Quick Mayflower Pilgrimage: Crystal Peak and Mayflower Hill

Crystal Peak (13852')
Mayflower Hill (12416')









After Brandon's Saturday night Leadville Run, and another great day of weather in the mountains, Nick and I, along with Andy Gisler, decided to take advantage of another mellow running/hiking opportunity before wrapping up the weekend.
First, though, we watched a replay of the women's Olympic Marathon race, drank some coffee, and hung out a bit, before finally ambling out to the mountains just before noon. But what a leisurely Sunday!

On tap was a ridge run Centennial 13er combo of Atlantic and Pacific ("Coast-to-Coast") combined with Crystal Peak. In just over 8.5 miles, we'd have a short run/hike into the lovely Mayflower Gulch, and then a straightforward Class 2 hike up to the Crystal-Atlantic saddle, before hitting C-P-A. I've enjoyed visiting the gulch previously in winter. The weather was cooperating, and we were all game for jogging and power hiking after the previous day's near-40 miles at elevation.

At least, I thought I was.

After just over 10 minutes on the trail, we bushwhacked across the creek, finding relatively easy passage through the willows and into the trees, onto the shoulder of Mayflower Hill. Skirting below it, we continued onto larger talus fields and then sidehilled below Pacific's summit, eventually getting below the Pacific-Crystal saddle. We headed up the saddle, which had one false summit lump and some impressive notchy views from the top:


And then headed up to the Crystal summit.

Somewhere along the way, though, the previous day..2 days...week's training caught up with me. Standing with both feet on a large rock, I felt it wobble, only to look down and see that it was completely stationary. My legs were not too achey, but were shaking on the rocks, and my head was swimming a bit. Not sure if one was causing the other. I ate some extra food, not feeling hungry or otherwise low on calories, but it didn't make it better. I could still move fine, just slowly. By the time I caught up at the Crystal summit, I told the guys that I was going to head down while they continued. I hated having to bail -- especially on a particular route I was excited to do -- and watched enviously as they headed up towards the cool looking notch on the top of Pacific Peak. But I knew I reached my limit for the week. If I were solo, I could have gone slower and/or taken a nap, but with group dynamics I had crossed the line from being slow to being a potential liability if I pushed anything harder (since I knew the route down was easy and would only get easier).

After a bit, though, it was actually kind of cool to watch 2 red dots proceed upward on the mountain, and track their progress. I took my time heading down off of Crystal as I kept watching their progress to Pacific. Soon enough, they disappeared around the other side.

I headed down deliberately off of Crystal, and a bit lower off of the talus and onto the tundra. Some wildflowers were still showing, and I began to feel better, enough to jog along the tundra towards the rockier saddle of Mayflower Hill. I got closer to another group that had descended off of Pacific, but I was below them near the Mayflower Saddle, so I headed up towards them. In hindsight, the quickest way is to stay low along the Pacific Creek drainage and only really climb below the Mayflower-Pacific saddle and Pacific-Crystal saddle -- essentially what Roach suggests in the 13er book.

Taking my time along the tundra and boulder fields, I was able to appreciate small details that I normally don't, such as some of the striped and smoother rocks along the creek, impressive larger pieces of quartz, and some igneous rocks as well. Along the boulders, I had to be careful, especially at face level(!), for spiders that cast a single tripwire between rocks; once the line was disturbed, the bulbous spiders dropped quickly to the ground and scurried away.

I was feeling better by the time I re-climbed the Mayflower Saddle, and I had a clear view of Atlantic. Scanning the ridge, I finally made out 2 dots just coming off of the summit, with another pair just about off of the ridge. I was happy to know of their success and being able to estimate their arrival time, so to make lemonade out of my otherwise single-summit, I made the extra effort to head up to the summit of Mayflower Hill. And, man, the 13ers are getting crowded too -- why not enjoy an uncrowded 12er?




The Hill has a faint trail on top, and a few candidate cairns vying for true summit status. I enjoyed the views from the top, knowing that I could either retreat the way I came, or ride the ridge as long as possible towards the highway. I chose the latter, and had a nice easy jog across tundra. Before dropping to treeline, I stayed high on some balder patches of grass, wanting to drop into the forest as late as possible. I feared a bit of a slog in the last 3/4 mile or so, but it turned out to be a pleasant surprise of occasionaly game trails, logging road, well-spaced trees, and otherwise clean forest floor that was relatively free of detritus. That is, it was possible to zig-zag and jog down through the trees, headed toward the highway and parking lot. I wouldn't be able to retrace these steps on an ascent, but I'd definitely recommend considering it for a return route.

I was still early enough to chat with a guy in the parking lot about various hikes, and get some beers ready for the other guys. In short order, everyone was back. I need to return for some Coast-to-Coast action another time, but was happy to have enjoyed the views from Crystal and Mayflower.

Hooray for (Mt.) Ouray

Mt. Ouray, 13971 ft
East Ridge route, Class 2, 9 miles/4300' gain RT

Again, hoping to see more aspen, J and I took a (long) day-trip down to Mt. Ouray.

Mt. Ouray is a centennial 13er at the Southern end of the Sawatch range. I had it on 'the list' for awhile since it was scenic, high, and uncrowded, and had an interesting route through bristlecone forest, an open mountain cirque, and then a gorgeous ridge to the top.
Still, I had debated the night before on mountains and routes: J didn't want something too steep and long or scrambly; I have a perpetual aversion to crowds; and I wasn't sure if there were even any significant aspen in the area (I only knew about the bristlecone), and how impressive they would be (yeah, that's how picky I am), since there aren't enough pictures of Mt. Ouray in the fall. But, I found some great recommendations and pictures of Marshall Pass Rd, and luckily, it ended up being fabulously gorgeous. Unluckily, it ended up being steeper and slower than advertised: partly Roach's fault (he called it Class 1+, which I told J and based timing assumptions, though there was non-trivial talus hopping, which is why Summitpost calls it Class 2), partly our fault (we ended up going down more talus on the way down while chatting and not paying attention), and mostly my fault (because I have a selective memory on things like this and tend to downplay length/difficulty!)

Anyway, for the second wknd in a row, we headed down 285, south past Poncha Springs.
Now that it was daylight, with a waning gibbous moon waning gibbously, we could see Mt. Ouray from several miles away.



Nice. I like mountains that look cool from a distance, have a decent prominence, and when you hike in the direction of their best presentation, so you can stare at it for hours.

Two other cars were in the small parking lot at the Gray's Creek trail. Within the first half mile, we saw a couple and their dog, from the Springs, heading back to the TH. They had camped their for the night, not knowing it was a trailhead, then heard about the trail (presumably from the people in the other car), decided to hike up a bit, then turned around when the trail became lost at numerous creek crossings. I showed him the map and stats, they were in good spirits and decided to go mt. biking instead anyway, but J articulated to me, later, what I was also thinking about waking up and randomly deciding to do a hike of indeterminate length and difficulty without a map, etc. (Then again, I guess we did that for millions of years, and as long as you turn around when things get dicey...)

Indeed, the trail crossed the creek a few times right around a mile, and pretty much disappeared, but we stayed mostly North and followed the creek right up, and after 10-15 minutes a trail was easily discernible again. We wound our way through some nice aspen, steadily climbing upward in through the gulch:


J started asking if the steepness relented -- it's pretty much 1k/mile the whole way -- and wasn't too happy with how hot it was for the end of September, when I was paranoid about having gloves, hat, etc. I tried to offer my sympathy, but since I was shirtless already, it probably wasn't too helpful. Permanent note to J: non-cotton t-shirt or tank-top is *never* a bad layer to have!

Alright, the trail got a little rockier as we got closer to treeline. Then, we reached the famous bristlecone forest, something I was looking forward to...



...in no small part because it reminds me of "The Legend of Zelda"


(BTW, I couldn't find any images of that online, so I had to spend 15 minutes going online to play it, then get a screen capture, just for your enjoyment. OH, and, while I did my capture, I only had one heart left, so the game kept beeping at me. You're welcome.)

Just a bit further up, and the entire cirque was visible, called the "Devil's Armchair."



Mt. Ouray is the high point in the middle. This route finds the easiest path up to the saddle to the left of the summit. To the right (Northeast of Mt. Ouray) is a big heap of scree that can serve as an alternative route along its shoulder. A descent there would make a fabulous Tour d'Ouray, but J called "no scree" so we didn't head that way.

Anyway, the half-mile grunt up to the saddle is a mixture of talus, faint trail, and tundra ramp. Take your pick!

We wound our way up to the ridge, leisurely. Did I mention there was essentially no wind and no clouds? Awesome weather. Once on the ridge, there was a faint climbing trail that zigzagged through the talus. Some bad news, though: several obvious false summits. I tried to remind J how quickly each little hump went by, 10-15 minutes or so, then the next one. Just moving forward. The trail actually winds around the backside of the ridge now, exposing new views to the West. Here, we actually saw a group of people descending. I apologized for 'crowding' the mountain, but we all laughed at the great day. And pushed forward, one hump of talus at a time.

Finally, the summit was achieved.


We shared the summit with a group of women, friends from various parts of the state that met to climb some 13ers the day before (Webster Pass ridge run to Horseshoe), then had taken the East ridge route (back side of the cirque) up to Mt. Ouray, while their respective husbands were toiling away at respective home projects.

J and I were able to sit right on the summit for half an hour, enjoying leftover pizza and Red Bull. Heaven!

J's spirits were better now and she enjoyed the descent, which is good as I worried I had pushed her into a longer hike and she wasn't enjoying it. I told her we went to 13,970+ feet, so basically 14 -- she had thought the whole time that we were on a 14er (since I was telling her about advantages/disadvantages of some options the night before). I told her we were less than 30 feet short -- also, note the lack of people -- did that bother or affect anything at all? "No," she replied, and I love her for it. Then she admitted enjoying the hike, but she's ready for some more "rolling, over the river and through the woods" hikes instead. I know what she means.

As I mentioned, we ended up going past the saddle and just decided to head straight down the talus. No biggie, a little slower but somewhat shorter and more interesting. Back into the gulch by line of sight, and we picked the trail up again.

End of September, and we were both sunburned! We looked forward to reaching treeline in this direction as well.
Now it was afternoon, and the aspens were even brighter:




Even though it was windless, it seemed like the trail was more covered in solid leaves, so you could "sense" a trail was there more than you could actually see it.




Back to the car, turns out almost 7 hours went by. We enjoyed even more views of the aspen...


...before the planned apres-hike food and drink at Eddyline. Yum!

A great day in the mountains with my favorite girl, how lucky can I be, 2 days before our 8th wedding anniversary!

"Old Baldy" Pt. 13038 IPW

"Old Baldy" Pt. 13038
Indian Peaks Wilderness
~7.75 miles RT, ~4.5 hours



With predicted high temps in the 100s, there was no doubt on where to go: above treeline. However, we also an appointment in Denver mid-afternoon. Working backward from that, visiting Indian Peaks wilderness seemed like a good choice. Then, I decided to check out the 4th of July TH, since we've never been there and it's free; and the plan was to hike the Arapahoe Glacier trail to the saddle between "Old Baldy" and S. Arapahoe, then picking a mountain based on time and desire.

We left Fort Collins at 5am on Saturday, and got to the TH at 6:45. Some cars there already, but it's a campground, and wasn't too bad. We ran into 3 people in the first half mile, we passed 2 of them and the solo guy passed us; after that, we had the trail to ourselves.

Wildflowers of all colours were on display:


We passed alternated between dense forest canopy, stream and waterfall crossings, thick wildflowers, and amazing views.


A tall waterfall roared in the distance. At 2 miles, we hit the Arapahoe Pass junction, and the old 4th of July mine, which was a buried pit and some old equipment.

We took the right turn to switchback up toward the saddle. The trail was nice and well-maintained. Finally, at the saddle, we were able to peer down at Arapahoe Glacier, as well as getting great views of the Arapahoe traverse. S. Arapahoe by itself looked like ~45 minutes of steady scrambling (shown behind me in this picture), truly a legitimate and worthy mountain, but we did the gentle x-country walkup to "Old Baldy" instead.



And while we saw a few folks heading up S. Arapahoe, we had "Old Baldy" to ourselves. We laid down in the sunshine for a 20 minute nap or so, though I'd sit up every few minutes and look around at the amazing views.

Time to head down, where we saw ~40-50 people coming up, along the lines of what I expected in a popular area.

Now, back at the car just before noon, we reached the crux of the route: navigating through a cluster of traffic. I wiggled my way out of the parking lot while some guy waited for my spot, waited a couple minutes for a cop and another guy to finish a conversation through their car windows, then headed down the road clogged with park cars to the Hessie TH. There, traffic was backed up, while an old woman "took charge" by demanding everyone back up the hill so she could get through. To make it worse, one of the SUVs was driven by a tentative young woman who couldn't back up her car to save her life. (Literally -- these are the folks that swing a sickle six inches from my shoulder unaware when I'm on my bike. Oy.)

To the rescue? Scott and Anton! No, literally, these guys helped direct the girl's car so she could back up. I saw them on the way past, and when I was waiting, said "Hello" -- both were incredibly personable and friendly, and were equally perplexed about all the traffic in the mountains. (Coincidentally, someone on 14ers.com posted a comment on the traffic/parking on that day as well, so something unusual must have been up?) It was nice meeting them briefly, sounds like they had a nice run as well.

Generally a great, moderate hike, with awesome views, wildflowers, waterfalls, mountains, and glaciers. I can see a future trip involving the Arapahoe Traverse, as well as popping over Arapahoe Pass.

Square Top from Guanella Pass

Square Top Mountain
13794 feet
~8 miles RT hiking, ~2300ft gain
Class 1/Class 2
Mapmyrun Route




It's June, it's hot out, and it's time to get above treeline!
I wasn't convinced the northern Front Range was melted out yet, so I looked to the south for something a little more snow-free. Recent conditions on 14ers.com were quite favorable, so we left Fort Collins at 0-dark-30 (4:30) to get to Guanella Pass by 7am; of course, taking the long way off of Hwy 285 due to continued construction from the Georgetown side. This time, even later than agreed upon the day before, was met with some wailing and gnashing of teeth, but in the end it was agreed to have been worth it.

Parking at Guanella Pass feels like cheating, since you're already at treeline, but it's a pleasant and scenic drive on the road. I picked Square Top because of alpine lakes, scenery, (relative) solitude, and great views from the top. Still, I didn't know if I'd be able to resist the pull of Mt. Bierstadt, just across the road and 200 feet higher. Since Bierstadt tips the magic 14k mark, it's on the checklist of many, willing to do a summer conga-line. The fact that the West parking lot, near Square Top, only had 1 car on it, helped make the decision, but it was solidified by views of Bierstadt itself: not since Mt. Sherman (which we did attempt but failed to summit) have I seen such an ugly, uninspiring and bulbous mass. (I have heard rumors of Mt. Bross's offensiveness, but have not yet had the misfortune to see it).


So we headed west to Square Top, with a Class 1 trail leading to the 2 Square Top Lakes at the base. The peak is hidden at the beginning of the hike, as you do a decent amount of climbing to get to the lakes, but once you do, a cirque opens up with a variety of options for obtaining the peak. With a name like Square Top, I was worried that its summit might be flat and ugly, but the East face (shown in the first picture) presents a nice point that is particularly attractive when holding snow. An obvious route, then, rolls up the Southeast Face, a consistently steep but non-technical pitch up tundra, with views to the Bierstadt-Evans wilderness and Scott Gomer creek behind us.



As we neared the point (which turned out to be a bit of a false summit), we reached some lingering snow fields, as well as the occupant of the other vehicle at the trailhead. This turned out to be Dan, who came accompanied by the skis on his back, and 2 very energetic Doberman mixes -- sisters, it turns out. We could see the dogs zipping back and forth up above, zipping around him like electrons, turning an easy day into a 5000-foot one. As we got closer, Dan greeted us, getting ready to ski, and we gave a show of being dog-friendly, which meant they could jump on us and lick our faces, and we were cool with that!

I brought my new ice ax with me in order to play a bit. The snowfield here wasn't that steep, and the snow was pretty soft, so I didn't get much momentum on a glissade, but I still got to play around a bit, and enjoyed having the dogs keep me company.













Later, Jessica would play around on the snow a bit as well:



Dan got ready to ski down as we continued up. He remarked the views from the top, all the way out to Mt. of the Holy Cross, whereas the views from Bierstadt were entirely blocked by the Square Top cirque, and we were the only people he had seen on his hike.

Over the false summit, there was one more small bump to the peak, just shy of 13,800 feet. A leap in the air or a raised hand would get you there.

Summit shot:



As advertised, the nearly half-mile long flat summit is big enough for a football game, or just roaming around. As it was, we had the whole area to ourselves, and took a leisurely lunch.

To the West, mountains beyond mountains, including the unmistakable Holy Cross:


Coming back down, we took an improvised cross-country route. One thing I wanted to practice was route selection, being able to tell if what looked safe from afar ended up as you expected it when you got there. There were plenty of options to stay high on the ridge or drop down in various spots, J picked a route that dropped us in the ridge between the 2 lakes. I love hiking with her on a nice day -- I'm pretty sure I even saw her crack a smile on the way down.

On the way back, we saw 3 more people and 2 dogs, for a total of 4 people and 4 dogs, or less than 1 in hour, which meets my introversion threshold. Several of the other folks were just going up to the lakes, which reputedly has decent fly-fishing. All in all, a great hike with the wife! Looking forward to more of these this summer.