Access: Pitkin Creek TH
Start: 0649, 10/6/2019
Partner: Corey Dobson
Climb Rating: 4
Duration: 1:01 to Pitkin Lake
2:05 to Peak U (W. Partner)
2:57 to Rockinghorse
3:45 to Peak P
4:35 to East Booth Pass
5:33 to Booth Falls TH
5:41 back to Pitkin Creek TH
Total Distance: 14.25 mi
Vertical: 7000'
Summit: West Partner (U) 13,041' ; Rockinghorse 12,680'; P 12,965'
Weather: 25-60F/bluebird
Nearest Town: Vail, CO
I'm a bit of a Gore Range n0oB. Backpacking takes too long; hiking takes too long; so it took me awhile to realize that going light, running the access trails, and power hiking the steep slopes to access the interesting stuff is totally reasonable. I only really started visiting Gore summits from the Vail side in the fall of last year (Ripsaw) and their mysterious draw has only grown in that time. I've been fortunate to befriend a group of Eagle runners that share the same running to scramble MO so this summer has been open season.
With warm high pressure extending into October, one last push deep and high into the Gore felt obligatory this autumn. Corey wanted to make a hard effort up to Pitkin Lake and West Partner while I'd been wanting to tackle Rockinghorse Ridge for awhile. So we decided to hammer the run up to Pitkin Lake then tap whatever's left in the tank for a push over to P from West Partner via Rockinghorse, concluded with a reverse traverse below Rockinghorse Ridge above the Upper Piney drainage back south to East Booth Pass and run back out to Booth Falls TH. Brandon Chalk gave great beta on this route. I thought the ridge could use a little more insight from the perspective of a rapid strike as opposed to climbing each and every spire in the course of a long day.
After originally planning on an 0530 start, we realized it's October. And Dark. And Cold. We pushed our start time back to 0630, even though... Still dark. Still cold (25F). I have no photos of the approach along Pitkin trail because I was mouth breathing through the entirety of it. Shockingly, a few flurries flew shortly before our arrival at Pitkin Lake before the skies completely cleared. The warm inviting alpenglow on the Partners hung only a couple hundred feet overhead. It taunted us while I warded off frostbite filling my bottles in a stream.
East Partner and the Partner Traverse from West Partner's south approach
Pitkin Lake with Outpost Peak and Holy Cross in the distance from the approach to West Partner
We ascended the grassy slopes south of West Partner mercifully meeting the sun halfway. After gaining the false summit visible from Pitkin Lake, the scrambling commenced. It was mostly a 3rd class blocky ridge run. Most of the exposure to the east was avoidable to the west typical of the range. I decided to have a go at a down sloping knife edge on the ridge proper. It abruptly ended in a cleft with a tricky down climb required to get off. Corey easily skirted it on a ledge west.
Navigating the knife edge leading to West Partner
Corey climbing West Partner's summit block
From West Partner, the descent onto Rockinghorse ridge started as an innocuous walk off. Before long, the terrain steepened drawing us back toward the ridge proper. Most difficulties could still be bypassed to the west.
Corey riding the ridge, Peak P in the distance
Standing on the ridge with West Partner behind
We bypassed all the towers besides Rockinghorse. From below the ridge proper, it was a direct climb from the west up to Rockinghorse. Corey gained it with some class 3-4 ledges on the west. I climbed it from the south with an awkward arm jam into an offwidth and some smearing. Felt like low 5th class without much exposure - 15 foot climb from a ledge.
A precarious tower we skirted to the left; Peak P in the background
The Rockinghorse
Atop Rockinghorse
The Spider and Fly looking down into Upper Piney from Rockinghorse
We had assumed we were past the difficulties of the ridge after summiting Rockinghorse until we walked upon the edge of a 40 foot cliff guarding a gully. I assumed I could skirt it with a short scramble down off ridge, but the cliff extended around to the west and south forming a peninsula around us. Barring backtracking and down climbing a couple hundred feet, it seemingly severed further access north. Corey discovered a single crack in the face of the cliff that we were able to down climb at 4th-5th class. The exposure was a bit unnerving. This was near the low point of the ridge.
Down climbing to the P saddle after Rockinghorse
Down climbing the cliff bands; I'm in the center of the photo
The start of the climb from the the saddle onto the P ridge had another shorter, though equally tricky, down climb into a notch before a 2nd class ascent to P's summit. The summit of P offered impressive views of Q, L, Ripsaw, the Partners and the Spider. It's the deepest I've felt in the Gore thus far- only about 3.5 hours from the trailhead.
Corey climbing the ridge; Peak P behind
Pink Quartz
Looking down Slate Creek from P's summit; Q right; L left
We backtracked along P's ridge and started descending west from the ridge before the the last notch we had previously down climbed. From there it was traversing on grass and talus blocks above Upper Pitkin Lake over to East Booth Pass. East Booth Pass had a beautiful view into the Booth drainage and the upper tarn. From here, it was an easy descent on grass to the tarn followed by a steep grassy gully down to the lower lake and main trail where we were able to quickly descend to the golden valley below in under 6 hours roundtrip car to car.
Booth's Upper Tarn looking down from East Booth Pass
Access: Pitkin Creek TH
Start: 0540, 9/15/2019
Partners: Jon Harrison, Corey Dobson, Dan MacArthur
Climb Rating: 4
Duration: 1:20 to Pitkin Lake
2:20 to Peak V (E. Partner)
3:20 to Peak W
4:53 back to TH
Total Distance: 12 mi
Vertical: 5200'
Summit: V 13,057'; W 12,775'
Weather: 40-65F/bluebird
Nearest Town: Vail, CO
After plan A, Peak A (Eagles Nest) fell through for the second time this summer, I was lucky enough to receive an invite for an audible up to the Pitkin Lake cirque for the VW traverse ("Punch Buggy" copyright Jon Harrison 2019) from an Eagle crew that is more familiar with the Gore approaches from the west. I drove over late the night before and crashed in the back of my truck at the Pitkin Creek trailhead. After being lulled to sleep by the semis screaming down I-70, I was jolted back to the land of the living by my alarm at 0450.
Lackadaisically cooking breakfast like a mindless zombie was a mistake. I assumed the guys would be a little late to the trailhead since it seems like most everyone's on mountain time in Summit. However, this was a group of dads. Doting fathers who wish to keep pursuing Gore summits without upsetting familial harmony are punctual and efficient. And we were a group of 4 of them.
My oatmeal and coffee went down like light beer, and we were running upward and onward toward Pitkin Lake by 0540. We all discussed the prospects of the Partner Traverse but were leery of it without rope so we settled on a plan to traverse to W from V with basically no knowledge of the route beyond topos. Rope be dammed.
New slide path along Pitkin Creek
Alpenglow on W. Partner above Pitkin Lake
IN THE SPIRIT OF THE GORE, I'm going to be intentionally vague and blah blah blah... I won't go into the details of E. Partner just because there's already plenty of beta out there. From the lake, use steep grass to gain the saddle, and then pick your way along the a system of ridges and gullies to gain the summit block. The south ridge to E. Partner was solid 3rd class without too much exposure beyond one slabby loose gully.
Accessing E. Partner's S. Ridge
Ascending E. Partner's S. Ridge
Climbing the crux of E. Partner
E. Partner summit shot
Dan contemplating life and "W"
Having made good time up to E. Partner and still feeling fresh, we agreed on making the plunge into the unknown with the traverse to W. Cursory searches for beta on it turned up nothing on summitpost and 14ers. We descended a couple hundred feet to a saddle with an unnamed subpeak. It was fairly guarded by airy slabs off the backside so we located a ledge to the left/NW around it. This ended at the base of a slabby wall. We thought we were going to have to descend a steep loose gully to bypass it but then found that the left arete of the slabs would go.
NW passage
Somewhere on the ridge
The arete
Climbing the arete led to the ridge proper. It was a blocky, solid traverse that finally terminated in a cliff. Down climbing to the right/south we located a grassy ledge that paralleled the ridge. The ledge led to a steep unpassable gouge in the ledge. Luckily, some 3rd class scrambling regained the ridge, leading to an airy but solid catwalk that ended the difficulties of the traverse.
Corey having regained the ridge
Running the catwalk
W's summit was a short hike on grass and large blocks from this point.
The Eagle squad
Summiting
We descended directly off the summit on grass down to the Usable Pass drainage and rejoined Pitkin Creek trail. Pleasant, remarkably seamless Gore outing.
Access: South Colony Lakes
Start: 0700, 7/9/2016
Climb Rating: 4+
Duration: 4:30 Crestone Peak from SCL
3:30 Peak to Needle Traverse
6:00 Needle Descent (wrong couloir with retrace)
Total Distance: ~6 mi R/T
Vertical: ~3500' (not including the 600' regained from the wrong descent)
Summit: Peak 14,294', Needle 14,197'
Weather: 50-70F/bluebird
Nearest Town: Westcliffe, CO
Dawn on Broken Hand Pass and Crestone Needle from South Colony
Jutting out from the rest of Colorado's mountain ranges like a severed appendage dangling is the Sangre de Cristo Range. Fitting, as "Sangre de Cristos" is Blood of Christ in Spanish. The narrow 75 mile long range rises 6000+ feet above the San Luis Valley on the west and the Arkansas River watershed to the east.
The Needle and Peak from Humboldt
Near the northern terminus of the range is the Crestone Group of peaks lying in the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness that include in addition to the Needle and Peak - Humboldt, Kit Carson and Challenger. In the last few years the South Colony trailhead on the eastern side of the peaks was moved a couple miles further down valley requiring a more serious commitment for access to two of the more imposing 14ers. Four of us - Splinter, Birddog, Stryker and myself - set out to behold these majestic peaks for ourselves. After a long hike into the South Colony Lakes campground with 50 lb packs, we were greeted by the most human habituated big horn sheep I've ever encountered. They used our latrine location 50 ft from camp as a salt lick.
Having made camp by 1600, we decided to knock out Humboldt as an acclimation hike. Despite making short work of the walk-up 14er we were passed near the summit by a swift solo hiker. As he passed I commented, "warmup for the Crestones?" and he just ignored me so I immediately prejudged him as a pompous jackwagon. Upon summiting I came to realize the bat out of hell was deaf. I was the asshole. After communicating via notepad on the iphone, we became acquainted with Kevin and agreed he'd join us for the traverse the following day.
THE CLIMB TO BROKEN HAND PASS
Setting off at 0630 the following morning as the sun was just splashing the top of the Needle, the five of us made a dark approach to Broken Hand Pass and encountered significant (though low angle and soft) snow crossings less than a mile into the climb. This made the steep approach to Broken hand more technical than expected. There was a tricky move required to climb off the snowfield onto the steep hanging scree garden beneath the pass. A slip here could have been consequential and we had yet to even start up either of the peaks.
CRESTONE PEAK VIA SOUTHEAST/RED GULLY
We decided to do the traverse Peak to Needle to enjoy the airy headwall scramble up the Needle and to further avoid any planned rappels. The descent from the pass down to Cottonwood Lake was quick and dirty on a loose trail. From Cottonwood Lake, the start of the Peak ascent is fairly obvious, winding around the base of the Needle along an established trail and up the lookers right flank of the Peak. However, the trail terminated at heavy spring runoff requiring some route finding around the wet rock and into the red (SE) gully. Despite a warm early summer and a SE exposure, the red gully still had a lot of snow.
Splinter, Birddog and Stryker climbing the Red Gully
Our party had 2 switchovers between crampons/ice axes and scrambling. It wasn't until we reached the top of the red gully that we could remove the crampons. I'd estimate there was at least 1500' vert of snow climbing up the red gully. We received reports that several parties were confident they could summit without crampons and ice axes, only to be turned around halfway up the gully. THIS CLIMB SHOULD NOT BE ATTEMPTED WITHOUT HELMETS, ICE AXES & CRAMPONS in early-mid July. Although the transitions to crampons added considerable time, we had little concern of potential rockfall. If you're comfortable, I'd recommend this climb with snow. The climb offered stunning views of Great Sand Dunes National Park in the distance.
After exiting the red gully, the climb up to the summit is a steep class 3 scramble over large blocks. Careful route finding got us there in about 15 minutes.
Crestone Peak Summit
THE TRAVERSE TO CRESTONE NEEDLE
Here the climb became interpretive and sporty. After summiting with the standard route and starting the descent the same way, the exit from the gully to start the traverse is around 350' down the red gully. It was relatively well marked with a giant cairn, but when focused on a steep snow climb it is easy to miss. Luckily, Kevin -great addition to our team- was more observant than the rest of us and spotted the cairn during the ascent. All of us were surprised by just HOW FAR we had descended prior to arriving at the established start point. If started too high there is a strong likelihood one will be turned around, cliffed out or otherwise screwed.
Descending the red gully to the start of the traverse
The start of the traverse landed us on a large flat slab. It's not obvious if the route trends up, down, or straight across. Careful observation spotted the occasional cairn guiding the route but they were sporadic and largely absent when we needed them most. I strongly suggest printing out the 14ers.com guide to the traverse - in large, vivid photos that you can leaf through unless you want to take an ipad. Repeatedly we found ourselves making blind route finding decisions.
The first half of the traverse is generally class 2+ terrain losing elevation through the course of a few descents and ascents. We had to keep a disciplined eye out for the cairns as it was tempting to traverse too high. Eventually, after we didn't think we could possibly be on the correct route despite the cairns because we had lost so much elevation, we found ourselves on a distinct rock rib regaining elevation. We traced the rib following cairns upwards about 100' of elevation until we reached a prominent red gully that looked more inviting than a hammock. Two of
our group gained about 200' in the gully only to realize
the correct route was up a steeper less demarcated chute that lied across and down from the more obvious looking red gully. A hard look at the route
directions from 14ers.com corrected the error.
Navigating one of the ribs
The faint chute leads to the top of the right flank of the red gully. We did not encounter any cairns leading up to or within this faint gully - though we built some of our own. From the top of the chute on the rib, there is another, steeper, gully flanked climbers right by some slabs. That gully led us upward to the top of another rib. A gentle climb down cleared the rib and we could first put eyes on the black gendarme.
The approach to the black gendarme
There are two standard routes from here to gain the headwall. One traverses straight out onto the exposed class 3+ slab lying below the headwall. The other follows a talus ramp below and around the base of the black gendarme. We opted for the latter route. A straightforward and unexposed walk on ramps leads to the right side of the black gendarme to a narrow gully entrance. The entrance is obstructed by a set of large boulders jammed between the walls of the gully. This is the only class 5 move but it's completely unexposed. In prior trip reports, a fixed rope was shown anchored at the move for assistance if desired. We saw no sign of the rope. With a stem between the gully walls, we all navigated the move with minimal effort - having some height helped.
Beyond the jam, the steep narrow gully led us to the ridge proper. Upper South Colony Lake could be seen a couple thousand feet below. The exposure was dizzying. A solid, short rock fin cutback from the top of the gully. The fin had a 25' drop on the climbers right side, and a 2500' drop on the climbers left side. We carefully straddled the fin and bridged the 10' gap to gain the grassy ledge above.
The Fin - upper South Colony Lake below
The "Z-ledges" brought somewhat difficult route finding. At the top of the first, we cutback left toward the ridge proper climbing to a dead end with nothing but a sheer drop below and a sheer wall above. Backtracking, we realized the correct route was around the gully we had climbed in error and up an adjacent gully. The Z-ledges were a series of steep gullies that abruptly terminated at an open balcony at the base of the headwall.
Kevin cresting the headwall
The headwall is imposing. The climbing difficulty decreased from climbers right to left, but the exposure also increased considerably. The leftmost option was on the spine of the ridge with 2500' of nothing below. We all opted for the easier climbing, more exposed option, realizing a fall anywhere on the headwall would be catastrophic.
Needle Headwall
I had packed a 30m, 8mm rope, a light rack and climbing shoes in case the climb was beyond our comfort level. We all felt the provisions unnecessary and meticulously tackled the airy wall unroped in our boots. It's a short 100' section of class 4 with mostly solid knobs. Double checking every hold was a must as I encountered loose rocks twice. The slope angle mellowed out in the last 20' just before we passed a bolted rappel station and topped out on the Needle.
NEEDLE DESCENT VIA STANDARD ROUTE (EAST/WEST GULLY)
We found ourselves alone on the summit until our descent. A climbing party of two arriving just as we were leaving had come up the east gully having missed the crossover to the west gully. They advised us to follow the west gully down. We had all read beta on the Needle's standard route; this feedback reinforcing what we already knew. Our successful completion of the traverse left us complacent. We foolishly assumed there were only two obvious gullies off the summit, the east one we observed the party coming up, and the west one next to the east gully.
With a bit of overconfidence, we started down the wide open gully before us. Despite not encountering a cairn or any sign of other climbers, we continued on. At one point about 600' down the gully, we noticed there was no clear crossover and the terrain in the gully had grown too steep to continue on without a rappel. We finally questioned the accuracy of our descent route. But above us, the climbing party we had encountered on the summit was following us in lockstep. They were completely confident we were in the "west gully".
Stryker and Splinter forged ahead along the perimeter of the gully searching for the crossover to the west gully. They landed atop an exposed 60' high rib with a difficult climb. A downclimb was impossible, and I was carrying the rope needed for a rappel. At this point, the three of us remaining in the gully behind and beneath the rib decided to turn around. It was a difficult decision to willfully split up, but none of us felt comfortable climbing up to the top of the rib without knowing where it would lead.
Observing our difficulties from above, the other party had already turned around as we slowly followed. The day was growing long and our energy stores were completely sapped. Regaining the 600' left us drained. By the time we had emerged from the gully to just below the summit the other party ahead of us had resummited and we all remained completely vexed on the correct route down. We encountered another party of two who had just summited from the technical Ellingwood Arete route. They were also unfamiliar with the descent so they heeded our cautionary tale. We all carefully studied a topo and the large, glossy photos of the route the technical climbers had printed out. It became apparent the gully we had mistakenly descended was one of several gullies that fanned out from the initial descent off the summit. The west gully closely traced the east gully on a parallel SSE fall line. We had descended a SSW facing gully that bottomed out above some cliffs and Cottonwood Lake.
Our three parties made our way down the standard route together with few difficulties. The crossover from the west to east gullies was well marked. The down climbing was steep but manageable. The only snow we encountered lie in the deep drainage channel between the right and left sides of the gully. Crossing over the thin unsupportive snow bridge required some tricky moves. From there, the gully mellowed out on dry solid rock. Relieved that we had made it off the summit safely, we shifted focus. Descending in silence - dehydrated, hungry and awash with guilt at having abandoned our friends - we finally reached the bottom of the gully and the trail leading to Broken Hand Pass. Here we caught a glimpse of a union jack bandanna slung about a rock. We realized beyond a doubt that Stryker -a Brit- had left that bandanna as a sign they'd made it out.
Stryker's Union Jack Bandanna
The sun was setting behind the surrounding peaks and we still needed to navigate down Broken Hand pass. Fortunately we made it down the difficult section in daylight. We plodded slowly down the scree field beneath Broken Hand Pass in the dark finally arriving back at camp around 2100 greeted by a raging fire, hot food, and the rest of our party.
UPDATE
The day after we did the traverse, a climber lost his life in a fall descending the wrong gully after summiting the Needle. A tradition of erroneous route finding on the descent of the Needle has resulted in many serious accidents over the years. Prior to making the climb ourselves and subsequently descending the wrong gully, we never imagined we could fall victim to the same mistake.
While I support preservation of the mountain's natural environment and personal responsibility, I also am not opposed to non-intrusive intervention to prevent further loss of life in this manner. Risk is accepted with mountaineering and accidents occur with some regularity in the endeavor. I do not wish for roads, or ::gulp:: trams, to ever tarnish the environment, but I wonder if an inconspicuous sign steering climbers away from making the same error so many others have made would be wrong. It is noted that an existing sign shown in a photo above warns climbers on the summit of the Needle to avoid one particular descent route. Would another hurt? It could help. The debate will continue for eternity.
