Pacific Peak, reminiscent of a large wave in the ocean that has been petrified for eons, stands at 13,957'. It's almost a 14er, but not as popular as the adjacent 14er, Quandary Peak. This day was full of monumental challenges. Although climbing mountains is physically enduring, most of the battle is mental. As I looked through a notch in the ridge, I said to myself, "This is the most exposed I've ever been on a ridge. This ridge feels like a tightrope sprinkled with loose rock."
Earlier in the week, Andrea and I wanted to select a mountain that wasn't popular and would be a challenge. 13ers are always a good option for this desire, since Colorado has well over 200 to choose from. Initially, we wanted to climb Father Dyer Peak, but later decided on Pacific Peak due to it nestling the nation's highest lake (13,420') called "Pacific Tarn". Recently, a local scuba diver dove the lake, setting a record for the highest scuba dive. Stole my damn idea! Anyway, we had a couple days to mentally prepare for this climb with logistics, food, and gear. I invited our friend, Ben, to climb with us. He's been our consistent rock climbing buddy for the better half of the year.
It was Friday evening and once again we were trying to fall to sleep early due to us needing to awake at 2:00am. When the alarm clock beckoned with its hideous tone, I arose with the ceremonial phrase, "Shit, what's going on?" Once the initial panic of interrupted REM sleep dissolved -- I was able to come to terms with reality. We left our place around 2:40am to go pick up Ben down the street from us which happens to be a quick traverse through Garden of the Gods. All the three of us were a little drowsy as we began the drive toward Breckenridge. When it's this early, the drive only takes about 1.5 hours. Not bad. Everytime we go to this area to climb on Quandary, or to ski, we always miss the damned Blue Lake Road because the sign only faces the opposing direction. Once we found the road after several misses on Hoosier Pass, we were on schedule. "The Quandary parking lot is looking pretty busy." Andrea said to me. Some of the hikers starting moving their gear out of the vacant parking spaces to make way for me. I said, "Not this time, fellas." And I kept driving. The road quickly became a rough 2WD; however, I swear parts of it were some gnarly 4WD. There was a point where I needed to put the Xterra in 2L just to get up a hill. Only 1.68 miles though. We found plenty of parking.
Let me start by saying, Pacific Peak is not an adventure you take your family from Texas or Florida on. There is no trail. One must pick a line and go with it, so we did. The first approach was gnarly as hell. Bushwhacking turned into bush grabbing to prevent sliding down the hill. Roots serve as great hand holds FYI. Thankfully, this portion was only to gain 150 vertical feet. It quickly ended after about 20 minutes. We came upon the crest of a grassy meadow where the three of us hydrated and consumed fuel for the next approach. This part of the hike was by far the easiest. It was just a mild grade uphill with a labyrinth of willows to negotiate. We trekked up toward the ridge where the class 3 scrambling began. "Let's go ahead and hydrate again." I mentioned. The time was 7:00am. Not too bad for starting at 5:30am. The sound of Pikas and Marmots were filling the air. A warning, perhaps?
Here's the thing with class 3 and class 4 scrambling/climbing. It's not physically hard; however, the amount of concentration it takes is exhausting. The first class 3 tower was too bad. There were some loose rocks to balance on and some exposure. After all the hydrating, voiding bladders was necessary. I try my best to only pee on rocks, since there's some vegetation that can die from the contents in urine. I guess it's just the eco-warrior in me? Try to pack your poop as well. I know, it's hard to do sometimes. Okay, enough with poop and pee etiquette. What lied ahead was a little innerving. At the crest of one tower upon this narrow ridge was a small traverse. Essentially, it was a ledge about two feet wide with loose hand holds which stood close to 1,000' above sharp talus. The three of us slowly traversed across it, holding our breath. What a rush. When you have control over your mind, you can ignore the potential consequences by having such a magnified concentration in the present moment. It's very Zen-like. The story of this ridge was the following: Up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down -- all on very loose boulders, shifting with every other step. Imagine being the tallest object on a narrow ridge thousands of feet above solid ground, balancing with every step, hoping not to slip up. Hands sweating yet? Well, there's a small knife-edge traverse. I wouldn't recommend straddling this knife-edge. The rock was about as sharp as a knife. The best method was to cling over the edge and laterally shuffle across. At the top of this tower, Ben said, "Dammit, we're not even close to Pacific Tarn." It is astounding how long this class 3 and 4 ridge exists. You really get the sense that you're closer to the summit than your really are. The rest of the scrambling wasn't too bad. It took an additional 45 minutes to an hour to get to the lake.
We hobbled over toward a photographer in a bivvy to question his route choice because there was no way in hell we were going to spend another six hours on that ridge with the possible threat of thunderstorms moving in. The photographer was a young guy by the name of "Savan" (spell check). He mentioned that he ascended the talus slope from the southeast and it wasn't "too bad". Andrea, Ben, and I had a quick lunch before climbing the last 400' to the summit. Pacific Tarn was a beautiful blue color this day. It was very interesting sun bathing next to the highest lake in America. The approach to the summit wasn't bad at all. Some loose rock. of course, bur only took about 20 minutes to ascend. We met a very young guy descending from the summit. He said that he climbed from the North Couloir which had no snow. We were thinking, "Are you freaking out of your mind?" Some of that couloir is 5.5 rock climbing grade. I noticed that he was either wearing worn out Keds or Sketchers. I guess that dude has some serious skill, or serious stupidity. We finally made the summit after close to seven hours. Andrea had cell service, so we thought it would be fun to stream a live feed onto Facebook for our families to see.
The decision was made to descend the southeast side of the ridge. The three of us were pretty nervous about this talus slope which is literally the only "easy" way down. Once we reached the edge of this slope, we were quite baffled. Loose talus rock at a little more than a 40 degree angle with a mix of old snow and scree for hundreds of feet. We decided it would be best to utilize our third wheels (the ass) and slowly descend. This was by far the most dodgy part of the day. Each movement triggered falling rock. We were cognizant of the fact that we should descend parallel to each other rather than a straight line which would prevent possible injury. Regardless, we still ended up with chewed, bloody hands. This descent took roughly 45 minutes. Very slow and tedious. At any moment, it felt like either of us could take off tumbling down the slope. Once we reached the bottom, we let out a sigh of relief and looked back at the monster. There were a couple other hikers staring into this abyss with hesitation.
We were now on the valley floor with plenty of shifty, rock hopping to go. All three of us are seasoned hikers/climbers and even with toughened feet, all of us were feeling the pain with each step onto uneven rocks. We found the start of the grass and became very happy. The grass was moist and spongy which felt like paradise. Ben and I began to sing movie themes such as: Last of the Mohicans, Jurassic Park, Star Wars, and Indiana Jones. Little did we realize, a new challenge awaited us...
"How should we get back to the car?" I thought. The car was up and over the ridge we came down from. We decided to connect with the McCullough Gulch Trail which would ultimately take us to the trailhead and then to the road we drove on. The only problem is is that it would've added a couple miles to our hike. We came to a junction that was alluring. Ben had the idea that we could bypass the last of the trail and the road, bushwhack .25 mi and be back at the car. We all agreed to this option, since we were so tired; however, the bushwhacking ended up being quite exhausting and we weren't really sure which direction would be best. A thunderstorm was beginning roll in, so we were getting a little nervous. Ben still had a ton of energy somehow, so he offered to take my keys and scramble up this slope real quick, and drive the Xterra down the road and meet Andrea and me at the road. Andrea and I kept bushwhacking through the Aspen trees to get down to the road to meet Ben. After about 20 minutes, we saw been wander down off of a hill and he said, "Hey guys, got the car." We were said, "How did you find us out here?" He wasn't sure how.
We made it to the car and indulged in some fresh coconut water. It was more than just a tough day. Very challenging and epic. I don't think there's anything else we could've done right. Perhaps, staying on trail would've been a better move, but hey, we wanted to take the adventurous route. This was definitely the most mentally draining climb I've performed. Physically, my muscles were still strong. I was just bruised and bloody. After four days of healing, I'm nearly 100%. Our next adventure is in the Sawatch Range. Andrea and I will be climbing Missouri which is near Bel/Ox combo.
All of this extreme training this summer is building up into one moment. Climbing Mt. Rainier in September. I think we're ready. Look forward to the next post about Missouri. Should be a good one!
Cheers,
J
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