LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 25 four Texans who had taken the standard route. Soon a solo hiker, looking fit and energetic, arrived and com- menced the traverse. By the time Steve and I finished our snacks, he was well along the ridge. We were not as swift-footed. The traverse would take us five hours, partly due to the daunting exposure and some tricky route-finding but mostly due to my weak lungs. Leaving Little Bear, we descended a steep band of rock with a thousand-foot drop-off. The exhilaration did not let up as we gingerly stepped around corners, tiptoed on catwalks, and climbed over or around large towers. When it became clear the traverse would take much longer than anticipated, we debated whether to continue. We pushed on, arriving on Blanca about a half-hour before sunset. With rainclouds approaching, we hur- ried off the summit. Steve snapped a photo of the talus bathed in orange alpenglow. On the descent it started to rain and snow. We were delighted to finally reach the campsite at 9:45 p.m., more than 13 hours after we left. Crestone Traverse Steve left for a week to attend a wedding back east. When he returned we embarked on another memora- ble adventure in the Sangres: the Crestone Traverse. "Good rock, lots of exposure, and challenging route finding combine to make this truly a classic," Dave Coo- per says in his guidebook Colorado Scrambles. "It is also very serious. A number of fatalities have occurred on this route." We had an additional worry: on our trek to Crestone Peak we saw fresh snow on ledges and in cracks at high elevation. I met a hiker who said the snow had forced a party to back off the traverse. We camped near the base of the peak, at 12,700 feet. It rained all night, so neither of us got much sleep. In the morning we could still see snow in the mountains. Fortunately, it was a sunny day. Approaching the Cre- stone summit via the Red Gully, we found the rock dry. Unfortunately, this being Saturday, several other par- ties were climbing the gully, increasing the risk of rock- fall. After reaching a saddle, we scrambled to the left just below a ridge to gain the 14,294-foot summit. As we returned to the saddle, I overheard a guy com- plain about turning 35. Evidently, he thought he was old. "Hey, I'm 71," I told him. "You're my hero," someone in the group replied. "I want to be like you." I laughed, not telling him about my huffing and puff- ing. We descended the Red Gully to 13,800 feet and began a cross-country hike over ledgy terrain. After crossing a couloir we started to climb toward Crestone Needle. The technical crux came at the base of a large pinnacle known as the Black Gendarme, where we had to climb over a bulge (rated 5.2, but seemed harder) before ascending a short but steep gully and then crossing a knife-edge rib to easier terrain. But the psychological crux was the face just below the Crestone Needle summit. It's long, steep, and super ex- posed, though the conglomerate knobs make for easy and enjoyable climbing (class 4). As we reached the top, the climbers we had met on Crestone Peak, who passed us on the traverse, cheered us on. We still faced a long, arduous descent. We arrived at the campsite three hours later, about dusk, just as it started to rain. We had been on our feet for 10 hours. The Knife Steve and I did other fun stuff out west such as moun- tain biking in the red-rock country of Sedona, Arizona; climbing a pair of arches in southern Utah; and biking the famous Slick Rock Trail in Moab. But in keeping with the alpine theme, I especially want to mention another scramble we did: the Knife in the Plata Range, part of the San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado. Cooper calls it "one of the finest ridge traverses in the state." We again relied on Steve's driving skills to get us close to our destination. This rough jeep road was even scarier than the one approaching Little Bear. Near the end, as we passed through a narrow section, the vehi- cle kicked loose some rocks, which we heard bouncing down the mountainside. The next day we tagged the 13,149-foot summit of Middle Babcock Peak, then descended the same way before climbing to the lesser summit of West Babcock, the start of the Knife. As its name suggests, the ridge is very narrow and airy, but it was easier than our tra- verses in the Sangres. The hardest climbing was class 4 or easy class 5. About halfway across we met two guys coming from the opposite direction. We saw no one else on yet another beautiful day in the alpine. Before breaking camp the next morning, we spent 15 minutes or so moving rocks to repair that tight section of road. Steve then drove across by himself. My job was to get help if the road collapsed. It didn't, and so we both lived to tell the tale. t Steve keeps his balance on a traverse of the Knife in the La Pla- ta Range in the San Juan Mountains. Photo Credit: Phil Brown

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