For the first time this summer we were able to take a 3 day trip instead of our typical overnight ones. This became both a good and bad thing as we came to find out on the final day and hike of the trip.
Driving through Leadville and entering the heavily treed area amid overcast skies and dozen of campers, we were immediately surprised with how close the trail heads of the 2 highest peaks in Colorado were. After some quick recon at the Massive trailhead at about 10,050 feet, we found a suitable camp spot for the weekend, set up and enjoyed the fire and seclusion.
That is, until we lay down and get a phone call at about 9 p.m. I had been using my phone as an alarm clock since the trusty Beatles' battery had died.. no idea service actually existed way out here.
Awake at 3:30 under the blanket of thousands of stars overhead, we made our way to the trailhead in the dark. As Mel would point out several times this trip, I am much more of a morning person – especially on hiking days.
Headlamp hiking always provides an added sense of adventure. You have to be extra careful not to miss a turn or turn an ankle, and this was the case for the first hour or so of what would become yet another epic – and mildly frustrating – day in the woods. Along the Colorado Trail, which spans across the entire state, we were able to see the faint lights of Leadville in the distance while discussing our future trips including our bike trip across the country next year, a tour of the southwest's national parks along a 600+ mile route, and a potential trek along the Colorado Trail in the near future.
Poking above treeline at nearly 12,000 feet, we were greeted by the sun's early morning rays. The way the sun paints the mountains in such a vivid orange so early in the day has got to be one of my favorite sights along hikes like these. You feel so accomplished having done so much so early, but there is so much more to do.
Why is it I feel more accomplished out here with nothing so early than I do so late in a day back home?
This trail quickly ranked it way higher and higher in my top spots. What starts as an easy Class 1 trail quickly turns into a steep but defined path heading straight up the eastern gully to the saddle between Mt Massive – the actual peak – and south Massive – another summit above at 14,132 feet.
Making great time, we continued up, stopping at landmarks to regroup. This steep hike made for one tough workout. It wasn't long before we started seeing the other groups on the mountain. Our early start put us ahead of many and made for great timing all the way to the summit.
We reached the saddle at 13,900 feet, and the views of EVERYTHING to west finally came into focus for the first time this trip. After a quick pause, we made the final push to the summit of Mt. Massive, 14,421 feet along the rocky path.
The views of the Maroon Bells to the West, Mt. Elbert to the south, Mt. Of the Holy Cross to the north and Leadville nestled in the mountains to the east made this view one worth taking in for a while. Another group arrived right behind us, and we shared stories about other mountains while loading up on calories for the rest of the trip.
The down climb back to the saddle was quick, and we finally saw the rest of the people coming up. None, though, did the next part of the trek with us.
We blazed our own trail along the ridge to the Summit of South Massive, another part of the mountain climbed by peak baggers but not the average hiker. While planning, the rapidly building clouds combined with our fatigue and slight error took us down a 1500 foot scree slide of loose rock and sand – a class 3 or higher climb not anticipated.
We should have stayed high on the ridge, but the gray bottomed clouds had other plans for us, and the tough descent was anything but fun.
Well, maybe it was fun... but tough!
Once in the open valley, we could still see where we had to go. We knew where the trail was and we knew what direction to head.
This area must have been grazing land for cattle or something decades ago. We found a horseshoe in the ground along with a small skeleton of a marmot-like animal. I had a really strange feeling of being watched or something not feeling right on this descent unlike anything I have really felt before.
Following the deer, we kept moving southeast down the valley along our own trail hoping to bisect the trail eventually. And, of course, we finally did after some careful route finding and a tough descent back to 11,000 feet.
The valley we had not anticipated coming down actually may have been the better option for us. Getting lost would have been impossible along that ridge – you are surrounded by 2 trails and a road. But this gave us a chance to blaze our own trail and adventure and see what we walked by 10 hours earlier in the dark. Adventure is, after all, what we look for in these hikes.
Beautiful river crossings and aspen trees went unseen in the early morning hours of our headlamp hike.
We made it back to the trailhead about 12 hours from the time we began and after covering more than 15 miles and 6,000 vertical feet. We cleaned up in the nearby river and relaxed a bit before a group of 3 hikers came out of the woods.
They had been hiking the Colorado trail for 8 days, and their pickup party was in Leadville – about 15 miles away. We agreed to take them into town since we were going anyways. Turns out they were from San Diego and on a mission to eventually hike the whole CT. We talked about good restaurants nearby, dropped them off, and went on our way. Not bad for a first experience with hitch hikers.
Dinner, a beer and a hick-fest in Leadville welcomed us. Motorcycles and rednecks raced up main street while the towns kids looked for trouble. I wonder what there is to do up here if you don't climb mountains? Besides go to the log-cutting demonstration by the forest service...
It was an early night, and soon we were back at our camp site, asleep by 8 o'clock.
With another cell phone awakening, we were up at 4 a.m... or at least I was. Again reminded that I was a morning person, we took down camp and made our way for the trail head for Mt. Elbert – the Highest point in Colorado and the 2nd highest in the lower 48 states – only 70 feet behind Mt. Whitney in California.
We quickly realized this hike would be different. When we pulled into the parking lot, someone was blasting rap from their car. Now, this would be different if 1) they were on an isolated trail or 2) it was turned down so they could here it but nobody else, or better yet... if it wasn't 5 a.m.
But noooo.... they had all doors open, music blasting while people slept in the campground just across the dirt road.
We got out of there fast and, after a careful headlamp portion of switchbacks and steep hills, treeline came into view.
Luckily, it was a beautiful day. The steep terrain would quickly prove to be tough, especially after the day we had one day before. The 4 mile hike climbs over 1000 feet each mile, and at times felt as if you were climbing ladder... a really dirty and rocky ladder. It didn't help any that so many people would be on the trail passing us or slowing us up. At least 10 were ahead of us, and being surrounded by so many that high up was something neither of us had really experienced – even on our attempt at Longs a few weeks ago.
The pictures speak for themselves.
The trail also leads you along a ridge to what you think will be the summit until you realize there is still plenty to climb. False summits are one of the most defeating and painful things to hit, especially when already burned out. Calves and quads burning, we inched up to the surprisingly flat summit where about 40 others were hanging out.
Another unpleasant surprise. There was another popular trail on the south ridge where many came from. And they kept coming!
We made calls because, low and behold, there was cell phone service. People flew kites and watched freaking awesome dogs play on the summit. After some lunch (it was 9 am... our earliest summit yet!), we started our descent away from the hoards of people.
But, to the contrary, there were more coming up like little ants marching up a hill. People of all walks of life and with all levels of experience we trying to summit as clouds built up. Many had a water bottle and no other gear – all a recipe for disaster.
We were now below treeline, and talks of wet blankets and being stressed to pieces paved the way for a new line of inside jokes.
The steep hills of the morning now allowed us to see a lake not too far from the trailhead. As we made our way down and talked about getting a dog, the Australian Shepard/Golden Retriever from the summit passed us. I almost took him...
The parking lot was packed, and we bid farewell to Elbert with no intent on returning any time soon. The amount of people really make this one that should be done during the week.
We parked on the side of the road to attempt to find the lake seen from the summit. Wow... what a sight! Crystal clear water made fish visible 20 feet from the shore. It was so still and so calm, we stood in the water and seemed to be the only thing moving on the entire lake. If it had only been a few degrees warmer, I think this may have turned into a much longer afternoon of swimming and fishing by flashlight...
We were both tired, and decided it was time to bid our trip farewell and begin our 3 hour drive home.
Reflections:
People. I love that so many take to the trails, but I hate it at the same time. Maybe it is greed? Selfishness? Whatever... there is something magical about reaching a summit or cresting treeline when you are the only group out. Even when there are a couple people above or behind you, it is still an amazing feeling of accomplishment and pride. Checking Elbert off the list with so many other people was a new experience for me – not one I care to do again.
La Plata had 2 groups at the summit. Democrat had 1 which we stuck with the rest of the hike. For a long time, we were solo on the Sawtooth. But seeing so many unprepared people just out for a “little” hike, flying kites and dancing at the top was just unsettling. It was loud, and the trailhead looked like a parking lot of a mall. The designated and heavily worn trail was simply too inviting for those without trail etiquette or common sense. That, and it was not nearly the kind of trail you enjoy. I would rather do straight up climbing that walk straight up that kind of trail.
Nothing can be done about it, and it will only get worse. At least there are dozens of other 14ers and countless 13ers and 12s with, normally, 0 people.
The moment you realize you may be “temporarily misplaced.” This is what we live for. This is the kind of hike I love and that makes for great stories and greater memories. That crisis moment when you realize you are not where you should be and need to reinvent and reconcile your route finding. It brings out just who you are as a hiker or even person. Will you simply panic and stop? Will you look around and find yourself? Will you take it personally or learn from it? Coming down the scree and realizing we messed up, it was yet another time we added an unexpected flare to our hike. This is what I like about being outside – trying to figure out problems that actually matter in life like how to get back to shelter by bisecting a trail 2 miles in the distance over the ridge. That is why I think I liked Massive so much more. It was tough, required though and planning, and was less crowded. Elbert was a walk up that required no knowledge at all.
Coming back from a trip. This part sucks. No really... this was the worst part of the whole trip. I would rather be lost or surrounded by dangerously inexperienced hikers. We were caught in traffic at the I-76/25 junction for about 15 mins. It is sickening to think we build traffic and delays into our modern lives. We can sit in it for hours each day, complacently wasting fuel, time and precious life, but when someone can't make our order right or something takes longer than expected, we freak out. Seems like a little off-balanced life to me.
