BIG D & the Crestones

One look at a photograph of the 2,000 foot buttress had me hooked.  It didn’t matter that it was a “14er” or a “classic” route in Roper & Steck.  It was a beautiful looking place and there was no way Doug and I could avoid the Ellingwood Arete/Ledges (F.A. 1925) on the northeast face of Crestone Needle (14197 feet, 4327 m).  This peak was the last of the fifty or so Colorado 14ers to be ascended in 1916 and is located in south central Colorado’s Sangre de Cristo Wilderness of the San Isabel National Forest.

I flew directly from Chicago to Colorado Springs and arrived late enough to justify a bivy outside the airport.  Doug wouldn’t have any of it and whisked me away in his yellow Ford Festiva limousine at 1:30 am to his home for a short rest before we rode his first grader Jules to school and readied our packs for four days in the backcountry.  This was a rather spontaneous trip planned in a few short emails, although Doug and I have known eachother and our respective abilities (lots for Doug, little for me!) for nearly a decade.  We weren’t particularly cocky about this short trip given that neither of us had climbed any rock for over a year. I feared the altitude would kill me before anything else.  The biggest threats were far different than the usual hypoxia, lightening, rockfall, etc. – it was the heinous air quality found within our mini-tent after only three days (due mostly to Doug FB)!   

Doug drove us about three hours in a southwesterly direction, parked at the lower lot (9000 feet, 2700 m) in the blazing heat and full midday sun and there we began our 5-mile (8 km) trudge up the rocky 4x4 road heading into the mountains.  Before we started, of course, we checked blood sugars and I adjusted basals by reducing them about 80% for the approach and both Doug and I had something to eat.  Doug put some boiled sweets (hard candies courtesy of the last conference he attended) in his pocket.  We continued beyond where the “road” ended and found ourselves on a well-worn path a few more miles to gain upper South Colony Lake.  Doug was a few minutes (hours??) ahead of me and I thought he’d have the tent set up and dinner cooked, but all he did was find in short order a perfect campsite - staring right at our route!! One of the most spectacular settings in the hills I've been to - honestly - although it does seem that the last place you visit you tend to hold in high regard.  Blood sugars during the approach were stable and spot on.    

It was intimidating looking at this mighty buttress all late afternoon and into early evening.  But after a detailed study of the cracks, ledges and faces, it all looked pretty straight forward to both of us --- provided the weather held and we were healthy. 

The 5 am alarm brought me to my half-senses and assured Doug would be snoring full bore until hot drinks and breakie was served.   I reduced my bolus for the oatmeal (not enough) and before leaving the tent, reduced my basals by 50%.  Saturday, August 23, 2008 and nearly daybreak when we made our way around the lake and up to the “direct” start of the Ellingwood Arete.  Before Doug reached the top of the first pitch, a short volley of rockfall initiating from WAY above, whistled past.  The next pitch was mine as Doug gave me no other choice with the “look” and transfer of what little bits of gear we had.  Thankfully, this pitch was easy and I moved as fast as I could (not very) and soon decided that this deep dihedral was too wet and funneling any and all loose rocks from above, so I bailed stage left and found a fine grassy ledge to bring Doug up on.

Route finding was easy and, amazingly, we were the only party on the entire face of solid conglomerate that day.  The only “hard” climbing was the final pitch which held a short overhanging section (super-well protected) which Doug led methodically and easily.  I flailed, screamed, and scratched my way up this 5.7+ crux.  At least I could say that these hardest moves were at 13,800 feet (4200 meters)! We belayed a total of 6 pitches, moving conservatively and safely (meaning we went slow!), reaching the summit of Crestone Needle just before noon (5.5 hours to get up).  I was chasing high blood sugars for most of the day climbing after I overate to compensate for the over-bolus at breakfast (post-prandial hypoglycemia). Doug mostly had to eat to keep from hypoing (not enough Lantus™ reduction??).  We descended the south face gulleys and Broken Hand Pass and overtook a dozen or so other people and returned to the tent by 2pm.        

We had ticked off our “technical” alpine route and decided that the next few days we would lighten our loads and ditch the climbing gear.  Sunday morning after hot drinks and oatmeal (with a bigger bolus reduction of 60% for me) we walked up a valley towards an area called the Bear’s Playground and followed a series of summits/ridges to reach Kit Carson Peak (14,165 feet, 4318 m).  A group of coyotes were howling/greeting one another in a remote side valley below the ridge and the wind direction and geometry of the valley sent their beautiful voices right to us.  The “daunting notch” (this after the “discouraging notch” as generically described in our guidebook) involved a fun exposed (bloody frightening) scramble to gain the last section to Kit Carson.

On our way back, Doug nearly tripped over a half dozen white-tailed ptarmigan the color of the late summer mountain slope at 13,700 feet (4175 m).  We returned by adding the ridge above our tent and descended the last section of the Humboldt trail from the saddle right to home sweet home and lunch (well, for me anyway).  From high up on the ridge it looked like there were people rummaging in our tent and Doug thought he saw a dog, but they turned out to be just a group of bighorn sheep licking up my spilled (miso, tofu, seaweed, sound familiar Jeff?) soup from the night before.  Two-hours of rain, hail, lightening, thunder in the afternoon kept us tentbound and napping.  It seemed like forever with Doug echoing the resonating thunder with his own fury while the tent doors were zipped up tight (ok, I did contribute modestly).  The rain stopped and we thankfully emerged from the tent to scramble up one of our many observation/sitting rocks and watched a sole coyote marking his/her territory and stealthily reconnoitering through the talus to the dismay of marmots and pikas who warned others down the way that danger was near and approaching.  

Next morning we ran up the west ridge of Humboldt Peak (14064 feet, 4287 m) directly above us in 50 minutes and 30 minutes down.  This after I PLEADED with Doug to join me.  He then proceeded to rip my legs off with a blistering tempo.  We did linger on top for more than a half hour because the light and place were perfect.  Stunning views.  Great beginning to our last day.   

Back to the car by 11am.  Blood sugars for both of us were generally ok, with no huge problems.  Doug set the record high BG, though!  I wasn't far behind and had a few minor hypos I easily treated.  Doug, too.  Ah, Big D in the mountains.  Doesn’t get any better than that. 
 
Thanks Trish and Jules for letting Doug play with me.  Also thanks fro the nice dinner and ride back to the airport.