This TR was taken from my blog:

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Few climbs have haunted me as much as The Prow. This famous ridge on Kit Carson Peak is arguably the most aesthetic and distinct line in all of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. When thinking of the mega classics in the area, Ellingwood Arete was always the famous technical climb that came to mind… until I discovered The Prow. The view of the ridge from outside the town of Crestone is truly unmistakable and just beacons to be climbed. When viewing it from below, it’s not completely obvious how wide or narrow it might be. It’s not until you’re 1000 feet up on the knife’s edge, air on both sides of you, run out 70 feet above your last piece of gear, clinging the only cobble in reach, do you truly grasp the jaw-dropping, pants-pooping loads of exposure that this crazy climb truly has to offer.

Climbing partner, William, and I had planned to climb The Prow multiple times last season and were unfortunately skunked twice during the 2021 season, both times by weather. Mentally, I think we were both pretty ready for it at this point. After patiently waiting an entire year, we we’re chomping at the bit to get on this thing. The plan was to hike up the Spanish Creek Trail on Saturday, find camp somewhere below tree line, then approach and climb The Prow on Sunday. Weather was finally looking like we were going to have a reliable weekend. Afternoon storms around 3:00PM were expected both Saturday and Sunday as per usual during this season, but the mornings were looking clear. As always, we were in agreeance to get on and off this thing as quickly as we could. The Prow is known for its high levels of exposure, commitment, and run out climbing. After the first pitch, the only way down is… well… up. Yeah, one of those climbs. We needed to be good alpinists and bag this one before the conditions turn south.

All geared up, we embarked on the Spanish Creek Trail midday Saturday to begin the epic journey. The hike begins with a section that crosses over the private property of The Crestone Mountain Zen Center. The retreat has been incredibly generous to hikers and climbers in the recent years, allowing passage through their property for access to the Spanish Creek Trail, assuming you fill out their online form, leave it on your dash and abide by their easy rules when on their property (no weapons, no playing music, no camping, no talking, etc.)

I truly love the beginning of this hike. The Zen Center has such a powerful, peaceful energy surrounding it. In combination with the lack of talking, it truly set the tone for the trip. William and I hiked silently up the winding paths through the retreat’s calming hills, inadvertently giving this moment some much needed space. It gave me some time to truly contemplate how I was feeling about this entire adventure: Nervous. Excited. Anticipatory. Tingly. It was all welling up in these beginning moments of the hike. The air felt thick with possibilities. The energy was silently electric; filled with infinite potential, ready to explode in that very moment.

The beginning of this lush trail is decently well maintained for the first few miles after the property boundary from the Zen Center. It’s in worse shape than the other trails in the area, but surprisingly not bad considering the incredibly small amount of traffic it sees. This trail only provides access to two prominent climbs (that I know of) in the area: The South Ridge of Kit Carson (The Prow) and The Southwest Ridge of Challenger Point. The Spanish Creek floods often and as a result, the creek crossing are constantly being washed out a little higher up the trail. After about 4 miles of this, the trail has some really bad deadfall and the hiking becomes more strenuous. It was at this point the weather was threatening to storm, so we set up camp around 4.5 miles in. This would leave us with about a mile and half to approach the next morning. We were luckily blessed with a rainstorm just a few minutes after we set up camp and headed to bed a little before dusk for an early morning tomorrow.

As I lay in my sleeping bag, sun setting overhead, I start thinking over the day to come and how I’m feeling in this moment. That tingly feeling from before comes back, but not after long it turns to an overwhelming negativity. Before I know it, my ego is trying to talk me out of the whole adventure: that I’m not good enough. Not strong enough. That I’ll die tomorrow… Folks, I think a certain amount this kind of thinking is healthy, but it’s also even more healthy to recognize when your ego is on a death spiral and to let it go. I did my best to internalize this wisdom, let it go, and walk into tomorrow the best I can be. It was in that moment of clarity, I knew in the deepest way, that I wouldn’t have been out here about to climb The Prow if I wasn’t 100% completely physically, mentally and spiritually ready to conquer this one.

Day broke and we embarked from camp just a bit after 6:00AM. On quick overnight trips such as this, William and I usually eat homemade vegan burritos, making for quick breakfasts and lunches. The morning hike turned out to be pretty strenuous: a big uphill ascent through constant deadfall with the weight all of our climbing gear. As we were approaching the base of The Prow in the morning twilight, we stopped to discuss which route we should take to the first pitch. In hindsight after seeing the route from the descent, it’s quite obvious where climbers gain the ridge to either the first or second technical pitch of the climb. These grassy ledges are located on the east side of The Prow and not visible until you get quite a ways past the ridge. We were both stoked and ready to climb (and maybe didn’t understand the beta completely?) so we roped up at the base of The Prow, a few hundred feet of easy rock between us and the first pitch.

After about a hundred feet, we agreed the terrain was pretty easy to be belaying out, so we opted to simul climb for about another 250 – 300 feet to a nice ledge: about 2 pitches. It was here we took a short break, switched out approach shoes for climbing shoes and belayed out the first true direct pitch of the Prow. William continued to lead this pitch, as he wanted me to lead the upcoming crux on the next one: a series of 5.8 moves, gaining a bulgy roof.

I could see William climbing for about 100 feet, but after that, he disappeared over the visible ridge and started ascending towards the first small gendarme. His pace started to slow near the end of the pitch. I did my best to be a good belayer and wait patiently (we all know everybody hates being pushed in these situations). After what seemed like a very long pause, William finally reached out to me on the walkie. “I’m in direct. Take me off belay.” Things ran smooth from here: I took William off belay, he pulled the rope up, put me on belay, and the first true belayed pitch finally began for me. The terrain was relatively easy (5.6), but the exposure was starting to get real. We were only a few hundred feet up, but the narrow, balancing quality of the ridge started to sink in. The beta was simple: stay on the middle of the ridge and keep going up. Don’t go on the face. The run-out was as to be expected: William placed 4 or 5 pieces of gear on the first 70 meter pitch.

The rock quality of this beautiful Crestone conglomerate was truly fantastic however. Nothing seemed to be loose or sketchy. And the cobbles made for some excellent positive and negative holds. The climbing was rhythmic and super fun! I made relatively quick work of the pitch and met William at the belay station for the second. It was here we both got a good look at the crux and had to decide if we were committed to finishing the climb. The beginning of pitch 2 marked the point of no return. A retreat would be near impossible from this point forward. It was now, in this moment, we were forced to evaluate the weather and make the call.

Of course we went for it! No wind. No morning electrical storms. No precipitation. The conditions were prime and I was as ready as I’d ever be. We exchanged gear at the belay and I started to evaluate the crux. Luckily, the roof moves are well protected and right off the deck from the belay. Because of this, I actually was able to try the move, feel around for a good hold, lower myself down, then try it again after a quick rest and re-chalking. Once I knew where the good holds were, I flew into it and nailed the crux. A balance heavy 15 foot traverse led to some more gear before the long, run-out slab. The pitch was a little steep and intimidating, but the rock quality and variety of holds were stellar. Yep, grossly run out again. I think I got three pieces of gear on this one. The climbing gods always seem to deliver on this one though: whenever you start to feel like it’s getting a little thin, you’re pretty high above your gear, you’re getting a little spooked, you reach up and find that beautiful monster jug and haul yourself up every single time without fail. This steep pitch ended with a small down climb into a notch with gear for a great anchor. We did our routine: off belay, pull rope, on belay, climb. William was carrying a significantly larger and heavier pack than me and as a result, fell a couple times on the crux. Roof moves are hard with a big pack. Luckily the gear above the crux provided some good protection and pulled him into the right direction for finishing the moves. After about a minute, he nailed it and started zooming up the pitch.

The really spooky stuff was finally over. The end of pitch 2 marked the beginning of some less steep terrain. The following pitches would continue to ease up in steepness every belay, easing both our minds a little bit from the wild exposure. At the end of the second pitch, William told me he’d like me to lead for the rest of the day. He was pretty spooked by the lack of gear and this was making him move slowly. We both knew the faster method would be preferable, so I ponied up and took on leading from here on out. This wasn’t a big deal to me: the climb only got easier from here, I was mentally prepared to lead most of the climb anyway and I was feeling great and super stoked in this moment.

Pitch 3 (technically about our 5th pitch) was the final pitch that had some spooky steepness. A few times you traverse pretty close to the left face and the air underneath you feels hauntingly real. This kind of climbing inspires a hyper-focused state of mind, one that forces you to become the very activity in which you are performing. No judgements, no thinking about the past or future, no thinking about the consequences, no thinking about the rewards. Just you. In the moment. Flowing with the rock. The perfect conglomerate knobs provided a beautiful rhythmic cadence to the entire climb. Pitch 3 ended with a pretty big downclimb after The Prow’s biggest gendarme. The downclimbing was generally easy, just incredibly airy. I had always looked at The Prow from afar and had always thought this would be a super difficult section of the climb. From below, the steepness of the gendarme makes the downclimb look really big and sketchy, but in reality it was only about 25 or 30 feet on relatively easy terrain.

Pitches 4 and 5 flew by. We were alpine pros at this point! Our transitions, belays and climbs were flying by with ease. We were in a nice groove. It helps that the climbing eased to about a 5.3 – 5.5 difficultly. The climb was becoming increasingly easier and low angle. A nice relief, actually! By the time we belayed these two pitches out, we decided to start simul-climbing through the easier terrain to the end of The Prow. The last few hundred feet are in low 5th class/4th class terrain before hitting Kit Carson Avenue: a grass slope that hikers use to cross between Kit Carson and Challenger. I found a good anchor on the Avenue and belayed William up. A friendly (and probably hungry) marmot kept me company at the belay. Soon after, William joined us and we rejoiced to be on solid ground once again!

We stopped for a few pictures and a snack on this nice break from all the exposure. From here, we had to decide what the plan was. We had discussed a couple options earlier in the day and had decided to make the call in the moment depending on weather conditions. We could bail now and hike down, hike the avenue to the summit Challenger, hike to the summit of KC, or climb the final, extra credit pitch the to the summit of KC. Using the ultra reliable and high tech L.A.T.S. weather system (Look At The Sky), I determined the weather was looking like it would hold for at least a couple more hours so I wanted to add the final 5.6 pitch to the summit of KC. I had heard that this pitch was stellar and shouldn’t be missed. William was a little tired but he was still up for it. I had a quite a bit of extra stoke still left in the tank, so I led up the final pitch to the summit. The rumors were true: this pitch was not to be missed! Really aesthetic positioning in front of Challenger and the Crestones gave it an epic feel. Also, there was quite a bit of gear on this one. What a relief! I think I got at least 6 or 7 pieces in on that 70 meter pitch! Near the top, William had to simul-climb just a bit before I could sling a boulder for an anchor and put him on belay. He flew up the final pitch, we met at the belay and walked the final few hundred feet to the summit of Kit Carson Peak. We were both completely ecstatic and couldn’t believe what we had just accomplished. We hugged it out and enjoyed the epic summit views with a few other hikers.

We were already up on the summit a little late (around 1:00PM) so we scooted off pretty quickly after changing back into hiking shoes. The descent off The Prow has you take the South Couloir (not the Outward Bound Couloir) back to the Spanish Creek valley floor. The hike began on the standard route, taking us just about all the way to the avenue, but just missing and overshooting it to get into the couloir. In terms of descents, this actually wasn’t too bad. There was decent amount of loose rocks, but no deadly drops that we didn’t feel comfortable downclimbing a bit. We never had to bust out a rope to rappel any sections. In terms of beta, we mostly stayed in the couloir, but occasionally hopped onto the (skier’s) right wall to avoid some of the bigger drops. About two hours of descending brought us back to our pack drop and another half hour brought us back to camp.

At camp, we stopped to filter some water, eat some lunch and mull over what we had just accomplished. Looking up at The Prow, I was pretty lost for words and was mostly feeling like I could not believe what we had just done. My view of the ridge from below had a whole new, profound appreciation. I knew how powerful and intimidating that rock finally was. I knew exactly just how thin that ridgeline was. I knew how much respect that route deserves. I knew I would never look at that dang mountain the same way, that’s for sure!

The weather held and we blazed down the trail back to the Jeep. The mandatory silence at the end of the trip while hiking through the Buddhist retreat was equally as satisfying as it was when we had first entered. It made for a great cap on the whole adventure: an opportunity to swallow the entire experience in its most raw, unadulterated form. Moments like climbing The Prow are the kinds of moments I continue to chase. When you’re deep into the climb, hyper-focused on the present, the lines between the climber and the climb become blurred. The observer becomes the observed, the viewer the viewed, the climber the climbed… All else fades away.

A little less run-out wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world though…

The Prow (5.8R) + three extra credit pitches

• 9 pitches
• 5 hours of climbing
• ~ 2 hours of descending
• ~ 2,200 feet of vertical ascent
• #.3 – #2 Cams, black – yellow Aliens, full set of nuts, 10 slings, 2 cord anchors
• 70m single rope

Some final thoughts on The Prow:

• We left my #.75 on the route. Go climb The Prow and it’s all yours! Let me know how the climb was!
• This is probably the best alpine climbs I’ve done. The setting, aesthetic, rock quality and exposure is truly unbeatable. This is one I’ll remember for the rest of my life, that’s for sure. (Yes, it’s better than Ellingwood Arete)
• Yes, it’s grossly run-out. 3 to 5 pieces of gear per 70 meter pitch was normal. Only lead this one if you’re a super confident 5.8 leader, as a fall could be fatal.
• Simul-climb as much as possible (it’s so run-out anyway!)
• Don’t miss the final 5.6 pitch to the summit.
• Descent down the South Couloir was fine.
• Only one more climb for me to finish out the big trio of technical alpine routes in the Sangres: I’m looking at you, Crestone Peak – North Pillar (5.8)!