I do not own a car. It is for this reason that I find myself living on Isaak Keskula's schedule. I was looking to climb Cristo Couloir this weekend, and Isaak had time- in the middle of the night on Friday. (I have no clue why he couldn't have done it Saturday morning, but that's Isaak for you.) To add to the challenge, he had decided to fast for Good Friday. He would not eat anything for the whole trip.

The plan was simple- leave Golden at 9pm, blitz up the couloir, and be back before sunrise. I could taste the excitement in the air as we planned our outing. After getting my pack together, I walked to Isaak's dorm room for a gear check. He said something about wearing his hard shell versus soft shell pants, but I was just excited to go and didn't notice that he didn't have a layer beneath them. I figured that since he's from Alaska and has some experience, he would be fine, whatever he chose to wear (this would not be the case). For this reason, also took his advice that trail runners with ice spikes would be sufficient for my first couloir (as I am writing this on Monday, my big toes are still partially numb).

We left around 9:15pm on Friday, and despite an accidental detour towards Morrison, made it to Blue Lakes road by around 11:15pm. There was a closure about 2 miles from Cristo, but the were tracks along the way until we reached thinner snow and could stick to the dirt on the left side of the road. The mood was hopeful as we got ourselves ready at the car- the full moon allowed us to clearly see the snow-covered beauty of the Tenmile Range. In fact, it was bright enough that we didn't need our headlamps for most of the hike. We made good time to the Blue Lakes Dam, and started up Cristo Couloir around midnight.

At the base we decided to stick to the rocks as much as possible to avoid possible avy danger from the wind slab problem. After some light scrambling, we reached the flatter spot pictured below. Around there I put on my microspikes. The wide, white slide of the couloir loomed over us, reminding us of what we had left to climb. The snow was crusty when we ascended, but firm enough around the left edge of the couloir that we had to use our axes to cut steps. We took turns leading the way until we gave up on snow climbing decided to stick to the rocks even further to the left of the couloir for the rest of our ascent.

After a long climb up the rocks, Isaak and I finally summited around 3:20 am on Saturday. As we sat in the snow on top of Quandary Peak, world slept so very beautifully under moonlight's cold watch that this has been my favorite trip so far. After not eating all day, however, Isaak was starting to suffer (he liked it). After a short rest, and a few pictures, we descended the couloir.

Isaak led the glissade down. The crust on the snow broke easily under my butt, and I found myself slowing myself by digging my heels more often than by using my axe (this may have been a mistake, as my feet became very cold). Especially towards the top of the mountain at the beginning of the glissade, the snow I had let loose began to join my descent, so I stopped frequently to keep it under control. I still felt safe because cracks in the snow were not propagating- it was only the snow in my path that I had loosened myself that was sliding.

Our final challenge was to descend the mixture of conglomerate and ice that forms the ramp from the road. After that, neither of us were doing well. I ran ahead to get blood flow to return to my feet (I was numb up to my lower calves). After my feet regained some life, I waited for the light from Isaak's lonely headlamp to reach me along the road. The Isaak Keskula who rejoined me was a far cry from the man who had left the car the night before. With each step he whimpered, yet he stoically continued to the car. As we would find out later that day, he had contracted frostbite all over his butt. But as Isaak slept in the passenger seat and the sun rose over our long drive back, I felt like I was glowing.