My back was still not recovered from the injury, so I decided to spend one more weekend above treeline, bagging peaks. Kris mentioned Mt. Princeton, and I thought, “Why not, we were just up Columbia and Harvard!”.
As Gerry Roach says, “Princeton is the southernmost and most visible of the Collegiate fourteeners. As you descend west into the Arkansas River Valley, on U.S. 285, Princeton stares you smack in the face for many miles. You cannot ignore its gaze.”
Princeton stared us smack in the face and then delivered a sly & wicked lovetap. It passively allowed us access to the summit, then aggressively spit us out on the opposite end from whence we came. Beware the subtle, twisted, and tangled nature of the many high ridges of Princeton!
I woke up at 3:15am Sunday, to the sound of the cell phone alarm. I shut it off, and then went through the rote motions. Brush teeth, put clothes on, load up the car with gear, grab wallet, slurp coffee, and remember sunglasses. It’s dark (no doubt!) at 3:30am, so I’ve learned to doubly remind myself to bring them!
I made it to Kris’ place a little after 4am, and we set off in the car. I was so relieved he was driving. My brain just barely operates at that time, it was a miracle I made it to his house!
We zipped through the mountain roads, while his wonder dawg, Pavi slipped into the land of doggy dreams. Her little paws crossed, head rested over the top. On occasion, I could see her front paws twitch and her ears perk up…but I know it wasn’t from our discussion of religion & culture interconnectedness.
One thing I find interesting is that I’m a little more open to discussions of non-science related material when the moon is still high in the sky.
We made it to the pullout for Mt. Princeton sometime around 7am. I have to caviat the times in this blog, because I lost my camera…so I don’t have times recorded.
The Trailhead for Grouse Canyon is not as well marked as the other trailheads I’ve seen. We followed the directions and I know we were in the right spot, because when we arrived, there was a couple camping out right there.
It is my experience, thus far, that only peak baggers are wanting to put up a tent within five feet of the parking pullout! Their tent could only have been closer to their car, if they had pitched it on top of the dang thing 8^) Ha-ha.
In any event, we had a quick snack of oranges (delish!) and then headed off. It would be my first attempt at a 14’er in my VFFs, so I was excited.
We walked down a gravelly slowly deteriorating road, until we reached it’s end. A trail faintly meandered up a very lush and verdent Grouse Canyon. At times, I wondered if we were off route because the trail so closely tracked next to Grouse Creek. We could feel the spray from the little waterfalls, and the cool humidity was uber refreshing.
As the sun slowly came up, it became quite muggy in Grouse Canyon, and I was happy we were walking fast. I walked through endless corridors of spider webs, strung up between fronds of ferns. I felt like I was in a tropical and exotic location, not in the mountains of Colorado!
Kris & Pavi seemed to be really enjoying the hike, as we ascended up the canyon. Pavi’s tail was like a ships propeller, in a constant blur of joyful motion.
After about 2 hours of hiking, the canyon and side drainage faded away below, and we followed a rocky gully which grew ever steeper.
The rock gully began at just below treeline, and there were a collection of cairns once we emerged from the jungle.
The climb up to Princeton’s southwest ridge was fairly intense. It wasn’t as hard as Columbia’s scree slopes, but it was a little more confusing.
The trail was not very established, one just decides the best way through the cacti and goes up. Trekking poles are a big plus on this ridge…Putting a hand down on the prickly slope would be a risky/painful endeavor.
I believe it took us another hour to gain the ridgeline from the start of the Rocky Gully at treeline.
The ridge itself is very pretty; the views are jaw dropping. I really enjoyed this part of the hike; it was the best part of the day (in hindsight)!
We were smart enough to not go all the way up point 13,971. We skirted around the side of it, and completed the traverse to Mt. Princeton.
Princeton from the Traverse
Climbergirl Navigating the Sharp & Rocky Traverse
The traverse to Princeton is not very well marked. There were only a few cairns along the way. I’m guessing not much traffic follows the Southwest Ridge, as compared to the Eastern Slopes route.
We navigated along steep scree & boulders, looking for the best way to the summit ridge of Princeton. It was not as obvious as Mr. Roach makes it sound!
It was ~2 hours for the traverse to the summit of Mt. Princeton.
We summitted between 12 and 1pm. We had lunch at the top, and took some fun yoga pictures.
A man & his son were out from the midwest on a summer vacation, and mentioned it was their first 14’er. I said, “BRAVO!”. The young son was probably around 14, lanky and subdued (compared to Dad! who was super psyched).
We signed the summit register, and then noted the clouds building. Time to head down!
On the way back, a group of four (who had followed us on the way up) began boot skiing down from the Mt. Princeton summit ridge. We were both confused because this was not the way we had come, in fact it wasn’t even close to the spot we had come up!
I don’t know how they made it back to their car? The valley they would have ended up in is not the one we came from! In fact, it looks like the end of the valley they descended cliffs out. I think it turns into the Chalk Bluffs…but who knows? I half expected to hear about them on the evening news, “Lost hikers…”.
Looking back to point 13,971 from the Mt. Princeton summit Ridge. One can see the Traverse:
Another View down lower on the Summit Ridge
Notice Point 13,947, which is the sloped mountain covered in Redish Brownish vegitation. For the Southwest Ridge Route, you go to the LEFT of this point on the way back.
We made a mental note to stay alert, and we were looking for the route back. We traversed very nearly the same way we came up, with a few minor variations. When we got to the base of point 13,971, however, we were quite confused.
We didn’t see any of the cairns or trails we had seen coming down, and so we took a break. Clouds & wind & bits of spitting rain greeted us at this point just up from the saddle. The weather added to the tension about making a decision of direction. By now, it was nearing 3pm, and time was a factor.
I wanted to go up to the top of the point, because I believed that from the top, we would be able to best see the way back. Kris thought we should go to the right.
I thought it would be best for us as a team to formulate a plan and go with it, instead of waisting too much time standing there…Whatever happened, we should be firm in our decision. I was feeling unsure, so I was all too happy to yield to Kris.
He bounded down the right side of the point and I followed. Unfortunately, we did not realize we were heading North, when we needed to be going South.
It was really deceiving because the sun was shaded by clouds overhead, and it was very nearly directly over us…it was difficult to get a bearing. Looking at a map was no help either, as we appeared to be on *a* ridge…at about the right altitude. (DOH!).
Some of the hike ahead was looking familiar, but some did not. At times I felt very uneasy. However, we had so much faith in our decision; foreign things were made to look familiar by our brain’s desire for continuity.
I think the altitude and exaustion was taking it’s toll.
We paused after about an hour of downclimbing the ridge. We looked at pictures in our cameras in a vain attempt to determine our location. We couldn’t make sense of the situation, but now it was 5pm and we could see a road with a lake off in the distance.
I thought to myself, “I don’t have a clue where we are, but if we could just make it to that road, we could figure it out.”.
I was a little stressed out, because picking the right canyon to go down would be essential to getting back. Some canyons cliff out, some roads are privately owned, and some ranches are protected with electric fences and hostile gun wielding ranchers. Who knows what the near future held?
Kris was starting to slow down, and the steep grades we were descending were ultra tough on his knees. I cheered him on, and tried to stay positive.
At one point, I made him eat some turkey jerky because he had not eaten a snack in awhile. Pavi was also starting to tire. She was also thirsty, so I gave her a little of my water. (I could hear water in the distance, so I knew she would be okay in a short while.).
On the final ridge, just above treeline, we ran into a group of mountain goats. They were grazing and sauntered away from us as we approached.
About this time, I realized that my camera was missing, I had left it about 800 feet up the slope! It was nearing 6pm, so I just thought it was best to leave it up there. What’s a camera compared to a life?
I know it’s a dramatic thing to write, but this is what I was thinking at the time.
It was late, and we did not know where we were. I didn’t want to spend the night up there. If we had to, I think we would have made it. But, it would have been really uncomfortable, let along worrysome to Dennis. He would have called SAR, and that would have been VERY embarrassing let alone unneccessary.
What I was *more* concerned with was the health status of Kris & Pavi. The two of them were starting to walk like drunkards.
Heck, I was having a hard time staying mentally alert after 12 hours of hiking! I decided at around 6:30pm to take off the VFFs and put on my hiking boots. I had been wearing the VFFs all day, and I my ankles were starting to give out on me, as we were descending the scree & rock filled gully.
We entered into said gully with weary trepidation.
I saw a survivorman episode where he says, “If you get lost, follow water, it will more than likely take you to civilization”. SO, we trounced down the gully, following what would be water (if it wasn’t the end of summer).
I noticed several gullies around us starting to form, so we took the ridge in the middle. Being on a highpoint would allow us to make a better decision, if we needed to pick a more navigable line.
Unfortunately, the ridge turned into a precipitous cliff and we had a choice. Either go back up about 400 feet and then back down in a gully, or climb down a 4th class scramble.
We had a conversation and I opted to try the 4th class bit. I could see a creek down below, and there looked to be a nice walking space next to it. IF ONLY we could reach the creek without breaking ourselves to bits!
I walked backwards slowly & deliberately down the slab until I got to a steep, scree covered rock band. I then threw myself down on my bum and slid for about 30 feet down the steep face. I kept my feet in front of me with my knees bent in anticipation. I came to a stop about 5 feet from a pine tree, which blocked me from splooshing into the creek.
Whew! Relief. Followed by a big Woo-hoo! I made it!
Now, Kris’ turn. I looked up at him and he looked pale. I told him to toss his poles down, and he did. Next, he put the dog on his lap and slid down. I was praying he wouldn’t twist his ankle or get hurt. When he came to a stop, we shouted out with happiness.
Now, if only this creek didn’t turn into a waterfall or a raging river!
We followed the water for about 30 minutes, until we came to a large holding tank. When we saw the holding tank, I figured we’d be okay because somebody had to haul that thing up there…yeah, no cliffs or waterfalls or raging rivers!
Around 7:15pm we ran into a 4wd trail, and we saw human tracks for the first time since 2pm that day. What a huge relief.
Now, if only we knew which direction to go to get back to the car! We emerged from the forest like waterlogged cats, slouching and slogging to a dirt road; exausted from the effort of escaping the high country.
The road ended up being the road for Cottonwood Lakes Campsite (About 8 miles from Buena Vista!). We were able to deduce the error we made earlier in the day; we went north instead of south.
We were more confused than ever about how exactly this had happened, but we were relieved because we were out of the mountains.
We met the Cottonwood Campsite host, a grumpy dude named Ron. We had interrupted his enjoyment of the Poker Championships on TV, and he was halfway into his 3rd Burbon for the evening, when we showed up at his camper. In addition to being grumpy, Ron was not at all happy that Pavi was roaming unleashed and he gave us a lecture about Forest Service dog policy.
I broke down in tears because of all the impending stress we had just been through. I couldn’t believe Ron was being so stern when I explained to him that just an hour ago, I imagined spending the night out in the wild…When the tears flowed, the old slightly drunk guy softened up and offered us water and the use of his cell phone. How nice. He would drive us back, but he’d been drinking…and so forth.
I called Dennis and told him not to send SAR. I also told him that it might be awhile because we were 30 miles from the car, and we had no way of knowing when we would be back.
Around 7:45pm, Kris & I headed down the road with our thumbs out.
An uber nice dude named Justen Anderson came to our rescue. He picked us up and drove us back to the car, stopping in Buena Vista for sub sandwiches. Of course we paid for his dinner (and his girlfriends and kid). What a nice guy, we were so fortunate to have met him!
We got back to our car around 8:30pm and headed back to Denver. I had a difficult time staying awake on the drive back, and I don’t know how Kris managed to drive. Kris is amazing…
I got home around 11:30pm, 20 hours after I left! We estimate we hiked 10 miles, and I did 9 of them in my VFFs.
What a day! Success, Failure, and a HUGE list of Lessons Learned.
Tags: Close Call, CO, Collegiate Range, Mountaineering, Mt. Princeton, VFF