This summer has not been one filled with peak-bagging for yours truly. Instead, until now I was totally focused on training for the Ouray 100 and getting down to the San Juans to run/hike on the course. Now that I've got a little break before my next big ultrarunning challenge, I'm really pleased that I was able to go and complete some long, technical days adventuring around new mountains. I've been wanting to tackle the traverse from Little Bear to Blanca and between the Crestones since last Fall, when I first ventured to the Sangre de Cristos. Neither disappointed, both in terms of fun and the challenge they presented.
I've been lucky that in moving to Grand Junction, I almost immediately found an awesome running partner in my good friend Blake, who in addition to wanting to go after lofty objectives like these traverses, also paced me for 20 or so miles in Ouray. He has more technical climbing experience than I, so it was great to have him providing input and more often than not, leading the way through some of the confusing phases of the traverses.
Some history on these two objectives I'll be talking about: Gerry Roach, a world renowned mountaineer, designated four connecting ridges between Colorado 14ers as "Grand Traverses." They are between El Diente and Mount Wilson, the Maroon Bells, Little Bear and Blanca, and Crestone Peak and Crestone Needle. Prior to this recent outing to the Sangre de Cristos, I had completed the traverse between El Diente and Mount Wilson, widely considered the easiest of the four. After having completed the traverse in the Crestones and between Little Bear and Blanca, and knowing what I know about Maroon Bells, I can say almost certainly that the designation of easiest is correctly given to El Diente and Wilson.
Little Bear to Blanca
In Gerry Roach's book on Colorado's 14ers, he claims that the "Hourglass" a feature encountered while climbing up to Little Bear, is the most dangerous spot on any 14er. After having climbed through it, I would agree.
Blake and I started from the bottom of Lake Como road at 2am. The road is an arduous approach, about six miles long with around 3,500 feet of vertical gain. After that six miles, you find yourself at the base of Little Bear with lots more climbing to do over a relatively small distance. We arrived at Lake Como still in the dark and got a little turned around going up the first scree field to gain Little Bear's southern ridge. Luckily for us, some headlamps of other climbers were visible far above on the mountain, and we basically just made a b-line for their position and it worked out in the end.
After gaining the ridge, we connected with the two climbers whose headlamps guided our path and hiked in the early dawn light over easy terrain toward the Hourglass. A few groups were behind us and Blake and I, having a long day ahead of us were not too eager to wait for everyone to climb the Hourglass all at once. We decided to go ahead of the rest of the groups because what was visible on the pitch looked like solid rock. On our way up, we remarked to each other that it didn't seem nearly as dangerous as described. Only when we rounded a ledge and found ourselves on a small bench above the crucial choke point, did we realize that a large, loose scree field was directly above the small funnel through which everyone was forced to climb.
We chose the responsible option of waiting for the groups below us to get out of the line of fire of possible loose rocks before going onward. It's not my favorite thing to do, waiting for people climbing at a different pace to myself, but it was definitely the right thing to do. After about 10 minutes of sitting around and trying not to move and dislodge any rocks, the groups below rounded the ledge on which we waited and we could again continue our ascent.
Without the danger of loose rocks falling directly where climbers must go, the Hourglass is a very fun climb. The rock, until the end, is mostly solid and even in the loose scree section toward the top, we were careful enough that we didn't dislodge anything to endanger climbers toward the bottom.
Arriving at the summit of Little Bear is an abrupt and somewhat surprising moment. You don't really know you are even that close until all of a sudden you are there. We spent very little time resting on Little Bear and almost immediately started the traverse. In my opinion, the crux of the entire ridge is the initial down climb from Little Bear. Perhaps it is because I have little, short legs, but I found myself barely able to get my right foot in the hold to make my way down. But it was doable, if certainly exposed with no mistakes allowed. The quarter mile after the down climb also requires some challenging moves around and over exposed knife edges.
I read in trip reports prior to attempting the ridge that the traverse offers no warm up period and just throws you in on the deep end and I totally agree. You are immediately confronted with a narrow ridge with 1,000+ foot drops on either side. This is some of the most consequential terrain you can find and there is no room for error. A plus side of the narrowness of the ridge is that route finding is really not an issue; there are simply not many options.
As Blake and I made our way along the ridge, taking our time and testing each and every hold we relied on, the exposure became less of a factor as our brains just simply got used to it. At first I was trying not to look down or too far around me but about a half hour into the traverse I felt much more comfortable. I like to say that "you fall, you die" terrain forces you into a flow state and blocks all unimportant thought from entering consciousness. It's a cool feeling and one that is difficult to attain any other way.
After the first quarter mile, we arrived at what was the only Class 5 portion of the ridge, a ledge system that required some real testing of hand and foot holds. As with the rest of the ridge, there was no room for error, but thankfully the rock here was solid.
Following the Class 5 portion of the traverse, the terrain eases in difficulty, if not in consequence. "The Highway," a section of the ridge that is about four feet wide, truly does feel as easy and stress free as a ridge can be and we made much better time going across this small section than at any other point on the traverse.
The only challenge left, to our knowledge, were the catwalks toward the end of the ridge approaching Blanca. In Go-Pro footage, the catwalks look perilously narrow and sometimes a little looser than one would like. We found, however, that the catwalks were ultimately walkable, narrow sections of ridge with mostly solid rock. Really, it was like being on a one foot wide trail with death on all sides. It sounds scarier than it really is and we made good time getting across these sections.
When we finally got to the last pitch up to Blanca, it was a relief to be free from exposure and to be doing some simple hiking. It felt great to rest on the summit of Blanca for a few minutes, having done the traverse with no breaks in about two hours. Looking back, the moves on the traverse are not particularly difficult but they are as high consequence as you will find anywhere. At no point on the ridge could one take a tumble and survive.
We both took a moment to enjoy our achievement, eat some food, and hydrate before heading over on the easy connecting ridge to Ellingwood Point. At Ellingwood, both of us were feeling tired and were not looking forward to descending loose talus down to Lake Como and then the six miles on the road. The miles back to the camper did not pass by quickly, but we made it down and both felt accomplished for what was about a 19 mile day that took a little more than 11 hours. We refueled for a bit before heading out to the Crestones and after arriving at the 4wd trailhead at 5pm, we quickly ate dinner and were asleep by 6pm in anticipation of another early start.
The Crestones
We had a slightly later start at 3am for the Crestones because we knew it was going to be a little shorter of a day and we didn't want to do any of the consequential route finding on the mountains in the dark. The extra hour of sleep compared to the day before was also a bonus. Hiking up South Colony Road toward the lakes, my legs were a little stiff but about an hour in to the trip I started feeling much better.
Arriving at South Colony Lake, we were a bit confused as to exactly where the trail up to Broken Hand Pass started, but after a few minutes of wandering around in the dark trying not to make too much noise and wake up some backpackers, we found the sign directing us to the Crestone Needle standard route. Both routes to the Peak and the Needle start the same way, by climbing up to Broken Hand Pass. The climb up to the pass was more arduous and difficult than I expected, filled with loose scree and dirt and there were more than a few times I ended up on all fours as my feet slipped out below me. We took a quick break at the top of the pass to enjoy the sunrise before dropping back down about 800 feet to Cottonwood Lake where the route up to Crestone Peak truly starts. Dropping down elevation can be demoralizing, but both Blake and I were feeling good at this point and we stopped at the lake to take a few swigs of ice cold mountain water from our filters before starting up the iconic Red Gully on the Peak.
The Red Gully is awesome. It's very steep with easy, class 3 climbing and it was a blast to get up. There's not much loose rock but there were climbers below us so we were careful to avoid scree if at all possible. Following the solid rock, we climbed the 2,000+ feet to the small notch between Crestone Peak and North Crestone before dashing up the final summit pitch. Though it wasn't windy in the gully, the summit of Crestone Peak was unpleasantly breezy and cold and we did not spend much time relaxing at the top. The view was great and I would have liked to enjoy it more, but we were traveling light and wearing shorts and thin base layers so stopping was not much of an option.
For the Crestone Traverse, you have to drop back down the Red Gully a ways to a well cairned portion of trail off to hiker's left. It's important to find the right entrance to the traverse, but it's not particularly challenging to pick out the route. The beginning of the traverse to the Needle is easygoing and not challenging. The path is well marked with cairns and there is not much scrambling or exposure. There are a few times you have to use your hands to cross rock ribs, but mostly you are hiking below the ridge and looking up at stunning rock walls and gendarmes.
When reading about the traverse, one of the most noticeable and talked about landmarks is the Black Gendarme. We arrived suddenly at the locale and we were pleasantly surprised at our fast progress across to the Needle. In the picture to the right, the route goes directly between the gendarme and the rock wall on the right. The crack looks small in this picture, but I assure you it's plenty large. The only class 5 move of the whole traverse is within the crack and it was more complicated than the rest of the traverse, but without real consequence or exposure if you messed it up. Even so, you do end up having to get pretty much lateral with your feet and your hands stretched to get over the bulge in the rock. Once again, it was a blessing to have Blake along, leading with all of his climbing experience.
After passing the bulge and taking a moment to enjoy the view of Humboldt Peak from the ridge, there is a small knife edge to cross and then some good scrambling with solid holds to get back to a nice ledge system that leads you to the crux of the route. Thankfully, the Crestones are made of some of the best rock I've ever experienced. It's called conglomerate rock and it looks like someone mixed up some concrete with smaller rocks and then threw it all together in the shape of a mountain. It's interesting, and it makes for fun climbing on the bulbous protrusions.
The crux of the traverse is the last pitch up to the summit of the Needle. It's incredibly steep and a fall would almost certainly be fatal. We made the mistake of not going quite far enough left and ended up climbing some class 5 terrain that was totally doable but certainly required some meditative breaths on my part. Testing every hold carefully, we made our way slowly up the pitch and breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the top.
Once again, the summit of the Needle was windy and cold and so we started our descent soon after reaching the top. We knew that the descent off the Needle would entail the most difficult and consequential route finding of the day, but thankfully we had a couple other climbers who had just come up the route to follow on the way down. The gully you start descending is mostly solid rock (just like the rest of the Crestones) and isn't too difficult. It is steep and we were doing some good crab walking, but it wasn't stressful. The crucial bit of route finding is picking the right point to traverse hiker's left across to another gully so that you avoid cliffs at the bottom of the mountain. Currently, this left turn is marked with a small piece of pink tape that is hard to miss amongst the brown and green of the rocks. I think we would have found the turn just fine, but we were still thankful to have the climbers ahead of us to follow.
There's a small class 3 down climb with solid holds after the turn but that's the last real piece of technical terrain we encountered on the Needle. The ridge connecting the Needle to Broken Hand Pass was fun to traverse and we took our time looking at the Lord of the Rings-esque scenery around us. Rock pinnacles jut up from green, grassy fields and expansive vistas open up around every corner. It was a lot of fun and stunningly beautiful.
Going back down Broken Hand Pass was not particularly enjoyable as it was loose and scree filled, but it didn't take as long as I'd expected it to be and soon we were back down at South Colony Lake looking up at the awesome view of the Crestone Needle. We took a break to drink from the streams, although the water was not as cold as either of us wanted it to be. Both of us felt good and we jogged down the road back to the camper in less than an hour. Compared to running down Lake Como Road, South Colony felt pleasant both in terms of the technicality of the trail and it's length. We arrived back at the car about 8.5 hours after we started that morning and once again took some time to bask in the accomplishment of a long day in the alpine.
Conclusions
We picked great days to go climb technical traverses. The weather was awesome, temperatures were not too hot or cold, and it was not all that crowded. Both traverses were lots of fun and feel like real achievements.
For the Little Bear to Blanca traverse, I don't have any advice that another trip report won't give you. It's not all that difficult in terms of technical climbing or route finding, but the exposure is real and you certainly don't want to mess with that ridge if there's even a chance it's not totally dry. Nor do you want to find yourself in the middle of it with a storm approaching. Like I said earlier, I thought the crux of the route was the initial down climb from Little Bear, but some climbers we talked to on Blanca who had also completed the traverse thought the hardest part was the catwalks (which both Blake and I thought were no big deal at all). So depending on what type of climber you are and what you're comfortable with in terms of exposure, you might feel completely differently to myself or anybody else as to what the hardest part of the ridge might be.
As for the Crestones, the traverse is really pretty simple and well marked with cairns. The one mandatory class 5 move is not all that difficult and doesn't come with a lot of exposure. My only piece of advice for anyone trying to attempt the route is to make sure you go as far left as possible at the last wall up to the Needle. If I were to do it again I would not take the same line Blake and I chose, not because it was too difficult, but because there was an easier option available. I would also make sure you study the route on the Needle closely because if you did not make the correct left turn from the initial gully on the descent, you will find yourself in very unfriendly terrain.
Overall I am really pleased with two long, fun days in the mountains and to have crossed three more 14ers off my list. I find myself wanting it to be winter so that I can go ski the Red Gully and enjoy the Crestones in a different season. It was great to get some technical terrain under my belt for the year after having solely been focused on hiking/running up and downhill for my race in Ouray. Now that I've gotten my first big peaks of the season I want to do more before I have to start upping my mileage for my 150 in October. All days in the mountains are good ones, and now that I've been to the Crestones, I find myself wanting to go back already. They are unique mountains in a state full of special areas and I recommend a visit.
Comentarios