Conundrum Peak, Castle Peak and Mount of the Holy Cross, June 23-25

Conundrum Peak

El: 14,060'

Route:  Conundrum Couloir to Summit
Trailhead: Castle Creek, 11,160'

Castle Peak
El: 14,265'
Route: Northwest Ridge

Trailhead: Castle Creek, 11,160'

Mount of the Holy Cross
El: 14,005'
Route: Angelica Couloir
Trailhead: Halfmoon Campground, 10,320'

Net Evelvation Gain over three days: 8,970 feet
Distance: approx. 18 miles over three days.

It may have been almost five years since I climbed my last Colorado 14er, but it is a passion of mine not forgotten. I'm whittling away at the list one peak at a time, with the goal of climbing each one. Living hundreds of miles to the south in New Mexico makes it a tedious goal, as trips to Colorado are sporadic, and time is limited, but this is one goal I'm convinced I'll achieve by some unknown date in the future.

I'm excited to finally have reports for three new 14er peak climbs completed in just a three day span, on June 23-25, 2016! For each of them I was able to take advantage of early summer snow pack and ascend them in my favorite way, with mountaineering boots and crampons on my feet, ice ax in my hand, helmet on my head, and headlamp illuminating the path in the darkness of early morning, while snow is solid and grippy. The rest of this entry will be about these three peaks, unofficial 14er Conundrum (14,060'), Castle Peak (14,265') and Mount of the Holy Cross (14,005')

I had a fairly ambitious itinerary planned in order to take advantage of the little time away. My small family, including, my partner, Alex and our wonderful dog, Cheyenne, were both a little sad to see me leaving!

The morning of Day One, June 23 was spent driving to Aspen, Colorado, where I continued on the Castle Creek Road and passed the small town of Ashford in the Elk Mountains. Eventually, the pavement ended and a rough 4WD took its place, which I followed to my starting point in the Land Rover. It is actually one of the highest roads on a Colorado 14er, topping out at an incredible 12,840', slightly beyond the abandoned Montezuma mine. The road is too rough for most vehicles past 11,160', which is the point at which I parked the car, just after a narrow wooden bridge crossing over Castle Creek. The road up to this point was exciting enough, especially with the previous creek crossing, which had no bridge for vehicles, and required fording the high water of the creek fed by ample early summer snow melt.

Hiking Along Castle Creek Road towards my Castle and Conundrum Basecamp

I started hiking at 3:06 PM, and arrived at the end of the road at 4:45 PM, stopping in between for just a ten minute break. The sunny weather deteriorated and the wind picked up. Thunderclouds and rain began to threaten. I had wanted to continue further, but I decided to camp at a flat, rocky bench with an easy-to-access water supply, and wait out the weather. It ended up being a good decision, because it turned out that I'd be on continuous snow the next morning for my snow climb up Conundrum Peak, which really wasn't too far away by now. The storm sounded worse than it was, and the evening was capped off by an incredible rainbow extending between Malamute Peak and the slopes of Castle Peak.

Stunning rainbow over Malamute Peak as seen from my campsite at 12,820'

Day Two, June 24. This was about to be a very, very long day, which started long before sunrise. The most challenging thing about attempting a snow climb is the unusual schedule. After gearing up for my climb, I started under the moonlight at about 2:50 AM. I had been stirring for most of the night in anticipation, so I was actually quite antsy to get moving at this time. The early start accomplishes two things: you take advantage of snow being firm, which is best for cramponing, and the second is the incredible opportunity to watch the sunrise mid-climb, or if you are lucky, on the summit, itself!

I made my ascent of Conundrum via the exciting Conundrum Couloir which started at 13,500' and rose over 450 feet. The snow was steep (nearly 45 degrees at the top), but it was wonderfully consolidated. My crampons gripped the snow well and I used the self-belay technique with my ice ax for added security. Still, a fall here would be scary, which became evident when my Nalgene water bottle slipped out of my pack and careened hundreds of feet down to the bottom of the couloir in mere seconds. Many trip reports on Conundrum spoke of a gnarly cornice at the top, but it had melted down enough at this point that I was able to bypass any unstable, overhanging snow by going to the right.

Funny enough, I quickly understood the reasoning behind the name of the peak while on or near the summit. At the top of the couloir were two ridge points (one to the left and one to the right). I climbed up to the right point first, thinking it was the highest, which I reached at 4:40 AM, only to look at the other summit and believe it was higher. I reached the other point at 5:11, where I ended up taking my traditional summit selfie, only to realize the map indicated I was on the wrong summit and I was right in the first place, but as it isn't marked correctly on all maps, I'm STILL not entirely sure! Quite the conundrum. At least I stood at the top of both, so I was at the “true summit” at one point, whether the photo proves it correctly or not. Regardless I took my time here to enjoy the sky filling with pink prior to sunrise.

My Conundrum Peak Summit Selfie, somewhere on the top (not sure if it was the true summit or not!)

Hints of pink light begin to fill the sky over Castle Peak, as viewed from Conundrum Peak

From here, I descended Conundrum Peak's South Ridge and ascended Castle Peak via its Northwest Ridge. On the ridge top there was very little snow to contend with, and crampons were stowed away for safekeeping. I arrived at the summit of Castle Peak at 6:25. The views of the rising sun over Malamute Peak and the lake in the snow-filled basing between Castle and Conundrum Peak was breathtaking!

I recently start learning Gimp, and I combined several exposures into this shot to create an image that I felt really showcased the beauty of the sunrise between Castle and Conundrum.

I stayed at the summit of Castle Peak for nearly 20 minutes, until I was satisfied with my selfies and scenic photos! I descended Castle's Northeast ridge trail, which had enjoyable, gentle switchbacks leading to the lake, which I reached at 7:30 AM. It was on this stretch that I met the only other people I would see on this trip, a young couple, who were ascending the Northeast ridge route. The basin was small enough, it didn't take long to relocate my missing water bottle which was perched in the edge of the lake. The water was quite chilled and was a refreshing thing to return to. I snapped some more photos before arriving back to camp at 7:50 AM, five hours to the minute from my departure time. By 8:35 AM I had broken down camp, repacked my backpack, and started back on foot down the Castle Creek Road. I was to the car by 9:20 AM. A lot had already happened, but the day was still young!

The mandatory Castle Peak selfie!

On the descent of the Northeast ridge of Castle Peak, looking back towards the small lake below Conundrum Peak.  Conundrum Couloir is the inset notch above the lake between the two ridge points that make up the peak.  What a fine snow climb it was!

Wildflowers with Castle Peak and Moon in the background.

Last look at Conundrum Couloir from the retrieval spot of my missing water bottle at the edge of the lake

I started driving back down the rough road when the low coolant level warning went on. “Oh, no” I thought, “I must have hit a damaging rock on the way up,” even though I had been so careful. When I stopped to check it, there was NO coolant in the reservoir at all. With a 15 mile drive back to Aspen and no cell reception, I was a little anxious, to say the least, and not too thrilled that my plan to head to Holy Cross would be delayed, at best.

I made an unexpected detour to Aspen Total Automotive, where the mechanics were very willing to check out the damage even without an appointment. It turned out the culprit for my coolant leak was likely a very BIG rodent- a marmot, perhaps, who had a taste for heater hoses. The Land Rover's heater hose was completely chewed through. The mechanic fixed it with a hose camp and coupler, and within an hour or two I was able to start the next adventure, albeit a little later than expected.

I drove out of Aspen to the northern portion of the Sawatch range near Vail. I traveled South past the town of Minturn on highway 24, before driving up the uneven Tigwon Road for about 8 miles to the West, where I parked at Halfmoon Trailhead, the most common starting point for climbs on Mount of the Holy Cross, a peak which gets its name for a majestic couloir on its east face that is intersected by a snow ledge two thirds up before the summit, giving it the appearance of a cross. Considering its unique appearance, it is one of the more famous of the Colorado 14er's and is an extremely popular summer climb

It turned out that my adventure was really just beginning at this point. In retrospect, I'd prefer attempting the harder peak on my itinerary first, but in this case, my ascents of Castle and Conundrum peaks were really just a warm up for Mt. Of the Holy Cross, which would be a much bigger challenge for me. Seeking an alternative to the well-worn standard North Slopes route, I sought out a challenging, seldom-climbed snow route for my ascent, Angelica Colouir. Most snow climbers will seek out the longer, more committing “cross couloir” on the East Face.

Due to all the driving time, delays, and my low energy level, I didn't get started from Halfmoon Trailhead until 5:12 PM. The challenge of this peak was immediately obvious, as I ascended from 10,320' to Halfmoon Pass at 11,640' in just 1.7 miles. In the next 1.4 miles, I lost 975 feet of the hard-earned elevation when the trail descended to the Cross Creek campground. The pass contributed to the difficulty level of this hike, considering the near 1000 feet would have to be regained on the way out.  However, rewarding views of Mt of the Holy Cross, and my objective climb, Angelica Colouir, made up for the added effort.

My first view of Mt. of the Holy Cross.  The large snow field in the notch to the right of the peak would be the next day's objective, Angelica Colouir.

I arrived at the Cross Creek campground at 7:00PM, which consists of 10 pre-designated camping sites. I still had plenty of of daylight to set up camp at site #5, and enough time to scout out the start of the faint climber's trail which would lead on a steep ascent to the south for the next day's snow climb. The rugged nature of Mt. Of the Holy Cross is often underestimated, and it took some time to find the correct route, which began between campsites #3 and #4 and just to the west of a small beaver pond. A party of two, Rich and Mike had the goal of climbing the cross colouir the next day. The two of them had significant trouble scouting out the trail, and Mike had gone off on his own for hours to search.  Rich became worried and assumed him to be lost.  Loud calls of "Mike!" were met with no answer.  He was concerned enough when Mike wasn't back by nightfall, that he called search and rescue, who would deploy the next morning to look for him. He was at neighboring campsite, #4, I believe I faintly heard Mike returning later that night and talking to Rich.  I assumed all ended well, because there was no sign of SAR the next day. The best advice I can offer anyone climbing Mt of the Holy Cross via Cross Couloir or Angelica Couloir, or any of the other non-standard routes is to budget extra time for the route-finding. There is enough traffic, especially on weekends, that it is easy to find another climber to partner up with. And route-finding is always easier with an additional brain set to the task. Another climber, by the name of Travis, arrived at campsite #6 and I was happy to run into him the next morning.

Day Three, June 24. After another restless sleep, I was awake at 4:15AM and left camp at 4:44AM, a much later start than the day before, and, in retrospect, too late a start for today. I ran in to Travis shortly after 5:00 AM on the climbers trail I discovered the night before, and for the first hour or two of our ascents we stuck together. His objective would be the Cross Couloir farther to the south. Above treeline the trail became practically non-existent and we split at this point and I headed towards the northeast-facing rock-filled gully below Angelica Couloir, while he headed to a high lake called the Bowl of Tears, below the Cross Colouir. From what I had heard, my chosen route was known to be more direct, and had fewer objective challenges than the more famous Cross Couloir. Given my energy level after completing a climb just the morning before, I felt this was a better alternative. I soon discovered that this did not mean in any way that it would be easy!

The ascent up some rocky gullies towards the start of Angelica Couloir

The challenging route finding resulted in me not starting the snow climb until 7:54 AM. By comparison, I would have already been back at my base camp the morning before! The snow was soft enough that crampons were unnecessary, but kick stepping was a required technique on the near 1200 vertical feet I was about to ascend on a very steep slope. The couloir split at about 12,900' and I took the southern branch up the final 800' to the ridge crest, where I picked up the North Ridge Trail after finishing on a couple hundred feet of unpleasant rock debris. The sun was beaming down the whole time, I was sweaty, and I was tired. The entire couloir ascent took until 10:30 AM, provided no reliable spot to take a break,  no place to retreat in the shade, and the snow was getting increasingly soft.  All the factors made me feel very sluggish compared to my typical pace, which is about 1000' per hour. All I can say is that this is a serious undertaking. Leave early. Leave early.  I'd have enjoyed myself much more without the hot sun and if I could have used my crampons on firmer snow.

Finally at the start of the 2.5 hour snow climb ahead.  I was pushing 8:00 AM at this point, a late start to be on snow in late June.

I took very few photos from within the Colouir.  At 45 degrees, and surrounded by potential rockfall zones I wanted to limit my time in there as much as possible.  This photo shows where the couloir split.  Over another 800 vertical feet were still ahead.

At 10:50 AM I finally reached the summit of Mt of the Holy Cross, and found Travis who had already completed the Cross Couloir. The route-finding challenges were no easier for him, and his summit climb didn't begin until 9:00 AM. One added plus to the route he picked is that the snow was continuous the the summit, whereas I had to finish with climbing on talus and boulder-hopping for the last 300 vertical feet along the main route. I concluded that Angelica Colouir was in no way more direct, but it could have been a misconception based on my less-than-stellar energy level.  Still, I was thankful to have not gone to the Cross Couloir.

From the notch at the top of Angelica Couloir.  After 2.5 hours on a 45 degree slope it felt amazing to sit down on some flat ground.

My Mt. of the Holy Cross Summit Shot.  Thank you Travis!

I took quite some time to enjoy the incredible views from the summit, especially since the weather was still beautiful. There was some cloud build up, but nothing to worry about. I descended 3,700 feet over three miles back down to camp via the North Ridge Route, which was well marked with large cairns and a trail constructed beautifully by the Colorado 14er Initiative, which even had large rocks laid out to form stairs in the steep areas. There were no hidden challenges here other than the rapid descent.

This photo really displays the steepness and ambitiousness of the Angelica Couloir climb.  It is the long middle couloir, angling slightly to the right.

I took a moment for a little scenic photography along the North Ridge Trail.  the weather was still magnificent.

I arrived back to campsite #5 at 1:35 PM, where I spent the next three hours eating, re-hydrating and napping before repacking my bag and heading out of camp by 4:30 PM. The 975 foot hike back up to Halfmoon Pass loomed ahead. I reached the top of the pass by 5:23 PM and was back at the car by 6:10PM. I was thankful that no rodents had made lunch out the the Land Rover this time.

I drove back to Vail, where I had dinner at Qdoba. I found an area to park the car that night, where I reclined in the passenger seat and slept for a few hours before waking up at 4:00 AM on June 26 to drive back to Santa Fe. I treated myself to a soak at the Princeton Hot Springs, which I visited for the first time nine years ago, which was a much-needed way to rejuvenate myself before going home.

The most poignant aspect of any wilderness trip like this one is the perspective you can bring back with you. I'd like to conclude this entry with thoughts I wrote down shortly after my return to Santa Fe.

Sometimes in life you may stumble off the well-worn path for minutes, hours, days, weeks or even years, which can be agonizing when you encounter many obstacles, including the dead ends and moments of failure. But this doesn't mean you can't ever return to the path you were on, or even discover new paths. Surely life would be easier if you'd never lost your path, but imagine all the places you never would have gone, all the people you never would have met, and all the things you never would have done had you not gone astray. In fact, the repeated act of losing the path was the very thing you had to do to get where you are now. Be prepared to accept those times in the future when you stumble off the path and embrace those times of uncertainty and hardship, and know that through this process great discoveries will be made.