| Peak(s): |
El Diente Peak - 14,175 feet Mt. Wilson - 14,256 feet Wilson Peak - 14,021 feet |
| Date Posted: | 08/23/2016 |
| Date Climbed: | 08/21/2016 |
| Author: | DanGran |
| Peak(s): |
El Diente Peak - 14,175 feet Mt. Wilson - 14,256 feet Wilson Peak - 14,021 feet |
| Date Posted: | 08/23/2016 |
| Date Climbed: | 08/21/2016 |
| Author: | DanGran |
| Wrapping up the San Juans with a Wilson Group Extravaganza |
|---|
|
The time was 0200 and one of Mozart's piano concertos was blaring from my car radio. Although I'd just flicked the cruise control on, my foot hovered over the brake and my eyes scanned the road intently for hopping deer, agile and destructive creatures of the night. I passed a few other cars going in the opposite direction, likely vehicles of weary-eyed drivers heading back to their safe homes and warm beds. "Good morning!" I thought as I glided past them up the road. Suddenly a car appeared behind me, gaining distance quickly and almost overtaking me when... lights began flashing out of its roof. My stomach sank at the dawning of a horrid realization: even at 0215, going approximately eight miles per hour over the speed limit was grounds for potential and lawful consequences. Whoops. I pulled over concerned, not so much by the prospect of a ticket, but by the fact that this incident might delay my arrival at the Kilpacker Trailhead by up to fifteen minutes or so! Thankfully for me the officer was merciful, and after asking me where I was going and observing my sublime choice of music (I mean, how reckless is someone who willingly listens to Mozart?), he gave me "his card," wished me luck on my expedition, then hopped in his cruiser and turned around, disappearing into the night. The rest of the two-hour drive went by uneventfully at about two miles per hour over the speed limit (I know, I'm a criminal). I didn't see a single deer. The final five miles up to Kilpacker Trailhead were on a dirt road, but my Subaru Legacy handled them perfectly fine. At 0345, I hopped out of my car, stretched, pulled on my backpack, and turned on my headlamp, preparing for my least favorite part of any wilderness adventure... hiking at night, alone. The first section of the trail wound through some open meadows, surely beautiful in the daytime, but now (in my mind) providing the perfect cover for a mountain lion stalking her oblivious prey. Soon, the trail left the meadows behind and entered a forest. Rather than being relieved, I found new reason to be fearful. Now I was sure the very same mountain lion was jumping from tree to tree above me, preparing to leap down at any moment and claim her reward. Good thing I decided to wear my helmet! I talked to myself, trying to make noise and also take my mind off of my fears. I have no idea if it helped, but I'm alive right now writing this post, so that that's something! After what seemed like an eternity of walking through the dark and creature-infested forest, I reached a turn-off in the path that promised to lead me to the peak of El Diente. Hallelujah! Now I started to actually gain a decent amount of elevation. Also, I haven't mentioned this yet, mostly because of how prevalent paranoia was in my mind, but for the first four miles or so, the Kilpacker Trail is really nice and well-maintained. A few minutes after the turn-off, I ran head-on into Kilpacker Creek and a lone tent set up on its banks. I consulted my handy 14ers.com route description and concluded that this was the place to cross the stream. Luckily, there was a fallen tree spanning the entire width of the creek. I scurried across and continued on into another open meadow (where more mountain lions were probably lurking). This time, however, I saw the jagged outlines of mountains rising from the field before me, dark against the starry skies above. Before long, the meadow trail gave way to a two-mile-long field of talus. I felt less exposed to mountain lions at this point. And, every once in a while I'd see some lights flash up the slopes in front of me or just behind me in the field of loose rock (had someone caught up to me?). I arrived at where I thought the El Diente turn-off was, but couldn't be sure, even after consulting my route description. So, I sat for a little while as the sky lightened, drinking water and ingesting a granola bar. Finally I saw that this slope to my left was indeed where I ought to go and headed up higher as the first beams of sunrise showed me where I'd arrived after my journey throughout the darkness of night.     I made it past the red rock rib, but then couldn't decide if the hill of gray rocks directly in front of me was the "gray gully" I was meant to go up or not. So, I traversed farther left on the slope, looking for anything that might make a better "gray gully." There was nothing. Soon a man in orange arrived to the right of where I was on the hill. I asked, "Hey! Do you know if that's the gray gully?" He said he thought so and started up. Good enough for me! I followed him for a ways, then came across a group of three coming down from the summit of El Diente. I talked with them briefly, moving aside on the hill to let them pass. Then I continued on my way, the orange man now gone from my field of view. Climbing the south slopes of El Diente is relatively straightforward, with some easier class 3 moves and not too much exposure. For those wondering, I'd say it's a slightly easier climb than most of the other class 3 routes in the San Juans. Anyway, I kept on keeping on, noting the diverse colors of the various ridges and mountains around. Some hills were red or a lighter orange, others various shades of gray. The sun created shadows that gave the terrain even more character. Eventually I rounded a corner on a ridge. The man in orange appeared on a rock above me, saying, "It looks like you found a better path. I went up a bit too high." We discussed the remaining path for a few seconds, agreeing that we should probably stay low on what looked like a path snaking along the ridge. I led now and the man in orange came close behind. After a few minutes, we were on the top of El Diente!    The orange man and I talked for a little while. I learned he was from Golden and had been camping in the solitary tent by Kilpacker Creek. After a while, he asked if I was planning on doing the traverse. I said, "Yeah. You?" "Yeah... would you like to team up?" And with that, we decided to attempt the traverse to Mt. Wilson together. We started the traverse at about 0800. It was a ton of fun and my favorite part of the day!  The grendarmes towered magnificently above us, especially spiry-looking in the morning sun.  I've seen mixed thoughts concerning the difficulty and nature of this traverse. My own opinion: the rock is, overall, solid, and although there are places with a bit of exposure, there's never anything beyond a class 3+ move the entire mile. Ridge-walking, especially along "the narrows," feels really good. You're on top of the world! Although there's a decent amount of exposure here too, I felt pretty secure. In fact, I've felt less secure on some class 3 routes in the past: Eolus and climbing out of the gullies on Sneffels's ridge route, just to name a couple of instances. The route was straightforward over the entirety of the traverse as well, cairns easy to follow. But I know others felt this route was pretty dangerous, so... to each their own. I'd definitely recommend the experience to anyone fairly confident in their climbing abilities and/or looking to try a traverse for a first time. It is nice to go with someone else, but it would have been fine to do solo as well.  Golden Guy and I caught up to the group of three that I'd talked to earlier that morning; apparently they were doing the traverse too! We waited for a bit on a class 3+ climbing section right before "the narrows," then caught up again on the ridge section in the picture directly above. They were a cool group, and Golden Guy and I didn't mind waiting for just a little while on the ridge; the views were astounding and it gave us time to eat a bit more and put on some sunscreen!  Soon we reached the notch below the final pitch up to the summit of Mt. Wilson. I noted the route down the northern slopes, which looked pretty straightforward from this vantage point. We headed up. I found the crux of the route, the gigantic summit block with exposure on either side, to be only a slight obstacle. It was easy to climb to the left; lots of holds on solid rock. Then we were there, on the tiny summit of Mt. Wilson! Maybe part of the reason the peak seemed so small is that there were around ten of us up there at one time. Nonetheless, we all took in the incredible views, talked, and exchanged summit pictures. One man (a member of the group of three) had climbed two-hundred-and-something 14ers and was working on a new challenge: climb every 14er once in every season. Intense. There was also a woman named Sue (I think?) who had climbed one-hundred-and-something 14ers. It was great listening to the stories and plans of every one of the people with whom I shared the summit. Incredible people all just having fun doing incredible things and acting as if being incredible's just normal.      After remaining on the summit of Mt. Wilson for around 30 minutes, I said farewell to Golden Guy and the group of three, all heading down the southern slopes of Mt. Wilson. I took a final couple of moments on the peak before climbing down to the notch and route down the northern slopes. Thus began hell. You know, sometimes I dislike the rating system of the difficulty of 14ers. Give me some solid class 3-4 rock to climb and I'm a happy camper. Give me a couple miles of loose scree... well... let's just say... ARRRRGHHHHHHH!!! The northern slopes of Wilson were "easy" as far as "if you fall, you won't die," but were agonizingly painful in every other sense. I lost sight of the cairns at some point and just forged my own trail down the scree; it's all the same, no matter where you are. About halfway down, I saw a man and woman on the other side of a snow-filled gully, heading up. They said they had followed cairns for a while, but thought they had come up a bit too far, as the gully had gotten deeper and deeper. I wished them luck and then continued down, eventually crossing the gully and running into some cairns again. Yay! By the time I reached the actual trail, my feet were very sore, so I sat for a few minutes, gazing back at the beast I'd just descended. Clouds had begun to roll in, and the gray of El Diente and Mt. Wilson looked incredibly imposing and also spectacular, more so than I can possibly describe with words or a picture.  Knowing the wild fluctuation of Colorado weather, I hurried along the Navajo Lake Trail toward my final destination of the day, Wilson Peak. I glanced up and saw a good number of people on the ridge, high above me. The trail continued into an orange-colored hill with many remnants of an abandoned mine.  Near an old mine, the trail snaked up the contour of the hill to the left. However, I needed to go right. So, thinking I could perhaps minimize the time it took me to reach the saddle between Gladstone and Wilson Peak, I just went straight up the orange hill. I'm actually not sure if it helped at all. I definitely burned just as much energy if not more forging my own path. Typical. It's probably just a good idea to stay on the trail whenever possible, something I remind myself of yet again...  I eventually made it up the the path once again and headed on to the saddle. There I found another group of three relaxing, waiting for a few other to finish descending from Wilson Peak. I talked to them very briefly, mentioning the weather forecast had looked good up on top of Mt. Wilson. They gave me some words of encouragement: "There's service on the summit of Wilson Peak!" Also, the summit was still in the sun, so that was a good sign I guess.Climbing Wilson Peak was a blast. There are a few different routes you can take, especially near the beginning, depending on how you feel about class 3 climbing and exposure. There's a trail that winds down a bit, before climbing back up the side of the mountain. However, there's also a series of cairns that you can follow, climbing straight along the side of the mountain, to avoid losing elevation. I chose the latter route and it was great! The rock was solid, and sometimes climbing gave way to a nice trail. A little over halfway up from the saddle, I passed a few more people heading down from the summit. Clouds continued to roll in, but the weather seemed to be holding, at least for now.   I neared what appeared to be the summit, hope welling up within my heart. I'd made it! And I'd probably make it down before... oh wait. Damn. What had appeared to be the summit was still slightly below the true summit, and in order to go on, I had to first climb down into a gully, then make my way back up a slightly exposed looking class 3 wall. Well, it was too late to turn back now. I'd come this far, so I was going to finish! I climbed into the gully and then worked my way back up. The rock remained nice and solid the entire way.    Finally, I summited my 14th and final official San Juan 14er at just before 1400. However, due to the weather I decided to snap a few pictures, eat a granola bar, and head down within five minutes. I wanted to be down past the saddle if it started really down-pouring. Also, lightning sucks at 14,000'. Just sayin'. I was back at the saddle in just under 30 minutes and descended from there back into Navajo Lake Basin. At this point, the weather seemed to have stabilized at very overcast with a chance of some sort of storm. Needless to say, it wasn't getting any worse so I took my time above and into the basin, taking some pictures and enjoying the scenery. I figure I would have been pretty safe at this point if things had turned sour.    I caught up to a couple heading down the trail as well; turns out it was the man and woman I'd seen on the northern slopes of Mt. Wilson! We talked for a few minutes. They said that they'd gotten lost in the scree-fest and not quite summited, sharing my extreme dislike for class 2(+) loose terrain. It sounded like they'd had a rough time, but they said they were spending the night with the hope of trying again in the morning. I shared that the southern slopes of El Diente were solid class 3 climbing and that the traverse was pretty fun; they seemed to like the idea of trying some of that instead. I hope it went well! After our brief conversation, I took off down the trail again, pausing at Navajo Lake to take a few more pictures.        The weather remained good the rest of my time in Lizard Head Wilderness. After a few more miles of winding trail, I reached the trailhead and my car at about 1800. The entire trip took a bit longer than I expected, but I definitely wasn't moving very fast on the northern slopes of Mt. Wilson, and I spent a decent amount of time of top of the traverse and Mt. Wilson just lounging as well. Overall, it was a ton of fun, and I met some really cool people! If I go back to climb again in that area, I'll definitely to the traverse again as it was one of the most incredible experiences. In fact, I think it'd be more enjoyable to just do it both ways, not dealing with the slopes of Wilson at all! Eh, who knows... I'd like to extend thanks to the community on this forum for providing me with a lot of info in the forums before I attempted this trip. It's so nice to hear feedback from others before going for something like this, especially not having a ton of experience myself at this point. Thanks to Golden Guy as well for climbing with me! It was great, even though we never exchanged names. And, thanks to the merciful police officer who let me go free (even though I'm a criminal). Trip stats: ~18.5 miles ~6500 ft. elev. gain ~14 hours rt. Until next time. Au revoir! Thumbnails for uploaded photos (click to open slideshow): 
|
| Comments or Questions | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
Caution: The information contained in this report may not be accurate and should not be the only resource used in preparation for your climb. Failure to have the necessary experience, physical conditioning, supplies or equipment can result in injury or death. 14ers.com and the author(s) of this report provide no warranties, either express or implied, that the information provided is accurate or reliable. By using the information provided, you agree to indemnify and hold harmless 14ers.com and the report author(s) with respect to any claims and demands against them, including any attorney fees and expenses. Please read the 14ers.com Safety and Disclaimer pages for more information.
