Mt. Meeker and Long's from Loft Route

Mt. Meeker (13911')
Longs Peak (14259')
Mt. Lady Washington (13,281' / separate trip)



Earlier this summer, I took a couple more trips up Longs Peak. Since both of my previous trips were at least 12 hours long, it was nice to go a little faster and explore a bit more.

On the first trip, I headed up the Loft, tagged Meeker, then headed around to re-join the Homestretch for a Longs summit.
The following week, I joined Dan T. and Phil K. for a fun run up the Keyhole, followed by a summit of Mount Lady Washington on the way down. (The extra summit of MLW was a suprisingly fun addition for scrambling along the ridge and getting great views of the Diamond).

I took some video of Meeker from the Loft, I hope you enjoy it. (The climbing section clips are sped up to shorten the video!) Meeker is fun because summiting from either direction (including the long East ridge) requires travelling across talus on a knife edge. There is a summit register that is slightly lower than the true summit block -- standing on the summit block (thankfully and possible on a day with light winds) makes for a spectacular summit that is the polar opposite in both size and crowds from Longs summit.

meeker longs from mike hinterberg on Vimeo.

Missouri, Belford, Oxford, Emerald, Iowa, Pecks -- Sawatch Six-Pack

Nick has already had a writeup for a week, but in any case, wanted to make sure there was interesting beta on a great route on the Sawatch.

The Missouri-Belford-Oxford trio of Sawatch 14ers is a fairly common combination of 14ers, with the peaks being relatively close together and often either done in a one-day push or by backpackers who enjoy a few days in the gorgeous Missouri Gulch. It's still a lot of vertical in terms of 14er hiking, especially considering the re-climb of Belford that is necessary to avoid significant bushwhacking, but all 3 mountains have accessible Class 2 trails.

Furthermore, for those who haven't set sight on these peaks, Gerry Roach's famous book points out that which is also suggested by topo maps: accessibility of other centennial 13er peaks, Emerald and Iowa. Thus, a 5-mountain combo, which charts at about 16.5 miles, also makes for a nice day. I've been intrigued by this route for a few summers, ever since reading it on the toilet or waiting for an appointment or wherever I typically scan Roach's book for a quick 5-10 minute glance, but there are only so many good alpine weekends and opportunities in a year.

Since some of us were headed up to Leadville for the weekend, and the weather was looking quite favourable, I pitched the idea to the Nick's (Pedatella and Clark), despite a plan to run 21 miles at night in Leadville; which, at a social pace and after a one-way shuttle, I claimed would be "free" miles that were not at risk of being un-run. Luckily, they were game for this plan.

Then I worried about pace, but there was usual talk of taking it easy, feeling a little slow, having run a 50k the previous weekend (them) or an atypically high number of miles during the week (me), etc. Everyone was kinda telling the truth, but I still dogged behind a bit...although I was the only one with a camera and taking pictures!

Anyway, we got started from Missouri Gulch just before 7am, and hit Missouri, Iowa, and Emerald first. Missouri was the most interesting of the 14ers, with more of a fun ridge than the other 2, while Emerald was the sexiest looking, in my opinion.



Next up was the only real route decision-making: heading over to Elkhead Pass. Roach's book basically suggested re-summiting Iowa. Pedatella and I discussed dropping all the way down the basin, by the lakes (I also thought about getting some water here), with the tradeoff of extra climb/descent being done at easier terrain at lower elevation. As it turned out, we just followed Clark on a direct, loose talus sidehilling slog. Other reports make note of this less-enjoyable route. It gets the job done -- and Clark was moving really well in that area -- but was certainly the least fun part of it. Coupled with running low on water later (nothing available up high), I might suggest considering the low route.

But we made it to Elkhead Pass, and soon were on our way up Belford. Without much haste, we bounced down the saddle and then up to Oxford, which had a couple of small false summits, but was otherwise a quick and straightforward scurry. Reversing our tracks, we were back up on Belford, still enjoying perfect weather. One more decision remained, but ended up unanimous, as we forewent the standard switchbacking descend down Belford in favour of "ascending" one more (named-but-uranked) peak, Peck's Peak, which is really a final bump on the North Ridge.
Besides the satisfaction of another peak, this gave us a fun extra mile ridge run, and we got to see some mountain goats we otherwise would have missed:


I poked around the farther end of the ridge a bit before descending straight down, whereas the other guys took off from the summit. Their terrain was more rocky tundra, whereas further down the ridge it was enough scree to ski a couple turns at a time (before being broken up by tufts of tundra). Other than filling up the shoes with rocks, it was more enjoyable of a descent than I anticipated.

Otherwise, my fixation was on water, as I ran out. I had only taken 2 bottles up (as had the others) as I had word that there was ample water in the gulch, but that was only in the lower parts where people were camped, so I had pushed it for the last hour, and I wanted to play with my Steripen anyway, which I had been carrying all day...and failed, again, with annoying blinking red lights. Ah well. So I wasted time doing that and finally met the other guys at the trailhead.

Anyway, it was a fun morning up high and certainly a classic route to consider to get your money's worth from the trailhead.

Sangres Camping and Horn Peak

Horn Peak (13450')
11 miles, 4500' gain RT from Alvarado Campground
8 hours

J and I were looking for a quick camping and hiking excursion, so I cross-checked the mental list of interesting summit hikes with the weather forecast. Things looked better in the Sangres than further west, and I had been wanting to show J some of this area after being impressed with it last year, so the visit to Westcliff was new for her.

Among the stunning lineup of 13ers that lord above the Wet Mountain Valley, Horn Peak stands out as being visually prominent, due to being sufficiently high but also a bit closer than some taller mountains behind it.

Horn Peak, left

Horn Peak has a standard Class 2 trail along the Hennequin Peak drainage, zigzagging up from the Rainbow Trail and entering the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness Area. The hike is usually done as a 9-mile roundtrip from Horn Creek TH. In this case, we started from the Alvarado Campground, adding about a mile each way (0.5 mile to Rainbow Trail, additional 1 mile to Cottonwood Crk TH, and another mile to the start of the Horn Peak trail). This provides for a leisurely 2.5 miles each way along the rolling Rainbow Trail, before the mostly relentless climbing begins, with more than 1000' per mile along the Horn Peak trail.

Staying at the Alvarado Campground ($18/nt) provided advantages of being able to return directly to our car and campsite, but also being able to have a fire in the provided fire ring, as current fire restrictions allowed for fires only in such developed areas. Although I don't usually like paying for camping, it was a worthwhile tradeoff for those reasons, in addition to having a nice campsite and easily available water.

The first night, we also had views of cool clouds:

Of course, the reason to generally eschew campgrounds are the cost, and the noise factor. While accepting the former as a reasonable cost for convenience, the latter unfortunately proved to be a scourge yet again. While the entire campground appeared to have settled in by 10:30 (with "quiet hours" beginning at 10, as is customary), we had the luck to be situated directly next to a loud group of inconsiderate a-holes. I asked them once, nicely, to be quiet, at 11pm.

I tried to meditate on the Buddhist thinking I had just read earlier in the day, about the illusion of time creating suffering through anxiety, in which the cure was to focus on the present -- but I was suffering now, and these people were being major jerks now -- no help! Serenity now.

An hour later, after more drinking and loudness, including metal-on-metal banging of midnight woodchopping, I asked again, stating the simple and direct question but with a bit more adrenaline in my voice. As is the sort of cognitive dissonance that seems to be all-too-common when people are caught in there own disregard for others (see: asking neighbors to take care of dogs), no apology was offered, but they mentioned that they'd try to be respectful -- although assuming that, by "confronting" them with a reasonable request, that I was looking for a fight(?) J was glad that I came back without getting killed. They made a halfhearted attempt at talking more quietly and trying to wrap up the evening, but you know how quiet it is when drunk people get ready for bed when camping? It's another hour of banging bottles around, slamming car doors, taking turns going to the bathroom, and laughing about everything, and then going to the bathroom again. Ugh.

So, we missed out on the crickets and the yelps of the coyotes that could otherwise be heard in the distance, and several hours of sleep were stolen from us. Why type all this negativity? To remind myself next time I think about going to a public campground -- a supposedly fun thing -- and, to bring earplugs, which is an unfortunate way to enjoy nature.

So we slept in a bit to make up for it and didn't hit the trail until 7:30am. I was worried about afternoon storms, but everything turned out fine.

Hike

As mentioned, the campground has a half-mile spur trail directly to the Rainbow Trail, so it's alternative spot to start the hike. There's an additional Day Use area at this trailhead, but because it's developed, a fee ($6) is charged, but not to campers.

The Rainbow Trail runs parallel to the line of mountains, with spur trails up many of the drainages. The trail itself is over 100 miles long, --- I've been mt. biking on the sections near Monarch Crest/Poncha Springs -- and although it's mostly a rolling, shared-use trail that doesn't go as high as the CO trail, I still think it is a "hidden gem" for through-hiking/running/mt. biking options. Anyway...

After an hour, we made the turn onto the Horn Peak Trail, ready for the steeper climbing to begin.

Below treeline, the Horn Peak trail is steep and rocky -- runnable, but relentless. We took our time and enjoyed the flora and fauna. I think this is J's first time seeing a Super Mario Mushroom.

The trail crosses the creek and enters the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness, and actually flattens out a bit before reaching treeline. Knowing the amount of climbing left, however, just means that the rest is even steeper.

The final push requires a bit of perseverance to get to a false summit, followed by a rocky ridge traverse to the true summit. It's all visible from below, and looks tantalizingly close, but the steepness and thin air make forward progress slow.

Here's J just before the summit, with the entirety of the ridge behind her:


But, we had a beautiful day with great weather and no wind, so it was a lot of fun catching views along both sides of the ridge.

To the West and South were great views of the Crestone Group. I enjoyed seeing new perspectives of Comanche and Venable directly to the North. Summiting just after noon, we spent a few minutes on top, with no imminent storms threatening, but distant rain and occasional thunder out over the Wet Mountains.

We made our descent and still had great weather the entire way, and eagerly returned to our campsite. Luckily, things were quieter around camp the second night, affording time for reading and a solid night's sleep. So overall, a great time in the Sangres.

Oh, one last thing -- in comparison to my misanthropic tendencies with regard to group camping, I should mention the total number of other hikers seen in 8 hours on a perfect Saturday in July:

Zero.

As for the Sangres, I really enjoyed the Comanche-Venable loop, and Humboldt was decent, but I cannot fathom why a hike up Horn Peak wouldn't be more popular. Highly recommended!

Whitney Peak in Colorado's Holy Cross Wilderness

Whitney Peak (13271')

SE Ridge from Whitney Lake TH

~9 miles scrumblewhacking

Class 2+/3easy

4500' gain

In coordination with Teva's Vail Mountain Games, a local FoCo contingent headed up to Minturn for a fun weekend of camping and running. We were represented well in the races, but Nick and I branched off to use the opportunity to explore some beautiful sections of the Holy Cross Wilderness.

Our original plan involved Holy Cross Ridge, albeit with some concerns about the weather forecast for a committing ridge run (50% PoP, possible thundersnow) necessitating a very early start, but a busted clothes dryer at home significantly delayed my arrival Friday night. In addition to stumbling into the wrong campsite (luckily, the camper was quite mellow about it), by the time I arrived, all lights were out and everyone was sound asleep.

Exactly as I feared on the drive out:

I arrived at the campsite after 11PM, with everyone focused on getting a good night's sleep in order to have a serious run the next morning. Nobody had even drank any beer that night, so as to run better the next day, so my cooler full of microbrew would be entirely out of place.

As I arrived at the campsite, the dogs were the first to notice, shouting howls of annoyed protest. As my headlights swung across the tents, the children joined in succession, starting with an 18-month old crying; her brother then awakening and being startled and inquisitive about the stranger in the midst. The older kids, then, needing the precious extra sleep of teenagers, being unable to fall back asleep and registering complaints of cold and discomfort.

Finally, the elders would arise from their camps, Petzl's a-blazing, and interrogate me angrily:

"Hinterberg! Why did you even bother to come so late?"

Ashamed, I'd turn around the way I came, slinking back to the Front Range.

Luckily, it was nothing like that. Everyone was asleep, I was in my own tent in 15 minutes, and nobody was the wiser until sunup the next day, when they were surprised to see me there.

So as it was, Nick and I needed a proper plan for 4-5 hours.

Close by on the map was Whitney Lake and it's namesake peak. Sight unseen, and without the benefit of the internet for climbing beta, we headed up to make the most of it.

The trail to the lake is a steady but highly-runnable grade, from just over 9000' to just under 11000' in 2.5 miles. So in half an hour, we were standing at the lake, with our first views of Whitney Peak.

We were happy to find a pleasantly aesthetic peak worthy of our time.

As for routes, two obvious possibilities stood out: the constant grade of the southeast ridge, which looked promising but had some unknown terrain hidden behind the trees (left of picture); or a run along the northeast ridge (right of picture) which had a few open scree slopes that seemed manageable.

In either case, a fair amount of bushwhacking was required to start, so we headed counterclockwise around the lake. Ultimately, our route could best be described as fumbling around blindly until treeline, where we lucked out onto wide-open tundra slopes of the northeast ridge, where the rest of the climb was obvious and the weather was still great.

Everything's coming up Milhouse!

After a bit of tundra walkup, we had some alternating snowfields, stable talus and boulder climbing, and even some solid slabs, we topped out near a rocky pile on the otherwise expansive flat of the summit plateau. Higher points were evident in the distance, so we traced along the talus of the ridge, including a prominent notch on the summit that lead directly down into an artful couloir.

Farther along were the real summit(s), then: first, a large, smooth boulder just tall enough to be a 5.6 climb and which was a candidate for the summit. This boulder shall not be discussed further. More to the west, a seemingly equivalently tall summit pile directed our attention. It is here that both a USGS marker and summit register are placed.

3rd and 4th summits of the year.

We enjoyed superb views to the North of Halo Ridge that leads to Mount of the Holy Cross: some other day.

Although the weather was better than forecasted for the morning, rain was evident to the south with clouds building around us. Nick saw a flash of lightning in the distance. Time to head down.

We debated our options, and decided it was easy enough to head down into the drainage above Whitney Lake. We should then be able to take a direct line to the lake; quick and easy.

Above treeline, we had some fun scrambling, running, and shoe skiing. At one point, Nick said something about the terrain being similar to Zegama -- while he was saying that, I had five points of contact on the mountain.

At another point, I sent a large boulder in his direction, with the intention of bolstering my ultrasignup ranking slightly. I called it out weakly to assuage my guilt, but it instead crashed through the snow before coming to a halt.

At treeline, then, we began the bushwhack anew. It began with some fun, runnable sections on game trails, but then, Holy Cross Wilderness spun it's well-deserved reputation as being the Bermuda Triangle of Colorado, with the lake eluding us despite our extensive, fumbling search for it.

At least we were in the trees when the lightning, thunder, and sleet approached.

Alternately splitting up and coming back together, mucking through marshes, and relying on our speed, endurance, and stubbornness rather than map-reading and planning, we arrived back at the lake, satisfied that we covered every square-inch of non-lake prior, with an additional half-mile in the log to boot.

Finally, a fun cruise back down the trail. Some wildflowers were knee-high and will be three times as tall next month, while groves of aspen will be on fire in September -- this is a spectacular place for the summer and fall. A lesser-visited summit, but definitely recommended.

Wild Basin Trio: Mt. Alice, Chief's Head, Mt. Orton

Mt. Alice (13310')

Chief's Head (13579')

Mt. Orton (11724')

Lollipop above Lion Lakes from Wild Basin TH

~18+ miles, ~6000' elevation

11 hours hiking

Alice and Chief's Head (L to R) above Lion Lakes

Located deep in the Wild Basin, Mt. Alice is a 13er that cuts a striking figure from multiple vantage points. It's a gorgeous mountain that I've wanted to climb for several years.

The route that looked the most fun is the Hourglass Ridge, the ridge that connects to the Chief's Head saddle. It's considered a Class 3, in mostly solid rock and ledgy tundra, but sure looks intimidating in photos, with steep dropoffs to either side, especially in the narrow middle part of the hourglass shape. The additional challenge of snow changes the dynamic further.

So I was excited to hear that Steph was planning a hike out there, on a day with favourable weather. Additionally, we would head up Chief's Head Peak, and consider a route down the ridge that led to Mt. Orton. I was very happy to finally make it out there, especially among great company, as Steph has more climbing experience than me (in addition to being a strong hiker and runner), which would make the day more enjoyable and safer.

So, after a 3:45AM departure from Fort Collins, we were able to begin hiking at first light.

Now although the peaks were the goal, this was also a first viewing for both of us of the Lion Lakes -- a truly sublime destination in its own right. The trail is solid for most of the way up, but as is the theme in Colorado this year especially, we encountered a bit of deadfall and snow in the last mile or so, necessitating detours and bushwhacking.

Because of that, and by following the drainage as a reference point, we were naturally drawn to the sound of rushing water. This turned out to be the pleasant surprise of Thunder Falls.

Thunder Falls itself is also a worthy and legitimate waterfall, lesser-known only because it's deeper in the park. I can't believe we're lucky enough to stumble upon things like this for a casual 5-minute visit before continuing -- it's almost a crime!

But onward we marched to treeline. Above the Lion Lakes is a perfect ramp that leads up to the saddle, a fun grassy stroll to new views on the other side.

Steph in front of Chief's Head

This also gave us our first views of our summit goals. Chief's Head looked like a dry, direct walkup on talus. Mt. Alice, on the other hand, still had a fair amount of snow on it, and still looked somewhat steep and imposing. But we headed up towards the Hourglass Ridge for a closer look at what was dry, and to see if the snow was soft enough for kicking steps and plunging when necessary.

The verdict? As often is the case, a closer view shows more clear lines and features, so it was an easy decision to go upward. Also, the snow was generally soft, among various sections that were short enough that we didn't regret leaving our axes in the car.

I was happy to follow Steph here -- not just because I trusted her experience -- but probably even more because I'm strategically lazy and it was convenient to leverage her footsteps. Thanks!

As tempting as it is to overplay the difficulty, in reality, the soft snow and grassy tufts of tundra and interspersed talus gave great steps all the way up, with the knowledge that downclimbing would also be manageable and safe. In fact, the entire route felt more Class 2+ than Class 3, as little actual climbing was needed. In that respect, Mt. Alice is one of the most spectacular Class 2+ peaks I've enjoyed, as the views and route itself suggest that one should have to work harder to get to the top. And, it's a direct route up one of the more interesting aspects, rather than a cheating sneak around the backside (as Chief's Head was going to be).

The weather was great and wind was low at the summit. Time to head down to Chief's Head.

Although Mt. Alice was more of my goal for a longer time, Chief's Head entranced me just this year, when Caleb and I hiked to Green Lake. Chief's Head's sheer north face drops straight into the lake, and I looked forward to that vantage point.

An hour or so later, and we were up high again, peering directly down into Glacier Gorge.

This was a particularly rewarding way to connect-the-dots with previous hikes and views.

From here, we also had great views of Longs, and could make out figures in the Keyhole.

Steph and I were 7th and 8th climbers of Chief's Head in 2012 -- there would be more than that summiting Longs during the day. The last climber of 2011 -- Aron Ralston. Fun to recognize names on the summit logs.

We also had a clear view down the ridge to Mt. Orton. I'm still not sure why Mt. Orton is Mount-Anything -- it's no more than a collection of rock clumps on the long grassy North ridge of Chief's Head. But, this long ridge would give us new views (including down into Sandbeach Lake), a new summit, and a way to skip past the trees to make a semi-loop back to the trail.

Looking back along the Mt. Orton Ridge

We stayed along the ridge and surveyed our views, with out last chance for line-of-sight and dead reckoning before our final descent to treeline. What's a little more bushwhacking?

Well, the final bushwhacking session took closer to 2 hours, including some marshy areas and smaller, unmapped ponds. If one just wanted to climb Mt. Orton for the views, connecting to Sandbeach Lake would be easier than back to the Lion Lakes trail, but this was not our goal. Still, the deadfall wasn't too bad (compared to the Glacier Gorge blowdown), so it was just a steady slog.

We popped out on the trail maybe a mile about the final junction. Having seen nobody else, we took a guess on the day's total: "0" and "2" were our guesses. We hit the final 1.4 miles, still sighting nobody, and then remembered how to jog. Just in time -- we had an audience of 7(!) people in the last mile.

Another spectacular day up high in RMNP.

Countdown to Leadville: Unnamed 13500

Unnamed 13500 from Independence Pass
? Miles, 1400 ft gain

Very happy to be in Leadville, staying in a wonderful house just a couple blocks from the race.

I guess I could, and maybe should, lie around and not move, but after doing some work this morning at the coffee shop, I got restless and headed up to Independence Pass. Besides great views, I hoped that a little time above 12000 feet with some mild exercise would increase acclimatization.

I knew there were some easy and obvious trails at the top, and a hunk of rock to the north of the road that looked particularly inviting, looking no more than a half hour walk away and several hundred feet up (I am very bad at estimating . I pushed it steadily until near the top, when I met a friendly couple from Kansas, Andy and Deb. There, I stopped to chat and took their picture. I was clearly feeling the elevation, but grateful to have had a mile headstart living in Fort Collins. Andy was a few months returned from Afghanistan, and I promptly thanked him for his service and welcomed him back home and to Colorado.

I headed up to the top and enjoyed new views to the north, and a fun bit of exposure if you hang on the North edge. An alpine lake lies below: I could have guessed its name by pure luck, since "Blue Lake" is the most common unimaginative name around here. As these things go, though, there was an obvious higher chunk of rock just a short stroll to the west, so I headed that way as well, tracing the Continental Divide. There was a small summit marker here but no log. A more impressive, prominent peak lies further to the West: this is Twining Peak, and would have to wait for another day. The saddle looked to be at least 300 feet lower (and it is), so I declared my position a satisfactory summit of some sort.

I headed back along the ridge and saw Andy and Deb hanging out, and offered to take some pictures for them up there. We chatted some more, I told them how much easier it is when you get used to it and that it's certainly hard coming from sea level. They were originally just heading up to see some snow and decided to go for the top -- good for them! Eventually I disclosed the upcoming race and then the distance. Andy was graciously excited for me and said it was the first time he met an ultramarathoner, so that was a fun compliment. They told me about some trails and events they recommended out in Arkansas (a new state for me which I'd like to visit), and that there GPS had us up at 13400. Whoops, underestimated that one.

We headed down, and I told them about watermelon snow (which I was unable to smell), pointed out La Plata Peak, ptarmigans, marmots, and pikas, before heading down in a light better-not-trip jog. Near the bottom, I met Rick (?) from Dallas, who had a race shirt on. I accosted him (and his pacer, "CC"): "Shouldn't you be at home with your feet up?" He was out for a bit of elevation as well, though he's been here for a week. I'll be excited to see them on Saturday as well.

I checked the map when I got home to learn that Unnamed 13500 is a legitimate 13er, 255th highest in Colorado. That makes it a "tri" for the people working on climbing the highest 300 peaks in the state. So I have a head start on that. Assuming I finish this weekend, "Unnamed Runner #417", I'll recommend this as a mellow altitude hike to check out on race week.

*

I headed back to the house and then learned about early packet pickup, so I hopped on a bike for a short ride down there. Met a few folks there and participated in a brief research study. Now I have a green bracelet on my wrist that ain't comin' off until Sunday morning.

*

Then made a quick batch of couscous and rode over to Brandon's house. I definitely appreciated the hospitality and camaraderie over there, it'll be even more fun to recognize faces and see everybody run a strong race this weekend.

Go time!

Mt. Audobon Morning Run

Mt. Audobon
13,323 feet














Pic taken by and stolen from GZ.
Justin and I approaching the summit. Behind us, mountains beyond mountains, and an inversion with a low layer of clouds blanketing the front range cities below.


George put up a post mentioning Mt. Audobon for the morning, which was something I was considering for a morning mountain run, and I had coincidentally borrowed the parking pass from my brother-in-law earlier that day. I had never been up there, and it has a good bang-for-the-buck of solid elevation and gain on a Class 1 trail, without having to drive too far or past Denver. And by starting early, we were able to beat the typical crowds and parking madness (actually, even the descent wasn't too bad, with respectful and attentive hikers). I was very glad to meet him and Justin in the parking lot (and, later, TZ and JZ), and enjoy the run with those guys.

My small camera is still broken, so I'm glad to see some of the pics from GZ and Justin. The drive out included a gorgeous full moon revealing the jagged outline of the mountains to the west, followed moments later by watching the sun rise while going up Brainard Lake road. I thought I might have missed the guys, but saw the rockin' minivan pull up moments later.

Justin got us going in a hurry, and despite everybody talking about taking it easy, I wasn't finding it incredibly easy to chat leisurely without running out of breath. Those guys seemed pretty comfortable with it though. But it was a great pace and we were quickly above treeline in the full sunshine and practically no wind.

Justin and I peered over the saddle towards the Divide, then power-hiked up to the Audobon summit. Awesome views all around, and some snacks, and then the descent. Justin admonished us to take it easy so as not to ruin our races, and then they took off. I quickly took a step next to a sharp rock that poked my inside heel, and then definitely focused on not doing anything else stupid. This route wasn't overly technical by any means, but Leadville is significantly less so.

This was a great run for the morning, really enjoyed getting to know JM and GZ better, and meeting some of GZ's family, and look forward to more runs with the guys in the future. I was a little more winded going up than I would like, but it wasn't insurmountable and hopefully a couple days at altitude will help. Everything else feels fine, a few tweaks in the right leg that haunt me but are manageable and should feel better over the week. Hopefully this workout helped, rather than hurt anything, but mainly it was fun!

Comanche and Venable: Sangres Loop

~15-16M (an extra couple miles on the Rainbow Trail)
~1M elevation gain
Comanche Peak (Sangres): 13277'
Venable Peak: 13334'
4 hours moving, ~5 hours total

With the monsoon weather moving in, it seemed like a good time to check out the Sangres; which, sadly, are under drought conditions and fire restrictions.

I've had my eye on the Comanche-Venable loop, which seemed like a nice exploration of 2 of the gorgeous drainages to the west of Westcliffe, CO. The loop supposedly had a decent trail, with two sets of alpine lakes, amazing views, and a chance to scramble up the namesake 13ers.

Most intriguing to me, however, was a section of trail dubbed the "Phantom Terrace", which is a singletrack carved into the side of Venable:



This section is clearly a no-go when snow, moisture, or weather are present. Fortunately, the trail was manageable and exhilirating. But I was also glad to be done with it!

Here's a short video:



The rest of the run/hike was spectacular as well: very green and full of wildflowers.



The scramble up Venable was steep grassy tundra with some rock obstacles to slow you down, and Venable is less impressive from the backside climb -- just a ho-hum endeavor. Comanche, on the other hand, is a fun charge straight up the ridge (form right to left, shown behind me):



The lakes themselves are a righteous destination as well, especially for fisherman. The Venable trail was rockier than the Comanche trail, and ultimately the descent below Comanche lake on the trail was straightforward and fun.

All in all, a beautiful area. Check out the map: there's a trail heading up each drainage (at least 10 different ones) to some impressive peaks from the East, and notable descents on the west side as well. With more route planning and familiarity with the terrain, some huge combined loops could be made.