Climbing Grays, Torreys, and Kelso Ridge
Posted by sainteterre on October 30, 2011 · Leave a Comment
With no full moon to light our way, Steven and I had no reason to set our alarms for 11.30 pm to leave by midnight for the trail. Instead, we decided to sleep-in until 2am. At 1am I was brewing coffee, and just as tired as if I’d woken at 11.30. So much for energy conservation.
The nice thing about Front Range 14ers is the ease with which the urban, time-scant adventurers can access them. With that being said, though, be prepared for the shock-smashing, lip-biting trudge up the road to Grays and Torreys. If Steve was not able to drive his Xterra, we’d need to stop at the lower parking area (close to 2 miles, I believe, below the trailhead) and walk up a chunky granite road, past private land with idyllic cabins, and arsenic and cadmium soaked streams (heavy mining has made the ostensibly clear water questionable for generations).
We were the first climbers at the trail and could see the two peaks thanks to a foot of snow that had fallen a day or so earlier. Not long, however, after we began our climb, a car pulled up in the lot. Then, a matter of 15 minutes later, another car. Grays and Torreys, like Quandary, Bierstadt, and Longs, see thousands of boot and trekking pole use annually. And, come winter, telemark skis will slice open the snow leading to the peaks.
Conversation at those hours, if recorded, would keep both Steve and I out of politics and serious relationships with women. Something about our brains being frozen, lacking oxygen, sleep-deprived and fueled on cheap coffee and caffeine-soaked gummies (GU makes some seriously tasty energy candy) turns our English into a fetid slew of obscenities. I only mention this because it creates laughter–and at those times and altitudes, and with long switchbacks glaring down at you, laughter is my one response to misery that keeps my feet moving one in front of the other. When the day is over, we admit our lunacy and return to a more civil way of speaking and living.
At the top of Grays we took a few photos, watched a poor climber try to stay warm against near 0F winds in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, then trekked over to Torreys.
We’d made the decision to climb down Kelso Ridge because I wanted to up our experience from cat 2s to a cat. 3 climb. Kelso seemed like a great place to begin. With just enough snow to turn everything into an ice skating rink, we questioned our decision to continue on the narrow granite spine. But with slow, deliberate steps, some crying from Steven, and some reserved horror from me, we made our way safely.
This is the first time, though, that I’ve ever been assured of imminent death if I made mistake. Scooting across a knife edge of granite was thrilling, but it was, as Steven said, “having an ass full of granite with death on both sides,” which can be less than “fun” for some. It took a long time to go that way, but, when it was over, we felt empowered. This was my first taste of climbing in a more technical sense, even though we hardly needed ropes or other gear, it was definitely more challenging mentally, which I crave in outdoor sports.
In the end, it is a circuit that can be completed by most anyone–but be prepared to take your time.
Cheers,
JCA
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
Like this:
One blogger likes this post.
Climbing Grays, Torreys, and Kelso Ridge
Posted by sainteterre on October 30, 2011 · Leave a Comment
With no full moon to light our way, Steven and I had no reason to set our alarms for 11.30 pm to leave by midnight for the trail. Instead, we decided to sleep-in until 2am. At 1am I was brewing coffee, and just as tired as if I’d woken at 11.30. So much for energy conservation.
The nice thing about Front Range 14ers is the ease with which the urban, time-scant adventurers can access them. With that being said, though, be prepared for the shock-smashing, lip-biting trudge up the road to Grays and Torreys. If Steve was not able to drive his Xterra, we’d need to stop at the lower parking area (close to 2 miles, I believe, below the trailhead) and walk up a chunky granite road, past private land with idyllic cabins, and arsenic and cadmium soaked streams (heavy mining has made the ostensibly clear water questionable for generations).
We were the first climbers at the trail and could see the two peaks thanks to a foot of snow that had fallen a day or so earlier. Not long, however, after we began our climb, a car pulled up in the lot. Then, a matter of 15 minutes later, another car. Grays and Torreys, like Quandary, Bierstadt, and Longs, see thousands of boot and trekking pole use annually. And, come winter, telemark skis will slice open the snow leading to the peaks.
Conversation at those hours, if recorded, would keep both Steve and I out of politics and serious relationships with women. Something about our brains being frozen, lacking oxygen, sleep-deprived and fueled on cheap coffee and caffeine-soaked gummies (GU makes some seriously tasty energy candy) turns our English into a fetid slew of obscenities. I only mention this because it creates laughter–and at those times and altitudes, and with long switchbacks glaring down at you, laughter is my one response to misery that keeps my feet moving one in front of the other. When the day is over, we admit our lunacy and return to a more civil way of speaking and living.
At the top of Grays we took a few photos, watched a poor climber try to stay warm against near 0F winds in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, then trekked over to Torreys.
We’d made the decision to climb down Kelso Ridge because I wanted to up our experience from cat 2s to a cat. 3 climb. Kelso seemed like a great place to begin. With just enough snow to turn everything into an ice skating rink, we questioned our decision to continue on the narrow granite spine. But with slow, deliberate steps, some crying from Steven, and some reserved horror from me, we made our way safely.
This is the first time, though, that I’ve ever been assured of imminent death if I made mistake. Scooting across a knife edge of granite was thrilling, but it was, as Steven said, “having an ass full of granite with death on both sides,” which can be less than “fun” for some. It took a long time to go that way, but, when it was over, we felt empowered. This was my first taste of climbing in a more technical sense, even though we hardly needed ropes or other gear, it was definitely more challenging mentally, which I crave in outdoor sports.
In the end, it is a circuit that can be completed by most anyone–but be prepared to take your time.
Cheers,
JCA
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
Like this:
Filed under Photography, Review & Commentary · Tagged with backpacking, Climb, essay, Photography, Prose, review, Wilderness Areas