Here’s a trip that I had planned seven or eight years before: a recon excursion into the Black Creek drainage of the Gore Range, and climbing a few peaks along the way.  The Black Creek drainage is divided into three valleys: north, central, and southern.  It’s remote country, probably the most remote area of the Gore Range and basically without trail.

I was back in touch with Bill Betz, whose cabin is near Pebble Creek, some months before.  I did a solo traverse from Pitkin to South Slate drainage back in 2003 an had stayed with him and his family before and after the trip.  We had a crowd one night for a slide show of mine on the Gore Range.  For this trip, unforunately, we had much less time to catch up.  Ken and I ended up staying there alone the night before, playing Stratego and killing Miller Moths by attracting them to a wold of water with a drop or two of dishwashing soap.  The soap reduces the surface tension of the water making it impossible for them to climb out.  So, they drown, poor little vermin.  It was a particularly bad season for them; we ended up ridding the cabin of fifty or so.

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We set off early the next morning and took the severely rutted 4WD Brush Creek Road to the Brush Creek trailhead.  The last time I was here was in 2001 to climb Peaks “N” and “O”.  That’s a long time ago.

Our route was to be a long loop hike through the southern and northern valleys.  the route:  Take the Brush reek Trail to the Gore Range Trail, turn right (north) and follow the GRT to the Lost Lake Trail.  All of these trails are labeled though parts of the Gore Range Trail, which is a small highway in the southern end, were very hard to follow, being not much more than folded grass for long stretches.  Along the Lost Lake trail is a turnoff to the unmarked “Black Creek Trail”.  However, there actually is a marker pounded into a tree along the way, which reads “Lost Lake Trail”.  Someone has carved an “F” with an arrow pointing to the branch.  However, there are lots of fallen branches, obviously placed by people, along the branch as if to indicate that this trail is not supported by the Forest Service, or just an attempt to keep people out (I suspect the latter).  But, the “F” must have been carved by a party wanting to climb peak “F”; the trail certainly points you in the direction to Peak “F”.

The mosquitos were bad, so we slapped on repellant and moved quickly.  Not long after we were commenting on how good of a trail this unmarked “Black Creek” trail was, we passed an older man, sporting only day gear, and returning.  It was only 9 in the morning.  Perhaps this was a resident of the large cabin sitting on the end of Black Lake.  We reasoned that there must be a secret trail leading down to this private property.

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Bill had given us some secondhand beta that the northernmost valley was cliffy, marshy, and trail-less.  Also, this Black Creek Trail led into the southern valley and terminated in a meadow, the first notated meadow on the map.  I had originally planned to go in on the north and come out on the south but decided at the last minute to reverse course and go from south to north.  Navigation would be much easier that way.  The northern valley could be a challenge to enter.  Ken was already expressing his doubts about a loop.  We followed the trail into the southern valley.  As we ascended, the trail became more typical, but still quite good.  Beyond some great campsites (except for the bugs) alongside the creek and a lovely waterfall, we emerged into the meadow.

Someone was already here – I would have never thought that we would encounter other parties.  We actually saw no people, only their camp – and three grazing llamas.  Maybe it was the photographer, John Fielder.

We crossed the meadow directly.  At the far end, just beyond a thick patch of bluebells, another trail inclined into the forest.  We followed this much rougher, obviously unmaintained trail as best we could, occasionally losing it.  There are actually several trails criss-crossing here that one could follow.  Unfortunately, I don’t think any of these trails can prevent you from skipping the marshes that lay ahead.  The marshes last for possibly one mile and are slow going.  It was here that Ken began to despair.  He was able to pull it together though and continue on.  The marsh doesn’t let up for a while though and we did our best to stay on the driest sections we could.  The creek was on our right and our only other option would have been to move hard to the left and bushwhack through the forest.  It looked like equally difficult though, with numerous rocks and cliffs and fallen trees.  Eventually, the ground begins to ascend more steeply and dries out somewhat.  When we finally had good views of the upper valley in a shabby field, we realized it was almost time to cross the creek and head upward along a ramp to a shelf that held two small lakes.  We found the perfect place:  There’s a pond that forms on the right hand side of a rocky dike.  There’s another larger pond on the left side of the dike and there’s a great log crossing over the end of the pond where the creek flows down into the second pond.  We crossed here, followed the crest of the dike to the end of the pond on the right, then entered the forest climbing steeply up rocky ribs and grassy valleys.  The going was easy enough, just requiring persistence and occasional third class slab climbing.  We passed an idyllic campsite along a creek.  It was obvious that the lake was very close.  We passed on the left side of another dike, turned right and hiked up about twenty feet and arrived at the lake, still partially frozen.

I wanted to see what the second lake was like for camping so continued up to the second lake solo.  The camping sites weren’t good; the views weren’t as sweeping, there were fewer trees, and the lake was about 85% frozen still.  I left this bleak place and returned.  I suggested to Ken that we camp just below the first lake, on a grassy alpine knoll with the lake-fed creek running beside it.  By now, it was around 3:45pm and we hesitantly began preparing the camp.  We honored a ritual by roasting some hot dogs.  Topping it off with a brownie, we went to bed satisfied.

The next morning was cold.  I was surprised.  Though it was already mid-July, the upper valleys and peaks still held a lot of snow.  We decided to play the day by ear and see what we felt like doing, though we knew that we’d begin with a scramble up Peak “I”, the most remote of the lettered peaks.  It just out into the upper valley on a shelf, just beyond the upper lake.

We congregated on a small grassy island, put on crampons, and assembled almost nothing for our summit packs.  We started off climbing snow to the base of cliffy ledges.  We soloed up exposed 4th class ledges.  On the ridge, Ken announced that he had had enough exposure without a rope, which we had elected to leave back in Denver.  So, he waited while I set off for a scramble to the top.

I had assumed that the route would only entail 3rd and 4th class scrambling, which is typical for most Gore Range routes.  However, I couldn’t see all the way around the south side of the first tower, which cannot be safely soloed directly.  My heart sank when I scrambled around the corner and saw that a steep snowfield reached all the way to the sheer wall of the tower.  I thought about using an old Michael technique by adopting a sharp rock as a crude ice axe, but quickly abandoned the idea sine the snow was also loose.  I thankfully don’t have the summit drive that I used to.  However, a second look at the snow and tower revealed the key:  climb and squeeze in the mini bergeshrund between the snow and rock.  While this was slow-going, it worked beautifully.  When the going was too tight, I popped out above the rim of the snow and put my left foot on the snow and the right on the rock.  Traversing left above the snow and under more cliffs, I emerged onto the 2nd and 3rd class east face and worked my way up.  I ended up climbing under the summit on the right, turned to the left nearly 180 degrees and climbed up to the summit, which unfortunately sported no summit canister.  I didn’t linger long at all – only enough for some pictures.  I retraced my steps down.

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Back at the grassy island where we had set off from, we let our glissade-soaked pants dry out in the sun.  Boomer Pass, which was just behind us was our next objective.  From there, we would descend down to Bubble Lake for the third night out in the Gore Range (OK, the second legitimate camp, really).

Simple ascending traverses from grass to talus and finally snow led us to the top.  From here, a second remote summit, “The Elephant”, looked enticingly close, along a long jagged ridge, gaining less than 1000 feet of altitude from the high pass.  This route looked better than the ridge leaving the edge of Bubble Lake, certainly it was less elevation gain.  I decided to go for it.  Ken and I arranged to either meet at the ridge or the lake.  If there were a glissade path (Ken’s glissade path), then we’d meet at the lake.

The west ridge up the Elephant is solid and fun, just touching some 5th class moves.  I opted to not make some of the downclimbs since we were now separated.  The ridge runs into the south face which was more easily passed by crossing it on large talus blocks on the left and traversing under steep cliffs.  An eventual cut back to the left sent me along the final summit ridge which terminated in one of the smallest summits of Colorado.  I took pictures and immediately retraced my steps back to the ridge.  However, this time, I followed the ridge on it’s north side, which was the typical steep grassy ledges which is so common in the gore Range.

Ken wasn’t at the pass; I dropped down a bit, found the glissade spot and followed it down into the remote bowl.  Bubble Lake still remained a couple hundred feet below, just at treeline.  I followed streams and passed semi-frozen tarns before finding Ken on a small bluff overlooking the lake.  I had eyed a really cool looking peninsula, more of a spit really, that looked perfect for a campsite, but upon closer inspection, it was too brushy.  You can get a bivy into a few spots, but no tent.

The weather was now threatening.  Dark clouds had quickly moved in.  An hour after we set up the tent, while Ken was preparing the campfire, rain moved in, turning to groppel and hail.  We retreated to the tent and the fire was quickly doused.  Twenty minutes later, the rain abated and we emerged.  I was set on at least setting foot on the spit; it just seemed to be a perfect idyllic, remote location in the range – a quintessential Gore Range experience.  I dropped down to the lake with my rain jacket to check it out.  Sure enough, while wandering through the stunted pines and hopping the rocks, the clouds opened up again, this time for more than an hour.  I stood under the largest Douglas Fir until bright skies finally appearted again over the summit of Mount Powell.  Clouds swirled through the numerous cols on Ripsaw Ridge.  This sight, common in the Cascades, is uncommon in Colorado.  I made my way back to camp once the rain let up.  We spent the rest of the evening trying to coax a fire from the wet sticks.  With a lot of attention, we eventually did.

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The next morning was clear but windy.  We both decided that the best route would be to retrace our steps, a long day to be sure.  Ken was most worried about the rocky ramp that led to the lakes.  I was particularly not looking forward to the swampy section.  We reasoned, however, that the trails would be easier to follow on the way down.  Wrong!  It was much worse!  I judge that two ways:  My feet were much wetter, and we took too many wrong turns on the maze of rabbit runs.  The trails all forked off as if the trails were built (or created by the animals) going downhill.  So, two days before when we were hiking up, we couldn’t clearly see the various branches.  Descending though, picking the right trail is almost impossible.  But we finally made it out just beyond the meadow where the Black Creek Trail began.  Here, we poured out our boots and wrung out our socks.  Putting on new socks gave us renewed comfort.  Preparing a last antidote to the misery, our iPods, we set off again in zombie mode for the long hike out.

Mike and I finally conceded that it was too late in the year for an attempt of a Ripsaw Ridge traverse.  For one reason or another, we had to delay the trip until the middle of September.  Then the first snowstorm came and we had to postpone the trip and on this weekend we were expecting snow again.  At the last moment, it looked like the weather would hold, but it was going to get down into the teens in Vail, which meant even lower for our planned campsite around 11,400 feet.  Since we were going to attempt a traverse, we wanted to go as light as possible – no tent, no sleeping pads, light sleeping bags.  Well, it was too cold for that.  To make this long story chock full of contingencies short, we decided the night before to just take a day hike to Upper Piney Valley and try to climb Peaks “C Prime” and “D”.  These are the two neighbors due south of the more popular Mount Powell and Peak “C”. 

We met at the familiar spot at 5:30, took Mike’s jeep out to Vail and Piney Ranch and began hiking around 7:30 or 7:45.  There wasn’t a soul up at the ranch and the morning air was quite cold and crisp.  Most of the aspen leaves had fallen off but there were still pockets of golden leaves clinging to the branches.  Not long after we started hiking, the old trail detoured into a new trail.  The old trail follows the broad, flat river valley for nearly two miles and inevitably crosses lots of mud bogs.  There are also two trails in most places where there should be one, so I guess it was closed for re-vegetation.  I wonder if the detour trail will ultimately be the main trail because it’s not a good one at all.  It climbs unnecessarily high above the valley, then descends back down to the level of the waterfall.  You probably gain about 500 unnecessary feet on that trail.

I led us back down to the falls which were as dry as I’d ever seen them.  What was normally a ground-shaking rumble in Spring was probably only running at 10 to 20 percent of it’s full power!  Such is the nature of Fall.  We passed the Peak “C”/Mount Powell turnoff and headed into Upper Piney Valley.
 
The next objective was to find a spot that would afford us a reasonably easy ascent into the basin beneath Peak “D”.  From “Piney Bristles” a couple of weeks earlier, I’d seen a nice grass ramp running up to the basin, so I was hoping we could find a way to intersect with this ramp and follow it up.  Not far after we turned southward into the valley and we had a pretty good view of “The Spider”, we saw a chute heading up the slopes toward the basin.  So, we decided to go ahead and head up.  The ground was pretty rough with lots of fallen trees and rocks, all semi-covered by the wilted summer vegetation.  After a couple of hundred vertical feet we turned right and passed above some cliffs and emerged on to the grassy ramp.  We could see our route the rest of the way up.  It involved crossing the creek, climbing up to the waterfall and then to the basin.

The waterfall here is quite an anomaly for Colorado falls in that it’s a true vertical drop of about fifty to sixty feet.  Normally, if you look closely, you can see these falls all the way from Piney Ranch.  This time of year though, it’s invisible from far away and up close.  It’s not much more than a fine mist.  It’s probably awesome in Spring though.  I’ll have to return to check it out next Spring, no doubt. 

Normally you’d climb well to the right of the falls to get into the basin, but, after getting a close-up view of the falls, we decided to climb directly up the buttress on the left-hand side of the falls.  Mike started really close to the falls but backed off a bit since the cold water had formed a film of slick verglas on the rocks.  So, we climbed up the 4th class, exposed arete for about sixty feet and emerged onto the rocks level with the waterfall.  Right above us were two mountain goats:  a billy and a kid.  Suddenly the billy started walking towards us.  We weren’t sure if he was being curious or protective.  I started walking towards him to see if he’d stop.  He didn’t.  So, we turned and started going up into the basin on the left side.  They both started following us.  As we went higher, we saw even more goats.  Eventually, we ended up in the basin which had all sorts of nice tarns in it with thick amber grass all around.  The basin was completely surrounded by higher ground except for the spot where the waterfall was.

Right in front of us was the towering ridge that we needed to get on to climb both peaks.  We decided on a long grassy ramp that led up to the middle of the ridge between the two peaks.  This part of the climb was quite a slog.  Fortunately, it was a grassy slope which is common in this area as opposed to a loose scree-filled couloir.  I’m not sure exactly how long it took us to climb to the ridge but it took about an hour probably.  On the way, we both got really hungry but we were set on taking a lunch break on top of the ridge where all the views were.  Near the top, the wind really started picking up, which is something uncommon to the Gores.  We climbed over to the eastern side of the ridge out of the wind, but in the sun, and enjoyed the awesome views and some lunch.  We decided to climb Peak “C Prime” first which looked like a high thin rocky fin thrust into the air.  It definitely didn’t look easy.  After a twenty or thirty minute break, we set out along the ridge.  The ridge quickly turned into a 3rd class scramble and as we started up the peak, which started at a small notch, became 4th class.

The easiest way to climb the peak is to drop on to the southeast side of the ridge and climb up the slabby and exposed face.  Though it’s exposed, the rock is really solid.  We didn’t get onto the face right away.  Instead, we stayed on the left-hand part of the ridge and entered a forty foot steep dihedral.  After this, we got onto the slabby face and climbed it to the top.
 
The true summit of the peak is very much like Sunlight Peak in the San Juans.  It’s an exposed upright column.  We both took turns standing on top and posing for a summit shot.  Unfortunately, the lower part of the ridge fades into the column so it doesn’t look quite as exposed.  Still, it’s not as bad as Sunlight; there’s not a direct drop off the peak from the summit column.  I took some more pictures from the top and we headed down.  We took the easy way down which was to stay completely on the face until you see the notch that joins the main part of the ridge.

Back at the spot where we had lunch (and had subsequently dumped our packs), I switched out my film.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking and opened up my film without rewinding it!  D’oh no!  Thankfully, only a three or four pictures were ruined but I was able to duplicate them.

We put on our packs and headed towards Peak “D”.  The ridge along the way looked quite convoluted but not really that hard.  We were wrong about that assessment!
 
The majority of the ridge to Peak “D” was 3rd class but there were plenty sections of slow 4th class to climb through.  At one point we climbed up a very steep section of the ridge.  As we were climbing up, we could see sky through the back of the face!  Obviously, we were climbing up a tower.  We got to a wide ledge and Mike continued to the top through a narrow 5th class chimney.  Sure enough, this tower was impassable.  There’s a very prominent rock outcropping to the left (north) of Peak “D” that looks like an eagle’s beak.  We were on top of that.  So, we climbed back down thirty feet or so and traversed around.  We were close to the summit at this point fortunately.  The last 100 feet to the summit were mostly 4th class mixed with a little easier 3rd class stuff.

On the top, like Peak “C Prime”, there was no sign of any other climbers.  There certainly was no register but there wasn’t even a cairn.  We built cairns on both.  Unfortunately, I’d forgotten my peak register.  I put my last one on Peak “O” (“Little Powell”).  We spent a long time on top of Peak “D” studying the rest of the ridge and admiring the remote Black Creek drainage.  Peaks “E” and “G” (“F” was obscured by “E”) looked immense and difficult from this angle.  A one day traverse of this ridge would definitely be an accomplishment.  Maybe we’ll try it next year.
 
We wanted to get off of Peak “D” by an easier route so we continued towards Peak “E” with plans to drop down the saddle near the basin on the south side.  Along the way, we crossed some of the loosest couloirs that I’d ever been in.  Mike decided to continue down one of the couloirs because we had to pass over another rocky rib to get to the slopes that led to the low saddle.  And we couldn’t see what this terrain even looked like.  I decided to risk it, hoping for grassy slopes.  Before I left, we turned on Mike’s transceivers and headed our separate ways.  I had to climb back up a grassy ledge to get to the other side of the rib.  As I suspected, there were nice grassy slopes that led down to the saddle.  I radioed Mike a few times on the way down and upon arriving at the saddle, took a short break and took some pictures.  I was able to spot Mike, who was a speck coming out of the melted-out couloir.  I started bounding down the saddle which was fine dirt.  We met back up in the high part of the basin.
   
The fall sun was starting to arc towards the horizon.  We didn’t have much sunlight left and had a long hike out in front of us.  We still took the time to go check out the beautifully sculpted tarns that lay in the lower part of the basin.  We took a few pictures here and rested a bit.  Then we headed down.  We actually took a different way down, thinking it might be better.  Actually, it was a lot better, though I bet it would be fairly hard to follow up.  We were able to stay in moderate grassy slopes most of the time.  Sometimes we even were able to follow a game trail.  To the left was a large talus field that will serve as a landmark when I come back again.  We joined back up with the main trail right at a spot in the trail that crossed a small creek – the creek that was flowing out of the Peak “D” basin.  At this point, the sun was glowing golden on the upper parts of the valley.  By the time we made it to the falls, the sun had set.  And by the time we were with a mile of the Jeep, the stars were out. It was super quiet up here…pretty neat.

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We waited until late June to attempt a neat looking couloir on “Corner Peak” (Point 12,709) and the connecting ridge that led to Mount Powell’s saddle (aka “Cataract Points”) so that Dan could come along.  Dan, Ken, and I left Denver around 1pm and took a leisurly approach to Piney Lake near Vail.  When we arrived at Piney Lake Ranch, we discovered that they were now charging $5 to enter!  Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be too strictly enforced because the guy attending the gate said we could just hike around on a new trail that paralleled the ranch and we were welcome to come in the other direction.  So, we packed up, put on our sunscreen, threw on our packs and headed out.  
 
This was maybe the 6th or 7th time I’ve made the hike along the flat slopes along Piney River.  I enjoy it every time I go.  

It was 53 weeks ago that Ken and I were here attempting Peak “C” and Mount Powell.  I don’t know if it was the extra week, but there seemed to be less snow on the mountains this year.  We definitely had more snow this year but perhaps this June was extra hot and melted out the snow a lot faster.  I have pictures from late July of 1997 where there was even more snow than there was this year, three weeks earlier. 

Anyway, we took a break at the falls where we climbed down to the base and took some pictures.  Dan was duely impressed with the waterfall.  This is one of the best falls that I’ve seen in the state.  We headed down to the base of the main section of falls for pictures (left).  The cataracts continue on steeply down the rocks past this, but this is the tallest section.  These two falls you see in this picture probably total about 75 feet.
 
After branching off of the main trail about 5 minutes past the falls, we began the steep ascent up to the spot that I had picked out on the map – the confluence of the main creek coming off of the Mount Powell/Peak “C” basin and the smaller perennial stream coming off of Corner Peak.  After plowing through the classic dense foliage and filthy black mud, we arrived at the spot which featured a perfect campsite as well.  Dan and I scouted around a little more up on the slopes towards Corner Peak perhaps trying to find a more private campsite since this one was almost right on the trail.  We found some nice spots but they were so far from a water source that they actually would have been more of a pain, although one had quite a spectacular view (below).

After setting up camp, building a small fire, and eating some chow, I decided to use the remaining light to scout the route, which is totally undocumented.  I went up to the confluence and crossed to the right (south) side. Actually we were camped maybe 100 yards below the confluence.  I climbed up about 100 feet to a small saddle to find another charming little basin to camp in.  I then turned westward and climbed up 3rd class ledges about 200 more feet to an aerie with a commanding view of the basin.  From there, I took several nice sunset shots, but more importantly I was able to spy most of the route on Corner Peak.  To my dismay, I noticed the couloir was almost entirely melted out.  No precipitation and a hot June was obviously the culprit.  The couloir looked very steep and intimidating from here so I was a little relieved that it was indeed melted out.  I went back to report the bad news to the other guys.  We were all bummed about the news and the two of them didn’t really want to attempt Corner Peak but I did.  They had a good point by saying that we ought to wait and try the couloir next year when it was in better shape as opposed to “forcing” a climb of the ridge.  I was a little more bummed but understood.  Dan was all fired up about climbing Peak “C”, which still seemed to be in good shape since it’s climbing couloirs faced north and west.  So, Ken decided that he’d lead Dan up Peak “C” and I decided to explore the basin and take pictures and maybe try traversing the ridge backwards.

Ken and Dan were planning on getting up at 5am.  Of course, the alarm didn’t go off and we all slept until 6:30.  We got ready really quickly though and headed out.  

My first plan was to climb up the the small notch above Kneeknocker Pass on the route to Mount Powell and take pictures of the stunning view of Peak “C” from there.  Last year, my lens was broken and my Peak “C” pics didn’t come out very well.  At the base of the first couloir we split up.  I made quick progress up Mount Powell and was able to take some neat shots of Dan and Ken climbing the first couloir (below).  At the notch on Mount Powell’s south ridge, I took several pictures of Peak “C” with different settings to ensure that I’d have a good picture, then headed back down.
 
Back near the base of the basin, I started heading west towards the western Saddle of Mount Powell where I would have a good view of the upper Cataract Creek Basin, which is the basin used to climb Eagle’s Nest. From the saddle, I started to climb the Cataract Points. The first one wasn’t very big but was pretty tough – difficult 3rd class. The next one was a very high point, the one along the ridge east past “Cataract Sentinel”, Point 12,626.  This Cataract Point was way too difficult for me to attempt alone and as the terrain got really tough (difficult 4th class), I backed down and headed back to camp.  Along the way I took several stunning shots of Peak “C” and Ripsaw Ridge.  I figured I’d head back to camp and meet Ken and Dan there.  I arrived at 11 am convinced that they would be back at camp.  The weren’t. So, in the meantime, I had a little food, laid out in the sun, then refreshed myself with some creek water.  When they weren’t back by noon, I started to think that something was wrong so I decided I would climb up on the slopes of “Cataract Sentinel” (Point 12,626) so I could have a commanding view of the basin.  I left my pack at camp, drank a lot of water, then strapped on my camera and fanny pack.  I zoomed up the peak.  About halfway up, I saw Ken glissading down the 1st couloir and then I saw Dan slowly backing down.  They were OK so I decided I would at least back this peak so I continued up.  I blew my whistle at them but they didn’t hear me.

This peak is a joy to climb and I highly recommend it.  The lower ramparts consist of grassy ledges that are solid and a pleasure to hike up.  The upper part of the climb is very craggy and a great 3rd class scramble.  I’d recommend following my route:  From the confluence of the two creeks (the one coming from Powell, and the smaller one coming off of the Corner Peak basin) head up the steep grassy slopes on the left side of the creek.  Cross the creek and move onto the lower slopes of Cataract Sentinel when it becomes easy.  Traverse past some smooth rock slabs then start up the grassy slopes. Soon, I realized I was in a grassy gully that’s easy to follow.  If you’re consistently follow the easiest, grassiest section, you’ll eventually pop out on top of a rocky ridge.  I started climbing the rocky ridge which was an awesome 3rd class scramble. From here, the views are stunning.  I still couldn’t see Corner Peak from here but I followed the ridge up to a false summit and then could see it.  However, this being a false summit, the ridge hooked to the right and continued up.  A very steep tower appeared to be the top.  I continued on and reached to top of the tower and realized that this was another false summit.  I could see the real summit beyond this point about a hundred yards.  There appeared to be a cairn!  After this final scramble I found myself on the top. A bout one hour and 1800 feet later, I was on top!  There was even a summit register!  Of course, only a handful of people had signed it, a few of which I recognized as guidebook authors and others who have climbed all of the 13ers!  In other words, some major hikers and climbers!

I took a picture of Peak “C” from the top…a neat angle to view the peak.  After sitting around for about 10 minutes, I headed down.

I headed down a different route.  I saw a gully that looked like it went straight down to the Peak “C”/Mount Powell basin.  I figured that if headed down to the basin that would be about 300 feet of trail that I could use to descend.  This route was further east than my ascent route and was a little trickier.  For one thing, the gully was a bit looser as there was a good bit of scree.  Also, near the bottom, I had to wander of mini maze of cliffs but was able to pick a safe route to the base.  I hooked back up with the creek and trail and followed my way back to camp where Dan and Ken were waiting.  It all worked out in the end.  We all enjoyed our respective climbs.  The hike out was rather grueling.  We were all spent by the time we arrived back at Dan’s truck at Piney River Ranch.

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Finally, I stood on the summit of Peak “C” after a failed attempt with my Colorado Mountain Club’s Basic Mountaineering School group a couple of years earlier.  It was good to do another long hike in the Gore Range too.  The Gore Range is probably my favorite in the state of Colorado.  (Note: I wrote this comment a while back.  Since then, the Gore Range is my undisputed favorite range in Colorado.  Isn’t it obvious?)  It’s generally devoid of crowds (since there are no 14ers around and the approaches are long), there’s lots of water, vegetation, and the peaks are dense and rugged.  This particular trip also included a climb of Mount Powell, the highest in the range.

I had gotten most of my climbing partners really excited about a climb of Peak “C”, however, for this climb it was only Ken and I.  We left Denver fairly late and started hiking around 5pm from the Piney Lake Ranch.  We wanted to arrive at camp with plenty of time before sunset to make our dinner a little more enjoyable, so we really zoomed up the trail and arrived around 7:15pm.   Actually, the true reason we hiked so fast was that we had no bug spray and the mosquitos are notorious in this area!  All we could do was flee or be eaten alive.  Arriving at the base of Peak “C” is quite tricky, or at least it used to be, see below.  There are several false trail turnoffs.  Fortunately, I’ve taken lots of people up this trail to the waterfall on Piney Creek so I knew exactly where to go.  The correct trail turnoff is a lefthand turn about 5, maybe 10, minutes after the waterfall.

Note:   I’ve visited the Piney Valley trail a lot since then and the turnoff to Peak “C” is much more prominent now than it was in the past.  There’s a big cairn there now.  Back in ’96 or so when I first visited the area, it was nothing more than an obscure and tiny dirt path.  I only found it on the return; I bushwacked a lot on the way up!
 
At the trail turnoff, the trail becomes really steep and difficult.   After about 15 minutes, you emerge in an open area with outstanding views of another fun Gore Range Peak, “The Spider”.  The rest of the trail is occassionally filled with filthy deep black mud and lots of large leafy plants that block the trail.  Parts of the trail ascend up really steep sections and move along small cliffs.  The trail goes on and on and doesn’t seem to end, but finally breaks out of treeline with an outstanding view of Peak “C” and the lower ramparts of Mount Powell.  The small basin is quite beautiful.

We set up our bivy sacks and started dinner.  We were able to point out the peaks in the Holy Cross wilderness as well as Holy Cross itself.  We also eventually identified Capitol Peak and Mount Sopris as well.  Ken ended up sleeping out under the stars.  I was in my bivy sack but it was completely unzipped so I had great views of the stars too.
 
The next morning at 6:30 we headed out for Peak “C” which was only a few hundred yards away but 2000 feet straight up.  Our route on Peak “C” ascended the prominent south facing couloir which led to a small saddle on a ridge spur.  The first couloir wasn’t bad at all, maybe only 35 degrees.  It wasn’t very long at all either, about 500 feet.  The snow was in perfect condition this day, the snow wasn’t in the sun and was semi-hard and our crampons bit in and gripped the snow tightly.  At the top of the saddle, we traversed over to the long western couloir that is visible from Piney Lake.  This couloir is steeper on average, about 45 degrees and, at 1000 feet, a lot longer.  The couloir was in great condition as well and we flew up it.  The top of the couloir gets steep though.   It topped out at 52 degrees but the snow was in such good condition that it didn’t bother me that much.  The tip top of the couloir was melted out so we removed our crampons and scrambled up to the ridge.  At the ridge (right) we were greeted with great views of the Gores.  The final ridge climb is only about 200 feet and a lot of fun.   The drops on either side are precipitous but I felt safe on the ridge.  Ken was behind me as we approached the summit and I got kind of excited and zoomed up the ridge and finally stood on the summit. 
 
From the summit, our campsite was the size of a pinhead, though the summit from camp looked quite accessible.  Mount Powell (left) was to the north and looked really steep.  To the south, we saw the rugged and numerous peaks of the rest of the Gore Range.  The peaks are so dense that they are very hard to identify.  We could, however, identify peaks like “East Thorn”, Peaks “D”, “E”, “F”, “Corner Peak”, and West Partner Peak.
 

After a while on the summit, we began the descent.  We were kind of apprehensive about the downclimb but because this couloir was protected from the sun until late in the day, our downclimb was really easy with crampons.  We got back down to the base of the first couloir at 10:45am.  Since it was so early, we decided to be ambitious and climb Mount Powell as well.  We started up Mount Powell, which is a very different mountain from Peak “C”.  Mount Powell is a steep climb along grassy and rocky slopes.  We shot for a small notch in the north ridge where we squeezed through and continued traversing up the peak.  From the summit of Peak “C”, these slopes looked really steep but the traversing and climbing was easy.  Peak “C” (below) looked nearly unclimbable from the slopes of Mount Powell.  Eventually, we arrived at one of the snowfields and we kick-stepped our way up to the flat area about 100 feet below the talus strewn summit.
 
We arrived at the summit at 1:08pm.  The summit of Mount Powell has a couple of flat slabs on them that we used to lay out and bask in the sun on.  We stayed on the summit for a long time and enjoyed the views.  We had a perfect view of “Eagles Nest” as well as other minor peaks like Meridian Peak and “Dwarf Pyramid”.   Ken took a stellar panoramic shot and I spent some time labeling the peaks that I was able to pick out.  It also took a lot of work with a map to determine some of these peaks.

On the descent, Ken descended the snowfield and I took one of the ridges.  I was able to see keep Ken in view about 80% of the time since I was much higher.  Eventually, we met up and headed back down the same way we came up.   Finally we arrived back at camp and we hung around for a couple of more hours, cleaning up, eating, relaxing in the sun, etc.  I rinsed and invigorated myself again with cool water from one of the small streams.  We had originally planned on spending two nights out and climb the peaks on two different days but we decided to hike out Saturday afternoon.
 
We hiked out really fast but as we arrived down in the valley a small thunderstorm moved in and drenched us.  Hiking through the rain was actually really fun.  The raindrops were really cold but in a way it felt really good and refreshing.  Also a really pretty mist moved in around the valley and the peaks.  Everything seemed to get really quiet except for the chirping of birds.  

This trip was really difficult; it involved 7000 feet of elevation!  But, the more difficult ones tend to be the more memorable ones.  This was definitely one of my all-time favorite overnights, if not the best.
 

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