One of many
trip reports under the
SilGro home page for Alan Silverstein and Cathie
Grow.
Email me at
ajs@frii.com.
Last update: March 25, 2024
(Previous trip report: 1986_0829-30_KitCarson.htm)
(A
Fourteener
trip report.)
The day after climbing Kit Carson Mountain from the east with three others, Crestone Peak was one of my toughest Fourteener climbs so far. This was largely because of conditions: Recent hailstone snow on many narrow ledges, plus glare ice on the upper rocks. Even on a good day it would be no picnic! The south approach, despite dropping 600' into a valley, might have been a much better way to climb this peak.
The first light on Crestone Needle from South Colony Lakes was crimson-orange again, but not as unique and spectacular as the morning before. Chuck Reese and I said goodbye to Paul and Carolyn at their tent because they'd only come up for a climb of Kit Carson and a hike back out.
We started up at 0715, much the same way as the day before, but this time avoiding the willows, on the main trail, now that we knew where to find it. This normal way to the Peak didn't lose any vertical enroute, as it took us north and west around to the north face, but it put us into a terrible couloir for the last 500' or so.
We had fantasies of completing the classic Peak to Needle traverse despite being tired and facing afternoon storms. Knowing we probably wouldn't make it, we headed for the Peak first. Why? Paul had advised us that upclimbing the infamous "red couloir" would be easier than downclimbing (if we didn't come back that way), and that reaching the top of the Needle on the traverse would be likewise easier than downclimbing off it. Besides, I wanted to get the tougher of the two peaks out of the way!
We reached the Bears Playground in about the same amount of time as the day before, but today we swung hard left up the ridge towards Crestone Peak. All previous advice was to take the highest route possible, but we still didn't go high enough. I saw later from above that it was most direct and easiest to stay right on top of the ridge (or near it) until we reached a marked path.
The seam on my right boot was coming loose at the sole so I had to tie some nylon line around it. This didn't fix it completely, and hiking in a loose boot wasn't very smart, but one thing I hadn't had time for the night before was visiting my Jeep to pick up an old, spare pair. The fix worked surprisingly well; it took all day to wear through that piece of line.
The route took us up and across beneath some near-cliffs of conglomerate rock on the north side of the Peak. There was some hesitation as we had to climb about 20' up a narrow crack between the mountain and a huge, calving-off boulder. But it was definitely the easiest route on this side. A couple of short downs and ups around from the top of the crack brought us to the ice (not snow this time of year) field across the couloir, to our left. (Nothing but air to our right!)
It was treacherous to say the least. Steep, exposed, and almost rock-hard. About a hundred feet across the way a couple of groups had somehow come up the gully on rotten red slabrock, including one person attempting his last Fourteener. They had a 150' rope, but decided upclimbing the ice was too hazardous, and used it to belay some people back down the gully. (Eventually two of them came low around the left side, and the one finishing his last peak made it the same way I did.)
Chuck wasn't feeling well, and neither of us was thrilled about this obstacle. After resting awhile we decided he'd head down alone from there while I joined another person coming up. Not long after that, as I surveyed above for alternate routes, a pair of people came down a steep ledge-and-crack section, confirming it was do-able.
I climbed about 200' up this way with the other person below me. This had to be the easiest way up the north face, but it was no picnic... Steep, exposed, and slow going. There was a ledge cutting right, with cairns, that took me to a 50' downclimb, then around into the red couloir, this time at least 100' above the snowfield.
But that wasn't the worst of it! The couloir existed because it was a softer rock (sandstone?) than the surrounding conglomerate. It was steep and there were few reliable handholds. Add the hard-packed hailstone snow on most of the little ledges, and I needed real determination and care to keep going. Oh yes, did I mention the uncertain weather overhead? Clouds building in all directions, but no sure signs of lightning. (Fortunately there was none nearby all day.)
I toiled up the gully one careful move at a time. The last 50' or so was the worst, a pair of equally steep, narrow cracks to choose from. It was quite a relief to reach the small but spacious saddle at the top! Here I was between two peaks of almost equal height, about 150' above me, with a great view southeast to Crestone Needle half a mile away. [2024: Back then I wrote: "less than two miles away"; but that's silly, and now Google Maps made it easy to measure the direct distance.]
I raced up the boulders to the right-hand peak, which was shown on the map to be taller, arriving on top of Crestone Peak at 1225 (a long 5:10 for only 2800' total gain), shortly before the other person followed.
The Crestone summits were complex and interesting with many spires above 14000'. The main peak was unusual in that it was more a rounded knob (although not that simple) than a ridgetop. As it sat back from the main ridge to the Needle, I couldn't see over to the South Colony Lakes basin, but there were plenty of other landmarks -- the Sand Dunes, Kit Carson Mountain, the Needle, and Humboldt Peak, for instance.
The weather permitted me half an hour to enjoy the summit, wondering if distant thunderbooms were getting any closer. Then I and the other fellow started back. He paused at the saddle to re-coil a long rope, so I ran up the east sub-peak in about two minutes. Now there was a neat peak, a narrow ridgetop with a sheer drop of about 2000' down the northeast side to the basin... Cliffs upon cliffs, all the way to the Needle.
I dropped back to the saddle at about 1310 and started the precarious, nefarious, scariest climb down... What a bitch... Enough said.
Once out of the couloir I spent a long time resting and chatting with the fellow who'd finished his last peak (just behind us), and his friend who'd done the same five years ago. The former was a doctor in Grand Junction -- who knew of the doctor (Vanna Powell) who I clobbered with a rock on Mount Wilson a bit over a month earlier. We had an interesting discussion while the clouds stayed away.
Being refreshed and eager to get back, I followed cairns on a grassy slope down the first gully past the northeast face of the subpeak. That was a mistake; I fought about 200' of intensely steep rocks at one point. I knew I was in trouble when I came across some old webbing left behind by folks who'd used a rope! Well I found reasonably safe (though slow) ways to downclimb, using my ice axe at one point on some snow. The crumbly, loose, garbage talus at the bottom was a relief after that.
I reached the upper lake at 1635, camp (and Chuck, who'd had a fine afternoon mellowing out on Mother Nature) at 1715, and my Jeep (for a new old pair of boots) at 1810 or so... And still got to bed by 2010 to rest up for Crestone Needle the next day.
(Next trip report: 1986_0901_CrestoneNeedle.htm)