Climbing Mt Sneffels: 14150'

 

Climbing a mountain has been on my bucket list for a while, but the experience of climbing Mt Sneffels was more than I could've imagined. It was long, exhausting, exciting, and at times, terrifying. The peak lies only 4.5 miles north of Telluride, but the San Sophia Ridge blocks the way. So, we had to drive an hour to the trailhead in Ouray.

From the trailhead, the climb was around 6 miles round trip and over 2000 vertical feet. It started out like a normal hike, but after about 1.5 miles it got steeper and rockier. Soon there was no trail. I picked my own way up the scree field. In some spots there were big rocks lodged in the earth to hang on to. In other spots there was only loose gravel. My biggest fear was kicking a rock loose and having it hit someone below me, or getting hit myself by a rock from above. Once on top of the ridge we turned south and climbed up another scree field in a narrow chute.

It's strange seeing snow in the middle of August, but it was nice and cool at this altitude. At the top of the chute, we then climbed through a notch in the solid rock to get to the final approach to the peak. That might've been the scariest part. Falling there might not have meant certain death, but the chance was pretty high, if not from the fall itself, then from injuries and exposure while waiting to be rescued. After that it was a short, simple climb to the top. The view was spectacular - countless mountain ranges for seemingly endless miles to the north, east, and south. Blue alpine lakes in the valley to the south, and desert to the west. We could even see the Telluride ski area and the backside of San Sophia Ridge. It was definitely worth it, but we were only halfway through the journey. The climb down wasn't quite as demanding, but it was more difficult to tell which rocks were stable.

 

Oh yea, Lucy climbed it too! For the most part she did better than me. I had to help her up a few big rocks, and navigating the notch with her was a little tricky. Sometimes small dogs are better in the outdoors. During the climb I thought this would be my first and last one, but I'm thinking I may do another. The adrenaline, the view, and the sense of danger is addicting. This is why I came to Colorado, to get out of my comfort zone.

Valles Caldera PyroClassic

Last Sunday was the inaugural Valles (pronounced Viyez) Caldera PyroClassic mountain bike race, about 35 miles west of Santa Fe. Being about 6 hours away from Telluride, I decided to spend the weekend road tripping around New Mexico. My list of potential places to check out included Santa Fe, Taos, and Angel Fire. Someday I'd like to make it down to Roswell to check out the aliens, but that was farther than I wanted to go this weekend. As it turns out, just getting to the race was quite an adventure.

I cut out from work at 3pm on Saturday to get a head start on my trip. Swung by the house to get Lucy and load up the cooler. 2 hours to Durango, then into the desert. I find the dry landscape quite interesting, but it seems I have a primal hatred for such barren land. I'm always grateful when I get back into greenery. I passed through some tiny, poor villages and turned onto County Rd 126 in Cuba, NM. I had no clue what I was getting into. I saw signs prohibiting large trucks and trailers and warning that the road was impassable during inclement weather. I didn't think much of it, but soon the road turned to dirt. Then, I hit a stretch that was under construction, and it had apparently just rained earlier that day. Needless to say it was muddy for several miles. Fortunately the mud was only slick and not deep. My 2wd Tacoma got sideways a couple of times, but I had gone too far to turn back. I pressed on hoping to make it passed the construction. The thought of getting stuck in BFE New Mexico at night was terrifying. Finally I made it to dry rocky dirt again, then pavement. I continued on to find a campsite in the national forest near the caldera. That night we heard a large pack of coyotes howling, and I think it scared Lucy. She didn't make a sound, just sat attentively pressed against me.

The race on Sunday morning was fun, and I had a great time. But the trails could use some work as they were basically nonexistent. The route started off with an 8 mile climb up a dirt road that turned into double track. After that it was 10 miles mostly downhill, but there was no trail. There was a large bench cut in the hill where there used to be a road, but it was completely covered in grass. At the start of the race, I got the hole shot, but I couldn't hold it for long. Two riders passed me when the climb steepened. Cross country races are won and lost on the climbs, especially in the single speed class. So, when I reached the descent I was pretty sure I had 3rd place locked down. My time was 1:32. 1st and 2nd place were around 1:26 and 4th was 1:39. That's what I love and hate about the single speed class. There are no age groups or categories for ability levels.

 

It was 2pm when I hit the road again. I decided to check out the Taos-Angel Fire area as I had heard good things about it. The drive was interesting but nothing noteworthy. The New Mexican mountains are kind of unspectacular after living in the San Juans. I found a nice campsite in the Carson National Forest between the two cities. It started raining just as my brats were finishing cooking, but I didn't mind. I ate dinner, curled up in my sleeping bag under the Softopper, and read a few chapters in a book about a road trip. Coincidentally, Steinbeck was getting rained on too. The next day I rode some decent trails with Lucy around Angel Fire. I headed back to Taos to ride the South Boundary Trail, but a few minutes after I got to the trailhead, it started raining with no signs of letting up. I weighed my options and decided to drive to Pagosa Springs, CO.

On this drive I got to pass over the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge and passed by the Earthships - a neighborhood of self-sustaining homes built from recycled materials. Of course it was raining in Pagosa too. I got some camping and trail advice from a local guide shop and proceeded to find a campsite in the rain. I ended up finding a nice spot by the creek just after the road got too rough for fifth wheels. The rain took a break around dusk just long enough for Lucy and I to stretch our legs. It continued off and on all night, and I found out my Softopper isn't completely water tight. I still got a good night's sleep, but parts of my sleeping bag were wet when I woke up. This was the first night Lucy got a good sleep too with the rain and rushing water drowning out wildlife noises. After letting things dry out the next morning, we hit the trails. The ride was great, though I got lost for a little while - left the map in the truck.

 

Overall it was a great trip, but I'm glad to be showered and in a real bed. This was kind of a shakedown run in preparation for a 3 week road trip at the end of October. Next time I'll do more trail research, but still keep a loose schedule. I may be trading the Tacoma in before then for something with 4wd, but most of what I learned will carry over like the necessity of baby wipes, remembering to pack warm socks and a hat, how to find campsites, and the importance of a good book.