We left Silverton one sunny morning and quickly learned that getting to Beartown was not going to be simple. First of all, there are 2 highway 110’s at the east end of town. The wrong one heads north. The correct one, also known as County Road 2 or Blair St or Animas Forks Road, requires a right turn off the main drag (Greene St.) and heads ENE. About 5 miles out of town we turned right on to CO 4 as directed. After about half a mile the road splits. It turned out it didn’t matter which way we went, as the roads merged back together again about 1.1 miles after the split. The upper road passes the Old Hundred Gold Mine which offers tours. Soon after the roads converge, there is another split where you must go left and start the uphill climb to Stony Pass. At the time we were there, the road to Stony Pass (County Road 3) was not labeled at all. We found our way up over the pass and down the other side to FS 506. FS 506 starts with a ford of the Rio Grande River, and the road immediately becomes much more rutted than the Stony Pass road. On FS 506 it is 6 miles to the Beartown Trailhead. We had a high clearance vehicle with a long wheelbase and bottomed out only once in the last half mile. At this point we saw several 4WDs parked alongside the road, which would add another half mile and a little elevation gain to the hike. There is room for about 2 vehicles at the trailhead and we got one of them. We divvied up the gear and hoisted the packs.
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In March of 2012, Luke and Abe (whom I met via 14ers.com) and myself ventured into the lesser traveled area of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Equally sharing a passion for winter, we thought about a trip that involved some peaks located in the Northern Culebra Range. The goal was to hike to De Anza Peak and call it good. We knew Culebra Peak was on private property of course, but what we didn’t know is where that property ended. NONE of the maps we poured over detailed where private property started nor ended.

We've since come to learn, pretty much EVERYTHING in the Culebra Range is private going back to the days of lore. The Culebra sub-range of the Sangre de Cristo’s is astoundingly beautiful. The terrain is untrammeled, unmarked and virgin thanks to the land owners in the area (a bittersweet facet). Even property fences and signage as we found out doesn't exist. Unfortunately, as we trekked southwards along the roof of the range that afternoon, a strong and potent blizzard blew in from the south unpredicted. Friends of mine who were on San Luis Peak the same afternoon, later reported the same conditions. The storm took them by surprise as well.

As the three of us scrambled up the first destination, Maxwell Peak (13,335ft), Luke wasn’t feeling well. He had been sick the previous couple days with what he believed was flu. This is where Luke wisely decided to bow out. We brought a small bivy tent and light sleeping bags ‘just in case’ things went to hell. Luke and I decided to swap sleeping bags on the leeward side of an elevated ‘broken sidewalk of granite’ since he was descending. He had a warmer Western Mountaineering 20° bag and I had a Mountain Hardwear Phantom 32°. Abe and I bid adieu to Luke, watched him descend for a few minutes, then we started to traverse under Maxwell Peak’s summit on its’ southeastern flanks. Before we separated, we had a loose understanding with Luke that Abe and I might bivy for the night and continue further south in the morning along the ridge or weather pending, return later that day. A month prior on a different trip with intentions of summiting Cuatro and Trinchera Peaks to the north, Abe, Matt and I, not really planning on it but impromptu, set up a bivy at treeline on Maxwell just past midnight; Abe and Matt slept in bivy sacks on the leeward side of some scrub evergreen and I dug out a snow drift, partially sealing it for shelter.
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Ever since our last attempt which ended up as the foolhardy reputation-destroying disaster, Josh and I knew we had messed up on a good deal. A lot of things weren't right that day (probably mentally as well). But the route felt right. It's rare for a person to find a completely new route these days in the Washington Cascades. Not that nobody has ever been there but that nobody has found it worth mentioning. And with the young exuberance that instills romantic notions we were sure we found one on Mt. Stickney. Josh even came up with a cool name for it: Sky Rocket Coulior! Mt. Stickney already has a standard route up Olney Creek road but with budget cuts on the large, the approach is reprehensible to any thrifty up and coming peak-bagger. Our new route is shorter, direct and more alpine. A lot of things about it still seem good; just requiring the right conditions.

With the last misadventure in mind, first thing was first: inventory. No more mind-blowing catastrophes! We were going to have everything we needed attached to our packs way ahead of time. Ice tools, ice axes, crampons, water, clothes, food -- all scrutiny was applied as soon as we saw a good window for weather. Then some adjustments were made and we were left with the tantalizing realization that we were about to forge a new route up a prominent westward facing mountain. I couldn't tell what I thought was cooler; that it was a first ascent for the route (documented), that the gully resembles a coulior snow climb of a constant slope that rockets 3,000' from the valley below, that it was in a perfect proximity to Index, Baring, Monte Cristo peaks, and most of the western cascades, or the fact that it starts from my very first hiking experience in memory by beginning from Wallace Falls State Park!
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