Date Climbed: 6/24/15
Climbing Partner: Nicole
Elevation: 14,336
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Daniel Weiss
Running off of an hour and a half of sleep in the last 30 hours or so, plus a 3 AM wake up time and a 14er just two days before, I knew this was going to be a hard day. Luckily, I didn't have to do this climb alone. Just the day before, a friend of mine, Nicole, asked if I was interested in climbing a 14er. The answer is almost always yes. So we set our sites on Huron Peak and planned to meet at her house at 3 AM. I pulled up to my her house just a few minutes late, half asleep and wanting nothing more than to just go back to bed.
We quickly packed up and began our two and a half hour drive. Nicole agreed to drive for the first bit of the drive while I slept (I was being a true gentleman as you can tell). About an hour into the drive, we began to discuss our plan. There were some concerns about a flooded river we would have to cross on the drive up, so we decided to have a backup plan if it looked too deep. La Plata and Mount Sherman were our two options. There was a problem, however. Because of the forecasted thunderstorms in the afternoon, we would only have one shot at picking the right 14er. My experience on Bierdstadt just a few weeks earlier had taught me to be very conservative when dealing with lightening. Thus, we would have to arrive at the trailhead as soon as possible in order to summit well before the predicted storms. So we discussed our options. On the one hand, if we chose Huron and the river was too high, we wouldn't have enough time to get over to La Plata's standard route, and so we would have to settle for Sherman on the way home as it was a much shorter hike. Yet, Sherman didn't excite us as it wasn't as spectacularly beautiful as Huron. However, if we went for La Plata's standard route, we might not have enough time to summit as it was 3 miles longer than Huron's route.
Since I've had my share of failed attempts, I didn't want to waste all the energy just to get within a few hundred feet and turn around. So I voted for the conservative decision in order to guarantee a 14er summit. Nicole said we should just go for La Plata as it was a beautiful climb and we still had a shot of summiting because we were early and could keep a good pace. I decided to see if there was an alternative and checked out 14ers.com to see if there was a compromise. Surprisingly, there was! La Plata had a Southwestern ridge that could be climbed and it was shorter than the standard route and had less elevation gain. We decided to attempt Huron and go to La Plata if we couldn't make he trailhead.
At around 6, we pulled up to Winfield (an old ghost town) and took the fork in the road that led to Huron's trailhead. Shortly after we began up the rough 4-wheel drive road and our progress slowed. About a mile up the road we saw what we thought was the creek crossing that had stopped so many cars. However, it was little more than a trickle and we easily made it across. Excited, thinking we were going to have the opportunity to climb Huron, we moved on. However, just as we came around a corner, we noticed a large truck pulled off to one side. It was odd as the road had not grown any rougher and it was still a good distance to the trailhead. Just then I noticed something blocking the road: a fallen tree. We stopped and I walked up to it and attempted to move it, but there was no way. It was a very large tree and we had no chainsaw to move it with. So I got back in the car and we quickly retreated back down the road, hoping to get to La Plata's trailhead soon as we were now very late.
Arriving at the washed out road around 7, we quickly put on our gear and began our hike. In order to cross the river that now flowed across the washed out road, we had to balance on a few trees that had been set next to each other across the gap. Not trusting the makeshift bridge, Nicole crawled across on all fours and I had a great time laughing at her slow progress. Karma quickly caught up with me, though, as I had to stop a few times to retie my brand new boots because of some excruciating blisters I had received from my climb of Mount Lincoln. Finally, we were on our way and made good time to timberline.
Once there, we saw one of the most beautiful vistas I had ever been to. On all sides of the gulch we steep mountains, covered in wildflowers. Off in the distance were the taller peaks, summits just barely layered with snow. Off to the southwest were the famed "Three Apostles" and their stunning views. To the Southeast was Huron Peak. To the Northwest was the tip of Sayers, and to the northeast were some stunning cliffs with some interesting looking snow climbs. We continued up the gulch and marched through the muddy willows. Thankfully, the progress was much faster than it would have been with snow on the ground, so I had no issues with the mud. after half an hour of trudging through the mud, we reached the base of a very steep colouir. It took us about 45 minutes or so to reach the top of this, and the sight that greeted us at the top stopped my heart.
Immediately to my left (west) was a knife edge with thousands of feet on either side that lead to a very small peak. To the right (east) was a smaller looking gentler mountain slope. When Nicole reached the top, I pointed at the peak to our left and she laughed (sarcastically). It was hopeless. We had no gear with us that could deal with the kind of challenges we would have to face if we attempted the peak. I need to explain that this trail is not well marked as it is not used very often. It took us half an hour just to find the trailhead. My map also cut off about half of the trail, so I had nothing to refer to. The only way we knew we were headed the right direction was by the faint trail. However, the trail ended at the top of the color and we had no idea which mountain was the right one. Based upon my impressions of La Plata, I thought La Plata had a western ridge that looked much like the mountain to the west of us. However, the one time I read the route description for this trail, it had said it was nothing more than a class two hike and that there was a gentle slope after the willows. The hike before us was a class four hike (meaning scrambling and some technical rock climbing moves). I just assumed the website was wrong on the difficulty of the hike, just as it had been with Mount Evans.
The mountain to the east fit the description, but the location of the mountain to our west fit the location better. What's more, there was a trail we could see back down in the valley that seemed to be a route that would lead to the top of the peak. It also looked much taller than the other mountain. We both groaned; we had taken the wrong trail and it would take at least an hour and a half to get to the top of the other trail. Since I saw what I thought was Huron, and it looked like the mountain to our left was the only one west of Huron (just like La Plata is) I assumed the difficult mountain was La Plata. We began moving across the ridge, intending to go as far as we could. After some very slow progress I stopped and tried to assess our situation. Even if we could make the top, we wouldn't be able to get down fast enough to avoid the thunderstorms at noon. It would also be very risky to attempt this peak which had so much snow at the top mixed with steep rock. This climb required an ice axe and crampons. I only had an ice axe and boots. Nicole had neither, and I had no rope to belay her up the rock hard snow that would certainly be at the top. Our only shot would be for me to chop steps into the snow and hope that would be good enough to make it up the steep slopes once we made it across the ridge. However, the ridge itself was difficult enough since there were sections where we would have to down climb and the climb back up a hundred feet or so of 5.9+ rock (a very difficult climb even with rope).
I knew there was no way if we went straight across, so I looked back toward the other trail. We could traverse along the edge of the slope of the mountain and eventually meet up with the trail, but even that would be very difficult because of how steep the angle was. I turned to Nicole and asked what she thought. Neither of us were interested in a 13er (which is what we thought the peak to the east was), but neither of us wanted to go back empty handed. Since we were uncertain about which peak was La Plata, we decided to just try and climb the mountain to our east and hope it was La Plata. We back tracked and began our now hurried ascent. Just as I began to lose hope that this peak was La Plata, I saw two small figures coming down the slope. I yelled back to Nicole, excited that we could ask someone if we were going the right way.
It took much longer to reach them than I thought it would, but eventually we met up. I asked if we were headed the right way to La Plata and they responded with a yes. I felt reenergized and almost shouted for joy now that we still had hope. They told us that the clouds from the top were starting to look threatening and that we probably wouldn't reach the top before the storms came. I was disappointed to hear this, but I wasn't ready to give up yet. We thanked them and redoubled our efforts to reach the top. We had a lot of time to make up for, but at least the summit was now in sight. Although the slope looked like a very gentle one from a distance, it turned out to be much steeper and rockier than it looked, and it took an hour of tough going to reach the summit. However, just as I came of the lip of the mountain, ready to yell in victory, I was stopped short.
About a half mile in the distance and another 700 feet up I saw the true summit. We were already as high as the first peak we'd attempted and this next peak was much higher. It was undoubtedly a fourteener as it dominated the skyline and I could see people standing on it's summit. It just reminded my just how tall these 14ers really are. You always think you're almost there, but then there's always that last half mile or thousand feet left above you when you see the true summit. There were two more false summits standing between me and the peak. We had come too far to turn around now, and my resolve hardened to finish now matter what. I waited a little for Nicole to join me on the false summit and I could tell that she too was disappointed at the sight (beautiful though it was).
We began the long walk onward, willing one foot in front of the other. I began to think in small increments, just setting small goals for myself. I focused on just one small false summit and then the two big ones, telling myself it was just this one more false summit and then I'd be there. finally we met up with the standard route and in no time we made the short hike from the last false summit over to the true summit. I stood there, looking out over the magnificent view of the Sawatch Range. To the West I could just make out the famed Maroon Bells and to the North were the true giants: Massive and Elbert. Nicole soon joined me and we celebrated with high five and congratulations. I knew we couldn't really celebrate yet, however, as the threat of storms were all around us. None had appeared yet, but that could change in a moments notice with the clouds to both the South and East. Nicole had a quick bite to eat, and even offered me a bite of her sandwich as I had forgotten mine. This is one of the things I love about 14ers. One of my former teachers describes it in this way; "it creates a temporary community. It creates a small group where people can simply be themselves without the pressure of everyday life." It allows us to be more open and creates greater friendships through the struggles a team has to overcome.
After a quick chat with the other groups on the summit, we began the long hike back. I knew it was going to be just as long coming down as it was going up because of how steep and rocky the slopes were. The later it got, the more threatening the clouds looked and I began to have flashbacks to the storm on Bierstadt. When we made it back to the bottom of the saddle between the jagged peak (which I later learned was called Sayers) and the first false summit, we ran into a group of two men and three kids. They seemed to be going very slow and they had another hard two hours ahead of them. The man asked some info on the route ahead. I described the route but warned him that the storms were on their way. He encouraged his group to go faster, hoping to push them to the summit. I wanted to tell him to turn his group around since he had kids, but I knew it was up to his judgement. Shortly after consulting the other adult they decided to turn around. One of the children began to cry. I felt very bad since I had been somewhat negative in my assessment of their chances, but I had to be as it was not easy and they were already very slow and it was too close of a call to continue on with kids. However, the ultimate decision was theirs and they made the right choice I think. They began their descent and we moved on ahead of them.
After a long grind down to the bottom of the colouir we took a break to rest our knees and get some water. We were somewhat safer in the gulch protected by the steep cliffs and with timberline so close at hand. With this in mind, and the fact that I wanted to wait to make sure the group with the kids got down safe, I dropped my pack and sat next to a rock and took in the views. Nicole sat down as well and we discussed our trip so far and other 14ers we wanted to do. It was nice to finally be able to sit down and relax on a hike rather than face the harsh winter conditions and hazards I had dealt with so much in my recent climbs. Whiteouts, avalanches, frostbite, severe wind, and lightening turned these mountains from strenuous hikes into mountaineering feats. But the true joy from climbing a 14er was from hikes like this: an nice pace with no real obstacles and some time to enjoy the scenery.
I was half tempted to take a nap when a low rumble made me stand upright in an instant. I grabbed my pack and told Nicole we had to get down fast. I was afraid I had made the same mistake I had last time: we were too high for too long. We wouldn't get down fast enough, and as drops of rain began to fall, the lightening would be on top of us in five minutes. I rushed ahead, ripping through bogs and willows without even noticing them. I could feel the rush of adrenaline as I began to have flashbacks of Bierstadt. It was almost as though I could feel the static building up on my body again and hear the scratching on my backpack from the lightening strikes. But there was no lightening. Thankfully, we did not have the same experience as I had on Bierstadt, but we had made it back to treeline just in time. Once we were below the trees, I felt more relieved and we continued back to the car without incident. We congratulated each other and began to talk about other 14ers we wanted to do. Nicole had done very well as she hadn't done a 14er since last season. She was almost beating me up the mountain several times!
Overall, this is one of my favorite hikes and probably the best way to hike La Plata.One day I hope to go back and backpack into that gulch and maybe even take a picture from Crystal Lake. Not only had I gotten in a CCU 14er (one of the 14ers the CCU dorms are named after), but I had accomplished 14 peaks and had done one of the classic 14ers. Ahead of me was the famed climb "Dead Dog Colouir" up Torrey's Peak. I had no idea what it would be like, but I knew it would take everything I had learned from other snow climbs to reach that summit.
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