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By Terry, October 2, 2010 10:17 am

Kit Carson Peak (14,165 ft.) and its north ridge

GPS profile of our route

Elevation and Google Earth profiles

So far, 2010 has been all about improving my scrambling and climbing skills. As the fair weather days are winding down, I will soon need to get into winter mountaineering mode. It has been a dry autumn for most of Colorado; there’s no harm in taking advantage of the weather! The weather forecast was actually looking a bit iffy for Saturday, though — 30% chance of snow. I had no desire to be on a Class 4 ridge climb while snow was falling without the proper gear. I also didn’t know how much snow had already fallen in the Sangre de Cristos as most of the 14ers in the state had their first dusting of snow in the last two weeks. We would have to make a last minute decision about whether we were going to attempt the climb when we saw the conditions for ourselves.

Jerry and I left my place at 2:00 AM. We were aiming for a 5:30 AM start since sunrise was approaching 7:00 as we get further into Autumn. We arrived at the Willow Lake trailhead at 5:15 and prepared ourselves for the day. Being that I injured my right ankle during the after-hike festivities last weekend (that’s another story altogether), I had to purchase an ankle brace for additional support. My ankle had been really swollen on Sunday and Monday, but thanks to RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) during the week it felt good enough to hike and climb on. Jerry knew about the injury and I was a little concerned about whether the ankle was going to be able to hold up on a Class 4 climb. That was something else we were going to have to evaluate before hitting the tough stuff. We hit the trail at 5:31.

I counted the switchbacks from the trailhead register to the top of the initial ascent on our way back down and discovered that there were twelve. Once up the initial pitch, the Willow Creek Trail descends a little bit and parallels a wide field to the right known as Willow Creek Park. Because it was still dark outside we couldn’t see anything outside of the trail, but we knew it was there. I knew there were a lot of switchbacks on the way up to the first crossing of Willow Creek, so as soon as we passed the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness sign, I prepared myself to count them. It always seems to help knowing how many switchbacks there are so you’re not like, “Another one?!?” on the way down. This was my third trip up to Willow Lake this year: Once in May; once during an attempt at the north ridge in July in which I was spooked off by weather; and once during this attempt. I was surprised that I didn’t think to count the switchbacks before now.

From the Wilderness sign, there are twenty-six switchbacks before reaching Willow Creek. Jerry had been calling me “Speedy” all morning because I was out-pacing him, but he was still feeling the effects of working a 60-hour week and only getting three hours of sleep the night before. A little later on, he told me that he wasn’t feeling that well, either, like a cold was coming on. We passed a guy whom I recognized from our Little Bear/Blanca trip. He was riding an ATV down from Lake Como. After Willow Creek, the trail ascended again before leveling out for a bit and crossing over the creek again. We spotted a few tents as we approached the lake and continued on. The last time I attempted the north ridge of Kit Carson, I followed the standard trail up Challenger Point for a little longer than I probably should have, so I wanted to see if we could stay lower and closer to the creek once we reached it again above the falls. As we got higher in elevation, we got our first glance at Kit Carson’s north and west faces — and there was snow. Jerry commented that our game needed to be stepped-up a few notches because of it. I looked at the ridge; in the early morning light, it seemed to be pretty sun-exposed. Even though there wasn’t a lot of snow there were probably going to be patches of ice that we were going to be exposed to, but the ridge itself should have been pretty dry. Jerry asked me again if I was sure I wanted to attempt it. Onward and upward! Jerry said that since he had been leading all summer, it was my turn to lead. This was going to be interesting….

At some point during our hike between when I took the first photo of Kit Carson and we left the standard route up Challenger, I lost the lens cap for my camera. Fortunately, I always have at least a UV filter on so the camera lens is protected, but it was going to be interesting getting up the north slope without chipping or shattering the lens.

Photo 1	Photo 2	Photo 3
Photo 4	Photo 5	Photo 6
Photo 7	Photo 8	Photo 9
Photo 10	Photo 11	Photo 12

Photo 1 shows the ridge highlighted in yellow. After crossing Willow Creek again above the falls, Jerry and I angled left close to the creek (photo 2). Almost immediately after leaving the standard trail, we located another trail heading in the direction we were going. I knew that Willow Creek Lakes were further up in the basin, but didn’t realize that there was a well-worn trail to them. The last time I was up here, I stayed high beneath Challenger and Kit Carson on broken slopes that became a serious PITA to traverse. It was going to be nice to not have to deal with that again. To get to the beginning of our ascent route, we needed to get past the obvious cliffs that can be seen beneath Kit Carson. It starts very near the Outward Bound Couloir. Once I spotted the line I wanted to take, I headed straight toward it (photos 3, 4). I found a gully that was composed of pretty stable rock (photos 5, 6, 7). We stayed close to the right side of the gully as we scrambled up the Class 3 rock. At the top of the gully (photo 8), we started getting glimpses of the north ridge (photos 9-11). We eventually angled up and to our right while our sight was fixated on the ridge.

Photo 13	Photo 14	Photo 15
Photo 16	Photo 17	Photo 18
Photo 19	Photo 20	Photo 21
Photo 22	Photo 23	Photo 24

Jerry and I headed west toward the ridge. Instead of a direct ascent up to the ridge, I decided to switchback and save some energy. There were grassy and rocky ledges that were easy enough to follow (photos 13-16). We continued an ascending traverse toward the base of the north ridge (photo 17). As we approached the base, I spotted from a distance what looked like a cairn (photo 18). We approached the base of the ridge and discovered that it was, indeed, a cairn (photos 19, 20). It appeared that we were on the right track! Instead of climbing right on the ridge at first, I went a little further (probably about fifty feet or so) and began to climb up a northwest face (photos 21, 22). I tried to switchback up it as much as possible and eventually made it back over to the left, back to the ridge (photo 23). There were a lot of grassy ledges and platforms to rest on. Columbia Point loomed large to the east (photo 24).

Photo 25	Photo 26	Photo 27
Photo 28	Photo 29	Photo 30
Photo 31	Photo 32	Photo 33
Photo 34	Photo 35	Photo 36

On the way up, I couldn’t help but make note of how dramatic the exposure actually was (photos 25, 26). It reminded me a lot of Little Bear’s northwest face although climbing a face and climbing a ridge pose different sets of difficulties. As Jerry and I neared the top of the initial pitch (photo 27), I began to notice that not all of the conglomerate rock was solid. Sure, it was a lot more solid than some of the other stuff that we had climbed this year, but I found a slight looseness in some of the rocks, so I made sure to test each handhold and foothold before pulling/pushing myself up. Challenger Point’s large summit ridge soon came into view to the west (photo 28) and I knew we were making progress.

Past the initial pitch, Jerry and I continued to climb directly on the ridge (photos 29-32). When I looked back to the northeast, I expected to be able to see parts of the Wet Mountain Valley. What I saw was a valley covered by a layer of clouds (photo 33). Apparently, some low-level moisture had moved into the valley from the east or south, but didn’t have enough momentum to push over the high peaks of the Sangres. I didn’t have any complaints about it; Jerry and I were enjoying blue skies and a warm sun which we were both thankful for. We continued climbing directly on the ridge (photos 34-36) and there were some hairy moments that made me think, “If I slip and fall, I’m going to die.” It didn’t deter me from continuing, though. Despite the gloomy thought, I was having a lot of fun!

Photo 37	Photo 38	Photo 39
Photo 40	Photo 41	Photo 42
Photo 43	Photo 44	Photo 45
Photo 46	Photo 47	Photo 48
	Photo 49

Jerry and I continued up the steep ridge (photos 37, 38). Ahead of us was a gendarme that looked pretty significant (photo 39). I sort of wanted to avoid climbing it, if possible. I was getting pretty fatigued and wasn’t sure if there was a large drop-off behind it. We spotted a large, snow-covered ledge down to the right. This ledge is highlighted in yellow in this photo. On steep, snow-covered ledges, I began to try a descending traverse down to the ledge, but there was nowhere safe to try and get down from our current position. I took a few minutes to scan the area and I think this made Jerry a little nervous because he was concerned that I froze. My left calf started cramping-up, though, so I knew I couldn’t stay there for much longer. Jerry suggested that we re-gain the ridge and headed back. I followed him a few moments later while taking care to make sure I had a solid foothold underneath the snow. Crossing snow normally doesn’t bother me — at least not as much as it used to. This was the first time that I encountered a little bit of snow and ice on a Class 4 route, though, and it wasn’t enough to warrant snow gear. So, yeah — I was nervous.

Panorama taken from Kit Carson’s north ridge

Back up on the ridge, I looked over at Columbia Point again (photo 40). I’m going to have to summit that sometime. Along the ridge, we encountered a notch that we had to down-climb into and climb back up the other side (photo 41). The notch can also be seen behind and to the right of Jerry in photo 43. From there, we approached the gendarme which didn’t look as bad as it did from further down on the ridge. In fact, it looked extremely climbable (photos 42, 44). While on the gendarme, I saw the ridge to the right rounding-off to the summit of Kit Carson (photo 45). I had expressed to Jerry several times during the climb that I thought that ridge was the one we were supposed to be on. As it turned out, we were right all along.

On top of the gendarme, the slope of the ridge eased to Class 3 for another pitch (photo 46). Jerry, still allowing me to lead, kept close to me as we climbed over the gendarme (photo 47). Over the short Class 3 scramble, the summit came into view (photo 48)! We continued to walk along the ridge and could have stayed right along it. There was one more notch that turned out to be not such a big deal, but I dropped a little lower to the left of the ridge and bypassed it before regaining the ridge (photo 49). Jerry and I summited Kit Carson Peak at 11:05.

Crestone Peak and Needle

Jerry lounging on Kit Carson’s summit

Me taking a well-deserved break

Panorama taken from the summit of Kit Carson Peak

The sun was nice and warm at the summit, but there were some clouds building to the west that would shade us for a few minutes at a time. We spent about forty-five minutes by ourselves on the summit while we recharged, rested, and rehydrated. This was Jerry’s second summit of Kit Carson this year. I’m glad he doesn’t have any objections to summiting the same peak more than once a year! I, myself, have summited all of the Sangres this year except Ellingwood Point — but I did climb Little Bear Peak twice. It’s been quite a year for me in this range.

Jerry and I spotted three people on top of Challenger Point, so we knew we were going to be crossing paths with them. I knew that one of them had to be the guy that we passed on our way up. We started down on the standard trail, but it was filled with loose dirt and scree so we abandoned it for the more-stable rock to our right and down-climbed onto Kit Carson Avenue. The Avenue is a large ledge that allows easy passage to the base of the scramble up to the summit. It’s pretty steep, though, and Jerry and I were worn out from our ascent. About half-way up the avenue, we crossed paths with three guys — and one was the guy that we passed. We gave them instructions on how to reach the summit and parted ways with them. A short while later, we reached the top of the Avenue. I had been concerned about how much snow was on the steep descent to the Kit Carson/Challenger saddle, but there were only a few medium-sized patches that were easily avoided.

Jerry reaching the top of the Avenue looking tired and haggard. I don’t think he really felt that way, though. He was just being a drama queen.

A look back down on Kit Carson Avenue

It only took us about forty-five minutes to reach the summit of Challenger Point. We encountered another group of three hikers who looked like they wanted to summit Kit Carson, but were maybe having second thoughts about it. Jerry and I rested another twenty minutes or so on Challenger’s summit before heading down it’s suck-ass standard route.

Kit Carson Peak from Challenger Point

As Jerry and I headed down the horribly loose slope of Challenger Point, I took several looks back at Kit Carson. At first, the north ridge wasn’t visible, but it started rolling into view. I saw the snow-covered ledge that I wanted to take as well as the clearly-defined ridge line. The ridge that I thought was the one we were supposed to be on was facing more to the northwest and was much more snow-covered. Had we tried to traverse over to it, we might have not summited…. We were fine, though, and besides a couple slips on the loose descent of Challenger, we were going to make it down without incident. I was pleasantly surprised that my ankle held out long enough for me to climb the north ridge. I guess the rest that I gave it during the week was enough for me to recover.

When Jerry and I reached the bottom of the slope, we stopped to rest and peel off some layers. After about ten minutes or so, we headed back down to the lake. I asked Jerry to keep an eye out for my lens cap as we descended, but neither of us found it. My UV filter, unfortunately, had received a couple of chips on it from impacting the rock on our ascent, but the filter can be replaced relatively inexpensively. We stopped at the lake for a photo or two before leaving. On our way back, I had to peel off another layer and zip-off the bottoms of my pants. It turned out to be quite a warm day for one that was forecasted to have a 30% chance of snow! There were trees still showing golden leaves, so I made sure to take a couple of photos near Willow Lake Park. We reached my truck shortly after 5:00. It wasn’t one of our typical twelve-plus-hour days, but pretty close to it.

GPS stats from our ascent of Kit Carson’s north ridge and return via Challenger Point

Google Earth .KML file of my route (right-click and “save target as” to save the file). NOTE: For some reason, if you’re using Internet Explorer, when you “save target as”, it changes the file extension to .XML. This is incorrect. To be able to view this in Google Earth, change the file extension to .KML before saving the file. It downloads correctly in Firefox.

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By Terry, July 25, 2009 10:36 pm

Challenger Point (14,081 feet, center) and Kit Carson Peak (14,165 feet, the rounded summit on the left)

I unintentionally had my first Class 4 climb this past weekend. I thought I’d mention that up-front because it was kind of an interesting situation, but at least I wasn’t the only one. I’ll explain in more detail later.

Earlier this year when I was scheduling my summer hikes, I decided that I wanted to knock off a bunch of the 14ers in the Sangre de Cristo Range. For the third weekend in a row, Matt and I were going to be backpacking into the Sangres and camping to take on two more of the peaks. For some reason, I knew this was not going to be one of my favorite trips of the summer. Don’t get me wrong — Willow Lake is absolutely beautiful. I just didn’t feel as energetic as I had been feeling over the previous weeks. I think that three weekends in a row of backpacking was finally getting to me.

Matt picked me up from my place in Colorado Springs at 5:00 AM on Friday and we headed south toward Crestone, CO. The Willow Creek Trail was just a few miles outside of that town. This would be the third time in two years that I sought Crestone as an area to hike in. A sleepy little town nestled in the western foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Range, it is a Mecca of sorts for a variety of the world’s religions thanks to the presence of the Manitou Foundation — the organization that granted us access to Cottonwood Creek the week before. We arrived at the trailhead right around 8:00 and were suprised to see a number of cars parked there. In addition to providing a gateway to Kit Carson Mountain (which includes Kit Carson Peak and Challenger Point), Willow Lake is also a popular fishing destination for anglers. Matt and I donned our backpacks and hit the trail at around 8:20.

The hike to Willow Lake is approximately 4.5 miles, so we had a few hours on the trail ahead of us. A little over a mile into the hike, we started descending into a low point on the trail. To our right was a large, beautiful, green meadow. We imagined the meadow filled with elk in the fall during rutting season. What a sight it must be to behold.

Panorama of the meadow along Willow Creek Trail

We passed a fork in the trail and had a momentary distraction that caused us to consult the trail guide, but continued on the trail we were already hiking soon afterward. The trail eventually headed up into a series of switchbacks and a waterfall came into full-view. I stopped to take a couple of photos of the falls. We crossed over to the south side of Willow Creek. The creek was relatively wide and there were several fallen trees provided a path across it, but weighed-down by 45 lb backpacks was going to make it tricky. Fortunately, our trekking poles gave us much needed support and we were able to cross without incident.

I asked Matt to snap this photo of me

After the creek crossing, the trail became more steep as we started ascending a headwall adjacent to the creek leading up to Willow Lake. The trail became pretty rocky and gave us a photo opportunity of the San Luis Valley to the west.

Looking west into the San Luis Valley

Matt and I ascended the headwall until it started leveling-out. We eventually crossed path with a couple of backpackers heading back down to the trailhead. I noticed that one of them had a fishing pole, so I asked him if he had any luck at the lake. The man said that he didn’t have any luck and hadn’t even seen any sign of fish. We parted ways and continued on. We came to another creek crossing and began to see a lot of tents scattered about. There were a lot of campsites in the area, so we knew that we were getting close to the lake. When we got a little further along the trail, we noticed some movement among the trees. A small herd of bighorn sheep were grazing among the trees. They were relatively unafraid of us and tolerated our presence without much fear at all.

A lot of spur trails led off of the main trail and we decided to look for a campsite of our own. Taking one the trails, we happened upon some of the same bighorn sheep that we saw earlier. We were able to get within a few feet of the sheep as they dug at the ground with their hooves in a particular spot. They, like a lot of other animals, like to lick salts out of the ground.

Bighorn sheep near Willow Lake

Matt and I decided to set up camp at the site where the bighorn sheep were grazing near right around 1:00 PM. It was already an established camp and we would have minimal impact on the area. The creek was running nearby, so we had easy access to fresh water. We set up my tent and began to settle in to the area. We were also interested in getting up to see Willow Lake since it was so close. We hiked a short distance to Willow Lake for some photo opps.

Willow Falls at the eastern end of Willow Lake. The trail up Challenger Point crosses the creek above the falls

Panorama of Willow Lake

Another panorama of Willow Lake encompassing about 270° of view

Matt and I returned to camp and ate some dinner. Around 6:30, rain began to fall, so we crawled into the tent and turned in for the night. I set the alarm on my phone for 4:00 AM the next morning.

---

Matt and I awoke the next morning and I wasn’t feeling energetic about the hike. After breakfast, we hit the trail to Challenger Point around 5:20. Technically a sub-peak of Kit Carson, Challenger Point has a clean topographic prominence of 281 feet (optimistic prominence of 321 feet). Because of the clean prominence, it is sometimes not considered a “true” 14er as it falls below the 300 foot topographic prominence rule to be considered a separate peak. Still, many people hike to its summit because the standard route up Kit Carson Peak takes one over it and to pay homage to its namesake. Christened on April 9, 1987, the previously unnamed sub-peak of Kit Carson Peak is named in memory of the seven astronauts who lost their lives on the space shuttle Challenger on January 28, 1986. I remember the event pretty vividly. I was in 5th grade that year and was a member of a program called Young Astronauts. My teacher was the faculty sponsor of the program. It was also particularly memorable because one of the seven astronauts who died that day was Christa McAuliffe, who was to be the first teacher to fly on a shuttle mission. My school’s principal made an announcement over the PA system as soon as he learned of the tragedy and my teacher ran out to roll at TV into the classroom so that we could watch history unfold. We spent the next couple of hours watching news coverage of the accident. It was a memory forever imprinted in my mind.

Kit Carson Peak is named for the famous frontiersman, Christopher Houston “Kit” Carson. Fort Carson, an army base in my hometown of Colorado Springs, also bears his name. Kit Carson settled down in Colorado following the Civil War and passed away at the age of 58 in Fort Lyon, CO.

As Matt and I made our way up the north slope of Challenger Point, it became clear that we were going to have a lot of company on the mountain. There was quite a bit of water still running off of the slope and a couple of gullies had significant snow remaining. We had to cross over the smaller gully, but not the larger one, thankfully. Challenger Point is listed as “Difficult Class 2″ due to about 600 feet of loose soil and rocks that exist on the north slope below the summit ridge. One can choose to bypass the loose stuff and climb the more-stable rock along the side of the gully, but the difficulty becomes Class 3 at that point. I chose to climb up the more-stable rock for about 200 feet below a notch at the bottom of Challenger’s summit ridge. Once we reached the notch, the trail meandered on the west side of the ridge for a little while, then followed the long ridge all the way to the summit. We reached Challenger’s summit around 8:15 AM.

Challenger Point’s memorial plate. Ad Astra Per Aspera (“To the stars through adversity”)

Kit Carson Peak seen from Challenger Point

Panorama from the summit of Challenger Point. Kit Carson Peak is the rounded peak on the left and Crestone Peak is just to the right of it.

Admittedly, I was pretty unenthusiastic about Kit Carson Peak. After spending about 20 minutes on Challenger, we decided to move on before a large group of people summited. Our goal was to descend Challenger and hike up part of “Kit Carson Avenue”, a ledge that ascends the peak’s west side. The Avenue reaches a notch, then descends a ledge on Kit Carson’s south side before beginning a Class 3 ascent to the summit. Because it is Class 3, we made the wise decision to bring our helmets. With the number of people on the peaks that day, there was an increased chance of having rocks kicked down on us. On top of the Avenue, we found an interesting shot of Crestone Peak through some rocks.

Crestone Peak seen from Kit Carson Avenue

We descended the south side of the Avenue and eventually made it to the bottom of the gully we needed to climb to reach the summit. There was a faint trail to follow in areas, but the safer route was going to be to climb the more-stable rock along the side of the gully. I was tired and had an injury to my left big toe that was causing me a lot of discomfort, so I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about reaching the summit.

I have an issue. I believe that a party of hikers or climbers — even if only two people — should only go as fast as its slowest member. If I choose to hike with a friend, it’s because I enjoy the company of that friend and want to be able to reach our destination and enjoy the experience together, not 30 or 60 minutes afterward. When Matt and I were hiking Blanca and Ellingwood a couple of weeks ago, we observed a lone hiker near our campsite who stood there for a very long time looking back up to the peaks like he was waiting for someone. Matt made the comment, “That’s what happens when you get too far ahead of your group,” so I figured he was of the same opinion as I. Everyone knows I’m a slow hiker; I have no qualms about admitting that up-front. I’ve been left behind before and it’s not fun. You will never catch me doing that to anyone. Just like most parents teach their children — you treat others the way that you would want to be treated. If I am the stronger hiker (which doesn’t happen very often), I always keep my partner within my line of sight so I can see when he stops to rest. If my hiking partner gets injured, I want to be there immediately to help him and not have him worry about relying on the kindness of strangers. This is a big pet peeve of mine and I try to drop sarcastic hints about it when my hiking partner gets too far ahead of me.

Nevertheless, once we started climbing up the final pitch, Matt pulled ahead of me and before long was out of my line of sight. Yes, this irritated me, so rather than risk further injury to myself by trying to catch-up, I decided to stop and rest for about ten minutes to catch my breath and calm myself. I did eventually catch up to him at the summit almost 45 minutes later and I let him know exactly how irritated I was — so irritated, in fact, that this is the only summit shot that I took from Kit Carson Peak:

Crestone Peak seen from the summit of Kit Carson Peak

But, like I said, it is my issue. I own my emotions and have a choice on how to react. I chose to be irritated by the situation and let it seriously disrupt the thrill of reaching the summit of my sixth 14er in three weeks. I cannot hold anyone other than myself accountable for how I choose to react. To coin a recent term — I own my “C”.

After eating a little bit and rehydrating, I strapped on my pack and started to descend. Matt had mentioned that he was going to try and summit Columbia Point, another sub-peak of Kit Carson. Columbia was formerly known as “Kat Carson”, but was renamed Columbia Point in June of 2003 in memory of the crew of the Space Shuttle Columbia which was destroyed during re-entry on February 1, 2003.

This is where my Class 4 adventure began.

Somehow, on my way down, I managed to bypass the Avenue completely and ended up down-climbing a steep couloir (gully) — much steeper than I have ever been on before. There were areas where the rock was extremely slabby and left few areas to place my hands and feet, but I kept down-climbing because I thought I was still on my way down to the avenue. Beneath me to the right, I saw a ledge that closely-resembled Kit Carson Avenue, but something was different about it. For one, there was a large snowfield beneath it — something that I did not remember from having been on the Avenue before. For two, it was MUCH lower in elevation than I remembered. Despite this, I chose to continue toward it, climbing across the stable Crestone Conglomerate rock. One slip on the steep pitch, though, and I would have most certainly met my end.

I eventually started hearing voices above me which brough me comfort. There were some climbers heading down toward me, so I yelled up to them and asked if I was still heading toward Kit Carson Avenue. The climber just above me said that he had come over from the other side if Kit Carson, so he wasn’t sure. He and his partner eventually reached me and I pointed down toward the ledge that resembled the Avenue. They decided that they were going head for it. I advised them not to while explaining my reservations and that I had come over the Avenue on my way to Kit Carson Peak. The ledge below us resembled the Avenue that I had been on, but I knew that it was not. One of the hikers made an offhand remark, “Well, then you were obviously not on the Avenue.” Having just explained that I came over from Challenger Point, I was somewhat taken aback by his disregard and shrugged it off.

From above us came more voices. There were two climbers nearing our location and two more above them. I shouted up to them that what I saw probably wasn’t the Avenue, so the two upper climbers started back up to verify the route. While the two climbers near me continued to head down to the right, I climbed back up to reach the level of the climbers above me. We all made the decision to continue back up and re-summit Kit Carson again, if needed. I realized that I had shared the route up Challenger and Kit Carson with the two climbers I had reached. They were also from Colorado Springs and we spoke on both of the summits. One of them said that I was welcome to stick close to them because going off-route alone had to have been an unnerving experience. I verified that wholeheartedly.

The other climber I was with checked the altimeter on his watch; we were at about 13,300 — about 500 feet lower than we should have been. Together, we started to climb back up the steep pitch and one of them mentioned that this climb was giving them more exposure to 4th Class rock. Further up I inquired about whether it was truly a Class 4 climb and was told, “Most definitely.” I had never done Class 4 before, so I wasn’t sure. The amount of exposure that we experienced below us coupled with the amount of continual hand-over-hand climbing and placement made it a true Class 4 climb.

During one of our stops, I heard one of the climbers above us exclaim, “Holy shit!” followed by a long pause, which made me a bit nervous. “I’m on the Avenue!” he shouted soon afterward. I was extremely relieved! He was only about fifty feet above me, so I scrambled up and found myself on the ledge that lead to the Avenue! We stood there for a few minutes and I thanked all of them for leading me back up. Truthfully, I don’t know how far I would have continued down the gully had I not seen the climbers above me. I didn’t know if Matt had headed back to camp and discovered that I wasn’t there or if he went on to attempt Columbia Point, but one of the climbers that was further above me verified that she had seen him near the summit of Columbia earlier.

From behind us, we began to hear voices and were concerned that more people were heading down the gully. We started shouting out to them that the Avenue was at our location and I walked back over to the ledge. Looking down, I saw two climbers below me. I announced that I was on the Avenue and that they needed to come up to my level, which they did. I recognized them as the two climbers that continued down toward the faux Avenue and were relieved that they decided against it. The one climber who told me that I hadn’t been on the Avenue before apologized for treating me rudely earlier, saying that he was frustrated and nervous about being off-route. I understood and asked what made them decide to turn back. The lack of cairns, hikers, and a discernible trail ultimately made the decision for them. I was glad that it did.

After hiking back up the Avenue, I needed to re-summit Challenger Point. Looking back down on the Avenue, I recognized a yellow helmet and shouted down to see if the person wearing it was Matt. It was him! He eventually caught up to me near the Kit Carson/Challenger saddle and we continued on together. Some clouds had moved in and we began to hear infrequent claps of thunder. We needed to get off of the mountain as quickly as possible.

We re-summited Challenger Point and made a hasty descent off of the mountain. When we made it back to camp, we had a talk about what happened and I apologized to Matt for snapping at him on the summit. It was a learning experience for both of us and I believe that we are both capable of putting it behind us.

After a couple of hours of rest, Matt and I packed-up and hiked back down to the trailhead. We were both famished, so we stopped in at the Harvest Restaurant (an organic restaurant!) in Crestone for dinner. We ate, then hit the road back to Colorado Springs around 8:30. We arrived home shortly after midnight.

Thusly, my adventures in the Sangre de Cristos for the summer of 2009 came to an end. In three weeks, I tripled the number of 14ers that I had bagged there and now only two remain — Little Bear and Culebra Peaks — but I will have to save those chapters for another year.

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