| A Locked Gate & A Good Decision Trip Report |
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| A Locked Gate & A Good Decision   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Location: Colorado, United States, North America Lat/Lon: 37.86030°N / 107.9842°W Date Climbed/Hiked: Jun 6, 2003 | Page By: Aaron Johnson Created/Edited: Jul 9, 2003 / Mar 12, 2006 Object ID: 168967 Hits: 1348 Loading... Page Score: 0% - 0 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
This report can be read seperately, or it can be read as Part Two of a trip report that begins here.
Driving from the Kilpacker Trailhead after climbing El Diente, we arrived at the trailhead about two hours later and I was very dissappointed. The gate had been relocated further DOWN the road, adding great distance to our climbs. Historically left open, the gate was locked. However, some obviously special folks had access, and three different vehicles came down through the gate during the course of the evening, including one late at night. I'm assuming they did all three mountains and the traverse, because I overheard them say something like "wasn't that a great day?"
Well, meanwhile, I'm doing battle with thousands of mosquitoes and just seething. I couldn't even poop in peace. I ended up with three mosquito bites on my ass just from pooping as fast as I could manage. This was a vivid reminder of one of a number of things that I don't like about camping. I guess I'm just getting older and no longer wish to tolerate inconvenience and discomfort camping can deliver. I was tired of the bugs, tired of bug repellent, wearing clothes in perfectly warm weather to keep the bugs from eating me alive. I was dirty and sticky and smelly. I finally tired of doing battle with the bugs and got in the vehicle and proceeded to roast, as it was uncommonly warm in the San Juans (83 degrees at 9:00pm). But at least the bugs were kept away, and I was entertained by killing the ones that managed to find their way inside the vehicle. Ellen joined in the fun and killed her share as well, but God bless her, she knew I was not happy with the whole situation.
Then there was the gate thing. When we visited the area back in the 80s, access was not a problem. You could drive all the way up into the basin, to the stone shelter (which is now almost in total ruin). The gate has been historically left open, but I'm guessing the land or mining claim has since changed hands. The gate was relocated and is now locked.
I've been informed that thoughtless and careless ATV and 4WD people had done an excellent job of tearing up and trashing the land owner's property over the years. Most folks that visit the area are from out of town, mostly from other parts of Colorado. For whatever reason, they feel it's their right to dismantle and vandalize private property or historical relics. The owners feel badly that skiers and climbers must suffer at the hands of these disrespectful assholes with a longer round trip distance, but also feel they have no choice in the matter since they must protect their land and property. Apparently the relocation and locking of the gate has reduced the frequency of problems.
Such are the perils of inholdings within or near National Forest boundaries. In my opinion, if the road is in fact not a public road, then it should be closed permanently. If it is a public road, it should be open permanently. In this particular case, it appears the access should be closed in order that the owner's rights are protected from vandals and hooligans.
The land owers have every right to do as they please with their land, and they have every right to protect it. So due to the selfish acts of a few, climbers wishing to climb their publicly owned mountain must walk through his land. For older folks who have not yet climbed the said publicly owned mountain (Mt. Wilson in this case), this is an unfair and harsh reality, but it's also just the way it is. I have to accept the fact and either climb Mt. Wilson under these conditions or blow it off.
Well, it's likely I'll blow it off. The mountain just isn't that important to me to bust my ass for it. For mountains like Snowmass or Capitol, it's understandable, given their locations deep in the wilderness. However, with the only close access to Mt. Wilson now being controlled by a land owner, all approaches to the mountain are very long. For a climber like me, who's been around plenty, you get to the point where you throw up your arms and say,"I just don't give a shit!"-because you've dealt with so many similar situations before that you just can't swallow another one.
Thanks to the inconsiderate and selfish "people" who chose to violate a land owner's rights, these Telluride folks can have their mountains to themselves, and after a while, when less people come to climb their precious piles of rocks (Navajo and Silver Pick Basins, in my opinion, aren't pretty places by any means), their economy will suffer a pinch. My guess is they'll never figure it out because there's so many other things that happen there: The Jazz, Bluegrass and God knows how many other music festivals, skiing in the winter, the list goes on and on and the money just continues to pour in. Well, they certainly do not need my two cents.
With the dramaticaly increased mileage, I told Ellen that I did not have high hopes that I would have the stamina to climb both mountains. She frankly felt the same way, despite the fact we both felt pretty good after El Diente. So, we awoke at daybreak and set out up the road. Hiking up the Silver Pick road was an exercise in madness for me. Having driven the road before, under the impression that while the land around was private, the road was public, I was pretty peeved at the whole affair.
As usual with most mornings, I took a big, healthy shit. I felt like shitting right in the middle of the road to illustrate my feelings. But decency prevailed and I chose a discrete spot. After all, it's not the land owner's fault things are as bad as they are.
Just beyond, the road was buried in a snow drift, so we climbed some tundra on a direct route into the basin, rejoining the road near the Stone Ruin. A sign was posted there: "No Camping except for emergencies." The place is a wreck anyway from the ravages of the San Juan winters and the likely exploitation of selfish folks. Emergency or not, who in their right mind would want to camp at such an ugly, inhostpitable location? Thirty minutes more walking and you're out of this private wasteland anyway.
From there, the snow increased dramatically and we were soon crossing a vast field of snow, angling toward the debris field of the slab avalanche that had run in June. I noticed Ellen was having difficulty pushing on, and I was slowing down as well the higher were climbed.
We now had our ice axes out and were climbing steep snow and intermittent talus. We reached the avalanche area and crossed it carefully. Where rocks had come to rest on the snow, their warmth had melted them into craters. Across the expanse of this hard, jumbled snow slope were these craters with a singular rock in their bottoms. These holes were surrounded in ice and were tricky to get around without slipping into one. Above, where the great slab broke away from the mountain was still apparent, as the snow on the sides was still in place. Where the avalanche ran was now a bare talus slope. Toward the bottom of the fracture zone, the depth was greater than ten feet. Below us in the basin, a jumble of rocks that had been peeled from the mountain lay scattered on the snow below.
I noticed that we were both struggling and were stopping for longer breaks. I admitted to Ellen that I was seizing up. We discussed our mutual and rapidly deteriorating condition, and decided that while we did great on El Diente, it took more out of us than we realized. The climbing was sustained and relentless, and we moved up and down the mountain at a brisk pace. The wear and tear of that energetic toil was catching up to us. At least it didn't happen to us on top of Wilson Peak's ridge. Until then, Mt. Wilson was not a possibility due to our shape, increased distance and questionable weather. But then, we decided Wilson Peak was out as well. We were trying to do too much in too little time without giving our bodies a chance to rebound. I don't know about Ellen, but for me, it was an obvious and easy choice to turn around. If Ellen really sticks to her guns about climbing all of he 14ers, she'll be back, with or without me, to climb the Wilsons.
It was a wise choice to turn around. Hiking back down that stupid road, my ankle seized and I had to stop and work the kink out. My hips and knees were increasingly sore and the bottoms of my feet, after four miles of hiking, felt like I'd been walking for 13 miles. Enough was enough! I was staggering upon our return to the vehicle. To avoid the mosquitoes, we once again threw our stuff in and just left as fast as we could manage. Ellen drove us to Ridgway, where we checked in to the hotel and soaked in the jaquzzi-another good choice. That was followed by a nap.
As previously arranged, I called SP member Nader and his wife Mary around 3:00pm, as they were also vacationing in the area over in Silverton. We met that evening for dinner at the Bon Ton in Ouray and had a wonderful time. The next day, we took our time driving home, going over Owl Creek Pass. We drove up the Cimarron Road, which Ellen was quite impressed with, before heading for home down the valley to highway 50. Images
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San Juan Range
