Flattop and Hallett

This past Saturday, we set out for Rocky Mountain National Park to climb Flattop Mountain and Hallett Peak.  Once again, we picked up Juanma at 6am and were greeted with an ethereal sunrise as we drove into the mountains.  Driving up the road to Bear Lake, we spotted this tom strutting for the ladies by the side of the road:

After a quick u-turn, we spotted some more gobblers frolicking on the opposite hillside.  They looked ready for a Thankgiving feast!  After watching them for a few minutes, we were back on our way to Bear Lake.  It's been so warm lately, that Bear Lake (at 9500 feet) is no longer completely frozen.  Here's a view of the lake and Hallett Peak from later in the afternoon:

Like last weekend, the trail was so well packed that our snowshoes stayed on our backs the whole way up.  We lost the trail near treeline, but after some boulder hopping to avoid postholing, we found the trail again near the Emerald Lake overlook:

In addition to Emerald Lake, we could see Longs Peak and Mills Lake in the distance, plus Thatchtop and the glaciated east ridge of Hallett Peak.  While it was an unseasonably warm day, the sun was obscured by clouds, making it feel noticeably colder.  A little further up the trail, our secret weapon - aka Juanma, spotted something moving across the tundra.  Thinking it was another ptarmigan or pika, we were very surprised to see a weasel!!

After getting out the 300mm beast lens, I moved towards the last spot we had seen him.  After scanning about for a few moments, Juanma spotted him again, and I was able to snap a few photos.  These photos have been cropped quite a bit, as it's pretty much impossible to sneak up and get close to a weasel.

I was amazed I even had the time to change lenses and follow him, since the only other weasel I've ever seen was gone in a few seconds.  We continued up the gentle east slope of Flattop, passing a few pikas and ptarmigans under overcast skies.  I didn't even bother photographing them, hoping the light would be better on the way back.

A couple of hundred feet below the summit of Flattop, we got this view of Hallett Peak and Tyndall Glacier:

Laura and Juanma waited while I examined some sheep tracks:

Once on the broad expanses of Flattop, we made good time towards Hallett Peak.  The wind was stronger here, but nowhere near as bad as the last time - when we were forced to turn around back in the fall.

After passing the head of Tyndall Glacier, we ascended the final 400 feet to the summit of Hallett Peak.  From the summit we had a great view of Tyndall Glacier, Flattop, and the distant Never Summer Range to the north:

After a couple of photos, we bundled up and had some lunch.  Juanma had a thermos of tea that was still a bit warm; it was a most appreciated counterpoint to the chilling wind.

After a short break, we got moving again in order to stay warm.  My plan to photograph tundra beasts on the way down proved to be poorly conceived, as we didn't see any ptarmigan, nor did we see any pikas close to the trail.  Near the spot we had seen the weasel, we finally encountered a pair of ptarmigan: 

We've seen so many ptarmigan lately, I may have to change the blog to "Tales of a Ptarmigan Hunter."  Well, at least in the winter when the marmots are snoozing.

A little further down the trail, we encountered this pika chillin' on a rock:

Once back in the woods, I decided to take a "shortcut" straight down the mountain - bypassing the many switchbacks we had climbed earlier.  Thankfully we had the snowshoes, as we began postholing badly soon after leaving the trail.  It was fun to zip down the mountain through the snow, and soon we were back at Bear Lake.  Driving back, we were on the lookout for a good elk sighting.  There was a distant herd near Beaver Meadows, but the best sighting was at the golf course in town:
 

We've seen elk on the golf course plenty of times, but never while people are golfing!  At one point, an elk on the green just missed being hit by a golf ball!!  It landed near his feet and he looked around rather perplexed before moving on.  After giving Juanma a true Estes Park elk experience, we headed back to Boulder and a well earned nap.

Mt. Audubon - Take 2

This past Sunday, Laura and I finally attempted another winter ascent of Mt. Audubon.  We were better prepared this time, with ski goggles for the wind, and our new secret weapon: Juanma.  Juanma is a new postdoc in Laura's lab from Spain, and an avid mountaineer.  We arrived at the winter trailhead just before sunrise, and soon afterwards we were greeted by this view of Audubon on the road to Brainard Lake:

With no major snow in over a month, and near record high temperatures for the past few weeks, there was very little snow on the road.  Even though there were some large drifts, the road was so clear that we were passed by a couple of clever backcountry skiers riding bicycles.

In fact, the snow was so well packed, we didn't need the snowshoes at all on the way out.  We left them in some willows at about 12,000 feet and continued straight up the gradual east slope of Audubon.  It's been many months since we were at such a high elevation, and we could feel the thin air as we huffed and puffed towards the summit.

Finally at the top, Juanma surveys the view to the north, including Longs Peak and RMNP:

Our goggles proved unnecessary, as it was a perfect day with very little wind.  Before eating our lunches, we posed for a picture with Paiute Peak in the background:

We decided to follow the trail on the way down, in search of the snowfield that had been our first ever glissade last year.  While there was significantly more snow up here last July, we were still able to get in a few runs.  Juanma led with his ice axe and experience, with Laura following behind:

After exhausting our glissade opportunities, we cut across the tundra in the direction of our stashed snowshoes.  Leading the way, Laura walked right past this ptarmigan duo:

Juanma, also an avid birder, explained the bird with the red patch above the eyes was male.  I had never even noticed that some (all females) don't have it.  A view of the female:

These ptarmigan were not at all disturbed by us, and I was able to take a LOT of pictures.  They were also quite vocal, making frequent clucking sounds.  Here the male saunters right past me:

The ptarmigan diet isn't particularly nutritious, as they eat quite a bit of grass.  We saw a lot of woody looking poo which Laura identified as being ptarmigan.  They were nibbling dry grass the entire time we were watching them.

The female does her best snow impersonation:

The male looking especially plump from the front:

After a few unsuccessful attempts to leave which resulted in even more picture-taking, I finally retrieved my pack and got ready to go while Laura and Juanma watched the moving ball of snow:

Soon afterwards, we retrieved our snowshoes and reached the last steep section of the mountain.  Juanma broke out his axe, and rocked this awesome glissade:

Due to the steepness and our lack of experience, Laura and I just walked down the slope.

Once back in the trees we strapped on our snowshoes, as the snow was getting soft and we didn't feel like postholing our way back to the road.  We saw very few people on the way back, as the poor snow conditions kept most of the skiers and snowshoers away.  Hopefully the mountains will get some more snow this year, but it looks like winter is pretty much over down in Boulder.  For our finale, we stopped for some delicious Glacier Ice Cream to celebrate what felt like a perfect summer day.

Joe Mills Mountain

Back in the fall, our friend Aaron suggested Joe Mills Mountain as a good winter hiking destination in RMNP.  Named for an early advocate of the park, the summit provides excellent views of Odessa Lake, Odessa Gorge and the mountains of the Continental Divide.  We had concocted a plan to climb it on January 16th, but a snowstorm forced us to turn back before reaching the summit, as visibility was quite poor.

We were able to reach a high point on the ridge where we could see the blocky summit, but had to turn around when it became obvious we couldn't reach it from where we were.  We took a couple of quick photos as the wind battered us, before very carefully retreating down the steep snow-covered slopes and heading back to the trailhead.

Two weeks later, Laura and I made a second attempt under more favorable conditions.  This time we could actually see the mountain as we approached, making it much easier to pick out a suitable route.

We left the Odessa Lake Trail at a much earlier point and snowshoed through the woods towards the base of the mountain.  As Laura led the way, I noticed some interesting tracks in the snow, and stopped to take a closer look.  I followed them to a packed down area that had some unusual poo.

Puzzled, I called Laura back to help me figure out what animal had left these clues.  After a minute of reciting all the things it wasn't, we looked up in the tree above us, and saw what it was.  A porcupine!!!  Happily sleeping off a meal of woody delights.

It wasn't the elusive lynx Aaron always hopes to see, but it was thrilling nonetheless.  Whenever we stop to eat or take a moment to catch our breath, I always look up at the trees hoping to catch a snoozing pork; thinking to myself, "this is a good tree for a nap."  But I had never see one above me until now!!

After a few photos we continued on, zig-zagging our way up to a small saddle on the ridge.  Once at the saddle, we were only a couple of hundred feet below the summit, and pretty soon we had reached the top:

The views from the top were ridiculous.  We could see Odessa Lake below, with The Gable rising above it; plus Castle Rock, Gabletop Mountain, and Stones Peak to the north.

After some pictures, we made our way to the true summit and found a register in an old salsa jar.  We were the first people to have signed it in over two months!

The view to the west wasn't as good, as Notchtop and Flattop were covered in fast moving clouds, but we had a great view of Longs Peak to the south as we headed back down:

In an attempt to escape the wind, we ate lunch a little below the summit and then quickly made our way down the mountain.

We passed the porcupine again as we headed down.  He was still snoozing in the same tree, but had moved to a higher branch.  Soon we were back on the trail which was in much better condition, as plenty of people had packed it down since we passed earlier.  Oddly, we saw only two other people until we got near the parking lot.

It was a perfect day for a snowshoe, though it was too bad Aaron couldn't make it this time.  Weather permitting, we'd gladly do this hike again.  It's relatively easy for a summer hike, but makes for a great winter adventure.

Mt. Audubon

A week before Christmas we attempted an ambitious climb of Mt. Audubon.  In the summer, Audubon is one of the easier 13,000 ft mountains to climb as there is a trail all the way to the top.  It's only an 8 mile round-trip and slightly less than 3000 feet of elevation gain.  In the winter, it's a little more difficult because the road to the trailhead is closed, adding an additional 4 or 5 miles of hiking.

We got to the winter trailhead just before 6am and began hiking in the dark.  Thankfully the snow on the road was packed (due to copious use by x-country skiers) and there was ample light from the reflection of the last quarter (half) moon on the snow (didn't even need the headlamps this time!).  It was incredibly peaceful to walk through the calm woods, with only the moonlight to guide us.  In less than an hour, we made it to this view of Audubon just as the sun was rising:

Soon we were at the summer trailhead, and the snow was no longer packed down by use.  After strapping on our snowshoes, we made our way through the woods towards the base of the mountain.  Soon the trail completely disappeared and we climbed towards treeline, roughly following the snow obscured trail by memory.

Once above treeline the wind became ferocious.  Every time we've been in this area in the winter, the wind has been terrible.  Despite an almost perfect forecast, there was a steady 30-40mph wind, with probably 50-60mph gusts.  As we did our best to keep from being knocked to the ground, I spotted a couple of ptarmigan a little ways ahead:

They were in their full winter white.  I hadn't brought my longer telephoto "beast" lens, thinking there wouldn't be much in the way of wildlife (dang!!), so I tried to sneak up closer by contouring behind a snowbank.  As I peaked over the snowbank, I frightened a third bird I hadn't seen, and it took flight for a couple of seconds!!  He quickly landed and acted like nothing happened.  I had never seen a ptarmigan in flight before; they seem to prefer slow movement on the ground, even when threatened by a man with a camera.

Soon he made his way back to the other two, and we watched them meander along for a little while.  At this point we had our snowshoes off, as they were unnecessary on the windswept tundra, and far from helpful with balance when the wind accosted us.  Then we crossed a drift and Laura promptly sank in to her waist!!  Oops!
 

We continued on, eyes focused on the ground (the only way to avoid being blown over on the uneven terrain), plodding directly into the merciless headwind.  Despite the wind, I didn't feel cold as the sun was shining and it was otherwise a glorious day.  Unfortunately the exposed areas of my face (around my sunglasses) were being battered so ferociously, I was afraid I might get frostbite.  We decided to call it quits at about 12,000 feet, with this view of Mt. Audubon:

We both agreed we could have made it to the top, but it just wasn't worth it.  If we had ski goggles covering our exposed skin, we could have kept slogging on without worrying about frostbite.  We took a more direct route down, heading straight for Mitchell Lake.

It was really enjoyable to snowshoe now, since the wind was at our back, and we were going downhill!!  If only we could have had the tailwind going up!  We stopped to admire this view of Mitchell Lake, Navajo Peak (poking out in the distance), and Pawnee Peak (far right):

Back in the woods and sheltered from the wind, we had a pleasant snowshoe back to the summer trailhead.

We found a suitable picnic table and ate our PB&J lunch.

This was the nicest winter day we've had while at Brainard Lake, yet the wind was still unbearable.  We're definitely going to try this hike again, but with better preparation for the wind.  Brainard Lake is a popular snowshoe and x-country ski destination, and we finally saw some fellow hominids as we passed the lake on the way back.  Looking over the frozen lake, we see (from L to R) Pawnee Peak, Mt. Toll, Paiute Peak, and Audubon:

We bumbled around in the woods exploring and trying to avoid the throngs of people, before getting back on the closed section of road and heading back to the car.  Here we crossed the icy St. Vrain Creek while exploring:

Despite our failure, this was a good warmup for the next hike I had planned.  On the way to New Mexico for Christmas, Laura and I had planned on climbing Quandary Peak (one of the easier 14ers and therefore a good winter climb), and today's hike proved that it was definitely doable.  Unfortunately it snowed 15 inches in Boulder the day before we left for New Mexico, and there was no way we were leaving at 4am (as planned) and driving on bad roads through the mountains.  Oh well, next time.