Little Bear Peak Snow Climb - 48/58

In early May a CMC ski friend, Kristen, contacted me about skiing a 14er in the San Juans. I didn't think the snow would be very good on the easy route and the harder route was probably over my head since I haven't skied since March. She agreed and liked my idea of snow climbing Little Bear - what's generally known as the most dangerous Colorado 14er. The standard route ascends a narrow couloir with a funnel covered in baseball to bowling ball sized rock. Any rocks kicked down by climbers or mountain goats above are sent hurtling into the couloir and onto the climbers below. I had been wanting to climb it this time of year since there are fewer climbers on snow routes and the snow would reduce some of the rockfall. The governor had just given his okay to travel for "camping" as long as you don't spent time in the communities you travel through and plan ahead and Little Bear is in Alamosa county which has been applying for exemptions from the state COVID restrictions so we didn't feel unwelcome. 

I met Kristen and we took her Xterra down - turned out to be the perfect vehicle for unrelenting rocks on the infamous Lake Como Road. In the right truck it really wasn't that bad, especially after airing down her tires to ~22 psi. This is a step most people miss when driving really rough roads; soft tires absorb bumps, conform to rocks to add traction and prevent sharp rocks from flatting the tire. You don't spin your wheels losing traction as much and can crawl more easily over difficult obstacles. It was mostly just rocks big enough to prevent a typical cross over from making it very far. We parked at 10,000 feet where the 14ers.com trailhead description said to park but could have made it another half mile. The hike in was slow, loaded with overnight packs, cold weather clothes, ice axes, crampons, etc. but we caught up to a local family out for a drive and day hike and chatted with them some.

After 2.5 miles and about 1800 vert, we made it to Como Lake and found a site for the night in between snow drifts. The next morning we were hiking by 5:45. The route is fairly straight forward - ascend the snow filled North Gully, traverse along the ridge under the hourglass and then up to the summit. The lower half of the North gully was filled with rotten snow and it really slowed our progress. About midway up the snow was supportable and we were able to climb out to ascend to the hourglass.

The terrain above the hourglass was loose but not in a way that made me afraid of falling, just incredibly aware of how easy it was to send rocks down at frightening speeds. I was glad we were the only ones on the route but was still careful not to kick anything down on Kristen. We made it to the summit after nearly three and a half hours for a distance of 3.5 miles. 

Soon we were descending and post-holing our way back to the tents. The route was so steep there was no real way to glissade anything so we ended up downclimbing, facing into the slope and using both axes for balance when the inevitable thigh deep plunge through rotten snow occurred. Eventually we were back at the tents for a short break and to pack our things for the walk out and long drive home. 

Long overdue update - 1-year post breakup in the pandemic

It's been a while since I updated this blog - sorry!

I'll try to sum things up since the last post in 2016.

2017 I got more into backcountry skiing and even bought a touring setup, took my avalanche level 1 class and continued to bag peaks - still not a great skier but it was fun learning.  Guthook and I did most of Skurka's Wind River High Route as part of our now annual backpacking trip. Maybe I'll write a blog about it but the route was incredible and more difficult than we expected. Training was tough as a working stiff, especially with a big project I had at work that required a 10-day on 4-day off schedule with 10-12 hour days when on. Guthook had some altitude problems but we ended up doing most of the route, just taking a shorter exit.  Rachel and I had done a 4th of July weekend trip to the famed Chicago Basin to bag 14ers. The scenery was incredible and I got all the peaks - class 3/4 isn't Rachels cup of tea so she explored some trails in the area. We had a wonderful time. I think that was the year we did the Wonderland Trail too, 95 miles around Mount Rainer only we had no visibility the first five out of seven days. The last two were great but it was a bit anticlimactic and really made me appreciate Colorado - a state where I've never been skunked for more than one day at time.

2018 saw even more skiing - at this point Rachel was a proficient backcountry nordic skier and we had some good trips, a hut trip or two with P. Mags and even a few day skis with the CMC. I bagged more 13ers and 14ers over the summer - I think this is the year a friend from Boston, Matt, moved out and we did some hikes together including some easier 14ers in the San Juans with Rachel. In September we moved into a townhouse I bought in Lakewood. We had been in Boulder the last few years so it was a big change but it was great living together those first few months - painting and picking out furniture from craigslist. The space is really nice and I started to think we would be together for a long time. It was closer to both our jobs and the neighborhood definitely isn't Boulder but there are lots of trails nearby. 

That January I was skinning up Quandary Peak, a local 14er, with two friends on snowshoes. The nearby ski area reported a foot of snow overnight but we found less than 6-inches of new snow covering rocks. I was debating walking down with my friends if it came to that when we spotted a lone figure crumped near the base of the ski line most people do on the east face of the summit. We called out to two people who had went over to check on the skier to see if they needed help - one of them replied they needed bandages and had called 911. I went over to help since my first aid kit is pretty good but when I made it there and started to dig through my pack the victim stopped breathing. I could tell from his tracks he had skied at high speed into some snow covered rocks and tumbled into them. The other two responders had covered his head wound with a wool mitten and I didn't want to look so we got him into a stable position and started CPR. More people stopped to help but I was the only one trained in CPR and a second 911 call brought in flight for life about 20 minutes later. The paramedic assessed the head wound and said he could have landed in the ER and not survived. The group was pretty devastated but we helped move his body and gear to the helicopter. I was shaken for a few weeks but eventually returned to skiing.

2018's annual Guthook trip was a pretty moderate on-trail affair with Rachel in the Elks since we were all out of hiking shape. It was a variation of the Capitol Pass loop and was incredible - honestly better than the 4-pass loop Rachel and I did earlier in the year. I decided to start a 4WD trailhead for fun and we took Rachels 2000 Ford Ranger, which did great. It rained way more than forecasted on our last day and the roads got slick. Drenched and finally back to the truck we decided to take another route out which turned out to be an extremely challenging 4WD road for a stock pickup - big rocks, some drops and lots and lots of bumps. Still, I think it was safer than going down wet switchbacks cut into slippery shale. Rachel was not happy when I told her about the paved trailhead a few miles off the loop we could have used... Also her brake caliper loosened up on the way out, I must not have torqued it properly when changing the pads and rotors a month prior.

In the fall my work sent me to Hawaii for two days of actual work that just happened to fall right before a weekend... Of course I took Rachel along, we loved the beaches and snorkeling but something seemed off. There was no romance and it kind of felt forced. We were both kind of testy most of the trip. I was worried about our relationship but thought it was stress from both our jobs and hoped things would improve. Neither one of us were very good at communicating - I would ask Rachel what was wrong and she would say she was fine but I knew something was off just not how to get at it. 

In 2019 I finally started to feel proficient at downhill and especially backcountry (alpine touring) skiing. We spent a lot of time skiing resorts and I got some backcountry days in with some Colorado Mountain Club friends but in late March things between Rachel and I still weren't feeling right. I got some birthday money from my parents and we decided to go for a long weekend skiing in Banff since our ski pass had 5 days at three different resorts near there and it was only a 90 minute flight from Denver. They weren't having a great snow year - it was pretty much spring conditions but the scenery was incredible and it was fun to ski somewhere different everyday. Again though things felt kind of forced and when we weren't skiing it just didn't feel right. After that trip I was starting to think about breaking up and what that would look like but after four years of basically being attached at the hip it was hard to imagine. We still couldn't communicate. I had put on some weight and thought maybe I wasn't attractive anymore or was doing something wrong but couldn't get a straight answer. There was just this air of anxiety hanging over everything.

Around the end of April, Rachel started sleeping in the guest bedroom. At first it was because of my snoring but I knew that wasn't right because the week before she wouldn't snuggle like we used to - it seemed like things were going downhill rapidly. The third night in a row I said it felt like we were becoming room mates and asked if she still loved me - I got a silent hug in response. A few minutes later, in tears, Rachel came out to me as gay. She said she had known for a while but thought I would be mad if she told me. I wasn't mad at all, which kind of shocked her. I was actually relieved because finally the answer to why things were feeling so wrong was out and it wasn't anything I had or hadn't done. I wish she had told me sooner, my guess is she knew when we went to Hawaii the previous November but maybe was in denial for a few months.

It took until she moved out about two weeks after she came out to me for the breakup to really hit home. When you wake up and the person who had been next to you for four years isn't there, it's kind of shocking. Going to bed wasn't much better - I just kept thinking about what I had lost; adventure buddy, partner, best friend - someone to grow old skiing with. I cried a lot those first few weeks. I would start to feel normal again and then feel worse when something reminded me of Rachel. A mutual friend was training to thru-hike the PCT so we did some short backpacking trips together the month after the breakup and just setting up the tent almost sent me to tears - it was something Rachel and I had done together literally hundreds of times. Once inside the tent, alone, she was all I could think about. Backpacking in general has been tough for me ever since, always bringing Rachel to mind.

Over the rest of that summer and the fall I tried to re-kindle a friendship from Rachel but I got nothing in return. Each time plans got canceled without any offers to reschedule or invitations to try again I suffered with self doubt and uncertainty as to why . Eventually I suspected she wasn't interested in being friends and a few misunderstandings later, some shitty things said on my part and we aren't talking to each other anymore. Time to move on for good I guess.

Anyway, enough about Rachel. In the fall of 2019 I joined a 20-person ski house-share in Silverthorne. Having a bed with my name on it made skiing so much more enjoyable: no more 5 am drives to beat traffic only to ski all day wondering how bad traffic would be. I also met a bunch of new friends who liked to spend time in the mountains.  Colorado was having a great ski season and having a place to stay meant I could come up during the week, ski in the morning and get into work around noon. The house was rarely busy and despite the 19 other people on the lease there were usually 7 to 10 people there on weekends and 1 or 2 during the week. At $200/month it was definitely added cost to the ski season but it saved me so many hours in traffic between ski areas and home and let me meet more people - something everyone needs after a big breakup.

Right at the end of February I bought a truck! I still have my Honda civic but plan on selling it when the market picks up. The truck lets me drive over unplowed trailheads, 4x4 roads and be able to bivy in the bed. The previous owner bought a matching topper and built a simple platform with storage box underneath. In winter I've been getting around 21 mpg highway so not too terrible. I wanted a vehicle I could sleep comfortable in, could access moderate 4x4 roads with and didn't take premium or eat too much gas. A lot of people would have gone with a larger Subaru but their engine quality has seriously declined to the point where corporate claims 1 quart of oil burned per 3,000 miles is "normal". Plus, they CVTs and non-turbo engines are anemic. If you get a turbo version the mpgs go from around 35 to 28 or 29 and you have to use premium - basically a 25% cost increase in gas so it costs the same as a 22 mpg vehicle. Even then the ground clearance isn't great compared to a truck and there's no 4-low to crawl up and down rough terrain. I would up getting a 2015 Tacoma SR5. Not the offroad version with the locking rear diff and A-TRAC all wheel traction control but I think plenty capable - especially given the places I was able to get Rachels Ranger with open diffs, smaller tires and no traction control at all. I swapped in some LEDs to the interior lights which make a big difference and swapped the worn suspension out for some take offs from a 2019 offroad Tacoma, giving my 2015 about a half inch lift and a softer ride.

March came though and COVID-19 hit Colorado hard. Vacationers to ski areas from out of state started outbreaks in Vail, Gunnison and Denver. The Governor shut the ski areas down with no warning. Suddenly there were talks of ventilator and PPE shortages, skyrocketing caseloads and overwhelmed rural hospitals serving a vulernable elderly population. Vail sent all their employees packing; potential vectors back to their home towns. Rocky Mountain National Park closed, then the ski areas closed their uphill access. There were no travel restrictions yet and the national forest was still open so I and a few friends still went out skiing - we had two weekends of fantastic powder, some of my best backcountry days to date. 

In mid-April I learned of another backcountry ski fatality. I have always followed accident reports through the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (CAIC) as a way to learn from others mistakes. This time though, the report was about someone I knew - Aaron, from the ski house. We weren't close but had skied at Copper together once and hung out at the house a lot, discussing avalanche conditions and decision making. Aaron and two friends went out to ski an incredibly exposed, narrow and aesthetic couloir or snow filled gully. It was several days after a significant storm and a few inches of snow fell the previous night. The party didn't expect a significant wind slab problem and confirmed their beliefs with some intentional ski cuts above the entrance to the couloir. When the third skier joined the other two he set off a thin wind slab avalanche, only 8 inches deep but enough to knock Aaron off his feet and send him nearly 2,000 feet down the couloir to his death.  

The backcountry and ski house community was shocked - why had they been out there during the pandemic? What made them think that north facing line was safe? Aaron was a mentor to several people and considered a highly capable backcountry skier, one more capable than me or most people I know - and he died. It came as shock both from the loss and the realization of how dangerous backcountry skiing can be. For me it was an affirmation of the choices I make to ski conservatively, avoiding no-fall zones and conditions that could lead to a fall on steep terrain. I would rather ski fun slopes in good conditions and turn back more often than I need to than push boundaries and ski steep exposed terrain like many others. The death of a better, more experienced skier was just another reality check and helped ground me to avoid that kind of terrain.

When the order to socially isolate came, I stopped doing anything with other people entirely. I was kind of glad to have gotten a renter/housemate back in July since I wouldn't be totally alone. I still went out to nordic ski on closed roads and snow covered trails since it's so low risk and kept me sane. Around the end of April the snow started getting too icy to be fun for skinny nordic skis and floppy boots. I finally got my parents to ship out my old Bilenky road bike and put some money into new tires and some work into the drivetrain to get it running.  Road biking was a passion of mine from about 2006 to 2010, ending in a persistent knee injury. The quiet roads from social distancing have been fantastic to ride on and a bunch of my neighbors and coworkers are roadies to boot. I know - social distancing - but do you really think you can transmit a virus between people moving on bicycles? I don't so I'm not going to worry about it.

I've found some quiet trails to hike as well and have been wearing a mask when hiking past people although I think even that is a bit much. I even got a mid-week backpacking trip in without leaving my county! Reynolds Park has hike in campsites available for reservation through Jefferson County and nobody else was there during a Wednesday night outing last week. At a half mile each way I think it was my shortest backpacking trip to date but was a great change from my house. I had the whole place to myself and plan to go back when at the next new moon to see some stars.

Planning the year with COVID is going to be difficult at best and futile at worst but I still have the following goals:

1.  Finish the 14ers - I have 11 left
2.  Bag at least 5 more centennial 13ers
   
3.  Finish the Colorado Trail - I have about 80 miles from Durango to the CDT left
4.  Explore new parts of Colorado - this one is intentionally vague if restrictions are in place all summer
5.  Do another trip with Guthook somewhere awesome - also going to be hard to plan and likely to be put off until Fall
6.  Keep making new friends
   

In addition I'll be mountain biking, hiking and even road biking during the week and weekends when I'm not supposed to travel. I'll try to keep this blog updated and see how I do.