“What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy.” —George Mallory
Yes, joy. I certainly understand that. I love being alone out in the wild country at 4a.m., anticipating the coming sunrise, breathing the cool, pine-scented air, and feeling the crunch of the trail beneath my feet.
And, yes, I said alone. Imagine that! Sure, I enjoy the company of people, too–and will seek it out depending on the difficulty or dangers involved in any particular outing, or simply to be with a good friend. But, there is something about being alone with just your thoughts and the wilderness at an hour when most are home asleep. You have the trail, the mountain, and the world to yourself. And all is at peace.
Another outrageous habit: on these hikes and climbs, I don’t wire myself up with an iPod. Heretical, I know. So, none of my adventures come with a soundtrack, a habit that seems to be the usual way to survive existence these modern days. Instead, I am alone with my thoughts, which wander near and far, from the very personal, to distant memories, to politics, to music, to future adventures…and, of course, to all the questions (with answers unknown) that humans have always asked themselves since consciousness began.
Maybe this solitary time in the hills is somewhat like meditation? Could be. You have the rhythm of both your steps and your breathing. The quiet of the landscape wraps around your shoulders. And you have your thoughts, which can be moved this way and that, focused like a beam in one particular direction, or swept away to complete nothingness. Time spent this way is certainly quite cleansing.
On this trip, an orange thumbnail moon, rising just after starting up the trail, lent just enough light on the scene that I could shut off my headlamp. I like hiking this way. It eliminates that small, round, circle of light that limits your world and brings you back into contact with the larger environment. You become part of Earth, as we should be, rather than separate and isolated, as we humans too often think of ourselves.
Trip Report: Mt. Princeton (14,197′)
Route:
The East Slopes Route from the lower (winter) 2WD parking area. This made the climb significantly longer than the typical summer foray when one can drive a 4WD vehicle up to the communications towers. In summer, you can potentially do this in 6 miles total and 3200′ of elevation gain. Today’s winter option involved 13 miles round trip and maybe 5200′ of elevation gain–a definite workout, especially if one is not in usual summer hiking condition.
Timeline:
I left Boulder at midnight and was walking up the trail (the snow-covered 4WD road, actually) by 3:20a.m. At my slow, steady, Teton two-step pace, I passed the radio towers two hours later. I was on the lower shoulder of Tigger Peak with the first glorious light of dawn, where I spent maybe 30 minutes with some camera play.
Following the summer trail across the traverse below Tigger, I made the saddle/ridge by 9a.m., and the summit of Mt. Princeton at 10:10a.m.
Leaving the windy summit at about 10:45a.m., I was back down to the trailhead at 2:30p.m.
So…6+50 up, 3+45 down, with 11 hours and 10 minutes total, including rests and photo stops.
I have heard that one ought to plan an hour for every mile of a winter hike in the high mountains. I think this is probably a reasonable rule. I was a bit faster than that schedule today, but probably only because much of the route follows a 4WD road and is fairly easy walking–and I didn’t need to do any trail breaking through deep snow.
Weather Conditions:
I had been waiting for a good weather window that matched my personal schedule for a month and a half. Finally! The forecast looked very good, with high temps close to 30 degrees and low winds (10-15mph). The day before, however, the forecast changed to include winds of 20-30mph, gusts to 40mph. Hmmm…that could be uncomfortable, if true.
In the end, the forecast was accurate. The winds were the only issue, and I think I made it off the high part of the mountain before they really picked up to maximum forecast velocities. Once back down in the valley, I could see big snow plumes billowing off of all the Sawatch high peaks (see the last image of Antero below).
Trail Conditions:
Microspikes were the ticket to the show today–no need for Grizzly Adams snowshoes.
Going beyond the lower parking area at 8,900′, even in my 4WD Toyota Tacoma, was not possible due to the snow depth and consistency. I tried, and made it all of 0.2 miles before this became blatantly obvious. I backed up and parked in the lower 2WD parking lot.
The road from the lower lot up to the towers had been packed down by a Snow Cat or some type of tracked vehicle, which made for fairly easy walking. On the south-facing slopes, the road was actually snow-free in places and starting to dry out. From the towers, up the 322A 4WD road, there were no vehicle tracks, but enough of a hiker/snowshoe track had been established, that the walking here was reasonable, too–with the exception of a few short sections of blown and drifting snow.
In the twilight, I passed up the area where the foot trail leaves 322A as the cairns were buried in a snow drift. I knew I was close, though, so I simply started up the slope toward the lower shoulder of Tigger Peak and, sure enough, almost immediately I spotted the summer trail to my right and slightly downhill.
Based on the relatively light snow cover, I elected to go ahead and continue following the summer trail that traverses the lower north slopes of Tigger. With heavy snow, there are maybe three gullies on this traverse that hold potential avalanche danger, but not today. There was some slippery blown snow at these spots, but the trail was either packed or on boulders on the rest of the Tigger traverse. (With high avy danger, definitely go up the windswept ridge to Tigger, then over to Princeton, instead of using this lower traverse!)
The slog from where the traverse starts to fade out up the scree to the Tigger-Princeton saddle was a bit tedious, as was the boulder-snow maze up to Princeton’s summit. It would have been easier to walk directly on the ridge along the more established sections of trail (which I did on the way down), but I was trying to avoid the wind and was staying below the ridgeline.
The hike down was quick–especially once I got back to the 4WD road–and uneventful.
Photography Issues:
–Very often, in the wilderness, you see things that are impossible to photograph. Today was a prime example. The dawn was stunning, but I was unable to really capture that feeling in my photographs. Partly it was because of where I was (on Tigger’s shoulder) instead of where I had hoped to be for sunrise (on the Tigger-Princeton saddle). And partly it was because some scenes are simply impossible to capture–the smell, the wind, the temperature of the air, and so on, are elements a digital sensor will ignore.
–In high winds, keep the tripod as low as possible and wait for a lull to snap the shutter. Winds usually cycle (like waves) so brief pauses in atmospheric violence often occur at regular intervals.
–Spindrift is much like sand. Try your best to protect your camera and lenses. Change lenses on the lee side of a boulder and inside your pack.
–With high winds, keep close track of everything at your photo stops–lens caps, filter bags, gloves, whatever. An inconvenient gust can levitate these items and make them disappear into oblivion in less than 1/1000 of a second.
Unusual Events/Comments:
–On the way back down, I saw a tracked ATV heading down from the towers. Then, a bit later, two ATVs (wheeled) came up the road. This makes me think that the road from the 2WD trailhead to the antennas will very often be well-packed fairly soon after a winter storm.
–With enough snow coverage, Nordic skis might not be a bad option all the way up to where the foot trail takes off up toward Tigger. This would make for a very quick return trip, but you’d have to carry your walking boots. Today, there were enough sections of dirt, rock, and crappy ice, that the ski option would have been marginal at best.
–There are some nice campsites and a few parking spots a few hundred yards up 322A from the towers. Consider this for a great summer (or even winter) basecamp.
–With heavy snow, consider getting to Princeton via Tigger’s east ridge and summit. That way, you avoid any potential avalanche danger on the summer trail traverse area.
–In winter, goggles and full face coverage are nearly indispensable as are hiking poles to maintain balance in high winds and in boulder/snow fields. Other gear–skis, snowshoes, microspikes, ice ax, crampons, etc. will depend on the route and conditions.
—Colorado 14er Senior Challenge summit count: 26 of the basic list of 58 (p. xxiii in Gerry Roach’s 14er “Bible”, Colorado Fourteeners, 3rd Ed.); 32 of the long list of 73 (pp. 347-348, with South Wilson added, also in Roach’s “Bible”.
Selected Images:
A look at some of the drifted snow up high on road 322A as well as the lights of the town of Salida. The cairns which mark the start of the foot trail are buried somewhere under those drifts:
I had hoped to be up on the Tigger-Princeton saddle at this hour, but it’s a long hike. In this location, there wasn’t much choice of foregrounds to build a composition:
All bundled up against the cold wind on the summit. I had to anchor my tripod (set as low as possible) in the rocks to make sure it didn’t blow over:
On the traverse across the lower slopes of Tigger Peak, you are essentially in the rotor of the west winds slamming into the opposite side of the mountain. This was captured looking up at the Tigger-Princeton ridge from far below:
And now, on to the monochrome images…
The view toward Mt. Antero from the summit ridge of Mt. Princeton:
A closer view of massive Mt. Antero:
From Princeton’s summit, you can look down at how far you have come…and the path of your return to uncivilization:
Heavy snow plumes up high as the winds pick up later in the day:
Princeton, with Tigger Peak on the left. With a close look, you can spy some of the 4WD switchbacks and road as well as the Tigger traverse trail:
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