Halo Ridge

Jake has been bugging me for nearly a year about doing Holy Cross via the long but striking Halo Ridge route.  After spending a few weeks on the couch thanks to a vicious weed-pulling incident, I knew I was nearly ready.  Needing to find that extra edge, I timed the climb for the day after coming back from a two-week road trip at sea level.  Just to add a little more spice, we also had the Bells Traverse planned for the following day.  I was ready to rock.

Numbers:
13.5 miles
6,160' of gain
Notch Mountain (13,237')
Point 13,248'
Holy Cross Ridge (13,831')
Mt. of the Holy Cross (14,005')
8ish hours

Background - I had done a casual climb of Holy Cross with friends via the standard north ridge route a few years back and thought it was fine, but nothing special.  I'd been looking for an excuse to come back and either do the Cross Couloir or Halo Ridge.  Jake and I had been planning on two full days in the Elks, but a freak mudslide just west of town diverted us through Denver and we decided to swap out our first Elk climb for this one, which we had slated for later in the summer.

We pulled into a campsite at the trailhead just after dark, bunkered down, and were on the trail the next morning at 4:45.  We decided to add in a little more spice, opting to go over 13,237' Notch Mountain from Half Moon Pass, whereas the normal Halo Ridge route starts out on a well-defined trail east of the ridge for a couple of miles before ascending to the semi-famous Notch Shelter midway through the ridge.

Notable facts about Notch Mountain.  It may be the state capitol for spiders.  Furthermore, the concentration of non-aquatic mosquitos on the north ridge of Notch Mountain is impressive.  Those guys spawn from rocks.

Looking east toward the Mosquito Range from Half Moon Pass

For the uninformed, a halo is a circular angel-thing one wears when they pick up trash that isn't theirs or eat their vegetables.  Halos happen to be somewhat circular in shape, much like this ridge.  Actually, Halo may be a misnomer.  Maybe Horseshoe ridge or mostofaHalo Ridge would be more accurate.  This picture is taken from the summit of Notch Mountain, near the beginning of the horseshoe.

The reason we opted to summit Notch Mountain was for a short bout of class 3 between its two summits.

Going over Notch Mountain took us a bit longer than we anticipated, and we didn't stumble upon the shelter until about 3 hours into our morning.  I had heard it was a condemned shack these days.  I was pleasantly surprised when I saw this four-star alpine resort.

With Point 13,248' in the background

From Notch Shelter until the summit of Holy Cross, the views remained impressive while the footing became blockier and blockier.  By the time we got the the summit of centennial peak Holy Cross Ridge, I was ready to be done.  It was hot.  Windless.  I had a throbbing headache - something I don't get all that often at altitude.  Unless I'm out of shape and coming from sea level.  Hmmm.

Bowl of Tears

sub-peak of Holy Cross Ridge

Mt. of the Holy Cross from Holy Cross Ridge, which isn't really a ridge, it's a ranked peak.  Or, more precisely, it's the second-highest point of a couple-mile long ridge also named Holy Cross Ridge, whose highest point isn't the point Holy Cross Ridge but the Mt. of the Holy Cross.  Got it?

Bird

 We were on Holy Cross's summit sometime around 10:30.  I wasn't having much fun; the sun had really sucked me dry, and I made Jake stagger with me back to the Jeep.  Man, I can't tell you just how excited I was to re-ascend that 900' back up over Half Moon Pass at the end of the day.  Those of you who have done it know what I'm talking about.  Those who haven't...you'll love it.  It's like a bonus climb.

HC and the Bowl of Tears basin.  

Holy Cross feels very much unlike any of its Sawatch brothers.  It's not a long drive from Vail, but it sure seems far away by the time you're standing atop it.  The approach is more committing than the other Sawatch peaks.  Its north face holds more ferocity.  It offers a few challenging alternate routes.  And the Bowl of Tears Basin and Cross Creek just seem to have a personality unlike that of all the others in the range.

Halo Ridge whooped me up pretty good, to the point where I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to rally for the Bells the next day.  Jake and I stopped at the Glenwood Hot Springs to cool down while on our way that afternoon.  Big surprise, there's a reason they're called HOT Springs.  Maybe not the best choice for trying to cool down on a scorcher of an afternoon.

The Angel

Monday
Mt. Shavano(14,229') via the Angel of Shavano
"Esprit Point" (13,630')
9.0 miles
4,650' gain
~6 hour RT

Fun, "easy" day with Jake.  Last time we were up Shavano was a little...hairier.  Some pictures from the day.

The Angel runs out at about 12,100'.  The right arm melts first, but the left is good until 13,300'

Is it the socks or the shorts that make the man?

Dirty, dirty snow

Found this in my mitten.  Nice surprise.

I had a couple extra minutes upon topping out on the Angel to reach 13,620' Esprit Point

Same peak, more fun.

Jake's sailboat

The bottom 200' or so was dirty

Colorado Trail near the Blank Cabin TH

Spring Mountain

Sunday and Monday were some easygoing play days.

Sunday
Spring Mountain (13,244')
~10.0 miles
~4,200' gain
~7 hour RT

After Saturday's hike, I slept like a baby in the back of my jeep.  So much so that I didn't even hit the trail on Sunday until 9:00.

Original plan was to do a counter-clockwise loop:  Comanche Trail to Comanche Peak, Spring Mountain, Venable Peak, and back on the Venable Trail.  I wasn't sure if this was feasible, as the valley portion of Saturday's hike gave me more postholing fun than you can shake a stick at.  Sure enough, I saw what appeared to be continuous snow coverage on the Comanche Trail starting at about 10,600'.  I immediately turned right and gained Spring Mountain's loooooong east ridge.

Horn Peak.  Snow covering the north-facing headwall into the Hiltman Creek basin

At about 11,100' on the ridge, I found this abandoned cabin.  Unlike other ones, this cabin had no visible trails leading to or fro.  There were some sizable new trees growing inside the cabin.  When I finally did find a faint trail leading away from the cabin, it was so faint I couldn't imagine many people had been here in the past 50 years or so.  A hunting cabin, perhaps?

Middle-of-nowhwere bed and breakfast

A few snow climbs?

 The final pitch to the top of Spring Mountain was a little more engaging than anything else I had encountered during the day.

The fun class 2+ summit pitch leading to Spring Mountain

I got some bad news once I topped out on Spring.  My original plan to circle up and around Venable, then take the southerly-exposed Venable Trail back.  The view below convinced me that finding a way back might be challenging.  With some clouds building and the Hiltman Creek basin to the south snowed in fairly well, I opted instead to punt and head back the way I came.

Boo.  Coulda been done with axe and 'pons.

I got back to the TH around 4 and high-tailed it for Salida.  I booked a night at the Simple Lodge Hostel in Salida, showered up, and devoured an entire large pizza for the second night in a row at Moonlight Pizza.  

Spread Eagle

155 days.  That's the longest stretch of mountainlessness I've experienced in the better part of a decade.  Luckily, this terrible streak came to an end with three consecutive days of getting up high in the beginning of June.

Spread Eagle Peak (13,423')
"Peak of the Clouds" UN 13,524
Rito Alto Peak (13,794')
Hermit Peak (13,350')
June 1, 2013
10.9 mile loop
5,483' gain
9h30min

Friday  
My goal was to get in the jeep and disappear for three or four days.  My climbing partner Jake wouldn't be free until Monday, and we hadn't yet decided on a plan, so I packed the kitchen sink in preparation for anything - car camping, snow climbing, ridge running, hiking in, you name it, I was ready for it.  As I 'waited' for Jake over the weekend, I thought it might be a good time to head to the Sangre de Cristo Range and dip my toes in the water.  After all, I hadn't been above treeline since December.  The Sangres, as usual, are closer to snow-free than their northern counterparts.

Saturday
Alarm went off at 2:00.  After a bit of dilly-dallying, I was on my way out by 3:30, and in Westcliffe by 5:00.  I finally settled on a group of peaks - I would park at the 9,800' Taylor Road "trailhead" (if you can call it that), ascend 13,423' Spread Eagle Peak, circle around to the west and south, hit peaks until I got tired, then drop down to the Rainbow Trail and take it north back to the jeep.

Taylor Road TH, 9800'.  The last mile of road is pretty rough.  The TH is more of a dead end than anything else, but if you're looking for solitude, you'll find it here

My experience in the mid-Sangres from last May left an impression on me - during this time of year, it's hard to avoid postholing.  Making matters worse is the depth (1-4 feet depending), range in elevation (on northern aspects it was continuous from 10,800' to 11,800') , and concreteish quality of the snow.  I departed with the intention of leaving valley trails for ridges early and often.  On this particular day, I think I made it about 400 yards before making a beeline up Spread Eagle Peak's SE ridge.

It was a nice trail...really!

Living tree, Spread Eagle Peak, Dead tree

 Upon gaining the ridge, I settled into a rhythm.  I enjoyed the direct line and quick elevation gain, as it afforded me the usual breathtaking views of the Wet Mountain Valley.

Living up here is tough

Spread Eagle's SE ridge

Spread Eagle's summit, looking west.  Hermit is on the left, Rito Alto in the center, and "Peak of the Clouds" (UN 13,524) is on the right

The route from the summit of Spread Eagle was straightforward.  No surprises or difficulties other than my need to adjust to altitude.  By the time I made it to the top of Rito Alto, my head was starting to throb.  Taking a look into the Megan Lake valley, I thought some of the snow would be avoidable once I got down there.  (oops)  I made work of one last bump, Hermit Peak, before making some quick glissades to Megan Lake.

Rito Alto's east face, seen from the UN 13,524/Rito Alto saddle

Rito Alto's summit.  Looking south to the Crestones...the view that never gets old!

Shortly after Megan Lake, I found what I feared - concrete everywhere.  The trail was rough and obscure enough that it was tough to locate as it intermittently exposed itself between blobs of snow.  I'm not sure which was more of a pain - postholing or bushwhacking down the river valley.  Eventually the snow gave up and I jogged the trail back to the jeep.  I felt pretty terrible by the time I was done.  Eight hours above treeline when you're not acclimated will do that to you.  However, just being in a place I love made it a GREAT day.

Spread Eagle, UN 13,524', Rito Alto, Hermit from Taylor Road TH

Once back at the jeep, it was time to regroup.  I managed to eat an entire large pizza at R's in Westcliffe.  I then made the quick drive to the Comanche/Venable TH to prepare for Sunday's adventure.

Breakfast Burritos

Since I'm finally healthy, I thought it would be fun to tempt fate and race with a little more frequency than usual this summer.

May 4 - Collegiate Peaks Trail Run 25 mile

May 25 - Jemez Mountain Trail Run 50k

June 9 - Garden of the Gods 10 mile

June 15 - Mt. Evans Ascent

July 7 - Summer Roundup 12k

July 27 - Grand Mesa 60k

August 4 - La Luz Trail Run

August 18 - Pikes Peak Marathon

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of bonking "like a boss" - complete with a little bit of stagger in the last few of my 22 miles.  Crystal Park is...up there.  As I passed the Crystal Park Cantina, I noticed they were serving breakfast.  Think about it:  what could possibly be more appetizing when you're tapped out and on the ropes than a beefy breakfast burrito?  I ended up gorging myself to the point where I called the ladyfriend for a ride home.  Soo weak.  But the breakfast burrito was soo good!

CC - Santa Fe Trail - Bear Creek Trails - Section 16/Palmer Trail - Crystal Park Road

Laps 31 and 32 on the Incline this morning.  32 / 104 * 365 = 108.8, so I'm still on pace for 101 this year.

101

Got some pre-fatassery in this weekend.  Saturday morning, I did a little jaunt up Crystal Park Rd to catch Intemann Trail.  No headlamp, so I had to time it right and hit it right around 6:45. 

The Waldo Fires were about the crappiest thing to happen here in COS this past year.  I suppose the silver lining is the new Fatass now incorporates many of the North Cheyenne Canyon trails that have long been my favorite.

Pikes Peak/Manitou Ave to Crystal Park Rd
to Intemann to Section 16 to White Acres to Red Rocks.

I'm thinking 101 is a good number of Incline ascents to hit this year.  As of today, only 100 more to go. 

Pity Party

August 19th, 2012.  Sometime shortly after midnight.  I begrudgingly offer up my wrist to the Half Pipe crew chief.  Tap out.  I'm done.  All this time and effort.  All the miles of preparation.  The rehearsal in my mind.  The day trips to Twin Lakes, Winfield, the Fish Hatchery.  For what?  For this?

One quick snip.  It's over.

Nearly two hundred days have passed since that sequence of events seared itself into my memory.  And yet the pain that decision has given me won't subside.  How I wish it was the only residual pain from that weekend.

My achilles had become fairly tender over the course of 2012.  It never begged me to stop, but I could tell it was there.  Nor was it the reason I dropped out at Leadville.  I didn't even have that much trouble with it when I attempted to start training again four weeks later.  But every run I went on last fall made it worse, to the point where I finally cried uncle in mid-October.  I didn't run a step for another six weeks and instead focused on rehab - heat, ice, ultrasound, stretching, and self-pity.  OK, mostly self-pity.

From August 19 to November 19, I ballooned to a full 156 pounds - nearly 20 more than I carried with me into Leadville.  Running sucked.  Not running sucked.  Thinking about running sucked.  Thinking about not running sucked.  Hearing other people talk about running sucked.

Over the course of the past month, though, I've seen glimmers of hope.  Running hasn't made my achilles any better, but it hasn't been getting worse, either.  I was able to hobble up Belford with Jake on Sunday.  Not much in the form of snow cover, but wind from the southwest wasn't pleasant.  It definitely motivated us not to mosey over to Oxford.  Up and down in 4:57, my 119th summit of a 14,000' peak.

There's a reason you won't find much snow here

Paying salutations to my friend, Hope Pass (the low point to the right of the sunny mountain in the center)

With the publishing of this post, my pity party officially is over.  I'm definitely not 100% healthy, and might not be for a long time, but I'm sick of sitting back and letting this own me.

Winfield wanderings

So I've heard rumors and hope someone in the know can clear things up for me.  I heard a few months back about a "parallel trail" to the Winfield Road that was being built to help alleviate congestion during this section of the LT100.  When I heard this, I assumed there would be a ribbon cut right next to the road, but as I drove in to Winfield to do some Nolan's scouting last night, I saw no such thing. 

This morning I thought I'd sniff around Sheep Gulch and get a look at the south side of Hope Pass.  About 1/3 of a mile in, though, I found a trail splitting off to the left.  It looked interesting, so I followed it, not sure if it was going to be of the uphill or downhill variety.  Turns out it simply traversed the Clear Creek valley a couple hundred feet above the Winfield road.  It had more ups, downs, turns, and other trail-ish stuff than the road, and ran about 3 min per mile slower.  It climbed from 10,200' to about 10,550' at its high point before dropping down to a 4WD about a half mile west of Winfield proper.  It was fairly new and well-maintained until just before that junction - looks like it was constructed in the past month or so.  However, it wasn't complete - it turned into a social trail for maybe a quarter to a half mile on its west end.  It also dropped onto the road later than I had expected.

So I'm wondering a few things.  Is this the trail I heard about?  I assume so.  Are there plans to change the course to take advantage of this trail?  Will distance be cut off elsewhere or will the course just get a little longer?  And how much slower would the race run if this trail is used?  (I'd estimate 10-15 minutes)

Sheep Gulch TH is bottom center.  "Parallel trail" starts where the red line takes a sharp left, 10:30ish direction

Lake City Lessons, Tenmile almost Traversed, Nolans run-thru countdown

To not mention the Lake City 50 would do disservice to a wonderful ultra, wonderful town, wonderful time with wonderful friends.  I do believe that the benefit of recency has fleeted, though, so I will give the quite abridged version.  Maybe I should have titled this:  how to compound a problem by overcompensating for it, how to be a bonehead, how not to do your nutrition, or plain ol how to try hard to do the right thing and still bungle it.

I wanted to not pull a Matt Carpenter by putting it all out there in late June just to find the tank hadn't refilled by Pb.  Knowing how hard it would be to not all-out race SJS, I figured I could force the issue by spending uber time in the mountains preceding the race.  Interesting philosophy; I was miserably sore when I woke up on Saturday morning.  With no desire to push on trashed legs, I quickly settled in way back of the leaders.  I estimate I was in 50th place by the time we hit the trails at mile 2.5. 

Everyone around me settled down eventually, and I rolled into the Williams Aid station feeling better than I did at the start.  I had 'gotten ahead' on nutrition, having put down some gels to go along with a very concentrated mixture of Hammer Perpetuem.  Up the Carson climb, I found a VERY comfortable pace, but it still found me reeling in runner(hiker) after runner. 

Once on the divide, I began to wonder how things were shaking out and even considered seeing what was under the hood.  Around mile 28, a spectator informed me I was in 8th place.  I could see 3 or 4 shapes up over the next ridge.  How did THAT happen?  About the same time I decided to throw down a little bit, my nutrition began to fall apart.  I realized my Perpetuem mixture was beginning to haunt me - just the thought of another sip made me nauseous, while I began to crave plain ol H20 like crazy. 

At the Yurt aid, I attempted to catch up and put down a large quantity of water.  Things seemed to be more under control until I realized that none of the water I drank was going anywhere - it was still sloshing around in my gut.  Probably needed some salt!  The steep downhill from mile 35 to the Slum aid station saw me give back a good half-dozen places as my stomach began cramping bad enough to force me into walking. 

When I pulled into Slum, I took a HUGE pull straight from a Morton's shaker and washed it down with as much water as I could handle - which wasn't much, considering how much was sitting in my stomach at the time.  Within a mile from Slum, I discovered two things.  #1 - yes, I was correct in assuming I was sodium deficient.  The major bloating and such I had experienced went away, and suddenly I found myself able to sweat again.  #2 - I was now way too rich in sodium and thirstier than I can ever remember being.  I had just jettisoned my second water bottle at Slum and had sucked the one I had dry within the first mile after Slum.  WTH.  I walked/staggered nearly every step from mile 41 to the Vickers aid, losing a few more places in the process.  If there had been an easy way to DNF here, I would've done it in a heartbeat.  I would've drank water from a rancid pond had there been one.  I would've even drank a PBR.

I pulled into Vickers at the same time as past champ David Phillips.  He was having a rough day as well.  We spent a good five minutes at Vickers, just trying to catch up on hydration, food, and life in general.  I bounced back a little bit in the remaining few miles, but the damage had been done.  I staggered to the finish in 14th place, 10:31 after I started.  My goal of not trashing myself had not been met - I felt pretty awful upon crossing the line.

In the ensuing week, I've bounced back fairly well.  I took Sunday and Wednesday off.  Got a pretty good (for me) effort in on Quandary Thursday, getting up in 65 and change.  Spent nearly 10 hours above treeline on Friday as I got in three thirteeners most of the Tenmile Traverse before bailing at Peak 4 due to weather.

Quandary's reclusive north face

Treeline in McCullough Gulch

Peak 10, looking south towards 9, 8, 7, etc

Howdy

Not your standard mountaineering route

Peak 8, looking east to Breck

I think this must've been the view south from Peak 5 or so.  Pacific should be the pointy one to the right and further off than the other pointy one, Peak 10. 

After 7 hours, my reward finally sat in front of me - the fun scramble from Peak 4 to Peak 1.  Shortly after this picture was taken, it got dark and thunder-y real quickly, and I bailed east just past the low point of the ridge

I-70

Heading out to the Arkansas River Valley tonight to do some last-minute scouting for the Nolan's course.  Looks like Brandon and I will have some company.  Promises to be a good time, that's for sure.  Happy 4th to everyone, and I'll see you all in a week.