Monday, May 6, 2024

Update on Email Subscriptions

Hello from John and Jennifer, a quick note about subscriptions to get notified about new posts to our blog. 

Google (which owns the Blogger platform) discontinued a service called Feedburner for email subscriptions. Here is more info on that. They did allow a download of all email subscribers, so we did that and uploaded them to the platform we are now using to enable people who wish to be notified via email of new posts. That service is follow.it, which you'll see on the web version of the blog on the right side and a button at the very bottom of each page.

You didn't get an email notification when we published the post on the High Five 100 last week because your emails were migrated to follow.it after it was published last week. You can access it now, by clicking on the link.

One of the main reasons for choosing follow.it is they promise No Spam for subscribers.


Thursday, April 25, 2024

High Five 100

Catching Up

It's been quiet on the "doing big things" front for a couple of years following the giant Nolan's 14 year of 2020. Summer of 2021 was dedicated to a massive home deck rebuild, which was followed by knee surgery for John to repair a torn meniscus. 

A tear of another sort put the kibosh on our summer 2022 plans to get out and do adventuring in four of the big mountain ranges (Gore, Sangre de Cristo, Elk/West Elk, and San Juan) in the Colorado Rocky Mountains and pace friend Brandt Ketterer in the High Five 100. In the first week of July of that year, John was diagnosed with a detached retina, which required two eye surgeries and downtime for basically the entire summer season.

Thankfully, the last few years haven't been entirely dedicated to recuperating from injuries. In September 2022, we took a trip to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. We did a couple days of sightseeing in Geneva, Switzerland, then five days of hiking and trail running in the Alps out of Chamonix, France and next to Nice, France for some relaxing and beach time on the Cote d'Azur (a.k.a. French Riveria). Fantastic trip! John did manage to squeak in an injury, though...badly rolling his ankle on a trail run in the Alps above Courmayeur, Italy. 

The Alps above Chamonix, France

Onward

December and January is when we start contemplating big challenges and adventures that we may want to do the coming summer. Jennifer proposed that perhaps I'd like to submit an entry for the High Five 100, or attempt a solo run on the Hardrock 100 course. The High Five 100 caught our attention when it debuted in 2019. It's an under the radar challenge that most mountain ultra runners haven't heard of. Logan and Caitlin Rhodes are the couple from Lake City, CO who created it to capture the essence of the ultra marathon by making it just on the edge of what's possible to do in 48 hours. It's different than a typical ultra race, in having no aid stations, no course markings, no entry fee and an application process consisting of submitting your mountain trail ultra resume with emphasis on your experience in relentless mountain terrain and unpredictable weather conditions.

The purity of it appealed to what we have come to value in mountain ultra marathons and experiences.

Still recovering from my ankle injury and uncertain if it would hold up through the training required in the coming months, I submitted my application on UltraSignup in January. In early February, I received the email with condolences confirming that I'd been accepted!

Preparations

As she does, Jennifer immediately began the planning. She set out a training plan for me, which, among other big efforts, included what we called "Elbert 3 Ways" in early July, which ended up being a 15+ hour overnight extravaganza up and down Mt. Elbert via 3 different routes, with almost 15k' of vertical. It yielded benefits 3 Ways. 

First, it was a great test piece to hone and see how my endurance was shaping up after a couple seasons off.

Second, Brandt Ketterer joined me for the whole thing and it's always great getting out with him. Our tired eyes were treated to an amazing sunrise inversion from the top of Colorado at 14,438". It also gave me many hours to ask him questions about his experience running the High Five 100.

Third, Dave Scheibel took note of my Strava and offered his services to pace me in the comments. I'm generally more comfortable doing these things alone, but as with Nolan's 14, I figured I'd need all the help I could get. Although I hadn't spent a lot of time with Dave, I felt that we would be compatible, he was experienced playing in the mountains, and he seemed super stoked for the experience. 

 Jennifer and I targeted several trips to Lake City, Colorado, which is a 4 hour drive from our home, as soon as the mountain snow conditions allowed, which ended up being late June. The main objective of these trips was to get feet on and scout as much of the route as possible, but also to enjoy the amazing San Juan Mountains of southwest Colorado. We hadn't been there in years and it was great to get back into the depths of that amazing area.

Doubts remained about whether I'd be able to do it, due to my still painful right ankle and the uncertainty of whether I'd be able to get back into "ultra shape", three years removed from Nolan's 14. 



Texted to me during a difficult training run in June

Fortunately, my ankle started feeling better by the middle of April, which was the latest that I could start training hard in order to be ready for the August 11 start of the High Five. I had ups and downs, but overall, the 54 year old body held up well to the well thought-out training plan (for re-entry to the 100 mile world) that Jennifer had laid out for me. It prioritized measured steady progress, and vertical ascent/descent and time on feet over miles. I also got as much sleep as I could fit in, I do really good on lots of sleep. 

Final training stats: 
May 200 miles, 40'k elevation gain, 45 hours on trail
June 200 miles, 70'k elevation gain, 80 hours on trail
July 200 miles, 70'k elevation gain, 80 hours on trail

Although we tried to share as much of the scouting hikes and runs as possible, it was unavoidable that Jennifer often got stuck driving and hiking up and down gnarly jeep roads in order to crew me during long days, and shuttling from the start to the end of my route for the day.

Crew Stop All Set Up

This is the downside of preparing for and running these events, much of Jennifer's summer is spent supporting it, as opposed to doing what she would prefer, which is being out in the backcountry doing her thing. 

Fortunately, we did get to share a bunch of time training together...

Jennifer with Matterhorn and Wetterhorn Peaks

...in various types of Summer mountain weather...
Mt Antero in June

The Run

The concept is simple: Start in Lake City at 6am on Friday, get to each of the proof points in order as listed on the High Five website and get back to Lake City by 6am Sunday (48 hour time limit). For me, the stats ended up being 96.25 miles with 35,060' of vertical and it took me 46 hours 40 minutes. 23 people started on Saturday and 9 of us finished. 

Purple markers are checkpoints with no crew access.
Black checks are checkpoints where Jennifer will crew.
<Click to enlarge>

I thought about it in three big blocks. Start to Capital City, Capital City to Sherman, Sherman to Finish. 

With Brandt and Dave, the only pacers I've ever had, on the eve of the High Five 100
I'm proud to be associated with these these tough gentlemen.

 

Start to Capital City - Checkpoints 1-6
27.5 Miles; 10,300' Ascent; 10hrs 40min

The Start
I knew this segment would involve a significant amount of climbing through the first 6 checkpoints, which include two 14,000' peaks (14ers), a 13,000' peak (13ers), and a damn near 13,000' peak (12er). The start was super low key, as it was just a small group of us standing in the middle of the street at 6am. It wasn't even the full group of 23, since those who had completed the run in prior years start an hour later for each time they've finished. So there were a few that started 1 or 2 hours after our group did, including my buddy Brandt Ketterer, who finished in 2022. 

A funny thing happened as we ran down Silver Street to the north end of town. I made a right on 8th St, while every other person made a damn left! I was committed to sticking to what I knew, I'd scouted this section with Brandt a few weeks earlier and had my GPS track on my phone, so I knew this way got me to the trails. Downside was that I wondering for an hour or so whether I was really smart and would end up way ahead, or really dumb and far behind. Turns out, I was just a little dumb. I caught up with the folks toward the back about 45 minutes in and was at least relieved to stop wondering about where I was in relation to everyone else. 

Meanwhile, Jennifer started her long journey, as well. After seeing Brandt off at his start at 7:00am, she was headed to meet and crew me at checkpoint #2 - Uncompahgre Trailhead. It's about a 30 minute drive, including on some fairly rough Jeep road, and then a four mile hike up a rougher section of Jeep road carrying all my food and water for resupply. She has and will be navigating much rougher roads on this adventure. 

The steady climb toward Crystal Peak and the steep climb to the summit to checkpoint #1 went smoothly in under 2.5 hrs, as did going off trail cross country and descending to the Jeep road that Jennifer had hiked up to meet me just before 10am, about an hour ahead of my estimated split time. 

Crystal Peak 2 hours in
It always lifts my spirits seeing her and this time she hiked with me for a bit on the trail to Uncompahgre Peak. We caught each other up on our journeys to that point and after 10 minutes, we parted ways, as we both had a lot of distance to cover before we'd see each other again. A couple of minutes after she left, I inexplicably tripped myself right into a small creek, jabbing my left knee and lower quad on rock and ending up butt-down in the water, along with my half-eaten rice cake. I was pretty pissed at myself for that careless blunder for a while, but continued on, trading places with a few other competitors along the way. 

Uncompahgre Peak is the high point of the route at 14,318' and is a beautifully distinctive looking mountain which I hadn't been on top of since 2010 when Jennifer and I climbed all of the Colorado 14ers.

Uncompahgre Peak 4.5 hours in

I summited in just under 5.5 hours elapsed. On the way down, I started running into a few of the fast guys on their way up, who had started an hour or more after I did. One of them was Brandt, so we had a brief chat about how things were going. The other was the eventual winner, Dustin Simoens, who had started two hours after me. Truly amazing, so I cursed him out for being so awesome, and continued to do whenever our paths crossed. Fortunately, he seemed to get my sense of humor. He went on to finish 16 hours...16 F$^@!ng HOURS!!...ahead of me.

This section is one of the most dramatic, as once on top of Uncompahgre, you can see your next couple of checkpoints across an open basin, Matterhorn (13,590') and Wetterhorn (14,021') Peaks. Several of the runners were taking a steep scree field off the side of Uncompahgre, but I hadn't scouted that route, so I took a bit longer on-trail route and a smaller shortcut toward the steep climb up Matterhorn. 

Next - Matterhorn and Wetterhorn Peaks

I began the climb briefly with Dustin, before he left me in the dust. I'm pretty good on climbs, but his pace in this terrain was ridiculously fast! I got to the top around 2 hours after my previous summit and on the way down, I saw Brandt again on my descent, when I was quite off-course in some big, unsteady talus. After getting back to where I should have been, I was off toward Wetterhorn, which is the most technical peak of the route with some tricky route-finding and exhilarating exposure in a few spots. Fortunately, I'd scouted Wetterhorn a few weeks prior and laid down a GPS route that I trusted. It was a fun scramble to the top where I arrived about an hour after Matterhorn. 

San Juans Glory coming off Wetterhorn Summit

Steep, Exposed Scrambling Near the Summit
There's no other 100 miler with terrain like this!

From there, it was back to the trail and then about 3 miles down the jeep road to the Capital City checkpoint, where I'd see Jennifer for a crew stop and pick up Dave Scheibel, who flew all the way in from Seattle to join me for the remaining 70 miles of the adventure. 

10.5 hours in I get to see Jennifer

Dave joins at Mile 27 - Just in time for a river crossing

I'd say I consistently pushed hard, but stayed mostly within my comfort zone during this section. I was especially cautious on the long downhills, not to exhaust my quads. 

One of the Tamer Roads Jennifer Chases Me Around On

 

Capital City to Sherman Townsite - Checkpoints #6-12
53.7 Miles; 21,270' Ascent; 24hrs 23min

This section began with a segment that I knew would be one of the more challenging segments, the 2.5 mile / 3000' bushwhack up to 12,800' Cooper Lake Ridge (checkpiont 7). 

Coming off Cooper Lake Ridge

There's no trail, it's super steep, often loose footing, through tight trees with sharp branches and needles and, as I found out, some aggressive, ground-dwelling yellow jackets. Many F-bombs were dropped when I got stung by about 20 of them.

Cooper Ridge Checkpoint Greeter
Damn, they hurt, but fortunately they did not create an impediment to continuing. It was a relief to get to the ridge and the skeleton guarding the check-in canister, knowing that section was done and it is a very impressive basin with Cooper Lake and the surroundings. The way down to Grouse Gulch is on trail and the way normal people hike in to get to Cooper Lake. After stopping to get water at the lake, we ran into Brandt, who had caught up to us. I couldn't keep up with his downhill speed, so he went on after we shared a bit of trail. 
Day 1 Sunset

We got down to the Jeep road just in time for a gorgeous high mountain sunset, made more impressive by the gathering clouds, foreshadowing the overnight adventure to come. 

By the time we got to the Grizzly Gulch trailhead it was fully dark. It's an active place, as it's the starting point for this route up the final three 14ers on the route - Handies Peak (checkpoint 8) and Readcloud (CP 10) and Sunshine (CP 11) Peaks. We also knew we'd be back here again, since I chose to do an out-and-back to tag Handies, as most people did. A few runners chose to take a slightly longer, but more elegant route up one side of the mountain from American Basin and down the other side into Grouse Gulch and not re-tracing their steps. The 8 mile 3500' round trip took about 4 hours. Along the way, I broke one of my hiking poles and it started blowing and raining as we got closer to the dark summit. Dave, being the awesome pacer he was, gave me his poles and I would keep them, leaving him with none for the next two mountains. We crossed paths with Brandt at the summit, which buoyed my spirits because I thought I was going so slow. It was encouraging to know that I wasn't that far off the pace of Brandt, who is a stud mountain ultra crusher.

Retracing our steps on this out-and-back section and descending into Grizzly Gulch and thankfully, back down to treeline and protection from the wind and some warmer temps, Dave and I passed the time solving world hunger, urban decay and finding my broken hiking pole. 


At about 11:40pm, we rolled back into the Grizzly Gulch trailhead (CP 9) where Jennifer was waiting, along with the other runners' crews. Entering and then leaving this bubble of civilization, campfires and comforts deep in the mountains in the middle of the night is a surreal experience. 

As much as I had put in to get to that place, Jennifer matched. It's many miles (and even more hours) for her to drive between crew points and the route to this one involved driving our Jeep the final 5 miles each way on the notorious shelf road to the trailhead with sheer dropoffs of 100s of feet and often only just wide enough for one vehicle and rugged 4x4-only steep terrain. She also had to drive in and out in the dark and rain just before midnight and then after 2am.

A Not-So-Tame Shelf Road Jennifer Drove
The Darkness on the Left is a Sheer 800' Drop


In the warmth of our Jeep, we chowed down warm food that Jennifer had prepared for us. Some macaroni and cheese and a new concoction of salty goodness that Dave dreamed up...mashed potatoes with Pringles. Yay for salty simple carbs!

Grizzly Gulch Checkpoint and Crew at midnight

Yeah, that was a hit! Soon enough, we were back on the trail, Jennifer hiking with us around midnight in the rain for about 10 minutes up the trail toward Redcloud (14,037') and Sunshine (14,004') Peaks. We had no idea what we were climbing into. 

Jennifer left to get back to the Jeep, break down the camp she'd established for us and drive down the crazy 4WD shelf road at 2am in the rain. Once she got back to our campsite, next was to swap all the gear and supplies from the Jeep (previous checkpoint was not accessible by our truck camper) to our truck camper, and then get over to the Sherman Townsite before we got there. 

She doesn't sleep during these events and takes on a lot of stress worrying about me and making sure every, single detail is thought through. She gives me a huge advantage to be able to complete these things. 

On the mountain, at around 13,000', the rain turned to snow and as we ascended the ridge of Redcloud Peak, the wind was whipping the snow horizontally. Fortunately, these are not technical peaks to climb, but we had very little visibility and even with all of our layers on, we had to keep moving to fend off hypothermia, for more than three hours. We relied almost exclusively on Dave's Garmin watch and the GPS track he had on it for navigation, as I could not afford to take my mitts off to navigate with my phone.

It was nuts! It took us 6 hours to get up and over those two peaks and back down to the road where we would meet up with Jennifer at the Sherman Townsite, where it was still raining and the road was a slippery mud bog. She had assumed that we had a horrible night in the rain. Seeing the shape we were in, she immediately knew that we had experienced more than just rain up on those 14ers. 

Coming into Sherman Aid



Jennifer immediately got Dave and me situated, me in the camper and Dave up front in the cab of the truck, fed, warmed up and into dry clothes. Next up, some serious conversations about continuing on, or not.


John, Dave, Jennifer



Brandt was at the crew access point and came by to discuss whether or not he and we were going to continue in light of the beating we all took overnight up high at 14k (biggest result being a huge loss of energy with the cold and wet, we could never replace all of that lost energy with calories during the race), and the prospects that we'd run into more snow in the early morning hours as we ascended the next climb to Cataract Lake and then on to the summit of Carson Peak (13,662') and running the ridge over to Bent Peak (13,405'). We all decided to go on. This was a point where a good number decided that they'd had enough and dropped. Understandable.


Sherman Townsite to Finish - Checkpoints #12-22
96.25 Miles; 35,060' Ascent; 46hrs 40min

On our 5 mile trek up to Cataract Lake, we crossed paths with a few more runners making their way down after deciding to drop after getting views of the snow-covered ridges and peaks that lay ahead. At gorgeous Cataract Lake, we met up with Clinton Straughen standing in the marshy grasses looking up at the snowy ridge that lay ahead and in a state of indecision about whether he should continue. 

Cataract Lake

Dave and I both encouraged him to come with us on the off-trail shortcut we were taking. Looking in his eyes and talking to him, I had no doubts about his ability to continue, as he looked way fresher than I felt, he was moving really well and we're all in this experience together doing something exceptionally difficult with a non-trivial level of risk, so we look out for each other. I'm really glad he decided to continue, as he finished super strong 2.5 hours ahead of me. 

Carson Peak



It was around this point where I was getting very slow on the steep climbs and had to work through my frustration with that reality. Steep climb up from the CO Trail to the Carson Peak summit checkpoint, then gentle ridge hike over to Bent Peak and down to the Carson Townsite (CP 16), where Jennifer would be waiting to give us aid. The hike down to the Carson Townsite was a bit demoralizing, as it's an out-and-back section. So we knew that every step of the 2 miles and 1000' of lost elevation on this jeep road would have to be retraced to get back to where we'd started in order to continue on along. 

Jennifer was waiting for us at the checkpoint/crew access. She'd hiked miles up the rough Wager Gulch Jeep road with all of our food and water re-supplies, and her own water and food, would crew us, hike back up with us for about a mile and then hike back out on her own. And then she had to reorganize everything and get to the next crew stop well before us. It would be great to do a video journal of her experience crewing me on these things. Incredible!

As Dave and I came into the crew area a little after 1pm, Brandt was just heading out after his extended stay there, caring for trench foot issues after the wet and snowy night prior. Good to see him moving on. We spent about 45 minutes in crew getting refueled, hydrated and re-loaded for the next 15ish mile leg before seeing Jennifer again.



Getting started with the section was the hardest, even with Jennifer hiking up with us for over a mile, giving me love, pep-talk and in general, just looking after me for a few more minutes. I shared that I was feeling embarrassed that I wasn't climbing so well anymore with my tired legs and lungs. Silly, but that's what I was feeling at the time. 

We had to retrace our steps up the Jeep road for 2 miles and 1000' back up to the Continental Divide and then continue climbing another 1000' and another mile to the summit of Coney Point (CP 17).

Coney Point Checkpoint

Those 3 miles took 2 hours. Good news was that there were no more big climbs for a while as we rolled along the Continental Divide to CP 18 at the CO Trail Yurt. I was hoping to run more of this section, but I did the best I could to run a few steps here and there and Dave did a great job of kindly encouraging me to run whenever I could. We eventually got to the Yurt at 6pm, 36 hours in. 

From the Yurt, it was a long 3 miles downhill to the final crew checkpoint at the Camp Trail Trailhead and the lowest point on the route at 9200', other than the start/finish in Lake City. It was a high point, though, as I'd get to see Jennifer again at the final checkpoint where she'd be able to crew me. 


Going into the second night is a tough mental challenge, but Dave and I knew that we had the time to get me to the finish in the 48 hour time limit, even if I was slooow in those final 16 miles. Good thing, because that took some of the stress off my exhausted mind and I was slooow on this, the final and of course, biggest climb of the entire route. The 6 miles and 4200' slog to the summit of Whiley's Peak (CP 20) took a brutal 4 hours in the dark and at the top it was really windy and cold. In the moonless night, on the steep, cold and windy slopes of talus on the last 1000' of vertical to the summit, both in our headlamp bubbles, we were trying to make out what the dancing lights were up on the summit ridge. They were far enough away, that it was hard to get a real bead on what they were or what direction they were moving. My vision isn't the best anyway, since my retina surgery, but Dave shared later that he didn't know what WTF he was seeing either. I'm sure they were just other High Fivers ahead of us, but it was a weird scene for both of us. Maybe we were both hallucinating?

Coming off the summit, I knew we had to stay on the ridge longer to the north than I did when I scouted this section, but in the darkness of the cold and windy night and the fog in my tired brain, I felt that were were way off track and floundering for a long time and I couldn't quite get us righted. Somehow we crossed over the trail that we were trying to get back to and ended up below the trail in a steep gully. We eventually got back on the trail and in the end, Dave didn't think we lost too much time, but to me it felt like a big mess there for a while. There really wasn't any more true off-trail for the remainder of the run, so we cruised and chatted in the dark as we descended the Alpine Gulch trail and through the woods, crisscrossing the stream until we got to the last checkpoint (CP 21) before the finish in Lake City, at the intersection of the East and Middle forks of the Alpine Trail. This section of trail cris-crosses the creek 7 times. Fortunately, we found ways to mostly keep our feet dry, thanks to Dave's ability to find logs crossing the stream at every crossing. Amazing neither of us fell on these balancing acts at this point, exhausted and in the 3am darkness. 

At last we got to the final 3+ mile smooth dirt road section into Lake City, normally easy sailing, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn't run anymore. Every time I tried, my stomach tightened up and I just had to go back to a walk. Making that final left hand turn and entering the park and the finish to the massive adulation of Jennifer, the Race Directors, and a crowd of at least 2 more people at 4:40am was overwhelming. Actually, it was. It's always one of the best feelings imaginable, to stop, to let go, not have to start again, to finish, to exhale, to sit down. 

The Whole Shebang

Sitting in the camp chair, next to Dave, I downed a Gnarly protein shake and I think a Coke and cheered in the lone female finisher, Whiley Hall, 6 minutes after I came in. She started an hour after I did, so she finished in 45:46 vs my 46:40. I was laying down to sleep in my camper 5 minutes after Whiley finished. I was really tired. 


Minutes After We Finished - Exhale

Wrapping Up

After a couple fitful hours of sorta sleep in the camper, we were up and on our way over to Logan and Caitlin's house for breakfast Sunday at 10am. They are a wonderful couple to allow all of us runners and crew to invade their home - period - let alone after managing this multi-day event! It was great to catch up with everyone and yeah, eat a lot of quiche and breakfast pastries! The Rhodes do a great job of representing the town of Lake City, CO. Every time Jennifer and I have been there, the people have been nothing but welcoming and kind. 

Same to You, Lake City 
& San Juan Mountains

Logan asked me at the finish if the High Five lived up to my expectations. Yes, it did and I'm proud to have my name on this page, among an elite group of mountain athletes. That was a very challenging couple of days and nights moving through tough terrain at consistently high altitude with some extreme Rocky Mountain weather and wasps thrown in for good measure. We get to experience a lot of beautiful mountains, but the San Juan Range is a real special place...the size, the volcanic history, the way the mountains hold snow, the colors, the wildness, all of it.

Race Director Logan Rhodes

Endless heartfelt thank you to Dave for sharing the journey with me. It can be difficult finding the right personality that I am comfortable spending many hours with on these endurance adventures. I am often content with silence and value self-reliance. Dave showed up in elite shape and with just the right combination of what I needed, no pressure to talk, gentle prodding and encouragement when I needed it, patience for my complaining and a match for my often off-color attempts at humor. 
Thank you to Brandt for joining me on Elbert 3 Ways and scouting some of the trickier parts of the route with me in July.
So happy to have Brandt and Dave as a members of Team Kick Ass (TKA)!

The Aftermath Debrief Breakfast Feast Meetup

And Jennifer, WE did it again! Thank you for all of the planning, packing, pursuing and pushing that you did for six solid months leading up to the event. I loved getting back into the San Juan's and rediscovering this amazing area with you. It had been a while and we missed it. We had a great summer, but you sacrificed some of your enjoyment in order to hike and run Jeep roads instead of single track and drive around to crew me during training more than I wanted. I appreciate what you did to support me throughout and couldn't have succeeded without all that you did. 

❤TKA❤


Monday, February 8, 2021

Throwback Post: Gaining Mountain Chops in the Adirondacks Circa 2004-2011

For a while now, we've been wanting to put up a post about our early mountain experiences between 2004 and 2011 in the Adirondack Mountains of Upstate New York. Winter is a good time to dream of future adventures and engage in some reflection. So here it is...a look back on a prior chapter in our journey in the mountains.

Before Google decided to give the option to archive old "Google Sites" content, I'd forgotten that we did write-ups of our Adirondack 46-er and 46-er Winter projects. So, for the first time in years, here's the page listing our days on the rugged trails and peaks of the Adirondacks. I'm not sure if all links on the page work. If not, let me know.

Another artifact of those days is the article we submitted to Adirondack Peaks Magazine after we completed the Colorado 14ers in 2010. The text and photos of which are what follows. 

Adirondack Peaks Article: 46ers in the Colorado Rockies 
by John & Jennifer Danese

What started as a week-long trip to Colorado in July 2009 ended up leading us through the most amazing and satisfying experience of our lives. We remember when it all started, the peak-bagging and the pursuit of seemingly far-fetched goals, that is. I saw the book “Exploring the 46 Adirondack High Peaks” while browsing in a local bookstore and mentioned to Jennifer that it would be pretty neat to be able to do that...to become a 46er. It seemed out of reach at the time (late 2005), so we were really just thinking it might be fun to hike a few of them. We did Cascade on one of those perfect bluebird days in May 2006 and were instantly hooked. We were amazed when we learned that people climbed these mountains in winter, but by 2007, we were embarking on our first forays into climbing high peaks in the winter months, experimenting with and collecting the requisite gear and building up our endurance. We learned from others who answered Jennifer’s questions on the internet boards, from people we met on the trails and from experience we accumulated. By 2009, we had completed our all-season and winter rounds of the 46 ADK High Peaks, gaining an immense and satisfying sense of accomplishment and I think relief, that “the list” was completed. It was fun to plan and hike freely for the first time in a while...do whatever we liked best, rather than what we “needed”. But soon, another feeling began creeping in. What’s next? We needed a new goal. We still loved hiking in the ‘Dacks, but what else did we want to do? What was our next adventure? 

Completing the Winter 46 left us feeling very confident in our capabilities as a team. We were especially proud of our decision-making in the mountains. Our minds were wandering to the things that we might like to try in the future. Bigger mountains, bigger trips...we knew we didn’t have technical skills, but we’d come a long way since we did Cascade in May a few years prior. We starting thinking about maybe attempting something like Mt. Rainier, so we started wondering how we would handle higher elevations. We’d never hiked higher than 5344’. I’d been doing some business trips to Denver and sent home pictures of the Front Range at the western edge of Denver. Hmmm, Colorado has a lot of high mountains, maybe we’ll go climb some of them. One thing led to another and in early July 2009, we were headed to Breckenridge, CO for a week’s stay. Breckenridge is a great town with good access to some of the easier 14,000’ peaks of the Front and Sawatch Ranges. The town is at 10,000’ elevation, so you’re always acclimatized and it’s less than 2 hours from Denver airport. Plus, it has some excellent restaurants, which we utilized to the fullest for post-hike feasts! The day after we arrived, we climbed one of the easiest 14ers - Mt. Sherman. The drive in to the trailhead on a rough and bumpy dirt road was an adventure and quite different from back home. Starting off from the car, we both felt some anticipation. How would we do? How would the altitude affect us? Our legs were ready to go at the usual pace, but our lungs told us to slow it down a bit. We were slower and certainly more winded than normal, but we made the summit without any difficulties. One down, 53 more to go, we joked at the summit. We had absolutely no idea that 14 months later, we’d be atop our final Colorado 14er. Over the next five days, we hiked up 8 more 14ers, including Mts. Elbert and Massive, the two highest peaks in Colorado, the Democrat-Cameron-Lincoln-Bross four-pack, Huron and Quandary. All of the routes are non-technical and recommended for anyone who is reasonably fit. 


We were hooked on these mountains. The views were incredible and the experiences exhilarating. The sadness we felt driving out of Breckenridge toward Rt. 70 and the airport left us with no doubt that we would return. By October we were discussing a temporary move to Colorado and in early April 2010, we drove the 2000 miles to Breckenridge with our dogs and a truck full of our stuff, having rented a house for the next 7 months. Our plan was to focus on climbing 14ers and seeing as much of this jaw-droppingly beautiful place as we could cram in. Oh, and maintain our full-time jobs. Jennifer had a plan, as expected. Since we still had a solid 1½ months of winter conditions in the mountains and avalanche danger is a serious concern about which we knew next to nothing, we’d try to figure out which peaks we could safely explore until the avy danger diminished. So, we did some local hikes around Breckenridge, revisited the nearby 14er Quandary a few times, and also took a winter skills day-class with a guide. 


Jennifer acclimatizing in May on the Continental Divide near Breckenridge


On the first weekend in May we started hiking 14ers, or at least trying to. On Mt. Columbia we made it within ¾ of a mile and 1000’ from the top. Concern of thunderstorms and midday warming snow on a steep slope had us turn around. It was disappointing not to reach our goal, but we were very comfortable playing it conservative as the terrain and conditions were all new to us. We were learning as we went and trusting our gut instincts. The next weekend we made it to the summit of Humboldt Peak, a milestone as it was our first 14er this trip. It was still very much winter conditions and we used both snowshoes and crampons. Start times were earlier than back home. A 3:30 am start time for just a regular dayhike (to avoid warm afternoon snow on open slopes and afternoon thunderstorms). And, the terrain was quite different from back home. Many miles and hours above treeline. And the scale of everything is Big. Huge. Impossible to describe. It had a very different feel to it than being back home, but it was wonderfully challenging and exhilarating. 

In mid-May we got turned around a second time on Mt. Columbia for avy concern and it turned out the next day there was a slide on a nearby peak. By Memorial Day weekend, we were finally starting to see signs that non-winter conditions may be approaching. 

Our plan was to get to the hardest peaks during July and August, when we would be solidly acclimatized, fittest and the weather should be best. We did break from the plan early on, though to go for Little Bear Peak the first weekend in June. Little Bear is a peak in the southern Sangre de Cristo Range, which many consider the most dangerous of all the 14ers. Its’ reputation is due not to the difficulty of the climb, but to the high risk of rockfall, which gets funneled down the steep 45 degree gully (called The Bowling Alley or the Hourglass) which leads to the summit. We decided that we wanted to get up Little Bear when there was still snow in the Hourglass so that the chance of rockfall would be lower. It was our biggest challenge to date, starting at 1:30am from our car camp. Such an early start time was chosen because we wanted to get up and down the Hourglass before the snow and ice got soft and the rocks started releasing. 


Ascending the Hourglass on Little Bear


It was hard and scary, and we made good use of our crampons and ice-axe skills on the steep traverse along the ridge and in the notorious gully. As with most challenges, what a great feeling it was to get through it! We felt triumphant (not at the summit, but once we had descended) with our success and like we had made a progression to a next level of accomplishment and experience. A sad note is that about a month later, a young climber lost his life, when he fell in the Bowling Alley. 


Snow continued to be a challenge into mid-June, but we were making steady progress, getting out and climbing 2-3 days each weekend. By the July 4th weekend, we were ready to tackle what we saw as the hardest peak left in our list...Capitol Peak, in the Elks Range, outside of Aspen. Search for “Capitol Peak Knife Edge” on YouTube and you’ll see part of the reason for its reputation. We hiked in to camp at the base of this strikingly beautiful mountain the day prior to our attempt with fellow ADK 46er, Steve Dunbar, and gazed up in awe at the challenge ahead of us until we retired to our tents. 


Capitol Peak from our campsite


The 2.5 mile climb to the summit started at 4:00 am the next day - a glorious, clear July 4th. The climb to the summit took 4 1/2 hours of almost constant intense concentration as it involved a lot of Class 3/Class 4 scrambling over large, often loose talus, and high to extreme exposure, where a fall would certainly be fatal. We thought back to being intimidated by the “cliffs” of Saddleback not so long ago. Capitol was a measuring stick that we used to gauge how we felt about being able to complete the rest of the CO 14ers. We felt that if we could handle this mountain, we could do the rest, at least from a skills perspective. We were continually challenging and pushing ourselves, and at various times one or the other would feel uncertain. We really learned to break these situations into small bits. Setting small milestones/goals that we could reach and then re-assess to see if we felt comfortable moving forward or wanted to change the plan.  

A few weeks later, we went back to the Elks for another of the legendary 14er challenges about which we had been anxious...the Maroon Bells. Maroon and North Maroon Peaks and their companion across the valley, Pyramid Peak are notorious for their crumbly red sedimentary rock, which can give-way on you, or fall on you from above. They are world famous because of their beauty and are easily photographed after a short drive from downtown Aspen. Along with Steve, we car-camped for two days in the parking lot and fresh from our success on Capitol, decided to do the two “Deadly Bells” together on day 1 by climbing Maroon, then traversing over to North Maroon. It’s considered one of the four “Great 14er Traverses” and it did not disappoint. It challenged all of the confidence we’d built up on Capitol and provided us with the best day of climbing we had on our entire adventure. It’s a memory that will last our lives. 

The Maroon Bells

We said to each other many times during and after that day that there was no way we could have been able to do that were it not for the experience we’d gained on previous hikes and climbs. It challenged us physically and mentally and our decision-making dynamics as a team. Toward the end of the summer season, tragically, another climber lost his life, when he was hit by rockfall, attempting the traverse. These events were frightening to hear about and major eye-openers for us. A total of 10 climbers were killed on the same mountains we climbed that season. 
Next we learned something else new. Colorado has a “monsoon season” and this year it lasted from about the last week in July through August. During this time, the weather patterns are very unstable as moisture from the Gulf of California gets pushed over the Southwest and dumps when it hits the Rockies. The instability theme carried from the weather patterns to the ground conditions, where the rain water caused the ground to soften and already loose and crumbling mountainsides to become even more dangerous. Several more people were killed in rockfall during this time. This weather pattern wreaked havoc with our plans to get the most difficult and dangerous peaks completed before September when the chance of snow would begin to loom. We spent more time than usual during this time checking weather throughout the state, trying to avoid bad weather and the loosest of terrain and maintaining multiple alternate plans each week. We also were burdened with significant doubts that we would be able to achieve our goal, since we were turned back on summit attempts on more than one occasion, putting us behind our planned schedule. We took what the weather gave us and climbed some of the easier and nearby peaks of the Front and Sawatch Ranges (which we had been saving for exactly this type of weather delay), before heading out at the end of August for our last set of the hardest peaks. 
The Wilson Group is comprised of El Diente Peak, Mt. Wilson and Wilson Peak, which is famously depicted on Coors Light cans. They are the westernmost 14ers in the San Juan Range, just outside of Telluride and not too far from the Utah border. It took us about 6 hours to drive to the trailhead in heavy rain and thunderstorms the night before our attempt. We had multiple options for our climb day. It’s most common to do them in two or three days, but there is also a single day route. If we got the right weather, we knew we could do the single day route. It’s a big day, but we can do long days just as long we’re not trying to outrun lightning! The key was the weather, the forecast was for a good day and if that held by what we saw in the sky, we would go for all 3 in one day. We started at 3:30 am on a cold and damp morning and summited our first peak of the day, El Diente, at 8:30 am. The weather was looking fine so we made the decision to continue along to the next peak. To get to Mt. Wilson we would complete our 2nd of the 4 Great Traverses. It was a fun route with some nice Class 4 scrambling. On top of Mt. Wilson, we again assessed weather and decided that we were going to attempt to get the three-pack in a single day. The hike covered 19 miles and 6900’ feet of ascent in 17 hours. We knew it would be hard, but the drive and approach are long and we didn’t want to risk having to come back out here for another trip in a week or two. Completing the Wilson Group felt like a huge weight had been lifted and we then knew that we were going to complete our quest to climb all 58 of the mountains we had set out to. We were at 52 with only a half a dozen easy peaks to go and it wasn’t even September yet. Even if snow came, we’d be able to do the rest! 
On September 4, we finally stood atop Mt. Columbia (the peak we had turned around on twice in May!) on a beautiful day and celebrated all that we’d done, learned and experienced together in the mountains. We had done it! It was one of the best days of both of our lives. The adventure, the experiences, the sights are truly priceless. For anyone who’s enjoyed the Adirondacks and has climbed some of the 46ers, I’d recommend getting out to Colorado and doing at least a 14er or two. The scenery is so spectacular, I haven’t even tried describing it here, since I just don’t have the skills. Be cautious, plan, ask questions (www.14ers.com is a great resource with active and helpful forums), be respectful of the dangers, but don’t be intimidated that you can’t do it physically. There are plenty of options that are straight-forward walk-ups with outstanding trails. Getting up Mt. Marcy is harder than some of them.
Recommended reading: Halfway to Heaven: My White-knuckled -- and Knuckleheaded Quest for Rocky Mountain High” by Mark Obmascik is fun and informative. “Colorado’s Fourteeners: From Hikes to Climbs” by Jerry Roach is the 14ers bible, full of trailhead and route info, as well as a healthy dose of Roach’isms which are well known in the Colorado 14er community.