Jennings Creek Basin Trees

Love the colors and patterns on dead trees weathered in the Colorado mountains. These are from Jennings Creek Basin in the Sawatch Range near Poncha Springs.

Reminds me of Dragon scales.

Images for 14ers.com

A Grizzly Sunset and Moonrise

A few photos of our hike of Grizzly Peak, 13,988, a Centennial Peak in the Sawatch Range.

Sunset and the Elk Range, sun setting just left of Castle peak

Sunset and the Elk Range, sun setting just left of Castle peak, from the summit ridge to Grizzly.

Moonrise over the Sawatch Range

Frustration of Turning Back

The second band of rain.

Even when you don’t summit a 14er the views can be gorgeous. Yankee Boy Basin might be one of the prettiest places in Colorado—waterfalls, ponds, wild flowers, mountain vistas…

We planned on climbing the Class 3 Route up Mt. Sneffels.

The weather report we saw said a chance of rain after 9 a.m. I’m guessing that was wrong, or we didn’t get the updated report.

We planned for a 4:30 a.m. start. Ended up being 5 a.m. at the lower TH.

Also, we could have driven up farther into the basin instead of stopping at the lower trailhead. We wouldn’t have gone all the way up, just to the sign that says “4wd Short wheelbase.” Would have been enough to take some time off.

And I took us off route, wrong fork in the road. But that probably only cost us 10 minutes, if that.

We took the Blue Lakes cutoff trail from the road instead of hiking to the 4wd TH.

Wright Lake and dark clouds above Sneffels' summit, center.
The saddle is the low point on the left side of the ridge

The clouds were obvious in the sky, even in the dark. As the sun began to rise, it looked like there might be some gaps. But the darkest clouds were still to our west, the direction we were heading.

Our first goal was the saddle/ridge to Blue Lakes. After we passed Wrights Lake we got our first rain shower. It wasn’t hard or long, but enough to wet everything down. As we continued to hike west, we made our first decision, a change of plans around 6:00 a.m. Our thought was the weather was coming in early. We’d skip the Class 3 route, which was probably wet due to the current drizzle.  Which meant we wouldn’t be hiking to the saddle.

We turned north and hiked across grass and rocks to reach the main trail just before the route splits. We would go up the Class 2 gully, which was loose, steep and not very fun.  The clouds were moving, but still looked thick. Given the forecast we knew, this would probably the fastest way to avoid the morning rain predicted.

Up the gully, and the clouds to the west continued to grow dark. And then we saw the rain coming. We reached the top of the first gully at about 13,500. Decision time, to go up or descend.

A father-son team was descending the second gully from the summit. I asked what the weather looked like at the top. He said wet.

Weather coming in, again. 

In the mean time, six people were going up a head of us. A group of four passed us at the transition from the first to the second gully and several more people were coming up the first gully.

After a few minutes of discussion, looking at the rain coming our way, and knowing the weather called for rain after 9 a.m., a couple hours away, we decided to go down. The wind kicked up as we started toward the basin.

Halfway down the gully, we got pelted with sleet. We knew then we made the right call. The brunt of the storm went just south of the Yankee Boy Basin, with some thunder.

As we reached the bottom of the gully, we saw more people were coming up the trail. And little did I know, a friend was heading up to the Class 3 route on the side trail.

We looked back toward the summit. BLUE SKIES.

Sneffels, center, and blue skies.

What? Yes, BLUE SKIES.

For a moment I thought about heading back up the mountain.

I kept turning around as I walked down toward the 4wd TH and the road.

Hiker summit silhouettes with BLUE SKIES.

Frustration, even some anger. (Lack of sleep makes me diva like, needed a Snickers.)

Rethinking the hike, this was all about timing.

Sometimes those predawn starts are what prevent you from summiting.

IF, yes IF, we would have started on time, or driven farther up, or not taken a wrong turn…. We would have been on the saddle (or close enough to continue to it) and then would have been able to see to the west, the direction of the bad weather. And I assume we would have been able to see the blue sky behind the two storm systems that crossed over us.

OR, with those time elements, if we would have chosen to skip the Class 3 route after the rain, and changed plans to hike the Class 2 route, we probably would have been in the second gully and not even have seen the second storm system coming. So we would have continued up to the summit.

OR, if we would have started later, 6, 7 or even 8, we would have seen the blue skies.

Yes, it’s frustrating to think you are making wise decisions and for those choices to be incorrect. They weren’t bad choices. Being conservative in most mountaineering situations is a good thing. But not on this day.

This is the seventh time I’ve turned back from a summit attempt due to weather, timing or other situations. I have more than 100 14er and 13er summits, so my success rate is pretty high. I realize if I’m going to be serious about hiking and climbing mountains, there will be times I’ll have to turn back. The reasoning doesn’t lessen the frustration, but the real goal is to make it down safely.

Mt. Sneffels, we’ll be back. We’ll climb the Class 3 route like originally planned and have another wonderful day in the beautiful San Juans. (Unless it rains again.)

Mt. Antero, 14,269, July 21, 2013

Aluminum "Brew"haha Adjustment

For years I had a hard stance against drinking any beer that came in a can. Not just against the canned version, but against any brewed beverage that sold a variety in a can.

It’s not a dislike of aluminum or some kind of social justice protest. It was the fact that all the mass produced garbage beers come in cans, so that was a very solid line I could draw in my mind about my tastes. It comes in a can; it must be from Miller, Coors or Busch/Bud.

In other words, I am a beer snob.

I only drink micro brewed beers. It’s a taste thing. I don’t drink a lot, so it’s never been about buying mediocre to bad beer to save some cash. It’s rare if I finish a six-pack in a weekend. If I do, I’m usually camping.

Due to some recent changes in the industry, I’ve had to adjust (not remove) my personal policy.

I’m still a beer snob.

But I’ll drink a select few beers out of a can.

Micro brews are distributing beer in cans. Avery Brewing in Boulder, OskarBlues Brewery in Longmont and Eddyline Brewery in Buena Vista, Snake River Brewing in Jackson Hole to name a few.

Two times this summer I’ve bought canned bear. The convenience of a can is so nice and the beer that comes in it makes it even more special.

(To let you in on a secret… last year I bought wine in a box. Not that Franzia crap, but a Bota Box.   It’s nice to toss the Bota Box (500ml) in a backpack or in the camper and not have to worry about shards of broken glass. Bota makes some drinkable wines, which makes the convenient box tolerable.)

And that is what this is about, drinkability.

I don’t like every micro brew or every wine. But there are enough varieties in cans that I can find something I’ll appreciate. Though, it seems most of the liquor stores in my area are heavy on the IPAs in cans. Very few other types of beer are carried. But if I’m only looking for canned beers a few times a year, I think I can manage to drink a cold IPA by the river or on a hike. When I’m done I can crush that can and have more room in my pack. Cans are easier to open, especially when you forget the church key. (A Suburban seat belt does kind of fit around a bottle cap when the need arises.)

My wife had the same mindset about canned beers. When I brought the cans home she couldn’t believe it. She tasted, and instantly disliked it. It was a Pale Ale. She hates pale ales. She has a very limited taste for beer. She loves the wheats. After a few minutes of conversation, she admitted she would drink a White Rascal out of can if it was cold and she was at the end of a trail or on a 14er. I think she might even drink a canned Rascal on the patio, but not sure yet.

A well brewed beer dug out of the bottom of the ice chest on a hot day is a wonderful pleasure. It’s even better when that beer comes in a bottle. (If nothing else, bottles are easier to stick in a koozie.) With quality beer now being distributed in cans, I’m willing to shift my thought process just a bit for some hoppy goodness and a bit of convenience.

Fly Rods and Old Friends

I knew back in the summer exactly what I wanted to buy at the Denver Fly Fishing Show in January.

A 2-weight rod.

I've enjoyed hiking into Colorado’s back country in search of the beautiful... secluded mountain creeks and brook trout. A 2-weight rod would be perfect for such endeavors.  I actually went into a local fly shop this fall to buy one I had spotted. But it was gone.  No worries. At the fly show I set out to find all the vendors with 2-weights. I spent a lot a time at the casting ponds.

Mystic, Allen, Orvis, TFO, Hardy, Scott, Sage, Greys and others were placed in my waving hand. The only hindrance was my price range. I even got cash before I left the mountains for the big city so I wouldn’t go over budget. Oh, I eyed several that were beyond the cash in my pocket. You can feel the quality difference in your fingers as the line is laid out on the water. But I couldn’t justify spending that much money on a new fly rod that I will probably only use a few times a year.

My favorites were the Mystic and the Scott fiberglass. But both were out of my price range. My thoughts were on a seven and half foot, 3 or 4-piece rod. But after casting a 6 foot, I opened up to that option.  I almost went with a 6 foot, 3 weight fiberglass Hardy. But I was persistent on a 2 weight.

I narrowed it down to the Allen and an Orvis (the Clearwater, not the Superfine). I went back and casted each twice. Short casts. Long casts. Roll Casts. It was the last day of the show and deals were in the making. The guys from Breckenridge Outfitters would take 15% off the rod. The Allen boys still had a better price, but it was a two piece. Time to think about that feel of the rod. How it pulled on the back cast, how it loaded and released the energy to stretch line over the water.

I pulled out the cash and handed it the guys from Breck. With a new rod I needed other gear…reel and line. I have a small Hardy reel I think will work, so just needed some line. Was about to go to the Rio booth, but the boys from Breck didn’t want to let me go or for them to carry too much stuff back up the mountain. They made me a great deal on a new 2-weigth fly line. I also got an as great a deal on a new Brodin Ghost net to replace the one I broke into three pieces on my recent trip to Wyoming’s Miracle Mile.
With rod and net in hand, I finished my shopping. Not only did I get what I wanted, I was surprisingly able to buy it all with the cash I had. Those late Sunday afternoon deals can really work out at the Denver Fly Show.

Thoughts of a summer visit to Lost Creek Wilderness is already taking my mind to beautiful places.

But there is more.

I was able to hang out with two friends I hadn’t seen in years. Among the vendors was Natural Retreats, who now owns South Fork Outfitters.  I spent two summers guiding and working at the fly shop many years ago. Jonathan L., a fellow guide, was in the booth for Natural Retreats. He’s working on the business side instead of in a drift boat these days. Then I saw Shawn L. who used to be my boss at South Fork. He’s with Yellow Dog Fly Fishing Adventures now. Both are excellent fisherman and I learned a great deal from both of them. Greetings and old stories. Questions of who’s doing what these days and how are the kids? Great to catch up with these guys. And now thoughts are forming of a fishing trip up north to the South Fork and to flowing waters in Montana.