Castle Peak and Conundrum Peak

We all know that song by the Commodores, right? The one that goes, “Once, twice, three times a summit…”

I didn’t expect these peaks to become the bane of my 14er existence, but I guess that's how things go sometimes.

Attempt #1: I failed due to physiological effects of undiagnosed medical problems at the time. I was only able to manage hiking to the end of the road. However, even if that circumstance had been different, it still would have been a no-summits day due to a situation involving a hiker in distress. Either way you slice it, wasn't meant to be. The snowy landscape was stunning, though!

Attempt #2: I never even started hiking! Nothing like this situation ever happened up to this point, and never since. I was car camping at one of the sites. My alarm went off. I got dressed, went through my usual 30 minutes of prep. But something in my bones felt off. I stepped out of the car, and I got the creepy-crawlies all over. I’d hiked in the dark a lot, so that wasn’t it. I've hiked solo a lot, so that wasn't it. I’m not anxiety-prone, so that wasn’t it. I got back in the car for a few minutes and told myself I was being stupid. So I stepped out of the car again. Nope! Back in the car. I could NOT shake what I was feeling and was irritated I couldn't make sense of it. I kept watching the road half expecting something to emerge. Nothing did. I started thinking the feeling was my guardian angel looking out for me, and even my secular side had to acknowledge my instinct was firing on all cylinders. Despite no rational reason not to hike, I decided to listen to what I was feeling. I felt like a total loser, but it was the right thing to do. "Weird and mysterious" seems an understatement.

But I got to enjoy some beautiful views later on. It was a glimmery autumn day.

Attempt #3: Success!

The Hike

Hello, familiar road. I'm back yet again, and you are still beautiful as ever.

I really hoped to have the benefit of parking closer to the Pearl Pass junction since I’d had the joy of hiking a good chunk of the road previously (made more arduous due to snow coverage, too). Alas, I got to the creek crossing and said, “I’m an idiot if I try going through that, right?” Nobody was around to answer my question. Eventually, a larger truck came along, and the rushing water was to the top of his wheels. I also still couldn't tell if there were any large rocks/boulders hiding under the water. So I decided not to risk it. I back-tracked to the first available camp site not too far away.

It was a lovely, cool evening. I heated up some dinner and enjoyed laying in my rig while it rained softly outside. I slept really well, and woke up feeling normal. No creepy-crawlies. Hooray!

The hike up the road isn’t difficult, it’s just boring, but it was a really beautiful pre-dawn. I got to the Pearl Pass junction, and there were several people camping there who clearly made it through the creek without issue. Oh well.

A little bit past the junction, a pickup pulled up alongside me. “Wanna hop in the back??” My ego had no issue with this; I’d already hiked a lot of the road, this time and before, so I hopped in the pickup bed and spent the next little bit hanging on. The back seat of the truck was loaded with kids squished together, and they were awesome! We chatted a ton which was also a nice distraction from the epic, tragic, repeated rock hits taking place under the truck.

Unsurprisingly, a snow drift cut the drive short, so I hopped out and continued on. Eventually dawn caught up to me, and the sky turned into cotton candy.

Reaching the end of the road was a treat. Now the real fun can begin! There was still plenty of lingering snow, so I donned my gaiters and microspikes. I had brought my axe and helmet for the glissade, but I was also glad to have my axe until I topped out above the headwall.

I kick-stepped my way up the headwall. It wasn't too bad, and soon enough I hopped over onto rocks and encountered little snow after that (until later).

I got passed up by three or four chatty, enthusiastic hikers, and we leapfrogged a couple times. (This becomes an important detail.)

Making my way up Castle, I was laser focused on the glissade path. I had no idea what to expect when I saw it in person. Although I'd brought my axe and helmet, I planned to just re-ascend Castle if I didn't feel comfortable with the glissade in the absence of a partner. It was definitely a lot steeper than I expected. I was pleased with the snow coverage, but I was solo. Usually, when I'm on the fence about whether or not something could be dumb to do solo, I choose the risk averse option. This was no different, so re-ascent of Castle, it would be. (Except it wouldn't. More on that later! )

Back to the enthusiastic hikers: I caught up to two of the gals on the ascent. One of them looked really familiar, so I said that out loud: “You look really familiar!” and she said, “Are you Mary O’Malley??” WHOA. It turned out we’d met at one of the 14ers.com Colorado Springs happy hours I helped organize. She was Cassie, and her friend (who I didn’t recognize) was Heather, and Heather and I discovered we have a mutual friend. We chatted for a couple minutes, and they moved along ahead of me.

Ascending Castle was pretty benign, and I heeded the advice in the .com route description about how best to stay on the ridge. I’m not sure if I did the most spectacular job of it because I’d swear I enjoyed a little easy class 3. But I definitely strayed too far right at one section and suddenly was faced with a class 4/low class 5 wall. I figured that wasn’t right, and as much as I love a good scramble, I also figured I’d better just backtrack a little. Sure enough, I needed to aim further left.

Apparently, I didn't really take pictures of the route up Castle because I was too busy looking around at literally everything else. At some point, the big Elks came into view, and once again I had zero regrets about dragging my DSLR along. It was amazing to zoom in on the greats! As much as I may not be a fan of Elk rock, I’m definitely a fan of the Elk aesthetic.

The light wasn't super great just yet to bring out all the colors, but it would be later. These shots were just the beginning.

I eventually got to the rock rib right below the summit. A couple folks were coming down the less exposed "chute", so I skirted around the side along the more exposed part and went up from there. And just like that, summit!

While I found the actual climb of Castle and Conundrum to be fairly underwhelming, their summits are beholden to some of the best views I've seen yet from any 14er summit. I would certainly repeat these peaks strictly for the views, quite frankly. Stunning.

Cassie and Heather had already been on the summit for a little bit, so timing ended up just right where we all three were headed over to Conundrum at the same time. We ended up sticking together and chatting the whole way, and this was a very fun surprise addition to my day!

On our way over, we discussed whether or not we would descend via the glissade path. They were undecided, as well. We kept an eye on two guys about to glissade and figured that would help us decide. They brought inflatables! Now we felt obligated to stop and watch them. Hilariously - through likely to their disappointment - they had too much friction and went nowhere quickly. Then one of the inflatables took off on its own. Oops. When we saw the guys having trouble getting momentum, we decided we’d be more than okay glissading. Famous last words!

We topped out on Conundrum - but wait! The summit is further over yonder, so we tagged the true summit and then hung out a little while.

Did you know there are furry potatoes on Conundrum??

And now that the day - and specifically the sun - had progressed a little bit, the real colors of the Elk giants began to put on a show.

Alas, it was eventually time to put the camera away and head back down. I engaged “axe skills refresher” out loud. Heather and I both know how to glissade; Cassie's never had the opportunity. Given what we witnessed of the guys really not even needing their axes, and considering the excellent snow coverage and great run-out, it seemed reasonable to just give Cassie a quick show-and-tell crash course in how to do a proper glissade.

At the top of the glissade path, we donned our helmets, and then we paused. Heather and I looked at the steep drop-in and went, “Holey crap, that’s STEEP!” Why did it not look so bad when the guys were dropping in? There was no compelling reason not to do the glissade; this was just a mind-over-matter thing.

I admit, I chickened out and didn’t want to go first. While Heather and I were working that out, Cassie decided to just go for it. We weren’t worried about it and admired her badassery. The problem is, had I been really thinking about it, in the time we were on Conundrum the sun baked the glissade path. You see where this is going.

As soon as Cassie’s butt hit the snow, she was FLYING! Heather and I immediately started yelling instructions at her. In an instant, she was out of sight. The speed at which she disappeared was jarring, and we didn't expect her to be out of sight for so long. (That's how steep it is!) Heather and I partook in some colorful language. We could hear Cassie, and she sounded fine, like a kid on a roller coaster. Finally, she emerged at the bottom, threw up her arms, and yelled, “Yay! I did it! I’m alright!”

Heather went next. I figured Heather’s glissade would go significantly better since she’s got the skills down. But similar to Cassie, Heather’s take-off speed right away made use of the axe very difficult. But, boy, was she trying hard! Same as Cassie, she yeeted down the glissade path, screaming joyfully the whole way.

And then it was my turn. Crap.

Speed's not my jam.

Rational brain: “Mary, it’s safe. You know what you're doing.”
Irrational brain: "Did you effing see that?!?"

Now having had two other people smooth out the path even more, the sledding scene from Christmas Vacation flashed through my mind.

I’m going to put a genuine positive spin on this, though: this was a REALLY good, real-life axe experience without truly being under threat. Better than a practice session because it's not 100% setup, but safer than a situation where your life literally depends on your execution of things.

Unsurprisingly, I took off flying. And for a little bit I felt like I had decent axe control, but then I hit a “wedge” of snow, and that made me lose control of the axe. As evidenced by video Heather took, I yelled a very frustrated-sounding, “SON OF A BITCH!!” while trying to regain use of my axe - which I did! And then it felt like I was going really damn fast, so I figured I may as well use this opportunity to practice self-arrest (even though I didn’t need to self-arrest).

As much as I truly didn’t enjoy the glissade, I at least found it to be more insightful than a practice environment. I didn’t panic when I lost control; I regained control; and I did a good self-arrest. So, those were good takeaways.

And now that I’ve been on the terrain first-hand, I have stronger opinions than I did before that:

1. Nobody should glissade here without an axe and knowing how to use it.

2. Nobody should glissade here without more than adequate snow coverage. I understand now all the stories I’ve heard over the years of injuries from folks flying over rocks - or into them - on this glissade. Speed + inadequate snow coverage are a terrible mix.

3. Nobody should venture down this terrain when it’s dry. It is insanely steep! I know of a couple of close calls - and even more stories of regret.

The re-ascent of Castle isn’t bad at all. Now that I've laid eyes on it, I don’t understand people choosing a risky descent over the re-assurance of simply going back the way they came.

The rest of our descent was uneventful. We glissaded a couple additional sections including down the headwall, and that was fun!

When we got back to the end of the road, we did an axes-in-air pic to commemorate the occasion.

Cassie and Heather were SO fun! Running into them was the best thing ever and made this good day great. We ambled down the road; the day had gotten hot, so the road was extra tiring, but I made the best of it by snacking away on pizza rolls and candy.

They happened to be parked at the Pearl Pass junction, so I grabbed a ride down to my camp site with Cassie. Like me, she had a 4Runner, so now I knew for sure I could have gotten through just fine. But you don't know what you don't know. The day still worked out beautifully!

We all parted ways after one last picture. I cracked open an ice cold chocolate milk (tradition!) and reveled in finally having gotten these peaks. Third time's a charm!

After freshening up, I met up with a friend in Snowmass for a little while and then went to church at St. Mary’s in Aspen. I felt extra grateful for the blessings of the day.

I was feeling pretty tired by that point, so I figured I would overnight somewhere instead of driving exhausted all the way back to Colorado Springs. I stopped at the top of Independence Pass for a bit and of course ran into two people I know. Ha! Random encounters of the peak-chasing kind never cease to amaze me. There are a million different places in Colorado for all of us to be on any given weekend, and somehow we end up crossing paths, anyway.

Final Thoughts

I already wrote out my speech about the glissade and people’s choices, so I won’t repeat that. And I already mentioned these peaks aren’t my favorite climb, but I’d do it again for the views. Definitely, though, these are a great introduction to the Elks! You get a little taste of the quality (or lack thereof) of the rock but without the more dangerous elements that the big Elks offer, which is great. And you get incredible views of all of it. Love.

Thanks for reading, and as always, wherever you may roam, take nothing and leave nothing.