Peaks “U” (“West Partner Peak”), “Q”, and “P”

Waking up and heading out felt good.  Moving forward and deeper into the wild is always exciting.  I was in to new territory.  My first idea was to hike up to the bowl underneath “West Partner Peak” aka Peak “U”, drop my pack and climb the peak.  West Partner Peak sits at the very head of the Pitkin Valley and is just over thirteen thousand feet.  It’s a good bit easier than it’s neighbor, “East Partner Peak”.  I went straight up the south face along easy grass ledges until I converged with the ridge high on the peak.  A 3rd class stroll on the ridge revealed a couple of false summits.  I had to cross an annoyingly loose gully then stood on top.  I had great views of the rest of the familiar range.  I did find a summit register on the top, placed by one of the 13er hardmen, Garrett or Martin, I don’t recall which.  The neat thing though was that, according to the register, there were only 3 people to summit this peak in 2003!  Such an unpopular peak with such great views.  This peak, along with Peak “P”, affords excellent views of the Booth Lake peaks like “The Spider”.

I spied the rest of my trip – the South Slate drainage and the remote row of peaks from “P” to “T” (“T” was out of view).  I also checked out the terrain below for camping spots.  Several locations looked promising.  I could camp high in the upper basin near a stream or I could camp lower down among a myriad of alpine tarns.  Those were the two obvious choices.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t see a good view of the pass that I had to descend.  It was obviously quite steep.

On the descent, I decided to take the south ridge to the low point on the saddle and hike back to my pack from there since it would require less steep descending.  Along the way I pass some bighorn sheep -  I think.  They were goat-like in appearance but dark gray.  There were no males so I wasn’t able to confirm.  They bounded past me and then several yards stopped and all abruptly turned around and stared past me.  One of their companions was heading in the other direction and the others had an expression of confusion on their face as to why that sheep was heading the other way.  I hope I didn’t disrupt them although I’m sure they all reunited.

I headed back down and took a rest at my pack then headed out.  The hike up to the top of the pass was uneventful save breaking through the snow up to my hips.  The area was quite rocky which is conducive for melted holes in the snow.  I aimed for what looked to be “Might Pass”, the most gentle part of the ridge.  When I arrived there, I realized that this was not a good spot to descend.  The other side was very steep, certainly too steep for me to do alone and without a rope.  So, I decided to search around for a better descent spot.  I bypassed a small talus pile northward and found a notch with a little gendarme protecting it.  The right gully looked doable but still very steep.  It turns out that the real “pass” is at a high notch to the north marked by a sharp gendarme.  I didn’t realize this until I had descended.  I actually had to gather my thoughts and really decided if I wanted to head down this alone.  It featured loose steep rock and about 500 feet of 50-55 degree, at the minimum, snow.  Well, I knew I could do it if I just paid attention and kept cool.  So, what the heck, I started descending.

I’m becoming less of a fan of loose rock since I’ve been rock climbing.  It didn’t really bother me that much before but I found myself wanting to trade the loose stuff for some solid 5th class.  Soon enough, I was at the snow.  It was about 3 in the afternoon and the snow was a bit like wet sugar.  I didn’t need crampons, just big kick steps and my ice axe.  I began the descent facing in and kick-stepped my way down.  I broke through more than once but one was especially interesting:  I broke through to my hips, caught by the bulk of my my camera case and backpack.  I swung around my legs looking for something to stand on – nothing!  I was floating in the air, supported by the snow.  So, I swiveled around and brought my legs out of the hole.  I then faced in again below the hole and continued the process.  It seemed like quite a long time that I descended but I finally made it to more gentle slopes and a nice set of falls.  At this point I turned around and bounded through the snow to the base of the idyllic basin.

There was a lovely stream carving the tundra up here and I stopped and took a rest at the shore.  I filled up my water and drank and ate some.  Then, I stashed my extra gear under a rock and headed out to Peak “Q” with a lighter pack.  From here, the peak looked quite easy and indeed it was.  I hit the ridge between Peak “Q” and “P” at a higher gap to the right of a couloir and began climbing easy grass slopes to the top.  The true summit of Peak “Q” is on the other side of a nasty notch.  I was on the western summit which can’t be more than 5 feet shorter than the other.  But, without a rope and a companion, I wasn’t about to try to cross it.  A rappel would have taken care of it no problem since the other side looked like easy 4th class blocks to the top.  I enjoyed my views nonetheless.

During the descent I was toying with the idea of climbing Peak “P” too.  It was already about 7pm and I didn’t want to have to hike into camp in the dark.  I was planning to camp at one of the tarns underneath Peaks “R” and “S”.  Still, I had about an hour or two of sunlight.  What the heck, I thought.  I headed off for Peak “P”.  This peak turned out to be the best of the trip.  Although the ridge scramble was short, it was delightfully solid and fun.  At the notch above the couloir, the climbing becomes 3rd and occasional 4th class.  Some of the ridge is exposed but the holds are so good that I felt great just holding on and checking out the space falling away.  A mere 20 minutes later and I was on the top.  I realized that I was now acclimated!  The view of Peak “P” was outstanding as well, easily the best.  Great views of the Ripsaw Ridge peaks and the elusive “Spider” as well as a beautiful angle on the towering Peak “L”.  I ended up hanging out on the summit for a long time snapping lots of pictures.

I headed back down and took the couloir down.  Easy plunge stepping led to a more slippery section where I was forced to face in with my ice axe and tediously kick steps down again.  After much tedium, I was back at my stashed gear with just enough daylight to spare.  I packed up and headed down to my next camp by following the creek down to the tarns.  The mosquitoes were starting to get worse.  Still, they weren’t too bad.  They were saving themselves for the last day, I s’pose.

I worked at top speed to get everything ready before it got dark so I started dinner cooking while getting my bivy sack ready.  This was by far the most remote spot that I’ve ever solo camped before.  I was deep in a remote valley of the remote Gores with nobody and no trails for miles and lots of vertical feet.  What a fun feeling to be so isolated!  I headed down to a small creek coming off of Peak “R” to rinse myself off.  I’d been pretty much moving this entire trip during every minute of daylight so I was a very dirty.  I let out a few yells just to let any critters know not to bother me for the night and then went to bed quite late, pushing 11pm.  I remember waking up at 3:30 AM thinking that it was morning.  I opened my bivy sack to reveal a spotlight full moon beating down on my hidden valley.  All the peaks were lit up around me.  It was so bright that I could see maybe only a couple of stars.  It was certainly a surreal moment.  After a few moments of staring, I zipped up and went back to sleep.

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I was very excited:  my first Gore Range trip in almost two years.  Unfortunately, my regular hiking partner, Ken, wasn’t able to make it so this trip turned into a solo expedition.  I was originally planning to explore the Black Creek region but decided at the last moment to postpone that when I had company.  I wasn’t exactly set on what to do though.

One thing that made this trip to Colorado so memorable was staying with the Betz’s at their cabin on Pebble Creek at the base of the Gores.  They invited me out for a slide show the evening that I arrived and I was more than willing to accept the invitation.  On arriving, Bill told me that a guest of honor was none other than Joe Kramarsic, the Gore Range connoisseur and author of Mountaineering in the Gore Range.  The other guests were interesting folk as well; it was great meeting them all.  The slideshow was held in the great outdoors under the full moon.  I included scenes from various trips of mine from all season.

After a great nights sleep at the cabin I decided to head out.  My changed plan was to hike up to Pitkin Lake and over “Might Pass” (as named by Robert Ormes) into the South Slate drainage and climb some of the remote peaks like Peak “Q” and “R”.  Bill had the interesting suggestion of hiking out the drainage back to the cabin on Pebble Creek which sounded most intriguing.  What to do.
 
I was a little worried about acclimating.  I recall breathing really hard when I just hauled my pack around the Betz’s cabin.  I never felt bad – just short of breath.  I drove down to the Pitkin Lake trailhead in Vail.  The sun was very bright and intense – typical Colorado – and it was hot.  Upon starting the Pitkin Lake trail, which is initially pretty steep, I felt the altitude.  I was deliberately slow on those first steep steps along the trail.  I was breathing heavy, but feeling fine.  The plan was to keep it that way…well, not the breathing heavy.  Hiking Pitkin trail was very familiar; this was one of my most visited trailheads although I’ve always left it before the lake for climbs in the environs.  This time, I was going to camp at the lake.  I saw several parties on the way down.  Some commented, “You sure are getting a late start.”  It turned out that they didn’t realize I was carrying a 3-day overnight pack and not a day pack!  They thought me insane when I said I was going to come out the other side.  “That’s all trail-less!”, they said.  Yes, I knew that.  I guess I was a little crazy…as you’ll see as you read on.  I was starting to realize that I really wanted to try the more ambitious itinerary and hike out to Pebble Creek.

A slow three hours later, I arrived at the lake.  I had the entire place to myself, of course, and I wandered around taking pictures and just checking the area out.  A deer wandered very close to me.  The mosquitoes were out but certainly tolerable.  I had been warned about horrid mosquitoes but decided to just deal with the buzzing rather than the stinky spray.  After a good hot meal and some reading, I turned in.  I fell asleep quickly but awoke several times throughout the night with gasps for air!  Not quite acclimated I suppose.  I slept late, perhaps until 7:30.

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A trip to Upper Slate Lake was something I was looking forward to for a couple of years.  Finally, I got the opportunity to go.  I could have easily made the trip solo but I didn’t want to attempt these difficult peaks solo.  So, Ken came along for this trip.  We originally planned this trip for four days but, because of an Ultimate tournament I was involved in, I was really tired and postponed the trip one day.  I figured we could still get in the peaks that I wanted to do, there just wouldn’t be enough time for rest.  Unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate with us at all this trip.  It was still awesome though.

All the close access points to the Slate Lake area are closed by private property.  So, the shortest way into Upper Slate Lake is about 11 miles…one way.  The trail also undulates quite a bit, and after we’d gained over a thousand feet, we ended up loosing all of it (and more) by the time we turned off from the Gore Range trail onto the Slate Lake trail.  The Slate Lake trail is unmarked but is a western branch at an old cabin along the Gore Range trail.
 
After branching off, the trail heads west through grassy aspen fields.  At this point you can see the two drainages, one for the south branch and one for the main branch of Slate Creek.  Slate Lake sits on the edge of the southern branch and Upper Slate Lake is a little over a mile past Slate Lake in the northern branch.  It’s almost directly under Peak “L”.  Along the way, we had views of an impressive lettered peak, Peak “T”, which rose up like a spearhead along the ridge separating the two branches of the creek.  As the trail moves along the base of the mountains, it winds way around to provide the most gentle ascent to Slate Lake.  The trail is all but gentle though.  It gets pretty rough and steep but is, at least, easy to follow the entire time.  Right after a waterfall is the lake.  We stopped at Slate Lake for a few minutes then headed up to Upper Slate Lake. 

The trail to the upper lake is very rough too.  It took us a little over an hour to arrive.  We got our first view of the rows of peaks around the valley which were often cloud covered.  These were some really impressive looking mountains.
 
I thought about climbing a close peak this afternoon but the weather wasn’t cooperating at all.  It kept raining off and on.  Actually, this was to be a pattern that repeated throughout the entire trip.  We only got one window of opportunity to climb but that too was cut short.   Anyway, we enjoyed ourselves around campsite, occasionally retreating to the tent when the rain would come.  We went to bed with it raining and woke up occasionally to rain.  I woke up around six or so and still heard rain and realized that climbing might not work out for us.  Sure enough, the peaks were completely socked in when we got up around seven.  We waited around and there seemed to be some clearing around 10 am.  So, we packed up and headed to “South America Lake”, so-called because of it’s near perfect resemblance of the continent.  It took us well over an hour, maybe over an hour and a half to arrive at the lake.  The bushwacking was difficult and we came to realize that the best policy is, in short, to stay as low as you can for as long as you can.  The higher ground is so cliffy that you’ll spend lots of time trying to get around them.  The easiest ground is definitely the low ground along the tarns and marshes.

As we started up Peak “Q”, the clouds had moved in again.  Rain was definitely threatening but we decided to go on until we had a definite sign to turn around.  The first part of Peak “Q” involved climbing up a small gully into the upper basin on the peak.  There was still a good amount of snow up in here.  Our plan was to head almost to the ridge and then turn right along a long ramp system that would lead us to just under the summit.  The lower part of the basin consists mostly of large blocks of talus.  The slopes of the peak are pretty solid and are mixed with steep grass and large blocks.

We heard jets from time to time thinking it was initially thunder.  The clouds did not improve and all and were darkening.  We suspected that it was indeed going to rain on us and had a decision to make if we were going to start climbing anything that was 4th class or harder.  Fortunately, everything so far was only 2nd and 3rd class.  When we were still about 800 feet below the summit, however, it happened:  the rain started.  Then it increased.  It soaked all the rocks and everything became slick.  Fortunately, the descent wasn’t hard; but it was frustrating to know that we wouldn’t be able to climb today.
 
The rain lasted for quite a while.  We got back down to “South America Lake” as the rain was beginning to abate.  The sun came out a little bit too and the steep rocky faces on the peaks were all glistening.  We didn’t turn around though and head back, and that was a good thing because the rain came again, this time with hail and a lot harder.  It was a bit of an ordeal to get back to the tent because we ended up going down the opposite side of the drainage and having more troubles with cliffs.  This part wasn’t too fun in the hail!  Finally we made it back.  It continued to rain off and on throughout the day although we were granted a reprieve during the evening.  We both were awakened that night by the biggest rainstorm yet.  Oh well, maybe next time.  The bad thing was that the following morning was absolutely beautiful!  But, we had to head back down.  The good news was that as we were heading down, the clouds moved in again and as we were looking back up the Slate drainage from the Gore Range trail, we saw that the peaks were getting hammered yet again by the monsoon.  It was not meant to be this time.

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I finally decided to go to Upper Boulder Lake this weekend to attempt Peak “Z Prime” and Peak “Z”.  I wisely decided to take a rest the weekend before so I felt fresh and was excited about visiting this remote area.  This was actually my second solo backpack into the Gores, the earlier one being a climb of Outpost Peak and the connecting ridge leading to the pass between Pitkin and Booth valleys.  The trailhead for Boulder Lake is, like many other destinations on the eastern side, the Rock Creek trailhead.  This trailhead is about 7 miles north of Silverthorne.  There’s a street sign that marks it.  The first part of the road is dirt, but is very smooth.  After a couple of miles, there’s a well-marked left-hand turn that leads to the trailhead.  This part of the road is a bit rougher but my little sports car could handle it easily, but at the same time, I winced as I went over some of the bumpier sections.

This day was rather overcast and the cloud level was quite low, maybe around 12,500 feet.  So, the upper sections of most of the mountains were engulfed in thick rain clouds.  I threw on my backpack and headed out.  About a third of a mile down the wide and smooth trail, the Gore Range trail intersects where I’d take a right to head for the Boulder Creek trail.  Before I got there, however, a rain shower came.  It quickly became a pretty significant downpour so I sought shelter underneath a thick tree.  I took off my backpack and waited about fifteen minutes for the rain to abate.  The Gore Range trail runs laterally along the lefthand side of the range, entirely within the trees.  Because of this orientation, the trail undulates over ridges, one after the other.  So, you may find yourself hiking a lot of elevation, but generally, your net increase is not much at all!  I passed a couple of side trails on the way to the Boulder Creek trailhead.  The first is the abandoned wagon trail.  The western trail leads to an alternate route of Keller Mountain; I have no idea how far the eastern one goes.  The next trail parallels Pebble Creek.  This trail is, like many trails on this side, is cut off by private property.
 
After ascending up on to the ridge separating Rock Creek and Boulder Creek, I began a long and steep descent down to the Boulder Creek trail junction.  Actually, the trail on the map is not correct.  The trail is now located well south of the true branch of Boulder Creek, and as you’re hiking west along this trail, you can hear Boulder Creek roaring on your right, on the opposite side of a small rise.  It’s not far at all to Boulder Lake.  Before getting there, the terrain reminded me of southern Alabama!  The trail was very flat and composed of a gritty, sandy, reddish dirt.  And the foliage around consisted of southern pines and other scrubby-looking plants.  The lake reminded me of the Stewart Creek drainage near San Luis Peak – lots of flat, marshy land with thick swampy grass growing. This is apparently a haven for fishermen; I saw a few in various spots along the lake and the creek as it meandered through the marshy terrain.  I took a short break here at the lake and took some pictures.  Most of the peaks were shrouded in clouds.

I spied the trail leaving the lake on the right-hand side and headed out along it.  According to my map and most of my sources, the trail indeed ended near the second meadow so I had been trying mentally prepare myself for a difficult and long bushwhack to Upper Boulder Lake.  The trail got immediately rougher as I passed the lake, but generally was a good trail.  It roughly paralleled the right-hand side of the creek.  After a couple of miles, I arrived at the meadow.  The trail descended to run directly alongside the creek.  I followed it a little farther, crossed the creek on a log, then followed the trail for another hundred yards to a nice campsite at the edge of the meadow where the trail indeed ended. Something told me, however, that there must be a trail heading up to the lake somewhere.  I went through the campsite to where the creek cut back but saw nothing but very dense plants and running water; no trail there.  I went back to the edge of the meadow and headed to the left (south) and found a small passage through some flowers and plants that appeared to be nothing more than a widening of the plants where a deer had probably passed.  I followed this “trail” for about 100 feet and found a trail!  This trail ended up taking me all the way to the lake and was generally pretty good.  It pretty much followed the creek on the lefthand side the entire way. There were a few “gotchas” though:

Not long after getting on the trail, the trail squeezed between a large mossy cliff on the left side and the creek.  The trail then followed right along the creek for about a hundred yards.  This section was kind of eerie in the weather this day.  It was very dark, the rocks were moist and mossy, the leafy plants were dark green, and the passageway was really narrow.  It was an eerie landmark to remember on the way out.  After about 100 yards though, the trail takes an easy-to-miss turn to the left, leading straight up a gully to another meadow where the trail starts again.  If you find yourself on this section of the trail then find yourself at a dead end, back up and look for a spot to get up above the cliffs.  If I remember correctly, the trail and the creek are fairly level for a while.  Then, of course, the trail gets nasty again and starts traversing above more cliffs above the creek.  Not long after, I saw two waterfalls – one on the main creek, and another from a small tributary dumping into the creek.  I looked at the map and noticed that there were waterfalls notated on the map.  I thought that I was perhaps fairly close to the lake, in which event, I would have been delightfully suprised and how brief this section felt.  However, after about the eighth waterfall, I realized that I wasn’t quite sure exactly where I was!  Also, I encountered three or four little rain showers as I hiked.  Most of the time they warranted I stopp for shelter.

The only place where the trail truly ended for me was as I crossed over to the other side of the creek and then ended up at the base of an impassible wall.  There was a waterfall blasting through a chink in the wall (left). At this point, I was genuinely worried that the trail had ended for good.  There were downed trees everywhere, cliffs, super thick plants, and a rushing creek – definitely not easy terrain and atypical for Colorado.  I figured I’d have to go over to the left hand side of the wall and look for a way through.  According to the map, there was nothing on the right.  I tenuously crossed the rushing creek (“Man, I’d better not fall”, I thought), took a picture of the falls, and then spied a small gully leading up above the cliffs.  The gully was a classic Gore Range gully – very solid and steep, full of grass and plants.  As I started climbing up, I thought that this may be a trail.  Sure enough, as I emerged on the top, I saw a trail winding along.  Alright!  I continued on and enjoyed another load of waterfalls along the way.

Another “gotcha” on the trail was at maybe the second patch of talus.  At that point, the trail entered talus, and therefore became impossible to follow.  The trick is to exit the talus as soon as you can and cross a small tributary over a log to a great little campsite that features a placid pool fed by a small waterfall.  After looking around here for a couple minutes, I found the trail.  Again, it was on the left-hand side of the creek. I continued on.  After passing some more waterfalls, the forest became less dense and changed to a sub alpine forest.  At this point, I knew I was getting close.  Up ahead I saw a giant waterfall.  Well, actually, this was a Colorado waterfall, which is almost never a true vertical drop.  This fall, which was obviously the one on the map, probably dropped a grand total of 200 feet over steep cataracts.  It’s pretty awesome.  At this point, the trail was becoming much more faint and the part that I was able to follow did not move very close to the falls.  Up above the falls, the trail was almost imperceptible, but I was able to make out a large flat area up ahead – the lake!  Finally, I made it.

I walked around a while, looking for campsites.  I picked a spot on the north side of the lake, right next to the small tributary coming off of the higher lake to the north.  Ormes calls this lake “Secret Lake”.  I thought about camping up there but I wasn’t about to hike up another 500 feet.  This lake would do nicely.  Upper Boulder Lake (below) is an absolutely giant lake.  It was only 3 in the afternoon so I set up my camp and relaxed on the shores reading my book . I started dinner around 6pm and after I finished it, the biggest rainstorm of the day moved in and dumped loads of water all around me.  Fortunately, the large tree that I was camped next to kept me and my gear dry.  My socks and boots, however, were already soaked from hiking through so much wet foliage on the trip in, so they were unable to dry.  The rain fell for another hour and I was able to finish my book, about 100 pages worth!

As the rain stopped, the sun began setting. It was really pretty. I wanted to take a picture but I had to hurry to the other side of the lake.  As I was hiking over there, my feet got even more wet and by the time I’d arrived, the sunset had ended.  I didn’t get any pictures but it was still awesome to witness.  Keller Mountain was a giant orange wall above me.  It was so big that I couldn’t even come close to containing half of it in my camera view!  I took a dusk shot of the lake (right), hiked around a bit more, then headed back to camp to turn it. I struggled to make a small fire, but finally got one going.  By the time I was done drying out my socks and other items, it was about 10pm so I turned in.  I slept great.

I woke up around 6 and enjoyed a nice sunrise above the lake.  My socks had dried out reasonably well and I dressed quickly and ate a small breakfast.  I then headed out. Immediately, right outside my campsite, I had to wade through thick grass and flowers, covered in water.  I got wet fast.  My first objective was to get to Secret Lake.  There’s a very faint trail on the right side of the small stream leading down to Upper Boulder Lake.  I followed it.  The trail was very intermittent but I kept to within a hundred feet of the creek and made it up to the lake in a short amount of time.  This is another really pretty lake.  It has great views but there is very limited camping.  What few spots there are happen to attract lots of moisture.  So, it was definitely good that I camped down at Upper Boulder Lake.  I meandered my way through the trees, among the rocks, and past a set of tarns.  At this point I decided to contour around and hike to the base of Peak “X” where I’d follow the shelf over to the small saddle between Peak “X” and Peak “Z”.  I saw a few deer along the way.  Up here, there are no trails, and I’m sure that the trail I followed to get to Secret Lake was an animal trail.

There are lots of nice tarns and creeks up here.  I climbed up steep grass underneath Peak “X” and then traversed east along this high alpine shelf.  There are a couple of small lakes here.  The one at the far end feeds a nice ribbon fall coming off of Peak “Z Prime”.  Although I stayed fairly high, hugging the high talus, it is definitely best to hike the easiest terrain straight to the far tarn under Peak “Z Prime”, then start heading up.  Anyway, I quickly climbed the talus field under the ridge which turned into grassier slopes the higher it went.  After a while I was on the ridge and could see into the south Slate Creek drainage.  The north side of Peak “Z” was completely devoid of vegetation and I found that this was the easier route up to the saddle between “Z” and “Y”.  The saddle between these two peaks is a nice high alpine grassway.  I decided to climb up Peak “Z” first, which consisted of about a 300 foot scramble.  Peak “Z Prime” was the highpoint of a thin ridge in the opposite direction.  Peak “Z” was an easy talus scramble until just below the summit when I encountered some 45 degree slabs.  This was nothing harder than 3rd class, but a fun way to end the climb.  I could have avoided climbing the slabs by following a switchbacking ramp far to the right. 

On top of the peak, I took in the views and read the summit register.  It was placed in 1997 and about 15 or so people had signed it.  I rested on the top for a while and had some food.  It seemed like the next time I looked up there were storm clouds around me.  They seemed to have come out of nowhere because there was hardly a cloud in the sky a mere hour earlier.  I didn’t wait much longer on top and headed down and made my way to Peak “Z Prime”.  I though Peak “Z Prime” would be easier but it turned out to be a 3rd class scramble the whole way.  It was sort of exposed too but very solid.  It even featured a small knife edge.  I had the choice of traversing on the left side along some grass ledges or directly over the top of the ridge.  Well, I chose the ledges going and the tip top of the ridge on the return.  I’d rank both of them class 3.  I didn’t stay on the top of Peak “Z Prime” long.  Just long enough for some pictures.  As I was heading back, small hail started falling.  I picked up the pace and skidded down the scree on Peak “Z” to the saddle then all the way back down to the tarn.  By this time, the weather had turned again and was sunny and warm.  I hiked along the shelf and took several nice shot of Mount Solitude and surrounding peaks.  After a long slog, I was back at Secret Lake and then finally back down to Upper Boulder Lake. Since the sun was out, I put all my wet socks and boots out in the sun as I packed up.

The hike down to Boulder Lake was a bit different.  Somehow, I ended up taking a slightly different trail.  I noticed that I didn’t pass anywhere near the large waterfall.  I realized pretty quickly that I was on a different trail.  The problem with this one was that it continually faded out and I’d be in the middle of the woods with no trail.  The good news was that I knew there was a trail along the creek which was a good bit below me on the left.  I would start wandering towards that direction when I’d pick up another faint trail and follow it for a while.  I did this for quite a while then finally started noticing some landmarks.  I ended up getting back on the main trail down near the second talus field that I mentioned earlier.  Although these intermittent trails weren’t as good as the one that I’d taken up, the good thing was that I somehow avoided the rock wall with the waterfall shooting through it and therefore didn’t have to down climb the steep gully and cross the raging creek.  Actually, I was surprised and how fast I was moving down. I passed landmark after landmark and was finally back down to where the map showed the trail ending.  Along the way, I took pictures of various landmarks; it was too dark yesterday on the way in.

It felt like I was almost home back at Boulder Lake but I realized I still had a good amount of hiking left.  The most significant of course was getting back over the ridge on the Gore Range trail in my tired state.  Actually, it wasn’t that bad at all and I was back at my car at a little after 4.  This the most remote solo trip that I had done and I really enjoyed it.

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This was the third trip I’d taken up Pitkin Creek so it now feels like I know this drainage really well.  Last October, I climbed Mt. Solitude and others with Mike, Outpost Peak this June alone, and then these three peaks with George Bell, a very accomplished climber who’s done Alpamayo and climbed the Diamond three times – and who’s another “Goreaholic”.  We met up at the very early hour of 4:30 am and began the hike up the Pitkin Creek trail at 6am.  George set a very fast pace and we were at the base of East Partner, four miles away, in under two hours.  However, we were quite wet.  This had been a week of rain every day in Denver and apparently for Vail and it’s environs as well.  All the plants were wet along the trail and as we brushed by them, they deposited their gallons of water onto us.  The weather was also very overcast and dismal today.  At least that would hold off thunderstorms until later in the afternoon hopefully.

We decided to hike the long south ridge of East Partner which initially consisted of climbing up steep grassy slopes (left).  At about 12,250, the grassy slopes topped out and we could see the rocky ridge that led to the very steep pyramidal summit.

The first part of the ridge was fairly easy, not getting any more difficult than 3rd class.  At one point we climbed one of many small knife edges that led above an excellent-looking and deeply inset west-facing couloir.  That will have to be a route to try in the future.  We followed the ridge along often avoiding the tip of the ridge by wending to the east and west side at other notches.  After a steep 4th class gully, we were almost immediately under the summit pyramid.  George, also an excellent routefinder, led the route the entire way and we worked our way along the right side of the summit and climbed a steep but solid gully to some very steep 4th class slabs that were loaded with excellent cracks that made good hand and foot holds (below).  We climbed these steep slabs and topped out on the small summit.  As usual, there was no summit register up here or a summit cairn.  So, I took a few moments and built about a two foot high shaky cairn.  We spent the rest of the time taking a short break for some food, identifying peaks, and studying the various ridges.

The clouds up here were billowing around lazily.   These were the low flying rain clouds that you frequently see on Colorado Peaks.  They’re generally harmless (except for rain) and are really neat looking in their own right.  To the north, some of the high peaks along Ripsaw Ridge were completely engulfed in these clouds.  To the south, clouds were continually enveloping and clearing around Mount Solitude and Vista Peak.

We originally had planned to do East Partner then the half mile ridge traverse to Peak “W” but West Partner also looked very enticing.  Ultimately, we decided on the original course of action.  The ridge to West Partner was about a mile long and looked difficult from the onset.  Going to Peak “W” would allow us to also entertain the idea of going on to “Useable Pass” just south of Point 12,710 and maybe even on to Peak “X”.  So, we began the ridge that led to Peak “W”.  This ridge is very similar to the south ridge of East Partner albeit a good bit more difficult in spots.  The second notch along the ridge is a mandatory rappel and we amazingly spotted some slings at the top of this remote notch.  We had to retrace our steps and drop down a good big on the north side of the ridge, traversing just above the top of a snowfield.
 
The rest of the ridge had all sorts of little difficulties to overcome.  The rock was very solid for the most part so these moves weren’t too risky in and above their inherent difficulties.  We had a brief reprieve from the rock scrambling near the middle and enjoyed a grassy stroll as well as a rocky sidewalk to follow.  Thinking that the difficulties were behind us, we ran into another knife edge then finally were on the grassy flanks of Peak “W”.  It was a short stroll up to the peak which was really nothing more than a high bump along the ridge.  Again, there was no summit register or cairn here, but I would have been surprised had their been one.  From here we had a pretty close view of the first Slate Lake valley and across the way we saw the major peaks around Upper Slate Lake:  Peaks “Q”, “R”, and “L”.  The ridge from “Q” to “R” looked very thin and I made a mental note to avoid that ridge for whenever I would get around to climb these peaks.  Before we left “W”, we looked at the ridge that led to Peak “X” and determined that it would be easier to just head down the grassy slopes and traverse on the large boulders to Useable Pass and then see if we wanted to attempt “X”.  After a summit photo, we headed down the grass.

The traverse and climb over to Useable Pass was surprisingly very solid.  Virtually no rocks shifted beneath our feet and we were able to make good time.  George is a faster rock-hopper than me and got in front of me frequently and had to wait sometimes, and I’m by no means a slow rock-hopper.  After arriving at Useable Pass, we decided to go on and try Peak “X”.  It was sprinkling a bit but we were both feeling energetic.  I figured it would be good for me to climb Peak “X” now, that way I could avoid the difficult ridge if I were to ever come out to climb Peak “X”, “Y”, and “Z” one day.   Climbing Peak “X” from this side would greatly simplify that future trip.  And George’s goal is to climb all of the 13ers in this range so a climb of “X” would allow him to complete the thirteeners in this group, since he had done Peak “Z” on a backpack a few years earlier.  We headed up the ridge a bit but knew we couldn’t get to Point 12,710, where we would turn right to get to Peak “X”.  That point was blocked by a miniature version of Wham Ridge in the Grenadiers – a sloping rock face that continually got steeper near the top.  So, we probably climbed up the ridge maybe 150 feet then traversed to the face on Peak “X”.

Although all of the routes we’d done today were very solid and most of the routes in the Gores are solid, this part of Peak “X” was probably one of the loosest mountains I’d ever been on.  Any gentle touch on the scree would send a mini rock avalanche down on your feet.  It was quite miserable and tedious but we managed to traverse past it and get on to solid grassy slopes again which we followed up to the ridge crest, just to the right of the lowest point along the ridge as it appears on the map.  The ridge to Peak “X” is not hard at all, basically 2nd and sometimes 3rd class rock scrambling.  It’s a bit precipitous and thin in places but very secure.  As I was hiking up behind George he turned around and took a picture of me coming up stating that he wanted to get a picture with the wall of clouds behind us (left).  I turned around and indeed there was a wall of clouds not far at all behind us.  Within a minute, we were engulfed in clouds and the ridge climb suddenly turned quite surreal.  We made quick time climbing up the ridge although I stopped and took a few pictures along the way.  I took one shot of the faint image of George taking the last steps to the top.  Ironically, as soon as we arrived on the top, it started raining pretty hard.  We turned around immediately without even sitting down and headed back down.  The rocks got drenched very fast and suddenly the route became slick.

This was no gentle drizzle either; this was a genuine downpour in the mountains.  The rain began to mix with small hail too.  We had to move very carefully down the ridge.   We did a good job of memorizing the landmarks and picked our exact route back down to the loose slopes.  We had to find the grassy gully left exit off of the ridge then the right hand turn at the small rock tower, etc.  The only real difficulty that remained was getting back to Useable Pass.  We didn’t want to hit the ridge where we did the last time as there was a tough 4th class move to make which would be very risky on slippery rocks.  We couldn’t hike to the pass because it was covered in steep snow.  Our best bet looked like a traverse over moderately steep snow and up a small gully that connected with the ridge just above the pass.  The gully was filthy by this time…the rain hadn’t let up at all, if anything, it was coming down harder.  It was raining so hard that there were small waterfalls coming off the brim of my shell jacket’s hood.  The gully was steep but craggy rock mixed with mud and snow.  It reminded me of the typical mud chute as seen in movies like Indiana Jones or Jurassic Park – a steep, rocky, mud gully with water running down it.  We sloshed our way to the top and arrived at the pass safely. 

There were no technical difficulties in front of us but we still had a steep pass to descend.  We hiked down the pass and did a standing glissade on a couple of snow patches.  I slipped and fell about 10 feet at one point on some slick grass but fortunately was uninjured.  We continued down and finally hit the valley floor.  I remember traveling a faint trail last October, but did not see it this time.  Our vision was obstructed to about 100 feet by the driving rain and the low clouds.  At times, the wind would pick up and drive the rain straight into our faces.  Our boots were completely soaked by this point and I could feel water swishing between my toes.  The rain still hadn’t let up.  This was no thunderstorm – this was a monsoon!  We eventually arrived in the trees and wended around until we finally hit Pitkin Trail, then began the final stretch of the march back to the car.  Near the second waterfall the rain finally stopped.  We took a short break for water and food though we didn’t bother trying to dry out our feet.

The last part of the hike out involved passing through a few sections of willows that were beginning to take over the trail.  As we plowed through, more water dumped on us.  Near the bottom, it began clearing and the sun came out.  Finally, 12.4 miles and 6200 feet of vertical elevation later, we made it back to the car and drove non-stop back to Denver.  This was an awesome trip!

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