I headed up the trail at 7am, already later than I wanted. On the lower mountain, below tree line the snow was awfully soft and even with snowshoes I kept sinking down to my waist. It was frustrating at times. Initially I tried to break trail across the forest but it was impossible. Later on I found a snowmobil trail that went in the same direction so I used its compacted tracks to get closer to the ridge line. A bit more strugling and careful stepping and I was finally above tree line on more stable snow. At this point I switched from snowshoes to crampons, something I feel more comfortable with. Most people climb this entire mountains on skis but I prefer crampons even though they're not really necessary. It's just what I'm used to.
I couldn't have picked a better day for this climb. All around the weather had been great but today it was better than ever. Not one single cloud in the sky. Warm sun. No wind. It was just magnificent. Two hours had gone by when I reached the first exposed plateau on the ridge. Perfect spot for a little break and some sightseeing. At this point two backcountry skiers and their dog caught up to me, a clear indication that this is not a highly difficult climb. I move ahead while they take a break themselves. Another thousand feet up we meet again. Always making sure to put one foot in front of the other I slowly move up the ridge. It was indeed one of the most beautiful days I have ever climbed on. At about 13,000 feet I start to feel the shortness of breath so I start taking more frequent breaks. Water and candy bars give me that extra kick I need and I feel good again.
I reach one last plateau on the ridge before attacking the last slope that leads to the summit, now a bit more steep than before. I drop my backpack and tie it to some rocks just in case, and use its top as a fanny pack around my waist. Inside I keep just the bare essencials: water, some food, gloves, hat, and first aid kit.
Climbing high mountians I believe, is all about rhythm, pacing, consistency. If you take too many breaks you fall behind too easily. If you try to hurry it you'll burn out and possibly die. It used to take me a while to find my rhythm but nowdays I pretty much know what I have to do, give or take a few minor adjustments. And that's where I was at this point on the climb. One foot in front of the other; one hard breath every step; every ten steps or so two or three breaths and this way I steadly moved up the last, steeper slope towards the summit.
Aproximately 5 hours after leaving the trail head I'm standing on the top. 14,265 feet (4348m) high up in the Colorado sky. It is indeed a superb day and the 360 degree view is magnificent. The summit isn't any wider than a king size bed and on either side it's a drop of more than 2,000 feet. I sit down for a while, eat some granola bars, drink some water, and take some fotographs. I wander around the narrow summit ridge for about 10 minutes and then start my descent.
The snow is soft and the ride is easy. Now I know why crampons are not used as often around here. The soft snow accumulates underneath and it snow-balls making it prone to ankle twisting. Back where I left my backpack I remove the crampons and walk down on my boots but soon the sun is too hot, the snow too soft, and it becomes impossible to walk on so I strap on my snowshoes again. I take a little side trip and I'm back at the car by 3:30PM.
What a glorious day in the Rockies!