Stevens Gulch: Round Two

Upon our return from the desert, and as the endorphins began returning to normal levels, Gigi and I began to dream of mountain oases high in the alpine tundra. Green grass and high tides precluded the plausibility of going sledding in Boulder. Alas, to sled in the veritable spring-summer hedgerow that has become of our backyard would be impossible! Rather, we forged an alliance to head west, once more, and pay homage to the 14ers that be. It was decided - we must attempt to hike Grays and Torreys! The vertigo and disillusionment that was brought upon our shared house was almost too great of a burden to bear when I returned unsuccessfully from my last summit push on these worthy steeds of granite. With my best girl by my side and a backpack adorned with all the finer things that Clif Bars manufacture for mountainside edible deliciousness, we decided on the morning of May 26.

 Ah.... May 26. It was a tremendous day in the history of our relationship because we were both out of bed before 6:00 AM! At the very least of things, we had this ace up our sleeves should the day turn against us. Gigi's great and noble spirit had been roused prior to the time of the sun's quarter journey across the summer sky by the sweet aroma of coffee, knowing full well that she must wake up in order to imbibe this nectar of the gods. It did my heart good to know that in the event of a weekend zombie apocalypse, I would not have to wait until 9:30AM to rouse her and make way to our secret mountain compound. She's a real keeper.

We arrived at the trailhead around 8:00 AM. There was a line of parked cars extending a quarter mile down the access road from the trailhead. I'll be the first to admit that I tend to "forget" to shower when I'm trying to get in touch with nature, but before we opened the windows there was a veritable musk in the air that could put Ron Swanson ill-at-ease. Not to say any names or anything, but if you're reading this and wondering if it was you in the late-model blue Subaru... check yourself. Even the marmots complained of your odor.

However, we made the best of the situation and made a bee-line for the trail. Our goal for the morning would be the highest point on the continental divide through the contiguous US!

The morning alpenglow pressing over the ridge of McClellan Mountain. The smoke blowing in from the New Mexico fires magnified the effect.

The view from the car. It seemed that the whole county had descended upon the trailhead this morning, yet we managed to squeak out a prime parking space. You can see Grays Peak peering over the foot of Kelso Mountain, just left of center. 

Isn't she cute? What an epic mountain woman!

As we ascended into the bluebird sky, we made a game of trying to find the most varied species of flora and fauna along the trail. Gigi obviously beat me at this game. I had forgotten the golden rule: it is never a good idea to challenge a biologist to counting small life forms in an isolated space. We did manage to find a mountain (or is it alpine?) sunflower along the trail, though.

Unfortunately, we did not make it to the summit, and were thwarted by ice and snow at approximately the same elevation that Nathaniel and I were thwarted on May 5. However, we did enjoy a rather lovely nap on the side of the trail - lulled to sleep by the serene sounds of other hiker's footprints. We had officially gained the talus field right before the apron, and sat to watch a group of hikers wrestle with the wind as they tried desperately to pack away their tents at the bottom of Dead Dog Couloir. Winds on the trail (and on a side note, apparently everywhere in the high country this Memorial Day weekend?) were exceedingly harsh. Although were were well prepared for warm or cold weather, our posse was caught off guard by the severity of the wind elements at hand. This only compounded the issue of balance on the icy talus and so we were content to sit idly at 12,500' in a large pile of rocks.

We talked and listened as young lovers do best. I acknowledge the severity of poor form we exhibited, but we threw small rocks at different targets in the talus. It was great fun - some smashed, some jumped, some made it waayy down to the snow field, etc. Last week, when I wanted so badly to throw stuff off the cliff, I held back. I am happy to say that my partner is a far worse influence on me than Nathaniel and Mark were, and it was terrific fun. I am always put at ease to see Gigi smiling while on the side of a mountain with me.

The reader may note a lack of photos from this trip. This is because our camera spontaneously ran out of batteries on the trail. The reader may also note the lack of references to Yeti and pro wrestlers we had to fight off along the way. Although these mountains thwarted my approach a second time, they did so valiantly and well-within the rules of chivalry. I have tried in earnest to report the particulars of this adventure in their clearest and most specific form. We made it back to the car a little after noon and headed down to Silverthorne for some Memorial Day sales, and then up to Breck for a nice end-of-student-teaching vacation in the mountains.