Snowmass Mountain, May 21, 2012

Snowmass Mountain

El: 14,092'

Route:  Snowmass Creek approach, east slopes route to summit

Trailhead: Maroon Snowmass

Elevation Gain: 5,800'

Round Trip mileage: 23 miles


After climbing a handful of 14er's that were easy to access, each being no more than a day-hike, and requiring very little technical challenge, I decided it was time to push my limit again.  Feeling thoroughly
warmed up after my previous string of six summits, I fixed my attention to Snowmass Mountain in the Elk's range, which would be a mileage-intense backpacking trip, including an 17 mile round-trip approach and 5 mile roundtrip summit route.  Of all the peaks I've climbed, Snowmass Mountain provided a diverse number of challenges, ranging from a long backpack hike, significant elevation gain, deep post-holing in snow, steep snow-climbing, exposed ridge scrambling and a rather unpleasant scree descent, making it among my most celebrated Colorado summits, in good company with Kit Carson Peak/Challenger Point from last year.  There were moments of the climb that even felt reminiscent of Mount Hood and Mount Rainier, especially considering the ungodly hour at which I had to begin my summit bid, and the donning of crampons, helmet, head lamp and iceaxe.

The long approach hike began at the Maroon Snowmass Trailhead at about 3:30 PM along Snowmass Creek, and entered a stunning valley, which cuts southward through the Elk's range.  For those seeking a less-extreme adventure, this trail affords a great day-trip.  The route takes you along roaring white-water of Snowmass Creek, through glistening aspen groves, and across reflective beaver ponds.

Entering the wilderness boundary.  A reminder that you are going to a beautiful place.

From a view point, snow-clad peaks of the Elk's come in to view

Beaver' are actually true artisans, creating this beautiful reflective pool for my enjoyment.

Crossing over a beaver pond to regain the trail on the other side

 The ponds would be a great turnaround point for day-hikers, as the difficulty increased from here.  In several switchbacks, the trail made a hearty accent towards Snowmass lake, and the post-holing fun began.  The trail, obviously not as well maintained from here, required several scampers over fallen trees.  Overall, the difficulty was moderate, but after 7 miles of hiking with a heavy pack for the first time this summer, the last push to the lake was not enjoyable.  My instinct in bringing snowshoes paid off within the last half mile of the lake where the post-holing became a pretty consistent occurrence.  It was near here that I discovered I was not alone, and met a very friendly couple all the way from New Brunswick: Russel and Nicole, slowly making their way through the snow slog.  I was surprised they had heard of Snowmass Mountain, but they obviously did their research, and planned a trip which would take them to one of Colorado's most incredible mountains.  Once I reached the lake, along with my new friends, the tribulations of the afternoon quickly washed away as we were greeted with a stunning alpine setting at the edge of Snowmass Lake.  Still light at 8:00 PM, the first order of business was to photograph the scene.  Choosing camaraderie with fellow hikers over solitude, we pitch our tents close to one another and spend the evening regaling one another on our adventures as we set up our tents and eat our dinners.  Before bed, we discuss our differing ideas on our route choices to the peak.  At about 10 PM we are all in bed and Alarms are set for about 3 AM.

Ah, yes!  How magical it is to be in the one place you most want to be at this moment!  Snowmass Lake.

Thank you Russel for the photograph.

The infamous scree-field at the east end of the lake.  I opt to take the continuous snow chute on the left of the scree-slopes.  It looks quite intimidating from here.  Russel and Nicole opt to stay on the rock.

There is never anything fun about waking up while it is still dark and feeling groggy from lack of sleep, to go climb a mountain in the cold.  It is something that must be done out of necessity.  But trading sleep deprivation and cold temperatures over a daytime post-holing nightmare and potentially dangerous wet snow slides is always the wiser choice.  The beginning of the summit morning was arduous and madenning!  At 3:30AM, I was the first to leave camp, and I made my way to the first obstacle, the stream crossing, a mere 15 yards or so from camp.  Still tired and fumbling around, I didn't maintain balance on a log, and splashed in to the water about knee deep, completely soaking my boots!  I returned to camp to switch in to drier socks, but the damage was already done.  I would spend my whole day with wet feet, argh!  After my false start, things didn't get any easier as I had to traverse along a snowbank on the south side of the lake, it's angle constantly wanting to pull me in to the water.  The only thought in my head was "why am I doing this?"

My morale improved as the sky lightened and I started to make out the silhouettes of the peaks, finally getting a visual reference beyond the scope of my head lamp.  I made my way to the snow chute I was eye-ing the evening before, relieved to discover it wasn't nearly as steep as I thought and it ended up being a great alternative over the standard route up the scree.  The rising sun coincided nicely with me rising to the toe of the namesake snowfield on the east face of Snowmass mountain, which indeed is absolutely massive!  From here the snow climb relented in steepness and became very pleasant on the solid snow of early morning and my crampons purchased wonderfully.  This was the most relaxing, meditative section of the whole trip, where I fell in to my groove and pacing.  Gazing in to the morning alpenglow, the negative thoughts of that morning quickly washed away.

Nearing the edge of the "snowmass", overlooking the lake.

Alpenglow on Snowmass Mountain (right)

The sun arrives to warm my day.

The steep face of Snowmass Peak (not to be confused with Snowmass Mountain) seen to my left.

Snowmass Mountain, however, still had some tests in store for me.  Closer to the ridge, the slope angle steepened once again and the snow, having been in direct sunlight for a couple hours, was quickly deteriorating into a slushy mess.  I decided to follow the snow nearer to the peak summit rather than heading out of it sooner, south of the peak and along the ridge.  I reached my crux, a 6-7 foot tall snow cornice which I stabbed with my ice axe.  After a couple committing steps I popped out on top of the ridge, to be greeted with an outstanding view of the majestic Elk's Range, which came with the price of significant ridge exposure.  From here I removed my crampons, set down the iceaxe and proceed north up a class 3 scramble to the ridge summit, arriving at 7:56 AM.  I took my usual set of photos, and, after spending no more than about 15 minutes on the summit, I made a very slow, meticulous down climb off the summit, regathered my gear and traversed along the ridge to a snow ramp that made for an easier snow descent.

So close to the ridge now!  The cornice on the left side is my final crux move.

Another view of the cornice, adorned with icicles.  Yes, it was quite steep!

BAM!  Now on top of the ridge the view comes on forcefully

Sitting below the summit rock.  I had to set a self-time for this.  10 seconds wasn't enough to climb the rock. :(

View of "North Snowmass".  On a day with better snow stability I would have climbed this, too.

Before 9:00 AM the snow up top was already trash and I was quickly post-holing on this steep slope.  I also became aware of a new hazard, hidden rocks underneath the snow, which absorbed warmth from the sun, creating a void in the snow.  I dropped in chest-deep at one point.  While still soft, the snow gradually improved as I climbed further down, and plunge-stepping most of the way, travel started to become much more efficient.  I spent the whole morning wondering about the progress of Russel and Nicole and I finally see them arrive on the snowfield not long before 9:00AM.  Their choice to climb the scree field must have cost them some time.  They summed it up in one word: "miserable".  After a few minutes involving a couple sitting glissades and more plunge stepping, I quickly reach them.  I quickly fill them in on the adventure thus far, and report on the snow conditions.  They make the decision to continue on until the post-holing became too great, an inevitability, I told them.

I made it back down the snowfield in what seemed like no time.  Not wanting to descend the chute I climbed up. I headed down the scree-filled gully, intermixed with snow, back to the lake.  There wasn't much to say about it, other than it's unpleasant nature, already mentioned.  It felt warm, and comfortable at the east shore of the lake and I took some time to chow down on some salty and sweet snacks before I made that awful traverse along the lake again, involving more post-holing, of course.

I hated this snow bank along the lake, but it was the only way to and from camp!  I keep my iceaxe in hand the hole time.  While a slide here was of low consequence, a slide in to the recently thawed lake would have been extremely unpleasant.

Panoramic view of the lake.  Snowmass mountain crowns the large snowfield on the left. 

Back at camp at 11:00 AM, I ripped my boots, wet socks, and gators off as quickly as possible and listened to my feet sing "Hallelujah!"  I assembled my gear to dry, and laid out in the sun to thaw out. I fell asleep in my tent for a couple hours.  After growing restless, I unziped the fly and clambered out, just as Russell and Nicole are returning.  The report: they turned around not far below the ridge as soon as the post-holing reached the chest-high level.  And their verdict?  "We'll be back again!"

We chatted for awhile, ate more food, rested our feet, and I soon started packing up all my belongings to make the trip back down, turning a long day in to an extremely long day.  I start walking out at 3:30 PM and arrive back at the car around 7:00 PM.  I traded out my now very uncomfortable leather boots for flip flops and drove to the Glenwood Springs Hostel, my crash pad for the night.  Would I go climb Snowmass Mountain tomorrow?  No.  But someday will it warrant a second trip? Absolutely!

The car!  I'm done!

Oh, and let's not forget our honorary guest appearance by my friend Gilbert!  Yes, I habitually give names to marmots while hiking.  If you don't like it, well, I guess you shouldn't be hiking with me.