I didn’t know much about Mt. Yale winter climb; it was without question the least researched 14er to date for me. While I had done overkill research for most peaks, I really decided to do this peak last night, realizing I was just down the road from the trailhead and the road was paved and plowed the whole way. After getting stuck for nearly 24 hours on the road to Mt. Sherman, I was committed to either purchasing new tires or sticking to the tamer trailheads for now. I figured the tire stores would be closed for the weekend so figured I’d attempt a three summits in three days with Sherman yesterday, Yale today, and La Plata tomorrow. Continue reading Mt. Yale winter summit
Bo rolled up for our La Plata Peak winter attempt a little after 9am. It was a warm morning by Colorado 14er standards. At just under 10,000 feet, it was nearly 20 degrees. We put our boots on, layered up to get ready for the climb and before we even started hiking were stripping back down. In just a base layer thin polyester t-shirt, I was sweating within the first mile of the climb. The wind was tame below treeline and the clouds were promisingly sparse. I knew it was supposed to snow, but hoped it would hold off until later in the afternoon so we could get the beautiful summit views off La Plata Peak that I had heard so much about.
I made a short video of a pretty crazy day I had up on Mts. Belford, Oxford, and Missouri. It was a pretty big day attempting a triple summit with winds gusting up to 60 and wind chills down to 30 below. Started at 9am and got back to my car at 7pm, contending with blasting snow for the last few miles out. Check out the full write up on the day here: http://graysoncobb.com/belford-oxford-missouri/
What do you do when you find yourself on the pinnacle of one of the highest mountains in North America alone after sunset with windchills down to 40 below? From personal experience, you get down as quickly as you can. Which for me meant sliding on my ass down a 40 degree snow filled couloir that I had just ascended.
I’m driving toward the Missouri Gulch trailhead, 8 miles off the main highway and even further from the nearest sign of life. There are thousand acre ranches on either side but they look as lifeless as the sand brown grasses scattered amongst the dense snowpack. It’s well into the night and my my visibility is limited to the narrow beam of light my car spits out in front. The moon is a thumbnail on the horizon, with clouds occasionally hiding it from view. The road is packed dirt with occasional keep-you-awake patches of ice and snow scattered about. I’m acting like I’m in a hurry but really I have nowhere I need to be other than prepping for the big day tomorrow and then making a pitiful effort at sleep before an early rise. Continue reading Missouri Gulch Trailhead
A few months ago, three weeks into my attempt on the Appalachian Trail record, I met up with a lifelong friend and rival in high school track, Bo Peaseley. We had been texting over the previous few days, trying to coordinate a meet up. He was thru-hiking north and I was heading south. I arrived at the shelter late at night and thought he might be headed my way. A few minutes later he rolled in and we caught up for a few minutes before hitting the sack.
So when I got a text from Bo saying he was moving out to Denver and he wanted to climb some 14ers I thought it fitting that despite living in the same city back on the east coast that we run into each other in rural nowhere once again. We talked about climbing Bierstadt, but considered, if we were feeling up for it, the Bierstadt, Sawtooth, Evans combo which included two 14ers and a wicked ridgeline traverse along narrow ledges to connect the two. Continue reading Bierstadt, Sawtooth, Evans
Here is a short video of my winter climb of Mt. Democrat. If I had to describe the ascent with just a few words I would say slow, grueling, cold, windy, lonely, and very, very white. In white out conditions I managed to tackle the three 14ers along that route. I began my climb at 8am and finished by 3:30. If you’d like to read more about the trip, a full write up can be found here: http://graysoncobb.com/mt-democrat-cameron-lincoln-bross/
Yesterday morning I started working my way up to the quadfecta of Mt. Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln, Bross. Cameron isn’t technically considered it’s own mountain because it lies on the slopes of Lincoln but it is still a 14er peak. Because of the brutal winter temps and snow the past couple weeks the road up to the summer trailhead at Kite Lake was closed about 3 miles down the road at an old abandoned mining hub called Paris Mill. A few days earlier I had tried to navigate my way up to Kite Lake with my city slick tires and was stuck within a half mile. So the past couple days I had settled for a start at Paris Mill and accepted the easy 3 miles out and 3 miles back of road walking. Continue reading Mt. Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln, Bross
It’s Christmas day and I’m in Colorado living in my car. I’m out here on my own accord. I want adventure, I crave adventure, so I came out to these sub zero temps to climb some mountains, do some snowboarding, and actually have a white Christmas instead of the warm drizzle back on the East coast. But I’m in Starbucks in Breckenridge now and I miss my family and miss my home.
This morning I began an ascent of Quandary Peak just south of Breckenridge. It’s one of the 52 Colorado 14ers and is decidedly the easiest winter route. With a long gradual, broad east ridge it allows the hiker to stay out of avalanche terrain for the duration of the climb with no pitches greater than maybe 30 percent. Continue reading Rescue on Quandary Peak
I’m lying in the bed of a pickup truck. I’m lying on my neoair, or as my hiking partner, Scott, called it while acknowledging its limitations, a yellow balloon. He had popped his while laying on granite shards at the base of one of yosemite’s large cliffs. And it is of such a strikingly un-outdoorsy shade of yellow that I claimed the Thermarest fabric supplier must have had a sale. When his sleeping pad had popped a week earlier, he wasn’t even mad. It had been a long day and it was almost expected that something else might happen. The worst face of Murphy’s law. Continue reading Euphoria: Thru-hiking the John Muir Trail