La Plata Peak {14,336'}

La Plata Peak {The Silver Peak}; Sawatch Range

Elevation: 14,336’

Route: Southwest Ridge

RT distance & time: 7 miles; 6.5 hours (including photo & rest breaks, plus summit time)

Monument Plant (green gentian): flowers only once in it's 80-year lifespan

Located in the Sawatch Range between the towns of Leadville and Buena Vista, La Plata Peak is the 5^th highest mountain in Colorado at 14,336 feet in elevation. Its name means ‘silver’ in Spanish, which is likely due to the silver deposits found in the area as well as the nearby silver mining ghost towns of Winfield and Hamilton. I have to say, besides sunrise on top of Mount Belford, this was my favorite fourteener hike to date. I am also happy to report that we did not encounter any navigational issues which, after Humboldt last month, made for a relaxing and stress-free climb. La Plata was #17 for me, #14 for Justin, and #2 for Kona, who just turned one year.

Since it was Fourth of July weekend, one of the busiest in the high-country, we decided to climb La Plata via the slightly less popular Southwest Ridge route. We also opted not to camp the night prior to our hike, which is unusual for us. The dirt road to the trailhead requires a high-clearance vehicle and attentive driving to avoid significant potholes, ruts, and rocks … and to arrive at the trailhead without making any wrong turns. The trail is somewhat steep at the outset as it follows a stream but, quite quickly, we reached an expansive meadow above treeline with a view of the ridge. Here, we encountered willows, snow fields, water, and a muddy mess; Kona loved it. Upon reaching the ridge ascent, we decided to follow an alternate path upwards. Though steep, our route was quick and did indeed connect us to the ridge at a point closer to our next uphill goal.

Justin in the muddy willow basin; SW ridge view

Kona in the stream that parallels the trail

As we began switchbacking and boulder hopping up the north/northeast slope, several people were heading down; one guy informed us that storms were building on the east side of the peak, and that we were still an hour and a half from the unseen summit. Justin and I looked at each other with an unspoken agreement that we would continue unless conditions became sketchy (this turned out to be an excellent judgment call). From here, it probably took us an hour to reach the summit, and skies were clear and blue above us. I could see darker clouds surrounding Huron to the south, but we were in a perfect pocket of sunshine complete with superb 360 degree views and summit solitude. 

We cheers’d (can you make that into a verb?) to cooperative weather and the serenity atop Colorado’s 5^th highest peak with a Samurai rice ale compliments of Great Divide. I’m not sure anything can top the views from La Plata – we could see Elbert and Massive directly to the north; Huron, Missouri, Belford, and Oxford directly to the south (as well as Yale, Columbia, and Harvard in the distance); and even the Elks to the west. 

Just as we were preparing to depart, two guys arrived from the Northwest Ridge route. They were very friendly, and it was nice to chat with them for a few minutes; they’d begun hiking at 5:30 that morning and finally made it to the summit around 2:00pm - talk about a long day! Fortunately, the route down was uneventful for us; Justin fell on his ass twice descending the “normal” trail back into the basin, and I slid once into a dense collection of willows. Perhaps this section of trail is in need of some maintenance … Kona was excited to play in the mud once again, and the car was right where we left it when we returned. Most likely a result of climbing Half Dome two weeks ago, as well as backpacking a decent number of miles throughout Yosemite, I felt in great physical condition and my legs still have not succumbed to post-climb soreness. All in all, one of the more pleasant hikes … and undoubtedly the best views!

Alpine flowers along the ridge (Sayres Benchmark is the prominent peak)

On a more serious note: I am sincerely sad to hear about the recent deaths of Makana and Michael Von Gortler on Missouri Mountain (a 14er within a few miles of La Plata). This news is truly heartbreaking, but it’s also terrifyingly relevant to me and all other backcountry hikers. Something like this can happen to anyone at any given time on these peaks regardless of experience level … simply put, nature always wins … especially above 14,000’. Not only must we respect our own limits, but we must respect the mountain and understand that we are temporary and greatly inferior visitors. Four deaths within a week on our peaks …Rough start to the season before it’s even officially begun. Prayers and prayers.

… Hopefully I can now find motivation to write about ten days in the Sierra Nevada …

Humboldt Peak {14,064'}

Lesson learned: Even on climbs that appear straightforward, STUDY YOUR ROUTE!

It never crossed my mind that to reach the summit of Humboldt, a fourteen-thousand {plus} foot peak in the Sangre de Cristo range, we would have to bushwhack our way up the east ridge without the guidance of a trail. Thus, as a consequence of getting somewhat disoriented, we likely added an additional four miles on top of the round-trip eight .... and our day was completely consumed with frustration and exhaustion from climbing this mountain. Yet, sweet summit success and a checkmark next to #16!

My boy, my pup, and I drove south from Denver at 2:30 Friday afternoon to the Sangre de Cristos, near Westcliffe. Although it was nowhere on my radar (nor my original list), we chose Humboldt because it was least likely to have significant snowpack this early in the season and it's one of the easier peaks, comparatively, (which was beneficial for two out-of-shape individuals and an 11-month old pup's first 14er attempt). The road up to the Rainbow Trailhead was a bit rough; I probably wouldn't recommend it for 2WD cars. We chose a perfect campsite and, since June is somewhat early to climb mountains, we really didn't encounter any people. Following dinner, a game of bocce, some guitar playing, and several shots of rum (Justin's contribution from Grenada), we were all fast asleep.

I thought that printing the route description out and bringing it along would have been enough to keep us on track .... however we soon ended up two miles too far on the Rainbow trail; apparently we missed our unmarked cutoff. I didn't even know it was unmarked! Turns out, I really didn't do a good job of researching the route at all. Instead of backtracking the entire way, we began our steep and rather sideways ascent of the northeast ridge. Eventually it connected to the east ridge and, after passing through several snowfields, we made our way above treeline. Our next goal? A massive grassy incline, at the top of which we finally had a view of the summit (so damn far away, as always).

In reality, it didn't take too much time to gain the summit from this point. We did descend a bit to the left of the ridgeline in an effort to avoid snowfields on steep terrain, which resulted in a pain in the ass (literally) climb up near the end. It was so windy on the summit that we probably lasted 15 minutes before starting back down {enough time for Kona to take a nap, and for Justin and I to share a victory amber ale before snapping a few photos}.

The Crestones

Kona's first 14er!

Despite having a clear view of the east ridge that would lead us back to the Rainbow Trailhead and our car, we managed to complicate the situation. Somehow, we hiked much further south than intended ... and seriously struggled to return before darkness set in. During the ordeal, I may have shed a few tears of frustration, my sunglasses succumbed to the South Colony Creek, we were forced to cross the damn water three times (after arriving on an island by mistake), and my feet and legs were ridiculously sore from navigating over rocks and becoming ensnared in brambles and thorny bushes. All this time, unbeknownst to me (thank God), Justin was worried about disturbing unsuspecting moose in their swampy territory. Finally .... finally .... we stumbled across the trail and, soon after, our car; a most welcome sight. It was completely dark by this point. I am happy that our efforts paid off in summit success, but lesson learned: Even on climbs that appear straightforward, STUDY YOUR ROUTE!

Pawnee Buttes

I had originally made an attempt to post this entry a week ago – I thought I had been successful, I mean I swear I saw it a few days later, but apparently it disappeared? Anyway, I shall try again.

Pawnee Buttes

Northeastern Colorado doesn't particularly evoke images of idyllic campsites, nor is it a place where I'd prefer to spend much of my time - I've driven through the region en route to Indiana on multiple occasions ... there's nothing there! Well, that's not entirely true; it's the location of Pawnee National Grassland.

 

In the early 1900's, the now desolate towns of Keota and Grover were once booming as homesteaders and settlers migrated to the area in search of grazing land and farming opportunities. In 1918, the population of Keota peaked at 140 ... before the onset of a deadly influenza epidemic, several droughts, and frequent periods of inclement weather producing tornadoes, deep snows, and hail. Farms were literally blown away as this "Dust Bowl" area became a virtual desert.

A record amount of snowfall has found its way onto our mountains this year, which means that it's still too chilly to enjoy camping anywhere beyond the foothills. So, Justin and I (as well as our pup, Kona) traveled east to the grasslands on Mother's Day weekend in anticipation of warm weather and pleasant conditions. However, instead of warm, we found hot - I mean, above 80 degrees hot! It was also windy - as grasslands typically are. But, we managed to find an ideal windless campsite, and even a few splotches of colorful wildflowers on the yucca and cacti-studded terrain. Once the sun began to set, everything became unusually still ... I have never experienced a peace and quiet like it. We slept sans rain fly with a prime view of the stars above, and upon waking felt extremely refreshed and well-rested. Initially viewed as a lesser alternative to mountain camping, Pawnee is unique and desirable in it's own right and I do want to return when the landscape is just a bit more lush and green.

 

Liberation

A few random, albeit important and somewhat profound, thoughts have been taking up space in my mind for the past few weeks now. I'd wanted to do each one justice (in the form of one blog post per thought), but time is not on my side while the MCAT looms over my head. So, this entry will serve as a forum for which the contents of my mind will arbitrarily pour out, giving no precedence to any one issue.

One. The world is too large. Until recently, I have perceived this to be an unfortunate yet undeniably true fact. A person may be well-read (that is, they have gotten their hands on a wide genre of reading material from varying fields of study, literary movements, and cultural backgrounds); well-traveled (they recognize value in the customs and heritage that define any given location, while also spending time in said location); or well-versed in music and art (they have acquired an appreciation for different styles, approaches and techniques). However, it is impossible for such a person to read every well-written book, visit every interesting place, listen to every great song, or see every beautiful piece of artwork; the world is simply too large. This fact is particularly true when we account for the not-so-good books, places, songs, and artwork that we encounter. So, what to do? Really, this isn't so unfortunate - it's liberating! The pressure is off to finish that huge stack of unread or unfinished books ... we must simply take our sweet time and thoughtfully explore each one we get a chance to pick up. More importantly, to me anyway, is the ability to take pleasure in each place we visit - to learn the culture, speak with the people, and allow ourselves to be transformed by the experience. I came across an NPR article about three weeks ago that I found to be an enlightening read. Not only did it address this anxiety of mine about the world being too large, but it opened me up to the idea of surrender (from which liberation naturally emanates). Enjoy!

The Sad, Beautiful Fact That We're All Going To Miss Almost Everything

Two. Osama bin Laden is dead. This concept is a bit hazy in my mind; I'm not quite sure how I feel about it yet. The dominant emotion seems to be sadness ... but isn't that opposite of what nearly every other American is feeling in response to this news? Maybe. It's difficult to express ... I'm taken immediately back to 9/11 - to the firefighters, to the victims, to their families, and to our country. I feel sadness. Of course, I do believe this represents an important 'victory over evil' for America, but I want to be clear that it shouldn't be considered a victory built upon revenge. It's a victory steeped in pride, patriotism, and love for our country. Perhaps many of us will see this as a sort of closure, but the image of a man who was shot in the head for what he did will never evoke happiness for me, only sadness. 

Three. What is art? It was not until my freshman year of college that I noticed how much this question perplexed me. As a medieval studies major, I made my way through Gothic Art, Medieval Art, Northern Renaissance Art, and even Modern Art; I spent a large part of my time looking at and discussing artwork as well as visiting various museums and galleries. While I couldn't argue with the exquisite detail and obvious beauty in more classic works, I had every problem with modern art. I'd always thought of it as 'non-art' - most of the pieces appeared to be so simplistic that anyone could slap something together and call it art. What I had yet to learn were the influences behind the style - modern art is now fascinating to me. But, we can still ask what establishes art as 'art' ... Aesthetics? Skill? Creativity? Emotion? Truth? The artist's intentions? The viewer's perceptions? Who knows!? Arguments can be made for and against each of these characteristics, plus some. I guess the only thing I can say for sure is that art is by no means an absolute; there are not really objective criteria for which to judge. Just as each person perceives beauty differently, each piece of artwork will shout 'beauty' to some and 'ugh' to others. So, I am no closer at answering my own question; but I am also no longer perplexed by or concerned with it. Rather, I am merely happy that art exists in this world, and okay with the fact that I won't get to see most of it :) 

Four. On poetry. I came across the following words in one of my MCAT verbal passages the other day, and I think they're profoundly beautiful (thus, worth sharing). A bit on the random side, but somewhat connected with my discussion on the way artwork can be defined:

'There are many who are not gifted with the power of giving expression to the deeper sensibilities, who nevertheless experience them throbbing in their hearts. To them poetry appeals'

Wine, Food & Relaxation: the heart of Napa Valley

Despite three-hour long MCAT classes twice a week, and studying madly in between, I realize that I should briefly address my recent trip to the west coast (primarily through photos). The week can be described in a few simple words: wine, food & relaxation - everything a true vacation should be. We dined at world-class restaurants (including Bottega and REDD ... we decided to skip the notoriously overpriced French Laundry ...), tasted ridiculously good wine of many different grape varieties, and visited several interesting and unique vineyards during our stay in Yountville.

Domaine Chandon

Quixote Winery

Wine, cheese, olive oil, and chocolate tasting at Gabrielle's private estate & vineyard ~she also makes her own organic lavender products~

Napa Valley offered us a lovely time; I am happy to say that each visit to this region (November 2008 and now) left me feeling both refreshed and energized. From Napa, we drove through Sonoma and Point Reyes, where we opened a bottle of chardonnay on Limantour Beach, to San Francisco. Dan and Traci are doing so well, and little Bryce is the most adorable baby I could possibly imagine! It was such a treat to spend time with family that I don't see all that often :)

Enjoying a bottle of wine at Point Reyes National Seashore

Golden Gate Bridge

A gorgeous California poppy

California is a lush and beautiful place; I look forward to returning in June :)

'To find a queen without a king, / They say she plays guitar and cries and sings ... la la la'

Going to California (Led Zeppelin)


Welcome to Yountville

The link above will tell you anything you'd like to know about Yountville, California (at the heart of Napa Valley and, of course, wine country). I have been looking forward to this vacation for several months now, primarily because I'll be traveling with my parents. This is the equivalent of luxury - an idea I was somewhat accustomed to growing up ... an idea that has been overshadowed in recent years by a greater desire to explore the unfamiliar and exotic, to learn about the world on my own ... on a budget.

We leave on Thursday morning, and will be spending our first four nights at the Vintage Inn in Napa Valley. My father is an internist at Kaiser Permanente, and his well-chosen neurology conference is making this stint in gorgeous wine country possible. Thanks, Dad :)

On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, we'll be in San Francisco visiting my cousin Dan, his wife Traci, and their new baby boy, Bryce. I love this city and, despite getting violently ill on my last visit, I cannot wait to return! Dan and Traci are two of my favorite people on earth, and I am so anxious to meet baby Bryce (the photos and videos that I've seen are ADORABLE, and I don't typically find babies cute).

So, I guess I'm going to California!

The Colorado Renaissance

No, I'm not talking about the Renaissance Festival in Larkspur, but something far more interesting ...

Bishop Castle seen from Highway 165

Considered the most impressive one-man construction project in the country (and, so claims Jim Bishop, perhaps the world), Bishop Castle is a testament to determination, beauty, obsession, and insanity ... in the most bizarre way imaginable. The castle itself is located in the mountains of south central Colorado, west of Pueblo, and is the still unfinished outcome of Jim Bishop's physical labor and creative musings, and Jim Bishop's alone.

When he was fifteen years old, Bishop purchased land for the price of $1,250 and began construction on his castle in 1969. Now, the castle features intricate wrought iron walkways and bridges that weave between its towers, spiral staircases, a fire-breathing dragon made of recycled hospital trays situated at the apex of the great hall, and stained glass windows ... all made by hand without the use of machines. But a castle cannot be complete without a moat or a dungeon ... Bishop's latest ongoing projects.

Although it can be seen on an official map, and even labeled on nearby road signs, you won't find Bishop Castle in any Colorado travel brochure, which is entirely due to the tension that exists between Bishop and the government. The man is known for passionate political and anti-government rants as well as his crude language; various signs throughout his property display these viewpoints.

The guy may well be off his rocker, but his work is undeniably incredible. As I climbed up narrow staircases en route to the highest towers, I couldn't believe I was putting all of my trust, and my life, in one man's hands. But it was absolutely worth every second - go experience this place!

The highestmost point on Bishop Castle ... WAY up there

Details: The castle is open every day during daylight hours, and it is free (donations requested). Bishop spends about seven months of the year working in his iron shop in Pueblo, otherwise he can be found on site, still building additions to the already ridiculous structure.