passes a mining camp or electric grid of some kind. On this particular morning, the clouds were very low, adding and eerie fog to everything I passed. With steep drops on either side and no one else on the road, I was scared of either falling off the edge of a cliff or hitting a deer. As I passed the mining camp, the spotlights were on, but they were covered in a heavy fog, so it made the camp look abandoned, almost like something you would see in a horror film. Other than that, the drive passed without incident. The sky was just turning a deep blue when I finally pulled up to the trailhead about 10 miles down the washboard dirt road. that leads deep into the heart of the Collegiate Peaks. I was not the only one; there were numerous cars already there, and a group already starting up the trail, and more pulling up. I got Salix out of the truck, loaded on her pack and mine, and we began up the trail at a brisk pace to stay ahead of the "crowds" (probably no more than 20 people if that the whole day).
It was around 5 AM when we started. I had been warned in my research that these 14ers were considered difficult and had a very steep incline for the first 2000 feet, also known as the Death March by some. Keep in mind, a good mountaineers pace is 1000 feet an hour, and thus it would take us two hours just to reach the beautiful Missouri Gulch. With Salix for encouragement ahead of me and the crowds behind, however, we made it to timberline in just over one hour. At least I had good energy and speed this time around. It was very difficult, however, and is not something to be taken lightly, especially with three fourteeners and very steep inclines on the agenda.
The reward, however, was well worth it. Missouri Gulch is still one of the most beautiful vistas I have yet seen. It is so beautiful, in fact, that I intend to bring my own youth group on a hike up the trail just to see this picturesque valley. Once I got into the gulch, directly ahead lay Missouri Mountain, an intimidating site with its jagged slopes and to the left are were the slopes of Pecks Peak (Although at the time I thought it was the slopes of Oxford. This was a huge mistake on my part that I would later regret). After taking a few pictures, I talked to a friendly group of young adults who told me they were headed for Missouri Mountain. I told them I intended to climb it as well, but I would do it after I had done Oxford and Belford. In retrospect, I probably should have joined them for safety reasons, but I'm an adventurer at heart, and I love to face challenges solo, just to test myself. We exchanged names and went our separate ways, wishing luck. I began the ascent up Belford, imagining I would be at the top in quick order. I thought I could see the summit already, and so thought it would not take very long.
Oh, how wrong I was. About a third of the way up, I had to stop and eat breakfast, so I sat down and munched on a granola bar and gave Salix some water and a bite of my food for energy. We sat for about twenty minutes, recovering our strength from the slog up the first part of the trail. Since I had hit the trail so early, and with a straightforward climb ahead of me, I figured I would take my time and save energy for Missouri Mountain, which I knew would be much more difficult than these two, especially as I would have to lose almost 3000 feet and regain it on the trip between Belford and Missouri.
After our break, we began our relentless march up the slopes once again. It was tough going. The slope was much steeper than had been described, and so the going was much slower than I anticipated, but it was not much longer before we reached the top. It was just at that moment that the sun was just coming up over the mountain to shine on my face. Up to that point, it was very cold, and the only things keeping me warm were my exertions and light fleece jacket. The minute I got into the rays of the sun, however, I was comfortable. It was a fairly windy day, though not excessively, so I took off my fleece jacket and kept my rain jacket on for a wind shell.
Just as we came up over the bend in the slop, I saw another hill to climb, and realized that I had reached a false summit. The anticipation of reaching the summit along with the disappointment of realizing your goal is nothing more than a false summit is a huge blow to your moral when you are hiking. It is enough to sap your strength and make you want to turn around. However, it was still early in the day, so I wasn't too bothered, and I kept moving on, although I was a little slower because of my disappointment. After twenty or thirty minutes, Salix and I reached what looked like a massive boulder, so we climbed up it to get a sense of where we were at. By this point, I was confused, as it did not seem like there was any real summit, just a large plateau. As we walked across the boulder, I noticed a small metal seal that had some official looking words on it, and concluded that this must be the summit. It was the highest point on the mountain and I could see Oxford across the way. Concluding that I had unwittingly summited a fourteener, I laughed and threw my arms up in victory. I looked around for the register to write my name as proof that I had been there, but could not find it. I just shrugged and Salix and I departed, dreading the climb up Oxford.
The saddle between Belford and Oxford is a long and tedious one, as you lose 700 feet each way. Moreover, Oxford's saddle is a class two scramble up/down and Belford's is an endless series of false summits. On the way over, I passed a few people who encouraged me with the usual "You're getting close!" speech. One was honest, however, and told me the false summits are frustrating, but it won't take more than forty minutes. "Crap!" I thought to myself. Forty minutes just to get up this, and then the same to get back? It was going to be a long excursion. I began in my hike in ernest, trying to get up and down as quickly as possible. Unlike my past fourteeners, however, these were not "easy" climbs. These were fairly remote peaks, and they were longer and steeper than anything I had yet done. What is more, I had not reached my peak shape yet, so I was still struggling with the altitude and fatigue (unlike Mt. Sneffels where I would learn the value of acclimatization and regular exercise). Every few steps I had to stop and rest to catch my breath, having spent a lot of my energy on the initial 2000 feet and the climb up Belford. I had already gained more altitude than I had ever done in one day, and I still had half a fourteener to go (and another if I intended to do Missouri).
I gritted my teeth and decided to push through to the top and take a long break there. When I finally made it, I was by myself, and what a sight it was. Surrounded by fourteeners and the beautiful Collegiate/Sawatch mountains, it was a sight worth seeing. I set down my pack, took Salix's off and took in the views while she wandered around. A few minutes later, a young man joined me, followed by two others (all individual climbers). They began to discuss how many fourteeners they had climbed (one said twelve which made me feel jealous as I had a measly four), and then began to take picture for each other. I asked one of them if they would take a picture of my dog and I with Belford in the background as proof, and he readily agreed. After everyone had taken the obligatory pictures and done what they needed to do, they stood around and started swapping stories. I, on the other hand, took out my sandwich and Salix's food, and we ate. I was exhausted from the early start, so I decided I would leave the summit at noon (twenty minutes from then). I put my headphones in, my sunglasses on, rested my head on my backpack, and started to snooze.
At some point, I think one of them told me I should head down soon, but in my half sleep I didn't understand what he was saying. They left at some point during my nap. A smart thing as the clear blue skies were beginning to turn grey as clouds rolled in from the north. I paid no attention to them, however, as I was fast asleep and had checked to make sure there were no thunderstorms forecasted for that day. There was a loud rumble and the sun suddenly disappeared, startling me awake. The beautiful day I had fallen asleep to had become a windy, rainy, thunderstorm, and I was caught at the highest point in the area; a perfect lightening rod. I yelled at Salix to get up, and hurriedly put on our gear and began to run as fast as we could down the ridge.
The clouds were getting darker and the rain was getting heavier just as we reached the lowest point in the saddle. On my way down I passed an older woman and her two young sons (probably in middle school and high school), saying that they were going to try and get Oxford in and run down the opposite side to avoid the storm. I told her I wouldn't risk it in the lightning, but she knew as much as I did about the area. I'm not sure what ever happened to that family, but if they were going down the slope I think they planned on doing, the weren't going to reach a trail anytime soon, and would be bushwalking form many miles and would easily become lost. Granted, I say this because they were obviously completely unprepared, with nothing but hoodies on and no packs, but they could have easily had more knowledge of the area than I did. I pray that that family made it down all right.
Part way up the Belford saddle, I heard and felt a deep rumble and knew I had to make a choice: bushwhack down Belford Gulch or risk lightning. I chose to bushwhack, thinking that Belford Gulch drained into Missouri Gulch, almost like a T-shape. I expected to have to bush back through some trees and then hit the trail if I kept going straight. In other words, I thought that Missouri Gulch ran North-South and Belford Gulch ran East-West, and that the slopes I had seen earlier just as I came out above timberline were the slopes of Oxford, when in reality they were Peck's Peak. Long story short, I was going into a trap.
I called Salix to me and pointed down the slope and we rock surfed down the first 1000 feet. At this point, I had two worries: One was the lightning and hail, and two was mountain lions. The latter may seem ridiculous to most readers, but I had already encountered one up in the Colorado Rockies when I was in 8th grade on a family vacation, and this terrain was exactly what they would be in. Moreover, I knew that mountain lions were beginning to prey on dogs, and Salix would be a prime target. The loud thunder and rain didn't help either, as anything that made a noise made me jump and look around for any wild animals.
The mountain lion never materialized, however, and we made it to timberline without incident. Of course, at that moment the skies began to turn lighter again and the thunder moved on. However, we were stuck in the gulch and so we had to keep going downhill as I was almost out of energy. We moved into the forest, climbing through bushes and over fallen trees (and there were a ton due to rock slides/avalanches). Multiple times we crossed over rock slide debris, and so this became a worry too. After half an hour of slow going, we ran into a collapsed cabin and some old mining equipment and trash. At least I knew that others had been here before! And I hoped that this was a place that people would visit since there were historical sights, so I began to search for a trail. I soon found one and Salix and I followed it. It quickly became apparent, however, that this trail had fallen into disuse as we were constantly crossing rock slides, debris and fallen trees. It wasn't long before we lost the trail completely and I grew frustrated.
I began to realize that I was lost and that it would take hours to get out at the pace we were going. I sat down and began to think of a way to get us out. In the silence, I heard running water and grinned. If there was water, then this would lead downhill, and it would inevitably drain into the stream in Missouri Gulch! Foregoing any hope of climbing Missouri Mountain, I focused all my attention on getting off this mountain and back to my truck.
We must have been at 11,000 feet by this point as we followed the stream downhill. It was still incredibly hard work, climbing over trees and helping Salix through the bushes and such. We finally reached a clearing and I saw an abandoned cabin with a trail next to it and cheered. We had finally reached Missouri Gulch! This is the same half collapsed cabin I had seen earlier just as we reached timberline on the way up this morning! "Hello?!" I yelled, hoping for a return call.
None came. This cabin had been camped in earlier by some backpackers, and so I had hoped they would still be nearby. I walked up to the cabin and realized that his was not the same cabin. It was just one of many that dotted these mountains. The cabin was in as good of shape as my emotions were. I was lost, tired, hungry, out of water, and had just had my hopes dashed again. Tears came to my eyes, and I quickly wiped them away. I knew that if I headed in a straight line, I would reach Missouri Gulch at some point.
We kept pushing for two more hours, following the abandoned trail through debris. I soon realized why this trail had fallen into disrepair; it was extremely steep and the whole slope was prone to slide. At one point I grabbed a tree to stop myself from sliding down the slope, and it came free and walked Salix in the face. Keep in mind, this wasn't a small tree, it was a very large adult Aspen tree that came clean out of the ground, roots and all. I stopped and hugged Salix to let her know I was sorry, and checked to make sure she was alright. Once I determined she was fine we began moving again, carefully avoiding the trees as much as possible. I soon heard the roar of a large river ahead and realized we were not headed toward Missouri Gulch, but that we had somehow reached Clear Creek. Clear Creek was the river that passed Vicksburg (the ghost town I had parked at and the trailhead). This mean I was still East of my parking spot, but I was delighted to finally have a reference point.
I followed the trail, anticipating that it would somehow connect to my original trailhead, but soon lost it. Frustrated I walked to the edge of the large river and saw my predicament. I could see the dirt road I had come in on, but between it and I was a very deep and strong river (one that I could not cross with Salix) and a cliff on the opposite side which I could not scale. I yelled in frustration and realized I had to keep going West. I started that way and was soon confronted by a very large cliff. As I made my way up it, already exhausted from the climb and bushwack, Salix began to wine behind me. I turned around and realized that should would not be able to make it over this. However, I realized that we had to keep going, so I picked her up and carried her a few steps at a time over the cliff. Once we reached the other side, I looked across the river to get a reference point.
I could not see the road anymore, and began to worry we were already West of the trailhead, and just heading deeper into the mountains beyond the end of the road. In my desparation, I looked for some familiar scenery in the mountains above the road to, but saw none. I had driven up in the dark, so I never got a chance to see what the other side looked like. I had no reference point and was lost, in part, due to my frustration. If I had simply kept calm, I would have realized that Belford Gulch must exit East of the trailhead because of where it had drained out at, and thus I would inevitably hit the trail if I continued West. However, exhaustion and dehydration kept me from realizing this, and my frustration was compounded. I took out my phone in hopes that I would get enough signal for the GPS to locate me, but to no avail. I sat and wept a little, and Salix sat next to me offering her stoic support. I finally pulled myself together enough to start thinking again.
If I didn't hurry, I would have to be finding my way around out here in the dark with no chance of running across any help. So I began to yell for help and continued West, over cliffs that were the roots of the mountain. Finally, I decided to take a look across the river in hopes of seeing a vehicle to indicate that the road was there. After a minute of waiting, I prayed silently to God, begging that He would give me a sign of some kind for help. Lo and behold, just as I was about to turn around I saw the unmistakable top of a car as it zoomed down the dirt road. Since I had no idea where I was and no idea where the road would end, I decided I had no choice but to cross the river and make it to the road.
I took Salix next to me, put on her leash so that I could tug her along when the river became too deep for her to walk and we began to cross the powerful river. Thankfully, the river was only just above Salix's shoulders, so she did have to swim, but I was still tall enough to provide her with help to stay upstream. Using the technique I had learned in Outdoor Leadership class, I braced myself against the current by facing upstream with my feet wide apart and a stick as a third point for balance. We slowly made our way across the river and finally came out the other side. I collapsed in happiness, thankful that Salix had not gotten caught up in the current and to finally be on a road. We began to hike up the road, continuing in the same direction we had been doing earlier. A minute later, a jeep came rolling down the road, and I waved them down. I teared up in happiness, just thankful to see people again.
"Hi there, I'm Daniel, I just climbed Oxford and Belford and I'm trying to find my way back to Vicksburg. Do you know which direction that is?" I asked. "Yes, it's about a mile up this road." The man replied, pointing in the direction we were headed. It was an elderly couple out on a four-wheeling trip, and they were obviously on their way back home. I thanked them and began to continue my hike. "Are you alright?" Asked the lady, looking concerned. "Yes ma'am. I'm just very tired. We got lost and had to bushwhack our way down here." I replied. She looked at her husband and then asked "would you like a ride back to you truck?"
Normally I would say no, as I would not want to be a burden to anyone, especially as they were ready to get home. However, I was so exhausted and ready to get home myself that I gratefully said yes. The older man hopped out of the jeep along with his dog so that Salix and I could get in. He said that he would stay there while the woman dropped us off and then she would go back down the road. I was so grateful for her help that I almost wept with joy. We were back at the truck in just a few short minutes where I offered the woman some money, but she generously declined, saying that she was glad just to help. I don't remember their names, but I am very thankful for their kindness. Especially for going out of their way to help a random hiker. Because of what they did, I promised I would help any hiker/climber I came across from now on in the backcountry, even if I had to go out of my way.
As I drove home, I called my wife and told her of our ordeal and that we would need food when we got home. Glad that these mountains were behind me, I was ready to take a short break before my next adventure. This hike opened my eyes, and I consider this one of the two climbs that turned me from a hiker into a climber. I realized that in order to get fourteeners in the summer, I would need to have a turnaround time of noon. I also needed to have a map, compass, and water filter (and later I would always carry the Ten Essentials in case of emergency). Finally, I needed to learn more about the mountain before I went, and that I should never leave the trail unless it's life or death. There is no such thing as a "shortcut" in the mountains. Trails are there for a reason; use them. Don't take a "shortcut" because it often makes things take longer.
Although I was dead tired and in need of a break, Mount Antero was in my sights, and I would be there in just five short days. In the back of my mind, I was excited and rearing for more.
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