| Peak(s): |
Wilson Peak - 14,021 feet "West Wilson" - 14,101 feet El Diente Peak - 14,175 feet Mt. Wilson - 14,256 feet |
| Date Posted: | 07/16/2015 |
| Date Climbed: | 07/01/2015 |
| Author: | michaelgrundy |
| Additional Members: | rohit, marcstrawser |
| Peak(s): |
Wilson Peak - 14,021 feet "West Wilson" - 14,101 feet El Diente Peak - 14,175 feet Mt. Wilson - 14,256 feet |
| Date Posted: | 07/16/2015 |
| Date Climbed: | 07/01/2015 |
| Author: | michaelgrundy |
| Additional Members: | rohit, marcstrawser |
| Wilson Group and the Traverse that was Snow Joke! |
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"Are you all set to go?" I asked Rohit as we stood next to his car at the Woods Lake Trailhead. He nodded his head and we started walking towards the trailhead marker. The plan for that morning was going to be pretty simple. We were on our way in to Navajo Lake to meet up with our friend Marc who arrived the day before. After that, the goal was to climb three fourteeners in the area: Wilson Peak, El Diente, and Mt. Wilson via the traverse. Since it was a seven hour drive from home, and we both had to take time off work, failure was not an option. We located the trail marker for Woods Lake Trail and eagerly started making our way up. "How does your pack feel?" I asked Rohit. "Feels heavy," he replied. "Tell me about it!" We were both carrying close to 45 pounds of gear up the gentle sloping trail.   As we moved through the densely forested area, I noticed how quiet everything was. The only things that made any noise were us and the mosquitos buzzing around our heads. "Pull over for a second, I want to put on some bug spray," I said. The mosquitoes seemed to be getting worse as we hiked deeper into the forest. We both quickly rooted through our bags to locate the bug spray and covered any exposed parts. The cloud of chemicals that surrounded us quickly dispersed the evil blood suckers and we were finally able to move without anything bothering us. It was just the two of us walking through the forest. We enjoyed the scenery of the forest, trees circling us in every direction and foliage covering the ground. The path that we followed gradually became steeper which caused our pace to slow a little bit. We had over 2000 feet of elevation to cover this morning to get to the lake and we knew with the extra weight on our backs, it would be slow going. The forest finally gave way as we gained elevation and it afforded us different views; no longer trees and foliage but an array of mountains. And not just the mountain we were heading towards, but ranges of mountains and the valleys they hid below. "I see the junction sign up ahead!" I yelled to Rohit. This was great news because this meant that we have finished most of the elevation gain to get to camp. We decided to take a five minute break to have a snack, take the bags off, and take a few pictures. "We only have about a mile and a half to the lake," I said. He asked me about the elevation gain and I mentioned that it was mostly downhill from here. He nodded and said, "Let's go." We started to cross the ridge crest that would allow us to descend down the other side into Navajo Lake Basin. We had to drop around 400 feet down a steep hillside to access the lake, and ultimately our base camp for the next two nights.  As we walked down the steep trail, we started to get our first glimpse of the lake and we began to keep our eyes open for Marc. The plan was to meet up somewhere near the lake. As we continued up the trail, we finally saw him standing there, waiting for us. Success. "Hey, Marc!" Rohit yelled up ahead. Marc escorted us to his campsite across the stream that drains from the lake. The site was small and simple, with just enough space for two tents. We were surrounded by the stream on one side and a clearing of rocks on the other. The twenty or so other people camping around the lake were close, but at our campsite, they melted into the background. Perfect. Solitude. It was approaching noon and we had just hiked in four and a half miles, carrying 45 pounds on our backs. We had set up the tent, repacked our summit bags, and got prepped for departure. Now that we were all set up, the rest of the day's goal lay in wait: Wilson Peak summit. We had contemplated whether or not to try a peak the afternoon we hiked in, and with the weather in our favor, we thought, "Sure, why not? We haven't done that much yet today." The smaller summit packs felt light. As a matter of fact, the backpacks were probably close to one third of the weight we had just carried into the basin. They were so light that we felt that we were carrying a bag of feathers instead of our mountaineering equipment. Marc, Rohit, and I started to make our way along the lake. It was beautiful. The water was mostly snow melt which resulted in a color that you only seem to find in high alpine environments. It was a deep enveloping blue; and crystal clear, yet so deep and mineral rich that the bottom wasn't visible, so it looked like it went down for forever. Absolutely beautiful. A perfect commercial for beer.  As we climbed past the lake and began to gain elevation, our views began to change, and we got our first glimpse of the snow. Ahead of us was Gladstone Peak. It was steep, rugged, daunting and stood over us measuring more than 13,900 feet above sea level, yet it wasn't our goal. We are headed to Wilson Peak, a 14,017 foot tall mountain that was hidden behind a ridge to the north of Gladstone Peak. As we climbed into the upper basin, we begun to encounter more snow. Marc, who had hiked in this basin before, took the lead through the snow fields. "Do you see any cairns?" Marc asked us. Rohit and I looked around but all we could see was snow. The route was buried. Marc started to walk across the snow towards pockets of rocks that would allow us to climb easier. He decided that we were pretty close to the route but with the snow, it was anyone's guess if we were actually on route. The snow was rotten. In some areas, we could walk on top of it easily. In others, you would post hole above your knees. The main problem was that it was unpredictable which step would cause you to sink. You could be walking on top of the snow and then, suddenly, sink above your knee. The three of us chose our own paths through the snow as we walked towards a spot where the snow was melted and the ground was accessible. Marc post holed the entire time and was unhappy about it. I chose a different route and was able to walk on top of the snow with ease. I guess that is how it goes sometimes. Rohit chose to follow my footsteps and managed to stay above the snow as well.  As we got past the snow in the upper basin, we started up to the Rock of Ages Saddle. "Is that the ore cart that I have seen pictures of?" I asked the group. It was. Just below the saddle this ore cart sat perched overlooking the upper portion of Navajo Lakes Basin. The remnants of an old mining building were near the cart that reminded us of the history in this basin. A reminder that we were not the first people to set foot here. Naturally we stopped and took a few cameo shots of ourselves with the cart.  We finally reached the saddle and stared at our objective for the day. The only thing that stood between us and Wilson Peak was a ridge containing sharp rock and snow.  "You see that cairn over there?" Marc asked us. He pointed over to a spot of the ridge that was our entry point to the upper part of the route. "That is where we are headed." As we made our way along the route, the rocks seem to get worse. They were like glass - fragile and sharp. Not a nice combination.  We climbed along the ridge for about thirty minutes when Marc, who was traversing a section of this glass-like rock below us, yelled up, "It's a deep one." I looked down at him. He stood there for a moment and then made his way up to me, moving purposefully on his way up. His right hand was covering and putting pressure on his left hand. He was quiet. He had cut his hand on the rocks as he tried to catch his balance during a fall. He kept the cut hidden from my view but I knew it was deep. I reached into my bag for antibiotic ointment and gauze. We worked together and got his hand wrapped up while Rohit scouted the route near by. The blood eventually stopped but his hand was not going to be very useful to him. Determined to summit and grateful the first aid efforts stopped the bleeding, Marc decided that he wanted to continue on. We only had about a half mile left to the summit. Marc and I made our way up to Rohit who had waited for us a little higher up on the mountain. "The route goes up this way," Rohit said to us. Marc and I followed him up along the ridge for a while and finally out on to the summit block. The view from the summit was amazing. The sky was blue and the valleys below were green. It was the perfect combination of colors. We made it.  As we sat there, taking in the view, I was proud of what we had just accomplished. I then turned and looked at our upcoming hurdle across the basin, the El Diente - Mt. Wilson traverse. Sighing, I realize this afternoon's difficulties on the journey would most likely pale in comparison to what we were about to take on tomorrow. The traverse is considered by experts to be one the "Great Traverses" since it is one of the biggest, hardest ones out there. And after the snow we had encountered, I was anticipating added difficulties. Back at camp, Marc talked to one of our camping neighbors and found out he was a physician's assistant. Thankfully, the good neighbor was able to give Marc Novocain and stitches for his cut hand. He was warned about the possibility of infection and was sent on his way. We were truly lucky that there was a skilled person in the basin that could offer up some medical help. Maybe with Marc's hand sewed up, we were hoping to be able to complete the traverse tomorrow, together. After a great night sleep, we were ready to take on the buttress, and eventually the traverse, to gain access to both of the other fourteeners in the area. We started on the same trail as the previous day, but in the upper basin, we took a right.  "Are you ready for this?" Marc asked us as we stood under the North Buttress of El Diente. I looked up at this massive ridge and traced the route high up towards the summit. The route was snow free as high as I could see.  "Bring it on," Rohit replied. All three of us felt well rested and ready to go despite the big climb the day before. We started to pick our way up the massive ridge choosing the path of least resistance. The rock on this mountain was very different. On Wilson Peak, it was fragile and sharp. Here, it was tough and rounded. The problem here, however, was the stability. Some rocks would move with minimal force applied. Car sized boulders would wobble the moment you placed your foot on them. It was not the most confidence inspiring rock that I have ever been on. We had climbed up to around 13,000 feet when Marc yelled, "We have a problem!" Rohit and I climbed up to where he was, hoping it wasn't his hand causing him issues. It wasn't. Upon catching up to Marc, we saw the problem: a 30 foot ridge of snow lay in our path. While the snow ridge itself didn't gain much elevation, the sides were extremely steep. One step to the right or left and we would have had a pretty nasty fall. The knife edge that it formed reminded me of the route up Capitol Peak, except this was snow. "We can either climb over it or try and find another way," Marc said. As we stood on top of the buttress, a quick glance around immediately told us that there was no other way. We decided that we were going to test the snow to help make the decision. Either we continue on or we have to descend and call it a day. Marc stepped on the snow to test it. It was both soft and firm. Perfect. "I'll go first," Marc said. The hard part was gaining the top of the knife edge since you had to step down off of the rock and then back up to the snow ridge itself. Marc struggled to find his footing but once he was on top, things started to flow. He carefully made his way across the snow and found safe haven on the rocks on the other side. My turn. I dropped down onto the edge of the snow and tried to find my footing. The snow was crumbling under my weight but I eventually got on top of the knife edge. I was able to slowly trace Marc's steps along the ridge and soon, I was on the safety of the rocks. "That's not so bad," I said to Marc. Rohit was next and he quickly joined us.   "This isn't going to be too bad," I thought to myself. Based on the extra time and energy we took to cross the snow ridge, I probably should have guessed how the rest of the route was going to be, but I didn't. Here we are on class four terrain and snow is starting to play a leading role on our little adventure. Yet naively, all I could fathom is, "This isn't going to be too bad." Just after we crossed the knife edge we were forced to cross a small gully. A small, steep, snow filled gully. It wasn't very big, maybe 15 feet across but it was steep - easily over 40 degrees. Marc, again, was the first one to cross it. He made it look easy. The boot pack was in place and now it was Rohit's turn to go. He crossed the gully with ease. Typical Rohit. I hate him for that sometimes. I plunged my ice axe down into the snow and took my first step out on to the gully. It was steep. Surprisingly, the snow felt firm and comfortable. Here I am, standing on a pile of snow with 1000 feet of gully beneath my feet. It was a weird feeling. I should be scared but I am not. I am entirely too focused to be scared. I slowly made my way across the snow and step back on to the rocks. Made it!   "I guess we are committed now," I said to the two of them. We only have 500 vertical feet to go to reach the summit and there is no way that I am going back across those two snow obstacles. It was time to climb up and get this job done.  We move carefully through the upper part of the ridge and walk out on to the summit 30 minutes later. Finally after just 3 hours, we were standing on the summit of El Diente Peak at 14,159 feet.   The summit was small and had exposure on all of the sides. As we stood on the summit, we started to look at the big goal for the day, the traverse. It runs from El Diente to Mt. Wilson and is around one mile long. The traverse is not for the faint of heart, even in good conditions. And these were not good conditions. As I looked across the traverse, I saw patches of snow along the way. Was it going to be on the route? Was it stable? Deep? Steep? Finally, after about 30 minutes, it was time to go. Time to get to the last peak. Time to get answers to all my questions; these questions were not going to answer themselves.  We started moving towards Mt. Wilson along the ridge and noticed that the rock was stable.   We were only about 100 yards off of the summit when we encountered our first obstacle. On our left, a cliff rose up to the ridge, to the right, some difficult class five climbing to get around a bulge of rock. The route is supposed to go between these two features but it was full of snow. "We can't go up. How does down look?" Marc asked me. "It looks pretty difficult to get below this rock," I replied. "Down the snow then?" Marc said. "Let's do it!" Rohit said. The snow formed kind of a natural slide between the two features. The only issue was that on the far side, the snow became even steeper and there was nothing below it. Marc was the first out on to the snow. To prep, Marc had to bury his hands and feet in the snow to keep from sliding down the slope unintentionally. Rohit and I got prepped to follow him from the safety of the rocks. We needed our ice axes for this slide. Before I got my backpack back on, Marc was already sliding down the snow slide and found his footing on some rocks. My turn. I was a little less comfortable than Marc so instead of sliding down, I decided to kick some steps into the snow. The method took longer but it gave me a greater sense of security. I slowly made my way down the slide and stepped out on the rocks. Success! "How is your hand?" I asked Marc. I was a little worried because the more he needed to use his left hand, the greater chance he had of ripping his stitches out or getting an infection. "It's okay," he says. Just then, Rohit joined up with us. Time to start moving again.   We continued to work our way across the traverse, and felt we had put more ground between us and El Diente.  We then climbed up to a spot on the ridge that gave us a better view of the route. From here we could look back at El Diente - where we had come from. It was close. Damn. We haven't come very far and we have been climbing for over an hour. We need to keep moving but when you feel like you have been climbing for hours and do not see much progress, it gets hard to stay motivated. The traverse was a lot more difficult than it really should have been due to the snow. We climbed down along the side of the ridge and kept struggling to find where the route was supposed to be.   The route seemed to be throwing us curveball after curveball. Since the snow ridge, there had been many more snowfields to cross. Some easy. Some hard. Each time we crossed another snow field, Marc had to plunge his wounded hand into the snow, at the risk ripping his stitches and/or an infection. I looked up at where the route is supposed to go but there is more snow in the way. That was the story of the day - snow. Snow in our way. Snow. "The route goes up there," Marc said. Rohit and I started to look around for an alternate way we could take. We had done that for the entire traverse due to the conditions. Snow has a funny way of making you take a more difficult route to avoid it. By the time I spotted the cairn, Marc had already made a difficult move above the snow. "I think the route is supposed to go over here," I said up to him. It was too late; he was already above the difficult part. Rohit started to move up the same way that Marc went. I watched him make some difficult moves and studied where to go. I started to climb up behind him and we both made it over the difficult sections.  We had made it to a sub peak called West Wilson. We were getting close! We kept moving along the ridge, the mountain wasn't going to climb itself. We descended off of West Wilson and continued along the ridge toward our goal: Mt. Wilson.  "Marc!" Rohit yelled out. He waited for a moment and then yelled again. Nothing. Marc liked to climb ahead of us to see what was coming and help guide us through the difficult portions. It was an awesome system, except for the fact that Rohit and I climbed a little faster than he anticipated. Marc had not gotten into position yet to guide us through what we were looking up at: a cliff face running the same direction as the ridge with a steep snow field lying right against it. The only visible route was to hug the cliff face and hope the snow would hold. There were no hand holds on the rock. "Perfect," I thought sarcastically. Another issue was that there was a cairn across the snow field and lower on an intersecting ridge. Rohit and I stood there for a moment trying to decide where to go. Do we cross the open snow towards the cairn or do we hug the cliff and hope it leads around to better ground? "Do you think we should go for the cairn?" Rohit asks me. "I don't know, maybe," I replied. It was hard to tell if we should go that way since there was so much snow. We talked about it for a moment and then decided to go for the cairn since that was where the route was supposed to go. Just as I started to step out onto the snow, I heard, "Don't!" from somewhere up ahead. Marc had finally found a spot that he could see us and he saw where we were thinking about going. "Follow the rocks up to the ridge to the right," he tells us. Unbeknownst to us at that time, beyond the cairn, there was an extremely steep and potentially dangerous snow field. That would have been a very bad move had we made it. We hugged the rocks and slowly made our way along the top of the snow field. Since there were no hand holds all of the support was coming from the snow. Luckily, the snow was in good shape and was holding our weight without any problem. I climbed up along the rocks and gained the top of the ridge again. That was just how this route was- up and down along a ridge. I caught a new glimpse of Mt. Wilson and it was close. Very close. We have just one more gully to go before we climb out on top of the highest peak in the area.     "Damn!" Marc yells. He was ahead of us and was looking at another snow filled gully. This one, was different. Usually Marc just crossed the snow without any problem but this one had him frazzled. With all of the snow we had crossed, he had finally hit his breaking point. Given his hand in its current condition, it came to no surprise that he was over it. "I can't get through any of this ice," he said to us as we approached where he was standing. He tried to plunge his ice axe into the snow slope but it would not go in more than a few inches. Not enough to support his weight. "We have to climb up there," as he pointed to what appeared to be a featureless cliff. As he climbed up the slope past us, Rohit and I looked at each other. We couldn't figure out what was so different about this snow field. Everyone has their breaking points and apparently Marc had reached his. Not only were we physically tired, we were also mentally drained. Rohit and I stood and discussed possible options. The snow field was only 30 feet wide but very steep and on the other side, a rock filled gully that would allow us to access the summit. As we talked, Marc was beginning to make very difficult moves along the face of this cliff. We didn't like it. "Do you think we should try the snow?" Rohit asked me. "It has to be better than that," I replied as I look up at Marc. I started to move to the snow field and tried to get my ice axe to plunge into the snow. Nothing. Usually, you plunge the handle of the ice axe into the snow and hold on to the head. This time, I had to do something different. I grabbed the handle and swung the pick of the head into the ice. The pick punctured the ice and gave me something to hold on to. I kicked my feet into the snow but was unable to get any footing. My foot slid down the ice without even putting weight on it. I had to try and reach further; out to deeper snow. I pulled my axe out of its current position and reburied it further out on the slope. The pick held well and I kicked my lead foot further out. I was able to find solid footing! "I think this is going to work," I said to Rohit. I started slowly to cross the snow field by kicking my feet straight into the snow and making steps. By this point, Marc saw our progress and decided that it was a much better way to go. Frustrated with himself, he mumbled obscenities under his breath on his way down to us. I finally crossed the snow field and got on to the rocks. Rohit crosses behind me and then Marc. "Let's go!" Rohit says anxiously.  We climbed up the gully and finally, after over 3 hours on this traverse, climbed up on to the summit of Mt. Wilson standing 14,246 feet above sea level. Exhausted we did our traditional summit shots and pictures. We gave ourselves a well deserved break, sat and enjoyed our views. Expansive mountains of the San Juans were all around us gently kissing the clouds above them. Beautiful beasts of mountains all lurking on the horizon and visible to us with impressive bold beauty. We had accomplished our goals safely, but we still had to make it back to camp.  After 30 minutes on the summit, we started to descend. We were headed towards a snow field gulley on the north side of the mountain, into the basin. After a short descent, we were looking down a 1000 foot snow field. "Time to glissade, just watch out for rocks," Marc said. He sat down and started sliding down the mountain. "This is going to save us a bunch of time," I said to Rohit. I sat in the same track that Marc had just made and started sliding down the hill.  The ride was amazing! As I started to get lower on the hill, and to the end of the snowfield, I started braking with my ice axe and my feet. I came to a stop and started to cross the hill to where Marc was. Rohit followed right behind. From here on out, we were on easy street.  After nine and a half hours, we finally arrived back in camp. It was a great day albeit very difficult. Way more difficult than it should have been. Traditionally the route is only supposed to be class 4 scrambling, but with the snow, we were forced to choose different routes that upped the difficulty to class 5 climbing. "Can you believe that we just did that?" I asked. Marc and Rohit nodded. "It was unbelievable," Rohit said.  We continued to reminisce about the difficult moves that we just had finished. Not only did we just complete one of the four "Great Traverses" in Colorado, we did it in snow. It's amazing how snow can make everything more difficult. Snow is, after all, no joke. We had to be on top of our game for this hike, and we were. The hike was amazing. Thumbnails for uploaded photos (click to open slideshow): 
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