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Peak(s):  Castle Peak  -  14,274 feet
Date Posted:  07/25/2006
Date Climbed:   07/23/2006
Author:  luca_brasi
 Castle - NE ridge to NW ridge loop   

I'm not a peak-bagger. I mean, for the most part I enjoy spending a day or two hiking up a fourteener (look it up, Chi-town), but I'm not going to spend every weekend doing it. I'm probably not going to hike ALL 53 of them in my life. Hell, I'll probably never hike up Mt. Evans because you can drive a CAR to the top.

So when the Clarkster (a self-proclaimed "peak-bagging purist" himself) invited me to climb Castle Peak this past weekend, I thought "hell, I was wondering how I was going to try to kill myself this weekend", and accepted.

So there we were last Saturday morning, Bri-guy, El Nordo, and the always adventurous Clarkster, heading towards Aspen, burning about 40 gallons of Diesel fuel along the way (is global warming a myth?). After a few brief stops to some jobsites to conduct a little business, we met up with Han Solo and Princess Leia in Aspen at the Red Onion restaurant (I'd give it 3 stars, ONLY because OUR National Anthem was being played in FRANCE that day!)

At about 6:00 we made it to the Castle Creek road, a rocky 4x4 road built to haul GOLD down the mountains (eons ago when other countries bought stuff from US!). The trusty ol' F350 we were driving simply laughed at the road, and Han Solo and his Millenium Falcon climbed thru hyperspace to about 11,000 feet, where we finally found a base camp.

After setting up camp (setting up my new tent was a little tricky, having never done it since purchase) and a ride up to the top of the road, we settled in at an alpine campfire to conduct business, drink "stuff" (I'm not sure WHAT Southern Comfort is, but it ain't whiskey!), and listen to The Nord's eerie tales of the
"Tommyknockers", the evil spirits of dead miners that haunt the rocky mountains, well...except The Lebanon mine, which The Nord says "has never had a death, so therefore statistically it CANNOT have a Tommyknocker."

Sunday came a bit too soon. I woke to the sounds of the Clarkster uttering the SECRET PASSWORD outside my tent, and I immediately got up, fired up my JET-Boil (buy one, its awesome, we'll leave it at that), and I got prepared (physically and mentally) for the day's climb.

At about 5:00 AM the Clarkster, El Nordo, and myself were heading up the 4x4 road with boots tied, headlamps on, and the finest HUSKY brand chewing tobacco en route. The road switch-backed for about a mile, and gained about 1,800 feet of elevation along the way. For some reason, having ridden in the F350 up that road the day before, the climb this morning felt very short. It took us about an hour to get to 12,800 and the MONTEZUMA BASIN (that sounds bad-ass, doesn't it?)

The sun had started its rise to dominate the sky about a half hour before, and the shadow's slowly retreated exposing a menacing valley of boulders with a giant sheet of glaciated ice in the middle of it. We met up with another climber along the road, a plumber from Denver supposedly, although neither the Clarkster nor myself were conducting business at the time.

Now, in my relatively short career in mountaineering, I've always noticed that when a group first enters a talus field is the first time "situations" may arise. Some people stop to evaluate routes and reflect on a book they read (the Clarkster); some people (like me) pull out their map and compass for navigation, broadsword in hand in case a few Orcs disturb the group; and people like The Nord, who "just need someone to help me take my pack off, I'm going to the summit!"

Image

Nord & I right before splitting up

Nord and the Plumber headed directly up the glacier (NW ridge route), while I followed the Clarkster up the much drier NE ridge route. Right before the start of the switchbacks, we stopped to wait for Bri-guy and the Rebel Alliance to truck up the road and meet us on the mountain. We waited about an hour, but it was worth it to watch the other two guys ascend the mighty glacier, straddle the sun-baked ridge, and summit the mighty mountain. It was like watching an epic movie on the biggest movie theater in the world.

Image

El Nordo & The Plumber on the NW ridge.

Image

Me, heading up the NE ridge.

When the others caught up with us, I was anxious to make it to the summit. We ran into a group of "Dad-and-Lads" from Michigan who weren't very experienced. Bri-guy took a technically demanding route as usual, and as I feared, one of the "Blue-Staters" followed him. It only took me about 3 minutes before a big chunk of rock dropped down the mountain about a foot away from my head (didn't wear my helmet, sorry Mom!), and I decided to stay on the main route, passing the other "Midwesterners" (ha! Yes I said it) to reach the summit at about 9:00 AM (about the usual time I finish my first cup of the coffee for the day and stop reading mountaineering blogs to actually get some work done).

Image

The whole crew at the summit. From left: me, Bri-guy, Princess Leia, Han Solo, The Clarkster, and the One known as Nord. In the background is the rest of the Elk Range: Pyramid Peak, the Maroon Bells, Snowmass Mtn, and Capitol Peak.

Soon the whole group was together at the top of Castle Peak, and we rejoiced and feasted on Kroger brand knock-off "eezy cheese" (beware the Kroger brand! It loses pressure at altitude) and crackers. After entertaining the Happy Days gang, scribing "phi alpha" into the register log, and taking a few pictures, we again split up as Bri-guy, El Nordo, and myself headed out the NW ridge route. We initially planned on climbing Conundrum, but after climbing DOWN a few hundred feet, decided that we would much rather KEEP GOING DOWN.

A dicey down-scramble put us at the top of the glacier. We were discussing methods of descent. The Nord was arguing for a cautious hike down, while Bri-guy was suggesting a brisk glissade in rubber-soled hiking boots. About a minute into their debate, I decided to just...JUMP.

My boots hit the snow in seconds and I was immediately starting to accelerate at great speed. I crouched into a leaned-back tuck with my arms out to my side, but not touching the snow. My hang-ten probably lasted about 9 seconds, and then I was on my ass with my elbows digging into the snow for steering and heels for braking. I managed to the to the bottom of the first half of the glacier without getting bit, not so much for one of the other guys (who will remain nameless) who yelled "ooh, my ass" (in a prison kind of way).

Image

Bri-guy descending.

On the second half of the glacier, I decided to get a little "gnar-nar", especially with the camera rolling. After conducting a little business, I traversed out to find a perfect line. I took off and stayed upright. I then pulled a 180 into a switch position...and fell on my face sliding down the mountain. I managed to pop back into regular just in time to start braking before hitting the sharp rocks below.

The rest of the crew met up and we started piling into the Millenium Falcon. Another Toyota pulled up next to us, and a guy got out and started talking to us about the climb. After talking to this guy for a few seconds, I quickly put together a list of observations:

1.) That this guy was young, from Aspen, and filthy stinking RICH.
2.) He could easily jog up this mountain.
3.) All his Asian girlfriend wanted to do was dance to techno music.

We headed down the 4x4 road (all except The Nord, who walked down, because...well that's what The Nord does.) and back to camp. We quickly packed up, recapping tales of suspense, comedy, and drama from the climb. While packing up, I found the remains of one of my sandals a few yards down river, ripped to shreds by what could only be a Tommyknocker!

The climb was so good that we rode home with absolutely no thought to life or the coming work week. We also didn't think about 90 miles of bumper-to-bumper gridlock on I-70, that's how great of a climb it was!



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