With summer waning, I looked down at my Colorado todo-list, and found that many of my goals for the summer had been sidelined, delayed, or replaced. I had summited only 30 new 13ers, down from a goal of 80, and had just a week left before heading back to school. But one item jumped out at me: Slate Creek. With a forecasted pause in the daily monsoons, the Slate Creek Group seemed like the perfect set to round out a summer where rock climbing and technical traverses had repeatedly displaced peak bagging. What was more true to 13er list-chasing than obscure and challenging low 13ers of the eastern Gore?

I had long planned on doing the traverse from L to N in a single long day from the car, but I couldn't convince myself to orphan Q and R, and after a whimsical linkup of Kieners and Keyhole Ridge on Thursday, I didn't think I had the energy to get them all done in a day. So, reluctantly, I dusted off my tent, found a backpack big enough to put it in, and started looking for a partner. My dad had just returned from a few weeks climbing in the Canadian Rockies and Bugaboos. He was recovering from some awful sickness and didn't really have much business being in the Gores, but we hadn't gotten to climb together much this summer, so he rallied.

With the great weather on Saturday, it seemed a waste to just hike into Slate Lake, so we climbed a quick lap on Royal Flush before hiking in. The crowded sport route has long been on our to-do lists, and it seemed like a perfect way to spend the morning. Dad was kind enough to let me lead the whole route, simulling the first two tiers, then climbing the upper tier in three long pitches, starting with the Aces High variation. After a while soaking in the views, we wandered down the steep trail, taking it super slow to baby my knee. I think we were about 4 hours c2c. It was a fun diversion, but not one I am likely to repeat. A whole lot of effort for 3 pitches of pretty good, moderate climbing.

Not wanting to hike in during the heat of the day, we spent a few hours napping, soaking our feet in the Blue River, stretching, and eating burritos from Chimayo Grill. Finally, in the mid afternoon, we rolled down HW9 to the Brush Creek TH. There are four commonly used approaches for Slate Creek; Brush Creek, Harrigan Creek, Boulder Creek, and North Rock Creek. If you have a vehicle that can make it to Brush Creek, it is the way to go, as it saves about a thousand vertical feet of gain and a little mileage (unless someone will shuttle you into Boulder Creek TH, which is shorter but no parking). The road into Brush Creek isn't very rough except for one steep spot with some deep, sandy potholes and a bit of an edge that you wouldn't want to roll off. Easy in the Taco, not advised in a Subaru.

We set off a few minutes before 4 pm, the sun a fat tyrant over the parched land. The thermometer read 84 degrees. The Gore Range Trail started with a steep climb, then a steep descent, and this would be the way of the world for quite some time. It appears that trail maintenance ends at the junction with the Lost Lake Trail, and the portion from there to the Slate Creek turnoff holds a remarkable 185 downed trees. Yes, I counted. Even on such a dry year, it was good to see that South Brush Creek and Nuchu Creek were both flowing, so you could go light on water and filter. The trail alternates between climate zones repeatedly; beautiful forests of aspen and spruce with lush ground cover of rose, monkshood, and raspberry; dry sandy timberlands of sickly lodgepole pines with thousands of blown-down trees; open slopes beaten dead by the August sun, clothed in brown grass, rabbit-brush and sage.

It is roughly 5 miles to the turn off for Slate Creek, with 900 feet of ascent, and unfortunately descent as well. As soon as you turn up Slate, the scenery is better and the downed trees relent as you arc through meadows.

Over the next two miles, you climb just 100 feet as the mountains get steadily closer until suddenly they surround you. It somehow reminded me of the children's book Ming Lo Moves the Mountain. As the walls close in, the high prairie and beaver ponds are replaced with lush cascades and dense forests. After another half mile, the trail begins climbing in earnest to reach Lower Slate Lake at 9,900 feet, just 9 miles in. Unfortunately, I might recommend camping here due to the wildlife at the upper lake. It is another 1.5 miles to the upper lake, where we set up camp beneath a lovely sunset. We had seen several piles of fresh bear scat in the trail, but none near the lake, so we hoped for the best.

As it turns out, the bear (which we never saw) was the least of our problems. Shortly after pitching the tent, a large herd of mountain goats arrived in camp. They were aggressive, salt-crazed, and immune to all forms of intimidation. For the entire duration of our stay, they never strayed more than 100 feet away from camp, would try to steal any sweaty clothes we set out to dry, and would gather in a menacing circle if you even looked like you might try to pee. But as it turns out, they were not the most destructive pests. It was the snowshoe hares that devoured everything. I left my shoes and summit pack under the vestibule of our tent. Socks shredded. Summit pack ruined. Rabbit stew has never sounded better.

With a perfect forecast, we decided to rise at 6 am for a relaxing morning. We got wandering at 6:45 and began following the climbers trail around the south side of the lake. It was mostly pretty easy, with an occasional light route-finding across slabs or wetlands. At the end of the lake a lot of the traffic peels north towards Peak L, and the trail going towards South America Lake begins to fade. Above the waterfalls, the terrain is pretty forgiving, and it didn't seem important to find the series of cairns that lead southwest, where the best route stays high out of the vegetation. It was after about 35 minutes that I realized I had forgotten the water filter at camp, so I dropped my pack and ran back down to and around the lake. I was able to keep the delay to 40 minutes, but it was exactly what my tired legs didn't need.

Peak Q was a real fight. Dad felt pretty sick and I felt unusually weak with dead legs and a worthless engine. At this point I had little optimism for LMN, and was hoping to salvage Q and R. We fought our way up the boulder field then up solid and fun 3rd class slabs on Q's broad northeast ridge. After an eternity, we reached the summit ridge, where a short but enjoyable section of class 4 leads to the summit. It is a commanding place, with immense views over the entire Gore and beyond.

The route we descended on the east face of Q was a little loose, but went quickly enough, and we soon traversed above some lingering ice to reach the class 2 ramp that grants access to the northwest ridge of Peak R. Here, I was finally starting to feel better, but Dad was feeling even worse. The route up R is steep and stable with options ranging from class 2+ to 4 in the gully to the west of the ridge. I enjoyed it quite a bit. We agreed that Dad should head back to camp, so after descending R together, I filtered some water at South America Lake, and set off solo for Peak L.

My route up L started by heading due north from the outlet of the lake up steep slabs towards a large bench at 11,900. The lower angle gullies were choked with willows and junipers, so I just stayed on the rock, finding and enjoying some fun low 5th class. I then cruised east on stable talus to the base of an obvious gully, which I headed up to intersect Peak L's ridge at 12,650. From there it was easy class 2 up to about 12,900, where the slabs and quality scrambling started in earnest. From here on out I stayed exactly true to the ridge crest, enjoying quite a bit of 4th and low 5th class. It could certainly be kept easier, but the rock was so good I was left with no choice.

After a few more optional 5th class moves, I arrived at the knife edge. I would say it is less photogenic than Cap's since its south side isn't too steep, but the moves themselves are probably a little slabbier/trickier than Cap.

The final pitch to the summit, staying on the ridge crest, offers really wonderful 5th class terrain. It is solid with sweet cracks and features. The 4th class route is a little further east, but I wouldn't bother looking for it. Just climb the dang splitters.

The summit of L is a grand one, with exciting views of the ridge to come, as well as a front row seat to Powell, the Ripsaw, and the rest of the Gores sprawled out to the south. I knew it my hopes of reaching peak N would be quickly dashed if I fell behind on hydration or calories, so I took 3 solid breaks on the way up L to chug electrolytes and force down some beef jerky, figs, and nuts, reaching the summit an hour and ten minutes after leaving the lake.

I was disappointed to see that L, like Q and R, was missing a summit register (unless it was hidden well). After eating (drinking? slurping?) a gel, I started heading east along the ridge. The initial down climb looks intimidating, but I was pleased to find that it was solid, secure, and hardly exposed 4th class. A short section of faster travel leads to the first major tower, which I went over the top of on class 2 terrain. I down climbed the back (class 3), then was presented with a choice on the 2nd tower. Staying on the ridge looked too hard, and going left would force me to drop a couple hundred feet from the ridge. Looking back, this might have been the thing to do. Instead, I took a convenient ledge on the right, that for a while seemed too good to be true, before dead-ending into a shitty gully. The down climb into the gully was loose 4th class, but not too exposed. Going up the gully, however, was the crux of the day for me. Minimal exposure, class 3/4, but just awful rock. Decomposed in my hands. After about ten minutes trying to decide if I could safely climb the brittle rock, I ended up stemming up between the walls and mantling into the notch on the ridge, but I didn't enjoy it at all.

Once crossing to the northwest side of the ridge it was pretty cruiser class 2/3 to get to the base of Gore Thumb, which I decided to tackle directly. About half way up my chosen crack system the holds kind of went away and it got pretty licheny, but I didn't want to down climb and traverse around so I locked in for a few moves and it soon got easier. Hard to say if I was just a little spooked but my route up felt like 5.4 or 5.5 at the time. I took a short break on top and enjoyed the spectacular position and views. I then headed down the standard 4th class route on the NE ridge crest and found it to be pretty casual. Definitely recommend taking that route both up and down.

My approximate route including Q, R, L, and the route from L to Gore Thumb

After Gore Thumb, I dipped west under some towers before heading back up a steep class 2/3 gully to regain the ridge at 13,040, near the false summit of Peak M (Guyselman Mtn). It took me a little under an hour from Peak L to here, despite my route finding mishaps and chilling on Gore Thumb.

From M to N was mostly pretty quick class 2 talus, with the exception of the initial descent from M. I dropped west down a class 3 gully then crossed over a rib and cut back to the ridge at a big notch. From there I descended a loose class 2 gully to the east before again following a major ledge back to the ridge. The rest of the way is straightforward with only a few small towers to sidestep or scramble over, never exceeding class 3. It took me 25 minutes from M to N.

To return to upper slate lake, my possibly unwise recommendation would be to reverse the route to Peak M, then descend the east ridge to 12,600 and drop south. I dropped straight off of N into the basin to the southeast, crossed the rock-glacier, then ascended 500 feet back up to reach the same point at 12,600 on M's east ridge. The steep slope down from N was awful. One thousand feet of Hell Simulator. I would be willing to do a lot of extra effort to avoid this section, and I think going on the ridge would have saved me 5-10 minutes. I had allocated 75 minutes to get from Peak N to the ridge, and while on the loose junk descending from N, I was certain I would miss that target. Luckily, the rock glacier and the gully on the other side were easier than expected, and I was surprised to get there after just 50 minutes.

Luckily, the descent to Upper Slate Lake from 12,600 was much easier than I had feared. With tolerable footing and a reasonable angle, it took only 40 minutes to reach the outlet of the lake. I then found the best wild raspberries I have ever seen, so I was delayed another ten minutes by eating a truly shameful amount of berries.

Dad was sleeping when I got back, but I was fed up with the wildlife, so when he woke up I convince him to move camp down to Lower Slate Lake. It ended up being a great choice, that yielded a better sleep, and a shorter hike out on monday morning.

The hike out felt longer than it should have, but eventually all 240 downed logs were behind us, and by the time we reached the truck in late morning, it was already 85 degrees.

Few peaks encapsulate the Eastern Gore as well as the Slate Creek group, and these mountains impressed, challenged, and exceeded my expectations at every turn. The approach was more effort, the rock more solid, the valley more lush, the scenery more splendid, and the memories more wild and pure. It is places like this that make peak lists worth it, because without the list, I might never have been lured so deep into the Gore wild country. Many wanderers have reported magical experiences in the dense woods and soaring ridges of the Eastern Gore. You never know what you might find in the middle of all that solitude.