Seeing the sign as I enter a new state always gives me a boost of energy, especially when the previous state was Kansas (motto: at least we're not Nebraska). Not that I'm in any position to judge other states, being from Illinois. Rich and I had been on the road since before dawn, and now as dusk was falling, we were disappointed we wouldn't be able to see the mountains until the next morning. Still, the long drive was good planning time (the extent of our pre-drive planning: "Want to go to Colorado?" "Sure!").

Approximate route.

We were prepared for just about anything and discussed a few options (Rich's dream is to climb the Casual Route. The only "multipitch" route I've climbed is in Illinois. That idea was nixed); we settled on a loop from Guanella Pass up to Mt. Spalding, down to Summit Lake, up The Snave to Evans, and over to Bierstadt via the Sawtooth ridge. Non-technical, but a chance to get in some cold and snow (we thought). We arrived outside Denver at the house of a friend and noticed that the evening air was far from the cold we'd left in Illinois that morning. "Unseasonably warm weather?" I wondered aloud. "You have a lot to learn about Colorado," I was told.

Acclimation and Recon

Friday the 16th dawned bright, clear, and...warm. From our friend's porch we had an impressive view of the Front Range (who in Denver doesn't, I was learning). Quickly we were able to pick out the snow-filled Sunrise Couloir ascending the ridge between Evans and Spalding. The surrounding peaks looked awfully devoid of snow compared to how we'd imagined. To get a better view of our intended routes (particularly the Snave), we drove west and then north of I-70. From our higher elevation and new position, we had a good look at what we assumed was the north face of Evans, and it looked awfully bare. A couple hours would be spent later in the night agonizing over whether to bring crampons (we eventually elected to bring them, just in case there were patches of ice and snow hidden from our view).

The recon (and a trip to REI) served as our feeble attempt at acclimation. Back down at 6000' (low for Colorado, more than four times higher than any point in Illinois), we discussed the t-shirt weather with our friends. They were quite adamant that the comfortable temperatures were the norm for the Denver area; it was almost always sunny; and the mountains absorb the vast majority of the precipitation, keeping the city dry but with a veritable winter wonderland an hour away. "It's kind of our secret, don't tell anyone." (Whoops.)

Guanella Pass to Spalding

After leaving very early from our friend's place (who wants to camp when you can sleep in a bed?) and with only a few shenanigans in finding the way, 5am Saturday the 17th found us in the parking lot at Guanella Pass TH ready to go. Just because Denver had been warm doesn't mean it will be nice at 11000 feet (all right, I already knew that). Actually, the temperature wasn't bad, or at least there was no wind. Rich had dressed according to the expected temperature and his expected exertion level; that is to say, he wasn't wearing much (Rich donned a bathing suit over his long-underwear bottoms). I had been a bit more conservative and paid for it early on as I shuffled layers on and off. Eventually I gave in to the method of wear less, move more.

Spooky.

We'd spent plenty of time looking over route descriptions online and in guidebooks, but as the willow thicket and darkness enveloped us, I realized we hadn't put much time into deciding where to leave the trail. I'd read horror stories of climbers disappearing into the willow bush maze (perhaps a bit exaggerated). As we had with so many aspects of the trip, we decided to wing it; about a mile out we left the trail and started trending roughly northeast. As dawn silhouetted the high ridges above us, we found we were close to our intended route; soon we were at the base of the class 2 gully leading up to the Evans-Spalding ridge (opposite side from the Sunrise Couloir).

Let me describe my fitness level a bit. I don't like aerobic exercise; I rely on pickup games of ultimate and the hike to the crag (yes, there are crags in Illinois) for cardio workouts. Once we started moving uphill at elevation, I realized just how little that had prepared me for the mountains (this is a realization I have every time I'm in the mountains; I'm a slow learner). I had warned Rich that the only "runs" I did started with "beer", but he had assured me that he was "off his cardio" and would be taking it easy also. As I, gasping, caught up to him waiting for me partway up Spalding, he was checking his pulse. "90 beats per minute," he reported, or at least that's what I think heard over the blood pounding in my ears. No matter; though it seemed to take forever at the time, we were soon at the summit of Spalding, eyeing the next goal.

Evans via the north face

A few quick photos and we were off the windy summit of Spalding. To the west we watched the cloud ceiling dropping, but mostly clear sky remained around us. Heading south from the peak, we considered Sunrise Couloir as a descent route; the snow was too solid to glissade, but we had brought crampons. I rejected this idea after deciding I didn't need to be reminded of my crappy technique at the top of a steep route, so down the talus we went.

After contouring around to the north face, our observations from the previous day were confirmed: no snow. I was actually a bit relieved; I'm more comfortable with scrambling than with crampons and axe. Rich took off, zig-zagging up obvious ledges toward the prominent notch east of the summit that we believed to be the exit gully for The Snave. I set a slightly slower pace.

Evans' north face

Summit Lake

Looking up the exit gully

Looking down the exit gully

The crux of the route is the final gully. Rich searched around and decided to move up the slabs right of the corner. I thought that looked too sketchy, so I chimneyed the corner for a few feet to good holds, and then took big steps to the top. I pulled up over the last obstacle and BAM! Parking lot. I knew it was there, but realizing that thousands of people just drive up every summer did sort of temper the experience (but that's a topic for a different forum; I'll write an article - Finding Parking Lots in the Mountains).

Sawtooth Ridge to Bierstadt

We tagged the summit of Evans, I wrote a quick note in the summit register, and off we went again. The weather was still holding despite the ominous clouds to the west. Before reaching the Sawtooth we would have an opportunity to bail down to the drainage; once near Bierstadt, the most direct route back to the car would be up and over. As we approached the ridge from the east, the first group of climbers we'd seen all day passed us heading the other direction. They were decked out in serious winter gear; were they breaking it in, or did they know something about the weather we didn't?

Sawtooth Ridge from the ledge

Climbers and dog

Having read previous trip reports, we found the ledge splitting the face of the Sawtooth quickly. It was (fortunately) wider and less rugged than I expected; in fact, a dog was handling it easily. Colorado dogs must be super-hardcore, I consoled myself. We spoke briefly with this new party; once off the ledge, they explained we could either drop low off the ridge for a straightforward class 2 ascent of Bierstadt, or stay high to make it more...interesting. Well, Rich lives for ridge traverses, the more exposed the better, so this wasn't even a topic of discussion; fortunately my tendencies lie the same way.

A sawtooth

More scrambling

Rich blazed ahead, moving quickly over the steep terrain. In a recurring theme you may have noticed, I lagged a bit behind. As the ridge began to ascend Bierstadt, I noticed the clouds were finally dropping faster than I was rising, and Rich had disappeared. I knew I had to speed up, but the soft snow surrounding the rocks made climbing a chore. The most efficient way was to dance from outcrop to outcrop and avoid the snow entirely, but I can't dance at sea-level, let alone 14000 feet. I resigned myself to moving in short bursts, searching for cairns to help guide me to the enshrouded summit. Eventually Rich appeared above me; coming down to tell me to hurry up? "How far to the summit?" I yelled. "I'm standing on it!" he called back.

Rich had wrapped himself in every piece of clothing he'd carried. He'd moved off the summit to avoid the howling wind while waiting for me (the cost of being faster than your climbing partner; I'd been comfortably sheltered from the wind on the hike up). Like a sign announcing the next state, finding the summit register gave me a boost of energy, but I didn't waste time signing it. Down the west slopes we bounded toward the trail and the car; I was actually looking forward to seeing the willow bushes again. At 3pm we were back at the car; 10 hours for ~10 miles roundtrip. Given my conditioning, I was happy with that.

Sawtooth Ridge from Bierstadt

Back through the willows

Sawtooth from Guanella Pass TH

Conclusion

Welcome to Illinois! greeted the sign two days later as I drove home through my very cold, very flat home state. I was sure I'd learned a lot of lessons during the trip: about my conditioning, about my clothing system, about the weather; but as I drove past miles of snow-covered farm fields, I could only remember one thing I'd learned: I need to get back to Colorado.

***

Thanks to Rich for letting me post some of his photos (mine were taken with a disposable camera, can you tell?), to thephotohiker for his article on tables in pages, and to you for reading this far.

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Milehighmadman74

Nice

Voted 10/10

Good TR and congrats on your summits.

Posted Jun 17, 2008 11:45 pm

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