Getting There Saturday – St Louis to Crested Butte, CO

                It’s been an intense 30 hours to finally make it to the trail head.  It started with me in North Carolina at the world’s most luxurious, all-inclusive resort located in the enchanting hamlet of Wilson.  The staff here bend over backwards to serve their guests and make sure all is running smooth as a clock at all times.  I had two personal attendants that monitored my every wish—Ricky and Charles.  Charles tried to get me to stay on another week by bringing me another Margarita (my third of the morning) but I insisted that I had to go.  He had Ricky summon my limousine and personal driver to get me to the airport to fly first class back to St Louis.  After 5 days, I couldn’t handle even one more light beer or 5 star meal provided by the resort staff.  It had been another glorious, relaxing week.  In fact, I’ve already signed up for another week after we get back from Maroon Bells.  At least, that is how Pam envisions my weeks when I’m travelling for work.

No, not NC

                In reality, I was ecstatic to get the hell out of the tire plant where I’ve already spent 6 months as a serf for Charles and Ricky (their real first names until legal gets after me).  They are good one dimensional managers meaning they are excellent at managing crisis.  If a worker only carries a hammer, everything looks like a nail—if there is not a crisis, they can easily turn any situation into one.  This is the second job I’ve done for the large conglomerate (another name for a structure over a river to allow vehicle to pass, another name for rocks—no need to tempt fate when dealing with large international corporations, especially ones based out of Japan).  I only came back for this job for one reason which I can easily remedy from any cliff on this trip—Brad “Big Daddy” whom we met in Denver last night.  Since Brad might read this, I should probably stroke his ego a bit, after all, he is a manager and thrives on humus and money.  Brad is a manager that doesn’t fit into the company mold of make everything a crisis and then belittling any/everyone that tries to help solve that crisis while shortening the schedule and stealing project dollars to shore up some other mess that bad leadership has created.  Brad tries something so foreign to the company that I’m sure his days are numbered—he actually treats people with respect and gets additional help if he sees someone struggling.  Dead man walking!

Rodin’s “Brad the Thinker”

                Once again, I have taken care of all preparations for the trip so everything runs smooth.  Brad, even though he’s a manager, didn’t question or second guess any decision I had made in preparation for the trip.  Maroon Bells four pass loop is just a 30ish mile loop located between Aspen and Crested Butte.  We have decided to start from the Crested Butte side to avoid the larger crowds and parking issues on the Aspen side.  As the name implies, we will go over 4 passes each about 12,500’.  We started taking Diamox yesterday to ease any altitude stresses our flatlander bodies might encounter.  When I went to Nepal, I tried to NOT take any Diamox, but when we got above 14,000’ I started getting headaches and had difficulty sleeping.  I decided to not have anyone take any chances on this trip.

Up there in CO for a bunch of midwesterners

                We drove to Frisco, CO and stayed at the Hotel Frisco.  We got in after midnight which meant no one was on duty, but they had left keys in envelopes at the front desk to get into our rooms.  We slept in until almost 8 then walked around Frisco to check out the town and grab some breakfast.  Frisco is a great town with a quaint strip of a downtown with plenty of restaurants, coffee shops, and stores enough to satisfy any need.  It sits at about 9000’ and surrounded by mountains and close to ski resorts and ready access to nature.  I loved the place so that means I probably can never afford to live here.  After breakfast, we headed back to the hotel and repacked all of our gear and food so we were trail ready then hit the road.

                The plan was to catch up with Joan and Tom whom we met while hiking in the Grand Canyon last year.  They were the couple that joined us for supper on Plateau Point on the edge of the inner rim.   We had plenty of time for the 3 ½ hour drive down the “Top of the Rockies Byway” to Crested Butte via Cottonwood Pass.  Brad lives in Tennessee so he’s used to seeing some larger hills but I am still very impressed by mountains.  The beach doesn’t really do anything for me.  At some point, Pam and I will have to live in the mountains full time.  To break the drive up and relieve bladder pressure, we stopped for coffee and sweets in Buena Vista (we’ll burn off the extra calories this week). 

                Pam and I have driven to Crested Butte via Cottonwood Pass before when we went on a family vacation with her kids a few years ago.  I didn’t remember it being so far up or being a dirt road on the Gunnison side.  While we were up on the pass getting pictures, we smelled some hikers approaching before we saw them.  These were some people that had been out a while.  We started talking to one college age guy, Jack, who was solo hiking.  Actually, he was doing a 160mile loop on the Continental Divide Trail and the Collegiate Mountains with his dad and brother, but they had other commitments so they had to stop after a week.  He asked if he could get a ride down the pass so he could resupply and get a shower.  I’m always glad to help a hiker—hopefully, someday we’ll get to do some long distance hiking and we’ll have some good karma built up in the bank.  We told him it’ll be crowded because we were pretty full of gear, but if he didn’t mind holding his pack on his lap, no problem.

                We finally got to Crested Butte around 2p.  After finding a parking spot, we started walking down Elk Ave and happened upon Joan and Tom.  We went to Camp 4 Coffee for real coffee and the flavored crap that the women like.  This was the first time Brad, Joan, and Tom had met so we just sat around talking to get acquainted with each other.  Joan and Tom had checked into getting a shuttle up and over Schofield Pass.  Pam insisted we could drive ourselves but I was still skeptical.  We stopped in the Alpineer to discuss the road with people who knew the area.  I’ve been over Scholfield before, but only walking.  As I recall, it was extremely rough with a nice vertical fall into Emerald Lake.  The last time we tried to drive up the area, Pam ended up backing the car back down because I got too nervous and had to get out.  She insisted her dad has driven this pass several times causing me, once again, to question Bill when I get in a car with him driving.  Several people in the store told us it was open and no problems—if we had 4 wheel drive we would be fine.

                Everyone tried to convince me that we could do it.  They were pumping me up and told me all I needed was a good meal to build up my confidence.  We walked by an empty restaurant and decided to get a steak meal for our “last supper” before Curtis plunges into Emerald Lake.  I went up and asked for a table for 5.  They directed us to a table in the full sun.  I asked if we couldn’t move over to a shady table, all the while thinking I was just being polite since the place was absolutely empty, as in not one customer there.  He refused to let us move because every other table was reserved.  3:30 in the afternoon and they had no customers!  They obviously didn’t want our business.  I’m pretty sure this was Elk Avenue Prime and if they don’t have lousy yelp reviews, I will give them one.   Pitas in Paradise was very happy to take our money and bring us great food and beer in exchange.

It would be great to live in Gothic or Crested Butte

                It was no longer possible to avoid it, we had to drive over Schofield Pass and park at the trailhead.  We got a short reprieve at the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory for the girls to get a final bathroom break.  The drive up to the pass isn’t bad until you pass the turn for Emerald Lake.  Everyone was telling me I’d be fine.  I had a death grip on the steering wheel and waited for another car to take the lead up the final mile of road.  The worst nightmare scenario would be having to back up to allow another car to pass me heading down.  I figured we would all die together if they were wrong.  This is probably the first time in my life I was not looking forward to saying “I told you so”.

I don’t mean to spoil the cliff hanger, but we made it up

                After 3 days of agonizingly slow climbing over the pass, we made it.  I won’t have to worry about digging a hole for a few days because I puckered up pretty tight.  People were lined both sides of the road as I crested the pass with hands over their eyes, cringing with relief that we had made it alive.  Or maybe it was only 10 minutes and we got up there with about 40 other vehicles (obviously, there are a lot of idiot drivers in Colorado).  We pulled into the lot as a shuttle was heading out—I definitely wouldn’t want to ride in a 15 passenger van going over what we just did.  My original plan was to park before the climb up the pass and walk an extra 3 miles to the trailhead—that plan had quickly gotten vetoed by all parties.

Our camp at the trailhead

                There’s a sign-in box at the trail head and lots of camping in the area.  There’s no charge (yet) to hike the 4 loop pass.  We set up camp and built a fire.  Brad had bought a new antigravity Osprey pack and the lightest synthetic bag on the market (if Brad does something, he jumps with both feet and gets the best).  I loaned him a platypus, sleeping pad, hiking poles, tent, and fleece jacket.  I did have him carry some of our food, but Pam and I carried the rest of our group gear.  Since he was travelling light, he had the option to bring a few luxury items:  he brought enough cigars for everyone to have one (every night), a 5 pound bag of M&Ms, and a flask of bourbon (I told him to leave his gun home—apparently there are penis issues at play here that I can’t fathom).  Brad was the only cigar smoker tonight, but the bourbon and M&Ms hit the spot.  It was only right for us to lighten his load since this was his first foray in the mountains.

Helping to lighten Brad’s load

Day 1 Sunday – West Maroon Trailhead to 1st camp past Frigid Air Pass (6 miles)

                Up and on the trail by 9:30—a pretty impressive feat for us considering the size of the group and unfamiliarity with each other.  The trail starts out as a gentle climb through the woods for the first ½ mile but it doesn’t take long for us to figure out that Tom is in much better shape than we are.  After talking with him a while, we found out he’s a hardcore cyclist and rides 25 miles every day during the week before he does his real workouts on the weekends.  I wish we could use the excuse that Brad and I are engineers so we have a natural disinclination to exercise but this doesn’t hold true since Tom is also an engineer.  We’ll have to settle for the fact that we are electrical engineers and are required to spend much longer hours working to correct all the problems that the mechanicals create resulting in reduced exercise time availability.  Tom is mechanical; mystery solved.

Brad, Tom, Joan, Pam, and Curtis at the trailhead

                Once we emerge from the woods we come into a flower filled valley like I’ve never seen.  Crested Butte is the home of an annual wild flower festival every year which Pam and her family have been coming to for over 30 years.  This year’s festival was last week but it was rainy.  This is the first chance for a sunny week so it looks like we’re getting the flowers at peak time.  It’s beautiful and sun shiny so I’m not happy.  I don’t like hiking in full sun without shade and the approach trail to the four pass loop is 3 miles of all sun.  Add in that we’ve only been at elevation for one day and two nights and we’re not really acclimated yet.

                The hiking order is quickly established: Tom is way out front cruising (Tom and Joan have been in Colorado for a week already to buy a retirement piece of real estate), Joan and Pam are next in line, with Brad and me pulling up the rear.  Pam and Joan are excited about all the flowers and haven’t seen each other for almost a year so there is a lot of clucking in front of us.  They may have thought Brad and I were dragging but, in reality, we were just trying to drop back far enough to get a little quiet and take in nature (that’s my story and I’m sticking with it).

The only way Brad and I can talk is to drop back

                At 3.5 miles we actually join the trail.  We have chosen to do the trail in a clockwise loop.  We can see the back side of West Maroon Pass to our right but we choose to go left (only after we eat our lunch).  The elevation where we join the main trail is already about 11,700’ and Frigid Air Pass is the lowest pass at only 12,415’.  The valley between West Maroon and Frigid Air has no trees at all.  Fortunately it’s only about 2 more miles to the pass. 

                We stopped as a group for a snack before tackling the pass.  We can see snow to our left as we turn to head up.  I decided I was going to keep up with Tom as we made the final climb up the pass (about 300’ in the last ¼ mile) and I could have done it if some young kids hadn’t passed us up.  Tom is like my ex-father-in-law on the interstate; he doesn’t mind driving slow, but he can’t stand to have anyone pass him.  Tom turned to me and said “Let’s show them what a couple of old guys can do” and, boom, he was gone.  I tried to keep up for a few more steps and then decided the only thing this old guy could show them is how to have a massive coronary on a mountain side so I throttled back to my normal pace.

Pam contemplating the immensity of the trail
No trees on this side of Frigid Air

                That little push cost me bad.  The last time I was hiking over 12,000’ I had been hiking for over a week on the way up there and was well acclimated—not so this time.  I had spent all my reserves for that little testosterone episode.  As we hiked down the pass, I kept dropping further and further back.  Tom and Joan were almost ¼ mile ahead of us when they got to the first snow pack.  Pam had decided to slow down and hike with Brad and me for a while.  I think she might have been slightly concerned about me since I still haven’t created a will which gives her a vested interest to make sure I survive these little trips.

I really did push ahead–at a cost!
Lil ol’ Bunny T at the pass

                When we finally got to a section of woods, we were all dead (by we, I mean Brad, Pam, and me).  Tom still had his afterburners open full bore.  He saw the first campsite was closed for recovery and he rocketed on down the hill.   We mutinied and said we were stopping.  Just below the closed campsite was another crappy, but established site.  Joan dropped her pack and started running down the trail to retrieve Tom.  By the time she caught up with him, he had made it another ½ mile down to the creek.  They came back up and were very apologetic.  We should have discussed our plans a little bit better in advance.  If there had been trees, we would have stopped before the pass just for the acclimation.

Tom and Joan lead the way down

                Even though the site was very slanted, we didn’t care.  There were seats around a fire ring and a nearby creek so we had all we needed.  We cooked supper and got ready for bed.  Brad had a cigar and offered all around, but with the way I was breathing, additional lung damage was not on the menu for the night.  We did help him lighten his M&M load.  No campfire tonight, just bed.  I thought I heard Brad crying in disappointment from his tent.

A little uneven, but we’re too tired to go on
Cooking supper now that we’ve finally stopped
Our view from camp

Day 2 Monday – 1st camp past Frigid Air Pass to base of Trail Rider Pass (6.5 miles)

                A campsite on a slant is not a good way to spend the night.  At least I had the foresight to take the uphill side so I wasn’t squished all night.  Unfortunately, Pam is not a passive sleeper.  If she feels compressed, she believes people are trying to steal her oxygen and she makes free use of elbows.  If Pam is ever attacked on the street she would probably crumble in a heartbeat as long as her attacker doesn’t put a hand over her mouth.  If they make the mistake of interfering with her air flow, you are looking at a dead attacker.

A pair of glasses we found and a stub of Brad’s cigar left as a tribute to the hiking gods

                Every time I got an elbow in my side, I decided I might as well get up and pee rather than wait until I start dreaming of water (my usual cue).  As you can guess, I didn’t get a lot of sleep but I did get up without my usual sense of urgency to head to a tree.  Since I was sleep deprived compliments of Pam, I was more high strung than usual.  As anyone that knows me well will attest, I am usually an extremely laid back, take it as it comes, never ruffled person.  Today, Pam insisted on me taking an Ativan.

One last look back

                We’re already slow going in the morning so if you want speed, it’s probably not a great idea to medicate Curtis.  We finally got everything done and got out of camp by 10a.  Everyone will be relieved to hear that my sphincter has finally relaxed enough from the drive over Schofield Pass to be fully functional again so I’m walking with a little more pep in my step today.

Talking of peppy walking

                The first 4 miles were all downhill so it was a pleasant walk.  When we got down to the meadow at the low point of the valley, we ran across a lone hiker that had somehow gotten turned around and didn’t know which valley he was in.  He didn’t have any food or even have a map with him.  I can’t remember who suggested we ask if he had any money on him—with 5 of us we could easily over power him and no witnesses.  Instead, we showed him on a map where he was and offered him some water, but he said he was fine.

The meadow where we ran across the confused hiker

                Not too much further, we came to a stream crossing which required us to switch into our water shoes.  While our feet were drying out, we decided to have some lunch.  Pam never eats enough when we’re hiking.  She claims that she can’t hike with a full stomach.  I think she doesn’t like to acknowledge that we need 4-5000 calories a day and tries to maintain eating at 1500 out of spite when I tell her to eat more.

As close as we get to bathing

                Back on the trail, we stay bunched up for a while.  We run into a couple in running shorts and fanny packs.  We are about as far from a trailhead as you can get on this loop.  Turns out that they are running the trail in a single day.  Not only that, this is a very popular trail for doing just that.  This is a level of fitness so far out for anyone from Missouri that I can’t grasp it.  Pam’s brother lives in Boulder and the people tend to be more fit there.  We just can’t wrap our heads around the level of activity that makes you want to run 30 miles in one day.  In Cape Girardeau, 30’ to Andy’s Frozen Custard seems to be the norm (and often that 30’ proves to be too much so the drive through is pretty busy).

Joan and Tom leading the way
A beautiful valley for a run

                Our lunch spot was at the low point of the valley.  We’ve got a little over 2000’ to climb in the next 2.5 miles and it’s a steady climb.  I’m guzzling water and Pam is getting a little light headed.  This is also the first time we hear Brad say “How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?”  Pam almost goes down (so hard for me to not say “I told you so” when I was trying to get her to eat more at lunch).  I talked with Joan and she told me she had some extra Gu.  I didn’t know what it was but if Pam will take it, I’m all for it.  Tom gave Pam a rootbeer Gu and after a few minutes she was raring to go.  This is definitely something we need to start carrying since Pam doesn’t like to eat during the day.

                We stopped for water in another mile and then it was my turn to die.  After the water break, I had no energy left.  As we climbed a rise in the trail, we could see a steep trail switching back and forth across a mountain.  They told me that was Trail Rider Pass but I didn’t want to believe them.  Sadly, we kept turning towards it.  As I became more convinced they were telling me the truth, my energy ebbed more and more.  I was definitely the weak link today.  Pam, in the interest of future beneficiary status, said we have to stop.  There’s a nice campsite in a clump of trees at the base of the pass.  That night we camped at over 11,500’.

It wasn’t too long after we got water that I became part of the walking dead
I was glad to stop before the pass

                Once again, we skipped the campfire, but Brad had his cigar while we were setting up camp and cooking.  This spot was great except for one thing—the trail was literally all we could see hanging over our heads for first thing in the morning.  Tom and Joan told us they were going to have to take off in the morning and leave us in their dust.  They had to get out by Thursday and we were in no hurry to get out before Friday.  They had kept the return shuttle reservation for 3p and it was obvious we were only going to hold them up (they weren’t that callous, that was how I interpreted it).  They had to be back in Minnesota by Saturday to help move their daughter and they were driving.

Tom and Joan watching for alpine glow

                We sat around after supper and watched the sunset, but it quickly cooled off when the sun went down.  Once again, I thought I heard Brad sobbing from his tent when we went to bed.  He really wanted a campfire.

That clump of trees is the “outhouse”

Day 3 Tuesday – base of Trail Rider Pass to beaver pond after Snowmass Lake (4.5 miles)

                “I’ve got stretch marks on my bladder” as Brad emerges from his tent.  Surprisingly, he was last up and it was only 6:30a.  Tom and Joan were already eating and wanted to hit the trail by 7 which they did.  We were boiling our water as we watched Tom pull further and further away from Joan.  We could monitor their movements all the way to the top.  Within 20 minutes of leaving camp, Tom was at the top.  Joan was another 10 minutes making it.  We never saw them again.

Our camp was in the clump of trees left middle of picture

                We ate breakfast and stared at the pass.  It really is impressive to see the trail winding back and forth up the side of the mountain but it gets intimidating when you see how small people look on it.  By 9 we were ready to go.  As I’ve said before, Pam is a slow but steady climber hence we put her in the lead.  I was feeling a little better today so I just wanted to get this climb over with.  After about 20 minutes of steady shuffling, we met an Indian guy and his dog coming down.  We asked if we were getting close and he kind of ignored us.  We asked again and he just smiled at us and said we’re making good progress.  After a third time, he told us we were about half way.  After he got out of earshot, I heard Brad “How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?”

Not too steep yet

                As we got closer to the top, I passed Pam because I was ready to be done.  I got up there about 5 minutes before her and dropped my pack.  Looking back where we had just climbed, I got a feeling of vertigo and the other side wasn’t much better but it did have grass along the trail.  The top couldn’t have been 15’ wide.  When Pam got up, she also dropped her pack and we sat and waited for Brad.  A few minutes later, Brad peeked over the top, but he wasn’t taking full steps.  He was barely moving like Tim Conway as the old man on the Carol Burnett Show.  He got up and sat down but he was definitely spooked by the height.  Once he’d recovered a bit, we started to take pictures but he wouldn’t move his feet more than 6” at a time and he wouldn’t lift them, just slide them. 

No, he’s not worthy of praise, this is just the way managers are treated where he works
Brad refused to get closer to us because we were closer to the edge
That’s Snowmass Lake behind us

                Once we started down the Snowmass Lake side, Brad slowly returned to normal the lower we got.  I guess we were all running on a bit of an adrenaline rush because even though the hiking down was easy, we were crashing.  After we’d gone down a mile or two, we ran into a 72 year old man that was solo hiking the loop.  I started talking to him and found out that he was a Buddhist and had spent several months hiking in Nepal including the Annapurna Circuit which I had done about 6 years ago.  I noticed Pam and Brad weren’t talking and Brad was shuffling from foot to foot (actually lifting them off the ground now).  The old guy told us that the worst place, by far, on the entire loop was about a 30’ stretch right at the top of West Maroon Pass.  I thought he was just being a little over critical.  Finally Pam and Brad both said we need to get going.

The view ahead

                We stopped for lunch in about another ½ mile by the only shade we had run across.  As we were talking at lunch two things came up from Brad: 1) He said I told him to only bring one change of clothes because he noticed Pam and I had both changed shirts today. 2) He thought he was very slow compared to us getting ready in the morning, so he wanted to get up earlier to not be a hold up.   In response: 1) I meant one additional change to what he was wearing.  But his clothes were still pristine, not a speck of dirt on them.  This is when it really sank in that Brad is a manager—let someone else get dirty. And 2) we’re not in any hurry so don’t worry your pretty little head over it.  We had noticed that Brad takes a long time to get ready in the morning.  I attributed it to his being somewhat prissy at times.  I could also imagine him unpacking everything in his pack and arranging it to admire that he was actually carrying all of this stuff on his own back.

I think Brad blew up ziplock bags to give his pack that full look

                As we got closer to Snowmass Lake, we came across a huge boulder field.  I came close to falling here.  It was a relief to be all the way down to lake level, but we didn’t actually go to the lake.  We wanted to push on and try to make it a good way up toward Buckskin Pass (or as Brad got me calling it, Foreskin Pass).  We ran into several couples around the lake that told us they had passed some really nice campsites next to a beaver lodge, dam, and lake.  It was early afternoon by the time we made it to the beaver dam so we sat on a fallen tree for a snack.  One drawback to the maps of the loop is that no campsites are indicated except for around Crater Lake.  We slowly talked ourselves out of climbing up to Foreskin Pass because we didn’t want to run the chance of camping in a dry site.  We decided we would camp in the first nice site we found.  As luck would have it, it was only another couple hundred yards until we saw a trail cutting to the left leading to a nice level site with seating and an established fire site—home for the night.

Snowmass Lake
Too many rules near the lake

                We set up camp and took a little better care with our bear bags tonight since we were at the lowest elevation we had camped at so far.  We were around 10,200’ but in a forest and not just a few trees.  There is bear activity around the loop, but mostly around Crater Lake because that’s just a short walk from the Aspen side parking area which tends to attract less experienced campers who can be a little sloppy.  Nonetheless, after supper I climbed up the side of our little hollow and hung everything with a smell except for my little surprise for Brad—Jiffy Pop popcorn.

Having a pow wow to decide to stop early and have a campfire rather than just make miles
The beaver pond across from our camp

                Bourbon shots by the campfire with popcorn.  Brad had a couple of cigars tonight and accused me of being whipped when Pam is around.  Truth of the matter is that I just don’t have the lung capacity developed yet to handle a cigar at this elevation. 

Campfire finally

                Rather than lower the trash bag out of the tree, I took the Jiffy Pop tin outside of camp and covered it with rocks.  We let the fire die down to a safe level and then went to bed.  It was already getting pretty cold.  In addition to our long underwear and stocking caps, Pam and I got our fleece jackets ready to put on in the night.  There was no whimpering coming from Brad’s tent tonight.

Day 4 Wednesday – beaver pond after Snowmass Lake to past Crater Lake (9 miles)

                It was still dark when I heard Brad shuffling his crap around in his tent starting to pack up.  “Go back to sleep, Brad.  It’s too damn early!”  As soon as I yelled his name, I heard him snort himself awake—all the racket wasn’t Brad after all.   Nonetheless, the rustling stopped so I went back to sleep.

                About 20 minutes later, the rustling woke me up again.  This time, I woke Pam up.  It’s always nice to have a witness to a bear mauling.  I unzipped the tent as quietly as possible and reluctantly stuck my head out.  I turned on my spot light and scanned the area.  I caught some movement in the shadows over by where I had stashed the Jiffy Pop tin.  Thankfully, it wasn’t a bear; just a porcupine.  I yelled at it and chased it off.  After I had secured the area, Brad stuck his head out of the tent and said that it had kept him awake all night.  All I can say is that he did a great job pretending to be asleep earlier with all the snoring coming from his tent.

Probably not the same guy

                The rest of the night was without incident.  Brad was feeling pretty good after having conquered (or so we had heard) the two toughest passes on the loop.  “Do you still think I’m prissy now?  I’m holding up pretty well, you’ve got to admit.” 

                “Yes, Brad, you’re doing much better than I thought you might have done.”

                “Do you think we could boil some extra water so I could take a sponge bath?”  In the course of a 2 minute conversation, Brad asked me to admit he wasn’t prissy and that he was tougher than I had thought he was and then to please draw him a bath at my earliest convenience—managers!

                After Brad’s sponge bath and back country spa experience, we continued the climb up to Foreskin Pass.  It wasn’t a steep climb, but it was drawn out almost 5 miles to climb the 2300’.  We did pass a couple of nice campsites higher up and water was plentiful most of the way.  Pam is always nervous on any pass after our experience in Olympic last year but this was the easiest pass we have gone over.  The last ½ mile is a cake walk—less than 100’ of elevation gain.  This side of Buckskin is more of a high meadow.  We passed a group of boy scouts coming down.  They were doing the loop counter clockwise in 3 day itinerary.

Brad, refreshed after his sponge bath, was a new man
Snowmass Mountain in the background

                On top of Foreskin, we peeled off our packs and sat on a small snow patch to have our lunch.  The mini-bears (chipmunks) were plentiful and begging for food.  They were obviously a pretty successful lot and well experienced—they were as fat as the average American.  It was also becoming apparent that even though Brad’s clothes were still spotless, they could not be considered clean when you noticed all of the flies that were hanging out on his back.

Like whenever I go out with Brad, this guy was eyeing his nuts
That’s not dirt on Brad’s back

                The hike down the Aspen side was not as pleasant.  It wasn’t steep, but there was a tremendous amount of scree which made us thankful for the hiking poles.  This four mile stretch convinced me that a counterclockwise trip might be better than the direction we were headed.  For me, it’s easier to walk uphill with all the loose rock.  Around 3p a runner passed us, but he was only walking.  He was very upset with himself for not having the energy to run the entire loop—he had less than 5 miles to get back to his car but he had run out of steam after only 10 hours of running.  Here we are 4 days to do about 8 miles less than what he did in 10 hours.  I wish I had the stamina to run the trail, but I’m not interested in flying over the trail, I want to go slow and enjoy every minute.  I just want the strength to do it.

Getting some water after the pass
Look carefully and you can see me in the tree–timer was faster than I was

                Once we got to the turn for the Aspen parking lot, there were multiple signs warning of bear activity in the area around Crater Lake with the most recent activity less than 2 weeks ago.  This confirmed my desire to not want to camp around the lake.  We ran across a ranger while we passing the lake and he gave us a bear prep pep talk.  We asked what the camping situation was further up the trail and he responded that there were sites stretching along the trail for a couple of miles.

At the junction to the Aspen approach trail
They’re here!

                According to Brad, this day was a death march (and I have to agree).  “How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?”  We pressed on for another mile and a half past the lake.  It started getting pretty rocky so we decided we had better stop at the next place that resembled a campsite.  We found a small level spot right off the trail and decided to stop.  It was cramped but we didn’t want to set up camp and cook in the dark so we took it.  Brad boiled water while I hung bear bags and Pam took care of getting our tent/sleeping area in order.  While I was hanging the bear bags, I found a really nice camping spot but everyone agreed not to move now.

Crater Lake which has about 10 campsites around it but easy pickings for bear

                There were three drawbacks to this site: 1) it was very small; 2) it was too close to the trail; and 3) it’s a dry camp.  We ate supper on the side of the trail.  It was a meal I was afraid of—chicken breasts and mashed potatoes.  I wasn’t afraid of the food, just Brad’s reaction to it because he has complained multiple times about going to weddings in Kentucky and this seems to be the standard fare.  Maybe it was the death march today, or just being out for 5 nights, but this was actually his favorite meal so far.  We finished off the bourbon after supper and I had my first cigar.

A cozy camp right next to the trail

                While we were finishing our cigars in the twilight, a woman and five kids came through camp.  She was carrying one child and the others were straggling around eating Cheetos out of a box.  She had a pack and a couple of the older kids had small packs.  She said they were going to try to make it over the pass, still.  It was almost dark!  We went to bed not too long after they passed.

Another beautiful sunset

Day 5 Thursday – past Crater Lake to West Maroon Trailhead (8.5 miles)

                Runners started passing our camp about 4:30a.  I take back my admiration of them and convert it to disdain.  With all the traffic, we got up pretty early—much earlier than I wanted.  We got packed up quickly and hit the trail in search of water.  We came to a small creek in only about ½ mile so we stopped to cook some breakfast and fill our water bottles.

We stopped for breakfast at first water crossing

                Lots of people stopped to admire the BioLite stove.  We also heard that there was bear activity in Crater Lake last night—a couple of camps had their trash and food attacked.  I look like a fricking genius insisting we push on past the “tourist area”.  Chickenshit outfit, my ass!

                I’m glad we didn’t do this leg of the loop first or I would have made my mind up that it sucked.  The trail wasn’t bad, just very crowded.  At one rest break I looked behind us and counted 16 people in sight within just ¼ mile.  This is the primary hiking route between Aspen and Crested Butte with people doing the 12 miles as a day hike then catching a shuttle down to town for one night and returning the next day.

This section was crowded

                I was finally feeling pretty good today—well-adjusted to the altitude and full of energy.  Maybe the cigar made the difference.  It was still a tough approach to West Maroon Pass for the last ¼ mile.  The old Buddhist was right—there is a very loose patch of trail right before the top.  Pam was leading and she just ran on by it.  Brad was about 20 yards behind her, but when he got to it, time froze.  He claims he was just out of breath, but he didn’t move for a solid 10 minutes staring at the trail.  Pam got worried and looked back down the pass to see where we were.  I kept telling Brad it was ok, just grab the rock wall and push on through.  I was right behind and Pam was in front to offer help.  Finally he got going and finished the final 50’ to the pass.

One last rest before the pass
Pretty rough near the top

                We spent about 20 minutes up at the pass taking pictures and eating snacks.  Brad was in a daze, but functioning.  Lots of people came through while we were up there including two older guys from California we had passed earlier.  We put our packs back on to head down the Crested Butte side and Brad kept asking if we got him in any pictures—he didn’t remember taking any pictures.  I still don’t buy that he was just catching his breath at the rough patch; he blanked out completely.  Once we got back down to a less steep section of trail, Brad said “If anyone took my son on this trail, I’d kick their ass.”  His son had asked if he could go, but Brad told him not until he got some hiking experience and now it looks like he’ll never let him go.

Snow field shaped like a bird–yes, marijuana is legal in CO
Brad doesn’t remember taking any pictures at the top
Our last pass–West Maroon

                After the pass, it’s all downhill to the trailhead.  But no trees!  I hate walking in the sun without any shade.  The flowers were still in full bloom, but they were starting to fade.  They were at their peak when we started 5 days ago.  When we finally made it to a small patch of trees, Brad threatened to throw his pack down with all of his shit in, he was never going hiking again.  I kept hoping he really would.  After I got the gear I loaned him, there were some nice items of his I wouldn’t mind having.  I knew he was too into lining every item up in his tent and admiring everything that he had carried to actually throw it away.

We could hear elk but couldn’t find them even without trees
Not as bad on this side

                The climb up the pass followed by full sun had taken it out of me.  I was dragging by the time we finally got to camp.  I was also thinking about the drive back down to town having to go over Schofield Pass again.  I might have to get another Ativan from Pam for the drive.  To delay the drive, I was pushing for another night of camping and they both agreed as long as they didn’t have to carry their packs any more.  We gorged ourselves at supper with whatever food we had left and had one last campfire. 

The flowers were still nice, but a little past their prime

                Our original plan was to get done early Friday so we were a little ahead on hiking.  Joan and Tom needed to be done by 2p today, but I’ll bet they were done yesterday (if not earlier).

End of the loop

Day 6 & 7 Friday & Saturday – West Maroon Trailhead to Denver via Dillon

                We had thrown most of our crap in the SUV except for our tents and sleeping gear.  We planned on eating breakfast in Crested Butte so it didn’t take but about 15 minutes to break camp to be ready to drive down to town.  I heard a shuttle in the lot and I was trying to get Pam and Brad to hurry up so I could follow the shuttle down past Emerald Lake.  I couldn’t get them to go any faster or get the shuttle to wait for me to follow him.  To say I was nervous misses the mark. 

I’d rather stay up here than drive over Schofield Pass again

                Finally, I got them into the car at the late hour of 7:15.  Another way to look at it might be that we got the earliest start of the entire trip, but that’s an optimistic outlook and I try to avoid being too positive.  I told Pam she would have to walk ahead of us and stop traffic from coming up since she was the last one ready to go.  When we got to the pass, we could see all the way down to the turn and there weren’t any cars.  I decided to press on.  Worst case, I’d drive off the cliff into the lake.  Water landings can’t be too bad—hadn’t a plane landed in the Hudson River a few years ago with everyone surviving.

We made it

                Imagine the relief of finally going to the bathroom after being constipated for a week and that will give a small glimpse of my comfort level of not passing a car coming down.  The drive into town was a breeze.  I don’t know why Pam and Brad got so wound up.  We made it to the hostel a few minutes before 8a, bought our showers, and experienced pure bliss.  Nothing compares to modern comforts after a few days in the back country.

Crested Butte ahead

                Empty digestive tracts, clean clothes, fragrant bodies, and an absence of flies; we were ready for our return to mainstream civilization.  We parked downtown and walked to the Sunflower for breakfast.  It was perfect weather which prevented us from going inside.  We waited for one of the 3 outside tables to open up.  After breakfast, I was on a mission to find the pizza place we had eaten at a few years ago, but when we went to the location I remembered, it was now a coffee shop.  Brad and I stayed for coffee while Pam went souvenir shopping for her kids.  I talked to one of the girls behind the counter and she told me where the Secret Stash had moved to—right where Pam told me, but I’ve lived in MO for too long; I had to see it for myself.

                Even though it had only been a few hours, we had to have a pizza before leaving town.  Heavenly!  Even Brad got a few ideas for future za’s.  Brad is a closet chef and pretty good the few items that he’s actually shared with me.  At least he knows the talk.

                We took a different route out of the valley; over Monarch Pass and drove on down to Dillon for the night.  We found a Best Western that had a couple rooms left.  We walked over to Pug Ryan for supper which Brad generously bought for us.  A steak for him, salmon for Pam, and shoe leather for me (people often complain about the way I like my steaks cooked).  After a bottle of wine, we walked down to the lake to listen to a sunset concert until the chilling temperatures drove us to bed.

                On Saturday morning, we went back to Frisco for breakfast then Brad and I camped out at another coffee shop while Pam did more souvenir shopping.  We still had time for a leisurely drive to Denver with a stop for pizza along the way in Idaho Springs.  We even had time to visit REI before heading to the airport.

                We had a pretty successful trip.  We didn’t push ourselves too hard on the loop, but that’s not our goal.  We averaged between 6 & 7 miles a day which is a comfortable rate for us, especially when you factor in that we live at sea level (more or less) and spent the entire loop above 10,000’.  I do think the diamox helped us to acclimatize.  I feel too many people underestimate the effects of altitude.  I can no longer call Brad prissy.  This is the toughest short loop we have done to this point but amazing vistas and wildflowers make it well worth the effort.  From now on, I will only refer to Brad as having a few prissy tendencies (please draw me a sponge bath).