High Adventure #2

I was a member of Explorer Post 360, sponsored by IBM and led by Phil Smith. Our 1977 high adventure -- the second in which I participated -- was a hike among the Never Summer Mountains.

Even though I was one of the youngest members of Explorer Post 360, it somehow became my responsibility to plan the trip.  I fulfilled the duty with characteristic economy: I chose a backpacking trip, because it involves a minimum of advance planning. Once packed, you just go there and do the thing. Even so, I did undertake the required planning, including choosing the route and choosing the menus.
I had a large collection of topographic maps from all over Colorado, so I thought it would be rather fun if the starting location and direction of the hiking trip were determined by chance.  A few rolls of the die would establish the starting latitude and longitude within reasonable limits, and few more would choose the direction of travel as a compass heading.
The first few die rolls put us in inhospitable places (of which Colorado has quite a few), but eventually I derived a set of coordinates that plunked us down near Bowen Creek at the eastern entrance of Rocky Mountain National Park.  The next die roll sent us off nearly due north from there. As dictated by fate with a bit of human intervention, our high adventure would be a hike along the Never Summer Range.  A few adjustments were made to accommodate the terrain, like using trails and mountain passes rather than going cross-country, scaling sheer cliffs and the like.  The final route started at the Bowen Creek Trailhead and took us over Bowen pass, Baker Pass and into the valley of the Lower Michigan River. Another unnamed pass took us into the valley of Silver Creek.  The final pass below Mount Richthofen took us into the valley of Agnes Creek and out to the Cameron Pass Road (CO 34).

Never Summer Range and Specimen Mountain
from the head of Forest Canyon

The Never Summer Range is intriguing for many reasons.  Its name alone evokes something unattainable, and this is reinforced by views of the range from Trail Ridge Road.  There they stand, off in the distance to the north and west, often shrouded in clouds and rain and where no road goes.  It is also interesting that the Continental Divide, after running north through the center of Rocky Mountain National Park turns around at the head end of the Kawuneeche valley and head almost due south through the Never Summer Range.  The Never Summer mountains also define the western boundary of the park.

The logistics involved some of us leaving a car at the top of Cameron Pass and then driving a second car around through Randle and Granby to get to the Bowen Creek trailhead. The rest of the group would go directly to the trailhead and wait there.  I rode with Kiyoshi in his maroon Mustang while Charlie drove his white Ford station wagon. The water pump in Kiyoshi's car was leaking, so we had to stop periodically and fill it up with water from a nearby creek (the Cache La Poudre River). We stashed Kiyoshi's Mustang at the north end and then drove south in Charlie's station wagon.  On the trip back through Willow Creek Pass, I drove the station wagon for part of the way. Charlie remarked that he wasn't sure how much longer 2nd gear was going to last in that car. He didn't mind leaving his car at the trailhead unguarded for a week because he figured noone would consider it worth stealing.That much is true, but when we returned at the end of the week, he found that some people had smashed out one of his rear windows. There was also nothing in the car worth stealing, so his theory was that some kids thought the car was abandoned and used it for target practice.

The hike was a tale of attrition from the start.  We set off on the trail with eight people: Phil Smith (leader), Charlie Hart (assistant leader), Mark Chance, Laura Headrick, Kathy Humphreys, Kiyoshi Akima, Phil's nephew and me, but ended up with only three.  A short distance into the hike, Kathy complained of being short of breath and unable to continue. A tent was set up so that she could rest. It was decided after a short time that Mark and Laura would stay with Kathy and then hike out the next day. It had been arranged from the start that Phil and his nephew would hike out on Thursday -- down the Michigan River valley and out to the highway. From there, they would hitchhike back to Granby and recover Phil's Blazer from the Bowen Creek Trailhead His nephew was attending a band competition that Saturday in Colorado Springs. That left just Charlie, Kiyoshi and me for the last two days.

The trailhead was just where the jeep trail at the bottom of Bowen Creek became impassable. The first part took us up the jeep trail. It was a hot day and there wasn't much shade; it's not surprising that Kathy was suffering from exhaustion at least. The bottom of the Kawuneeche Valley is already at 8800 ft. above sea level. We had hiked less than a mile before Kathy was all done.

The Meadow

As the reduced party of five continued, the jeep trail vanished and we found we were hiking cross-country. We came into a beautiful open meadow, filled with wildflowers, and I snapped my first picture of the trip.

The shadows in that picture are rather long, which suggests that we camped the first night close to that spot. The next day, we hiked up over the ridge and into the Bowen Gulch. The next picture shows the vista north toward Bowen Pass. That was the next landmark on our trip.

Bowen Pass

The picture of Bowen Pass is from high up on the west side of Bowen Gulch, near Bowen Lake. I don't remember now whether we actually started hiking up Supply Creek and crossed from there into Bowen Gulch. During the early part of the trip, we were at relatively low altitude. It also seemed that we were going cross-country (i.e. without any discernible trails to follow).
We were in a moderately open pine forest, but there was a lot of deadfall and not many game trails to follow. At one point while straddling a log, I lost my balance and fell over it on the downhill side.  There was a little stub of a branch which caught under my belt, so I ended up hanging upside-down facing away from the log. I was almost completely helpless until two of the guys came over and got me unstuck.
Somewhere in Bowen Gulch, we picked up a trail. We followed that over Bowen Pass and into the next valley.

Charlie Hart at Bowen  Pass

 We didn't get very far below the pass before deciding to camp for the night. It happened that there was a small creek in that spot, with a thick bed of moss growing along it. I chose to roll out my sleeping bag on the moss. It made a nice soft bed, but perhaps a bit moist.

A bed of moss

Looking back at Bowen Pass from the North

One of the ideas for the trip was that on days when we arrived early enough, we could drop our gear and take side trips up one or more of the Never Summer Mountains.

From the pictures, it appears we were hiking toward an unnamed pass below Fairview Mountain. We keep close to the same altitude as we moved around the east end of the valley.
As we crossed a rockfall  close to where this shot back toward Bowen Pass was taken, I saw a flash of yellow. I caught a glimpse of what was either a ferret or a weasel before it dived out of sight among the rocks.  I had never seen a mustelid in the wild, so I thought that was a special treat.

The Illinois River Valley, looking West

The valley we were in at that point is the extreme upper reaqches of the Illinois River Valley. The next photo is a view down the valley toward the west.
Even though we were in the wilderness, the general feeling was that we could -- in an emergency -- just head west and eventually find our way out to civilization.
On the far side of the next pass, we dropped down into Baker Gulch. Our best route through Baker Gulch was again more-or-less following the contour along the west side of the valley. The southernmost peaks of the Never Summer Mountains -- Mount Nimbus, Mount Stratus and Baker Mountain -- dominated the skyline to the east.

Mt. Cumulus, viewed through Baker Pass

 The two cloud peaks have a craggy, sawtooth shape. In contrast, Mount Cumulus has a broad profile (as shown). It was visible and easily distinguishable for much of the hike, so we could tell fairly accurately where we were and how far we had come in the day.
We were still behind schedule when we crossed Baker Pass. The best approach to the summit would have been to ascend the ridge from there and then continue north to the summit. But the timing did not favor that plan and we pressed on.

Nimbus, Stratus and Mount Baker

Near Baker Pass, I paused again to take a photo back the way we had come. The first frame shows Nimbus, Stratus and Mount Baker, looking almost due south.

Bowen and Fairview Mountains

The second frame is a pan right from the first, showing the valley below Baker Pass (Baker Gulch). The triangular promontory between the two is unnamed. (An insignificant 12,250 ft. hill, I guess.) The summit of Fairview Mountain is just visible to the left of the ridge that juts into the right side of the photo. Although almost 300' taller, Bowen Mountain (the rounded, craggy peak in the distance) appears shorter.
We followed the trail down from Baker Pass into the valley of the South Fork of the Michigan River. We hadn't been bothered by mosquitos much up to that point. We had camped at or near timberline, and I suppose there was a steady breeze to blow them away.  In the bottom of the Michigan River Valley, however, they were thick. I remember killing two or three at a time just by closing my hand around them. Somehow, we managed to get dinner and then dive into the safety of our tents.

Ascending the ridge toward Mt. Cirrus

The next day, we ascended the ridge again toward Mount Cirrus. The next photo shows the crew climbing the steep switchbacks. Kiyoshi is in front with Phil's nephew close on his heels. Phil is back down the slope a ways and Charlie is bringing up the rear. We reached the top of the ridge earlier enough that we could take a side trip to the summit of Mt. Cirrus. The two adults waited while the three boys went to the top and back.
It was raining lightly as we ascended the summit. I kept thinking we would need to turn back an any time, but the weather held long enough reach the summit and enjoy the spectacular views.

Trail Ridge and Lake of the Clouds

I took several photos from the top of Mt. Cirrus. They are filled with nostalgia. The first frame is looking almost due east toward Trail Ridge. Part of the route of Trail Ridge Road can be made out, both above and below Milner Pass. In the foreground is the romantically-named Lake of the Clouds, 1300' below Mt. Cirrus but still 2200' above the valley floor.

Long's Peak in the distance

The next photo pans south from there, looking over the arm of Howard Mountain toward Long's Peak, which is partially obscured by the clouds.

Long Draw Reservoir

Then I pointed the camera northeast toward the headwaters of the Cache La Poudre River. My eye was caught by the body of water which I later identified as Long Draw Reservoir. My photo of the Lake of the Clouds just barely shows that there is flume running along the contour far below the lake. The Grand Ditch flume draws water off from the creeks that feed the extreme upper reaches of the Colorado and diverts it through La Poudre Pass to the reservoir.

Lead Mountain Tepee Mountain and Mt. Richthofen

My final picture is looking north toward Mount Richthofen. I noted as I took the shot, that Mt. Richthofen has a false summit some distance to the west of the true summit. This information proved useful later on.

After reassembling, we headed down into the valley of Silver Creek. We camped again at relatively low altitude, near the road that would take Phil and his nephew out to the highway.
The following day, Thursday, Phil and his nephew split off and headed down the valley. The remaining three of us started climbing the bowl toward Tepee Mountain and the lower slopes of Mount Richthofen. We camped above timberline at the bottom of the scree fall below Richthofen.

As we ascended the screefall toward Rainy Pass on Saturday morning, it began to mist. There was a steady drizzle by the time we reached the saddle. At the top of the pass, we considered the situation.  I was in favor of skipping Mount Richthofen (we wouldn't be able to see anything but clouds from the summit), but I was in the minority: In spite of the weather, we would ascend the peak.  We cached our heavy packs and started up the ridge.
There was a brisk wind out of the northwest, and the western ridge below Mt. Richthofen is mostly east-west.  As long as we were exposed on the ridge, the wind from the north kept spraying us and adding wind chill. It wasn't long before my down parka was completely soaked through and useless. I had attended several presentations on hypothermia and new that I was at risk.  At the point that I could not take the exposure any more, I ducked below the ridge, out of the wind on the south side. I found it was much warmer there, so I decided to wait there until my companions returned.
A few minutes later, I heard whooping and hollering above me on the ridge, so I summoned up my energy reserves and pressed on. A couple hundred yards up the ridge I dropped into a small bowl with the other two hikers at the top of the ridge. We had reached the false summit. Recalling the terrain from two days before, I was sure we were not at the true summit. Yet given the conditions it seemed there was not much to be gained by continuing forward.
Whether or not my companions were aware that we had fallen short of the stated goal, I resolved to keep my knowledge of that fact to myself. When we we stood up again we were all facing west, which suited me just fine. By tacit agreement we were heading down. After we got below the pass, the rain lifted and the weather got steadily warmer. It was not raining at all when we got back to Kiyoshi's car.
We drove around again through Willow Creek Pass, so Charlie could recover his station wagon and then we could all head home. There was an exciting moment as we crested one hill on the dirt cutoff between Gould and Rand. It had been raining at the lower elevations as well, so the road was muddy. Going down the steep grade, Kiyoshi lost control momentarily. We slithered all the way across to the edge of the embankment on the other side and then all the way back as he overcorrected. Finally, he recovered control and on we went, much relieved.

I hosted a reunion dinner two weeks later at my apartment, so we could share the stories of our separate adventures. I had gotten the idea because there was a fair amount of food left over after the trip, and I need a way to use it up. Although I bought fresh ingredients for the main part of the dinner, dessert was a peanut butter chocolate cake with maple syrup frosting made entirely from leftovers.