One of many
trip reports under the
SilGro home page for Alan Silverstein and Cathie
Grow.
Email me at
ajs@frii.com.
Last update: May 31, 2024
(Previous trip report: 1986_0703-05_MaroonPeak.htm)
(A
Fourteener
trip report.)
(Originally posted to internal newsgroup:
/* hpfcla:hpnc.general / ajs / 3:33 pm Jul 8, 1986)
But wait, there's more. After successfully completing Maroon Peak, tiredness and bad weather precluded a followup by the same group to Capitol Peak; the three of us went our separate ways. After a day and a half of relaxing and bopping around Aspen with my wife (Spring Carlton) and daughter (Megan Silverstein), I was ready for more adventure.
Sunday, July 6: I left Aspen in the afternoon at about 1610 in our Jeep and drove up the Castle Creek road to climb Conundrum Peak (14022') for sunset. Conundrum was considered a sub-peak of Castle Peak, 14265'. The weather was 'holding' with scattered cumulus, not very threatening. It turned out to be an experience nothing short of magnificent, which I'll do my best to relate.
It was about 14 miles to the start of the 4WD road. From there I managed to get only about half way up to Montezuma Mine, about 2.5 miles. At 10800' there was the first of several astonishing fields of avalanche debris across the road. Tremendous pine trees were laying down, resting on their branches on snow, some as much as 10' off the ground. They formed quite a labyrinth, barely negotiable on foot. No Jeep could get past them! Just finding the road after crossing each one was a challenge.
(The Forest Service said they'd look into clearing the road that August, if time and money permits. Until they did, it was a longer climb of Castle Peak...)
Beyond this section the road was an easy walk-up except for some stream crossings and, higher up, snowdrifts. Several parties passed me going down, wondering what kind of nut would be heading up alone starting at 1730, especially having to start so far down the road. I had my doubts too.
But it went smoothly! I hiked up the several broad snowfields starting around 12500', across slalom tracks laid down by summer skiers. This year, unlike last, there was no lake in the 13400' upper snowbowl -- a real disappointment. Last year's emerald-on-white waters were mind-blowing.
Above the bowl at about 8 pm, ugly clouds started pouring over the Castle-Conundrum ridge and it was definitely getting dark. I came so close to turning back, hearing thunder maybe 10 miles distant, that I glissaded down a hundred feet from just below the saddle. I was in and out of ominous living fog.
But I stopped to take a picture of the gorgeous orange sunset glow on the clouds above Aspen, and I'm glad I did. I waited about 10 minutes, debating, and the saddle cleared. Apparently the very edge of a big ugly thunder-humper had come across the area going northeast. I resumed climbing, reaching the saddle (13800') at 2037, about 10 minutes after sunset.
There began the awe and splendor. The sun had set just behind the Maroon Bells and Pyramid Peak, and the sky was on orange fire, with rays cutting through multi-level clouds. Opposite, a white cloud crept over Castle Peak.
I dashed up the last 200' to the top of Conundrum Peak in only eight minutes, arriving at 2045. It was simpler than I thought, a "piece of cake". The irony is that last year I didn't bother to climb Conundrum while coming off Castle because I was tired... I didn't think it could be done so fast.
Now picture this: A huge dark thunderstorm with occasional flashes retreating to the northeast. Orange glow behind blue-black clouds to the west, beyond a black silhouette of distant mountains. A pyramid of a peak several hundred feet higher, half a mile away, against a backdrop of oozing orange clouds. Snow and rock in every direction. A narrow, flat ridge of a summit with a small cairn and steep sides. Venus brilliant on azure skies. Gentle cool breezes, and distant white noise rumbling up from hundreds of creeks and waterfalls in the valleys below; otherwise, silence, a world in slow-motion.
I didn't want to leave. I stayed 45 minutes, concerned about coming down by flashlight, but confident I could do it. When finally I couldn't hold any more glory, when it was really starting to get dark, I put everything together, and descended with a small light, quite enough to see my way back to the ridge.
The snow had just begun to crust over. It made for a drifting, flowing, slow and safe glissade in fading twilight, a world of black rock, grey skies, and white snow.
I found the Montezuma Mine road after a while and took it down by flashlight. I got off it once for a shortcut, but learned my lesson, after a lot of slow cross-country downhilling on loose rocks and snow. Then I followed it, no matter what.
The clouds dissipated overhead and a canopy of stars appeared, so rich that every time I glanced up I stopped dead in my tracks to stare in wonder.
After some surprisingly easy creek crossings, I played monkey-bars through the avalanche chutes, dead-reckoning my way back to the road from above each time, to reach the Jeep at 2325 (1:55 to drop 3200'). I was back in Aspen an hour later and in a hot outdoor jacuzzi soon after that. Mmmm....
Life doesn't get much better. I wish there were some way to capture the wonder of that experience and return to it at will.
(Next trip report: 1986_0713-28_SanJuans.htm)