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Jean and I did a wonderful 3-day trip last week. We managed a winter ascent of Kit Carson Mtn. and made an attempt on Columbia Point. The camping was relatively pleasant and the climbing was spicy enough to get our blood flowing without being desperate. I was able to rule out all but one option as a reasonable route for me to summit Columbia Point in winter. I would have to reach the saddle on the East Ridge from near the summit of Unnamed 13799 (aka “Obstruction Peak”) and then determine whether I could finish the job. Would I be technically up for it and would the margin of safety be acceptable? It was obviously too much for a one-day trip, so another overnight would be required. Despite the broken track, I couldn’t imagine doing that again this winter; I put it on the list for next. So, time to stop thinking about it, right? Afraid not, Columbia Point was stuck in my proverbial craw.
On something approximating the spur of the moment, I get up at 2:00 AM on Wednesday. By 4:50, I’m bushwhacking by headlamp from near the 8,200’ Spanish Creek TH. After a half hour I find the track and settle in for a long plod. This is my 4th trip up the valley in the last two months. I can turn on the autopilot and let my mind wander. Dawn reveals heavy fog above treeline. Will it burn off? From 11,800’, I use snowshoes for a mile or so. I cache them and begin a steep snowy scree climb that avoids the hard snow gully that delayed me on December 17th. I’ve left the clouds below. That should be a good thing; unfortunately, I can now see the East Ridge and the face to its left. It’s scary to say the least.
Snowed-up slabs force me to within a few hundred feet of Unnamed 13799, so I might as well make sure I climb something today. I sit on top at 10:45. The warm-up phase is complete after a mere six hours, 5-6 miles, and 5600’. The fog finally seems to be dissipating as I work my way down to the 13,460’ saddle. Holy shaboly momma, that looks steep and nasty. Lou Dawson has a fine photo of the route and concludes that “There is no way around this face … it’s hard to find a safe ridge line … only way with any avalanche safety is via a series of roped pitches that stick as close to the ridge as possible …”. Yes, I knew all that before leaving the house and I’ve foolishly neglected to bring a rope and a belayer. I suppose that decades ago I would have been competent and nervy enough to try this by myself. Today I’ll just go up a little ways until I hit my fear threshold.
I cache poles and start up with axe and crampons. The ridge crest is too spooky to consider. The face is a series of snow fields broken by down sloping slabby outcrops. The snow varies from quite hard to bottomless beneath a three-inch crust. Looking down, the rock disappears and a sliding pond curves to the south and runs forever. The trick is to weave around and try to connect the outcrops. I also want to avoid traverses that would undermine a slope; I try to climb straight up when possible. I slowly break a trench with my knees rather than making individual steps.
I have a goal of an outcrop about halfway up. Once there, it appears that I can scrape crampon points on slab and gain a little ground. Now I’m in waist-deep, but protected by a rock wall. I turn a corner and the ridge crest above the serious exposure looks reachable. My legs are shaking. Is that from fatigue, fear, excitement, or amazement? I’m on the ridge. The wind has found me, but I don’t care; it’s a safe and easy stroll to the false summit. I don’t remember how interesting the terrain is to the actual top. I can see it now. Oh man, I believe this is going to go.
I downclimb 50’ to the notch, then work my way along a ledge on the south side. The exposure is minimal. It’s slow going with some 3rd class-ish rock work in crampons. At 1:00 PM, I’m sitting next to the summit plaque. Shall I kiss it? The most recent register entry is September 20th, several days after a visit from the Dawson-Kirk-Sunwall-Traskos branch of the 14erWorld family. Mist blows around the high peaks, but the weather is not a threat. The route we climbed last week on Kit Carson looks surprisingly hardcore from this perspective. Tim is right; I really do have to get a digital camera.
I’d love to hang here for hours, but time is an issue and there’s that face to survive. Pay attention now Ken. Nothing up here is difficult, but there are infinite opportunities to screw up. The descent goes fine; in my trench, I feel naively safe and secure. I’m soon removing crampons and trading an axe for poles. I slowly climb back to the summit of Unnamed 13799. It’s a wonderful spot to sit out of the wind and admire the Northwest Couloir on Crestone Peak.
I head down, get into a nice rhythm, reclaim snowshoes, and find the hard-packed trail at treeline. The burn area is not what the doctor ordered, but it doesn’t take long. Cruising along below, I’m feeling pleasantly fatigued and satisfied with myself. In over 27 years of climbing Colorado peaks, this has been one of the great days. The headlamp goes on for the last half hour and I’m down at 5:45.
End of the story? For the moment. |