September 1st
What a change a day makes. The morning was crisp, quiet and I knew it would be a great morning. With my headlamp on, I clumped my way over to the trail. In the process I came within 10 feet of stepping on some car campers sleeping under a tarp. Oops.
The creepy car from last night was on the road. My guess was the person needed to sleep in their car for some reason.
There was not clear tread. Mostly the first hours of the day were spent walking between trail posts every 400 feet or so. It was high country. Winter Park ski resort came and went in the distance on the west side, while sheer cliffs revealed snow-fed lakes almost directly below on the east.
Around 10:00, I started the climb up James Peak. At 13,300 feet above sea level it would my highest climb so far. Incredibly, I passed a couple on the way up. I also nearly stepped on a group of ptarmigan that were on the trail.
I also reflected on my friend James (I know him as Jim) for whom this peak was portentously named. Actually, I have no idea of the name source. Anyhow, Jim and I met in college and were great friends. One of the smartest and funniest people I would meet in my life. He was the best man at my wedding. We had done two backpacking trips together: once in Oregon during college and then once again in Minnesota when I moved back there. In between, life had come along. Moving, careers, kids, etc. Because he’s such a dedicated attorney and husband, I had not been able to lure him into all or a portion of this trip. It would’ve been great to climb this peak with him. I also reflected that, on an actuarial basis, we probably have less future years to hang out than the years passed since college. As motivation, I promised myself if I made it to the top I would do my best to drag Jim out somewhere on a consistent basis to do smart, dumb, or even inert things. Life is short and getting shorter.
I did reach the top. It was amazing to see all the surrounding mountains. Besides the couple I passed, there were two other people up top. Later, I passed them on the way down and we visited briefly. One was a dentist and the other was a retired gentleman named Kent who still climbed 14ers. Very inspiring to meet him out here climbing peaks that truly challenged me.
I followed the trail down. Perhaps because of private property concerns, the trail seemed to take an elongated trip back down to the forest, across the Fall River and then come back up again. Although the trail seemed to only get use by CDT hikers, there was some impressive engineering on some of trail walls.
This is about the point in my Colorado blog entries where I mention the skies darkening. Sure enough, as I reached Bill Moore Lake(11,300) the rain started. My challenge was that I needed to get over Breckenridge Peak (12,900) and Mount Flora (13,100) to reach my goal of Berthoud Pass in five miles. I filled up on water, ate a Snickers bar, and set out.
Initially, it was just drizzle. About halfway up Breckenridge Peak, the thunder started rumbling in from the south. By the time I topped out, the clouds overhead were a very nasty shade of dark grey and the lightning to the south was visible. I could turn around or go for it. I went for it. Struggling to keep a steady pace, I cleared the saddle and began climbing up Mount Flora. Out of breath, I reached the top, found the register, made a quick entry, and left.
Almost immediately, the skies opened up with cold rain and wind. I had on all my waterproof gear and my umbrella but I was still getting drenched. Nevertheless, I did count my blessings:the lightning did stay to the south.
As I approached the abandoned ski resort of Berthoud Pass, the rain stopped. A highway ran through the pass. I found a stealth campsite away from the road and the rest area. I knew all my stuff would still be wet in the morning, but there was nothing I could do about it and instead reflected on how lucky I was to have beaten Thor. This day.
backpacking over the hill 