Red Cloud Peak (14,034 feet)...

The hard (and stupid) way.

I have a confession. I'm lazy. When presented with a choice between Girly-man easy and Ironman tough, I'd choose the wimpy way all the time. I don't even feel Jewish guilt over my decision. It's my way of pacing myself and avoiding injuries.

So..with my usual glance at a map and 14'er guidebook, I set off on a well-trod path. 

At a little over a mile, I saw a few midget sized cairns leading across Silver Creek. I read somewhere there was an alternative, simpler and more scenic route to the top. I reckoned this was that trail. Well, I had the right idea, but the wrong mountain. That pretty way was on nearby Handies Peak!!  A Senior moments strikes again. 

The trail went from prominent to obscure up the South Folk drainage. At the base of a 1,400 foot scree field, the piles of cairns played themselves out. Hmmm. I think I can, I think I can. I started crabbing my way up the slope. Sometimes it was one foot forward, a two foot slide back.

Once, I made the mistake of looking between my shaky legs. It was so steep. How steep, Jeff?  It was so steep, that a drop of switz (sweat) went straight down toward the abyss. Returning the way I came wasn't an option. Going up is safer than allowing gravity to force you down. I kept crabbing up on all fours.

At a saddle, I saw this sign. See the photo. 

Sometimes, I just get lucky. 

I made it to Red Cloud and took the easy way back. 

Cheers and don't have senior moments when you are hiking 14'ers. 

Happy Hour in Durango, Colorado

Jeff

So Many Colorado Wilderness Areas

So little time. 

With the chill of Autumn arriving way to fast for this blogging Cold Weenie, Jenny (the Wandering, Wondering Jew in training) and I saw firsthand a few of Colorado's Wild Places. 

We spent three nights in Crested Butte where the town's slogan should be, "You don't have to be a young stoner to live here, but it helps." From this village of HIGH, we drove and hiked higher. We managed to gain some altitude in the Ragged and the Maroon Bells Wilderness. On one jaunt, we ascended "Oh Be Joyful" Creek. A very correct name for the scenery surrounding us.

As far as the Maroon Bells goes, the atmosphere was downright tepid on top of Frigid Air Pass, (12,451 feet). 

On another day, we joined forces with Paul and Robin for a hike to 12,088 Cataract Lake. It's true, you meet the nicest people in the mountains of Colorado.

This blogger is now one beat and beat up dude after my scree filled ascent to Red Cloud Peak. 

But that's another blog.

It's almost Happy Hour in Lake City, Colorado 

Cheers

Jeff

Yes there are fungus among us too.

Of Old Maps and Men...

and the Continental Divide Trail in Colorado. (Remember High Country in this Cannabis Friendly state can have a few meanings.) 

The other day when I topped out on Cottonwood Pass (12,161') with Barley, I was astride the Continental Divide. For those who don't understand the concept of the Great Water Split; here it is. If you spill an IPA brew on the sunrise side, it will flow toward the Arkansas River and even further downstream into the Gulf of Mexico. Waste a good beer on the sunset side, and it will percolate to the Colorado River. That liquid won't make it to its old delta, every drop is appropriated by three very thirsty lower basin southwestern states. 

Back to the story: I stopped long enough on the pass to appreciate the view. I noticed a trail leading south. Just as I was about to explore what it was all about, a thunderclap and a bolt of electricity chased me back inside my van. I checked an ancient map I had of the area and it showed no trails in the vicinity. Later, when I camped with my buddy and ex-forester Paul,  he told me what's it all about.

"People were putting in social trails adjacent to the actual Continental Divide. The routes got pretty banged down along the ridge line. The U.S. Forest Service finally decided to make it part of the official CDT. You can follow it forever." 

Well, maybe not forever but at least to Columbus, New Mexico. 

I chased three or four miles of the trail the next day. I shifted to and fro from one side of the Divide to the other. The views were all grand above tree-line spectacular. 

For once, rogue social trails turned out to be a good thing. See for yourself. That sage grouse was the only hiking companion I had that day. I enjoyed his company. 

Good night from Gunnison, Colorado.