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| Return to the Great One   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Location: Colorado, United States, North America Lat/Lon: 39.15030°N / 107.0825°W Date Climbed/Hiked: Jul 20, 2003 | Page By: Aaron Johnson Created/Edited: Jul 23, 2003 / Mar 12, 2006 Object ID: 168991 Hits: 1065 Loading... Page Score: 0% - 0 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
I had opened my big mouth and would have to live up to what I said. My girlfriend Ellen wants to climb all of Colorado’s fourteeners. I’ve never had a consuming desire to do so, let alone do them again, but I told her I would climb the ones I liked again, providing the route taken was a new route or a route I had not done before. I would repeat some routes because I liked them, but these conditions would rule out many of the fourteeners. Ellen joined the CMC and took their Wilderness Survival class, enabling her to climb the mountains I wasn’t interested in doing again without dragging me along kicking and screaming in protest.
But some mountains I couldn’t imagine Ellen doing without me, and we got to them straight away, including Sneffels, Wetterhorn and Holy Cross. But perhaps the most important, crucial and challenging fourteener I wanted to take Ellen on was Capitol. And of course, this would be up the only reasonably non-technical route available, the Knife Edge.
After two aborted attempts, I climbed the mountain in 1994 with long time partners Vernon Garner and Mark Anderson. It took us 11 hours from just below Capitol Lake to climb the tortuous 4-plus miles round trip. We had rope and rack for safety but never needed it, so we carried considerable unused weight. I remember being so exhausted upon our return to camp that I was just leveled. I sat in camp, barely able to move. From hours of gripping the mountain for dear life, even the backs of my hands were sore. We had prepared over a period of three years for the climb and were successful, yet I came away with a great accomplishment that somehow felt incomplete in later years. I didn’t know why, but I could only hope to find out by returning with Ellen nine years later.
My return to Capitol was an experiment. I really didn’t care if I summited again. I wanted to see if my body could take the pounding, to see just how good of shape I was in. I kept my odds conservative and figured my chances at success, all things considered, were 50-50. This way, my expectations were realistic. If we succeeded, we’d have reason to celebrate. If not, we’d still have reason to celebrate for trying and it would not be a big deal to have not summited.
We established an understanding between us that if the mountain or weather so much as burped, we’d call the climb off. Ellen deferred to my judgment here, not knowing the mountain and its potentially perilous conditions. I agreed to her proposed date of July 19-20, even though I would have preferred the fall to reduce the chance of thunderstorms. She countered that a sudden dusting or glazing of snow or ice in the fall would reduce our chances at success, whereas the summer storms may not be enough to keep the rock wet and therefore hazardous for long. We agreed on the July weekend and planned our season to prepare ourselves for this challenge.
We had unwittingly created a fantastic schedule when we fused our proposed outings with the IU Trekkers itinerary, a group we hike routinely with. The steadily increasing difficulty in the schedule aptly prepared us for Capitol, particularly with climbs of Colorado’s three highest mountains and El Diente, considered by many to be in the top 5 most difficult fourteeners. Two weeks later, we were off to climb Capitol.
I didn’t have much to say about the mountain or what I was anticipating. I figured we’d be lucky to reach K2 in marginal weather. Strong high pressure was steady and not going anywhere, hanging over Colorado like a great shield. Storms would be isolated and weren’t amounting to much. As we arrived at the trailhead, I admitted our chances were looking pretty good. With guarded optimism, we donned our gear and started up the Capitol Ditch trail.
Having done the Capitol Creek route three times prior, I was glad to try the other route, which turned out to be more sensible, beautiful and efficient. Views of the mountain all along the way made the choice worth while, and the even ascent helped cover the 6 miles to Capitol Lake quickly. A tricky crossing over the creek to the Capitol Creek trail was the crux of the backpack in. We hadn’t backpacked in years, so the extra weight was grinding us down. We slogged it out to the lake, all 6 miles, and were glad we did.
We acquired designated camp site Number 5. Nine years ago, you could camp anywhere in the area. Apparently, as with all popular Colorado destinations, usage has gone way up. I was pleased to see the pristine nature of the basin was still intact and folks had gone to great pains to keep it so. Kudos to all the campers, forest service employees and volunteers that have cared for this place over the years. It is no doubt one of the most startlingly beautiful places on the planet.
We were determined to give the climb our best shot. The alarm went off at 4AM. We arose at 4:30, fixed a good breakfast, packed and were headed up the trail at 5:30AM, the first ones on the trail. We ascended to the K2-Daly saddle in 40 minutes. Not bad for an old climber at 47!
We picked up the pace slightly as we entered the basin above Moon Lake. Ellen did a nice job breaking trail across the snowfields and our progress was steady. We arrived at K2 at just under 3 hours, aware of a climber now trailing behind us. I told Ellen that we would now move efficiently and with purpose, and to stay focused. We’d only had one major break so far, and we wouldn’t have another until the summit. We both felt good and up to the task, and proceeded with due diligence.
The climb of K2 went smoothly, as did the descent down very steep but solid rock. We then immediately proceeded onto the northeast ridge toward the Knife Edge. I crossed first and Ellen followed. Upon completing it, she admitted it wasn’t as bad as she had imagined. My input was probably no help, as I was relating to her what the experience had been to me previously. This time, crossing the Knife Edge was a pleasure. I was able to enjoy it without the burden or fear or uncertainty.
The rest of the ridge went quickly. The climber behind caught up to us at this point and we invited him to join in the fun and allowed him to lead the way. We opted for solid rock when he went for some loose trailed areas, but we pretty much stuck together as we made our way across the east face of the mountain.
What I like to refer to as the corner climb had been a highlight of the previous trip. When we arrived, I simply told Ellen, ”this is where you bear your ass to the great nothingness and climb.” And that is exactly what Ellen did without reservation. Fifty feet above on this exposed narrow ridge walk, we could hang a left as we had done 9 years ago and negotiate our way through complex terrain littered with loose rock, or we could favor the ridge top to the summit.
We followed our new friend’s cue and stayed on the ridge, which was a good choice. The climbing was wonderful and solid, albeit the exposure for some would be considered enormous. The rock was sound and there was nothing loose to clutter our judgment. We moved efficiently over this piece and we reached the top, clocking in at just over four hours.
During lunch, we introduced ourselves to our newfound friend. We learned his name was Chris, from Boulder. Following a midlife crisis, Chris decided to climb all of the fourteeners again. Like me, this was his second visit to Capitol. He recalled being terrified the first time. My situation was similar, although rather than terrified, it was extreme focus, so much that I did not enjoy the mountain as much as I did now. It was this inability and a lack of a broadened awareness of the mountain itself that I had missed out on before, and why I had felt a bit unsatisfied with my first climb. Today’s climb was a fulfilling experience, and to top it off, my very capable sweetheart had climbed this great mountain with me, and had done exceedingly well.
For Ellen, it was a huge, satisfying rush to be on top of Capitol Peak, one of Colorado’s hardest fourteeners, and it was Number 27 for her. Impressive, considering most folks save Capitol for the end of their fourteener conquests. That we climbed the mountain together was a great achievement, and no doubt a high point in our relationship we’ll never forget and talk about for years to come.
Our stay was suitably brief and we started down the pedestrian route to the corner climb. Chris had to get back to Boulder that day and wasted no time. We never saw him again after he blazed off of the summit. We went at a slightly slower, well deserved pace with no threat of weather to hurry us on.
During our traverse of the ledges on the east face, we heard a clamor of rockfall. A landslide then thundered off of the northeast ridge. A plume of brown dust billowed high above the incident area, where several climbers stood frozen on the ridge. I was cursing them as beginners. Ellen preferred the term “amateurs,” but not being clear on what happened, we couldn’t be too judgmental. My biggest fear was that someone had fallen with the rocks all the way down to Pierre Lakes Basin, a wasteland of rock over one thousand feet below.
We later encountered these climbers on the descent. We asked no questions and no information was offered. We exchanged greetings and moved on. I figured these climbers were embarrassed over the calamity and wisely decided not to discuss the incident.
I shot across the Knife Edge and then shot a series of action shots with Ellen’s camera of her doing the famous crossing. We then scurried over to K2 and found a great route back over the peak on very steep, pleasantly solid but exposed rock. This was the unexpected highlight of the trip. The return climb over K2 was an absolute joy. All those years of fine tuning route finding skills paid off handsomely. After the usual careful descent of K2’s rotten south face, we blazed down the rocky wastes to a spot where we took a major break and filtered some water.
The descent to camp was leisurely and uneventful, and we were back at the tent at 2:30PM. We cleaned up, made dinner and enjoyed the evening taking pictures of the millions of flowers in the basin. What a spectacle to behold! This was definitely the big bonus of the trip. The wildflower display was sensational and was easily comparable to displays I had seen in the past in American, Ice Lake and Yankee Boy Basins. A nice rain storm escorted us to the tent around 7:30, but the day was a weather-perfect gem, with people still coming off the mountain at dinner time, a rare and unheard of thing for Capitol.
The next morning, we arose late and enjoyed breakfast. We folded camp and were on our way down the trail at 9:15. We arrived at the car, via the Capitol Ditch trail, at 12:15, in good shape and spirits, despite aches and pains acquired more from backpacking than from the climb.
The findings of my experiment were: I was probably not drinking or eating enough on my first climb of Capitol, which resulted in an exhausted condition that I did not experience on this recent trip. Apprehension and caution had overwhelmed me nine years ago, and rightfully so. Acquired experience made a huge difference and allowed me to really enjoy the mountain. We had extra weight on the initial trip, which no doubt resulted in our slower time of 11 hours. The 9 hour climb that Ellen and I executed was done well and as planned. There is the likely possibility that despite my age, I was in better shape this time around, the result of more climbing and physical activity.
To sum up: Take the Capitol Ditch trail. It’s the better choice.
Take your time preparing for Capitol, working on your physical fitness, psychological issues (exposure), climbing experience and techniques, managing food and water intake and set up a good plan that is best suited to your abilities. Doing this will ensure you enjoy the mountain for all that it is the first time around.
Even with bad weather or failing to summit, years of preparation will almost guarantee a positive experience when your time comes to climb “The Great One.” Images
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