It's been a minute since my last trip report, but I've decided to briefly emerge from my retirement era to write about a great trip over Labor Day weekend. As usual, even on a holiday weekend, 13er crowds remained nonexistent. This trip was my first to Ice Lakes Basin, and a great adventure with some close friends.

I was joined by Joyce, my friend from NY+CA, and Miles, my little sister's boyfriend from MA. Though Miles and I live here now, I'm originally from CT, so we had a whole trio of obnoxious transplants for this one. Joyce and I usually have a Winter and a Summer adventure together, while Miles is slowly building up his resume of 14ers and 13ers in Colorado. We all have adventures, though, and it was great to have the timing align for this trip.

We began up the Ice Lakes trail with our heavy packs on, ready to crank out a couple of miles before setting up camp. As expected, we noticed a couple of things. First, the scars from the fire a few years back were evident on the lower portion of the trail. Second, some of the more casual hikers were a little... ambitious -- from people without packs (or directions), to those drinking unfiltered water near a densely populated trail...etc. We raised an eyebrow, but such is life. Not to be outdone, we realized how out of shape we all were, just in time to set up our tents in the rain.

After the rain stopped, we all enjoyed some hot meals courtesy of REI, Jetboil, and Good To Go. So began yet another one of my sleepless adventures. While Miles and Joyce rested peacefully, I tried once again (in vain) to get some sleep in the mountains. It was a chilly night, but not so much so that it should have affected things. Still, I couldn't fall asleep, and I tossed and turned over and over as I waited for the sun to rise. Grouchy from lack of sleep, I got up with the group around 7 and we started to move. But, as #responsiblehikers, we made sure to get our dynamic stretch in first.

The trail steeped a bit before Ice Lakes, but we had mostly smooth sailing to start the adventure. I had brought an extra summit pack from my car along in case either Joyce or Miles needed one. Joyce was appreciative, but I had forgotten that it was the "if you have to" pack. It really had no chest or hip buckle, and I felt guilty. So, I tied a strap of sorts with paracord, and brought my makeshift Denver Divers bag from underwater to 13k, while Joyce used my regular summit pack. It was a janky setup, but decidedly functional. The good news, though, is that once we arrived at Ice Lakes, nothing else really mattered.

As expected, the second we took a single step past Ice Lake, the crowds went away. There was one exception: a tent placed rudely in the middle of some sensitive tundra. Annoyed at this (probably from lack of sleep), I trudged onward toward Fuller Lake with thoughts of knocking the tent down. It kept me distracted from my cardio shortcomings, though, which was a plus. We made quick work of Fuller Lake and tried to routefind our way through a talus field above the lake. Miles took a more central route, while Joyce and I went right/around, but neither of us found much luck. Talus, on more talus...

Eventually, though, we gained a minor bump and found cairns! We were back on route, with a defined pathway leading us to, unsurprisingly, more talus. Ahead of us loomed a large headwall full of dinner plate talus/scree, and it looked thoroughly miserable. Thankfully, though, a trail led all the way through this. What looked like hours of slogging turned into a quick (albeit steep) jaunt in the orange rock field. We donned our helmets near the saddle, with Miles and I wondering how Joyce, despite coming from sea level a week ago, was leaving us in the dust.

From the saddle, we knew we were close to the summit by elevation, but there was some work to be done. I had nagged each of them to read multiples TRs/bring screenshots, since apparently normal people don't do this for fun while they're bored at work. They obliged, and we all headed up around some initial obstacles. It stayed at class 2 IMO, but it was getting more exposed and closer to the 2+ range. Miles explored a high route, and, upon getting cliffed out, astutely pointed to a line approx. 15 feet below the ridge which stayed on the trail. Eventually, we arrived at an exposed ledge system that reminded me a lot of South Maroon. It ended in a steep gully, and we had to move judiciously. Here's what this looked like:

We arrived at the steep gully and ascended. I went into the main gully, trying to find a side where the whole mountain didn't move. This was sketchy, class 3 loose rock over exposure, and I didn't love it. I tried to hug a wall while stepping on loose dirt, but it was a little messy. Miles and Joyce, though only a few feet away on the other side of the wall/rock rib, had a much more pleasant time. They went up on 2+, mildly loose terrain, with plenty of options. Needless to say, we went with their option on the descent.

We arrived at a notch with what appeared to be the summit pitch in sight. Once again, it was like a yellow, mini-Maroon. There were a couple of ledges, with some exposure underneath us. Though short, this was the crux of the route in many ways. We took turns ascending, with Joyce leading, followed by Miles and I. We arrived atop the ridge and marveled at the amazing San Juan views.

The summit was small -- enough to fit the 3 of us, but we were happy not to have been sharing. For a centennial without the fearsome reputation of, say, a Vestal or a Thunder Pyramid, there was a surprising amount of spice. With this in mind, we carefully picked our way down the summit pitch, taking special care not to climb directly above one another. The rock, as is typical for the area, remained plenty loose. We descended from the notch down the steep gully, this time with me joining Joyce and Miles in the better option to descend. We stuck to the route and soon found ourselves back atop the saddle, ready once again with trekking poles. Though we had considered heading over to Golden Horn, we decided against it for both weather and timing-related reasons, as Miles had to make the long drive back to the Front Range that night.

Though the descent to Ice Lake was largely uneventful, I once again managed to get us off-route in the talus field above Fuller Lake. It set us back time-wise, and we began to notice how much the clouds from the morning had built up. We arrived at the lake and almost immediately began to get sprinkled on as we descended towards our camp. One rocky area on the trail was surprisingly exposed, and we were happy to have walked over it before it became soaked. Needless to say, we were back in tourist-land as well, and the rapidly building weather did nothing to check their ambitions -- plenty of folks were walking UP in a soon-to-be thunderstorm.

We arrived back at camp, having now been intermittently rained on for a while. Miles had forgotten his rain jacket and pack cover in the car, and he had silently been getting soaked for the better part of an hour. We thought that setting up camp in the rain was miserable, but, compared to packing it up in the rain, we'd opt for the former. The three of us made a total mess of ourselves, trying to dry our gear as much as possible while loading our heavy packs. We had rolled our eyes at the tourists before, and now, look at us! 30 minutes of shaking out rain flies, poor folding jobs, and cleaning up trash made for quite a spectacle. Oh, and in my haste to get our food bag down from a tree, I snapped the paracord that we had used to tie it off. So, the bag stayed in the tree, and Miles and I took turns throwing rocks at it to knock it down. Eventually, though, we got it, and we were able to pack up without leaving anything behind. We began a slippery descent with full packs on, and and we all took care not to fall. A couple close calls later, and with my foot now in pain from the weight of the pack, we made it back to the car -- just in time for the rain to stop, of course.

We packed up, grateful to all be uninjured, with a successful summit and great trip under our belts. I was so happy to have been able to share this experience with Joyce and Miles, and I can't wait for our next adventure! It's been a more chill year in 2024, and though my days of 3AM starts every weekend are in the past, I'm so happy to still be able to hike/climb all Summer. Amidst what can be a lonely endeavor in the 13er world, I was beyond thrilled to be able to summit a peak I'd been eyeing for a while with such great friends/hiking partners. Here's a pic of us from near Fuller Lake, only 20ish minutes before the rain began. On to the next one!