Day 39: High up in the San Juan's

Mileage: 14.3 (702.6-716.9)

I forgot to mention yesterday about the hole. We were right on top of the ridge when I noticed a big hole dug into the side of the mountain. At first I thought it was a crevasse, but we weren't on a glacier, and so then I thought an animal. All of a sudden I felt very scared. I'd been reading my book about Grizzlies in the San Juan's and remembered they dig holes high up in the side of mountains to hibernate in the winter. Do I know there was a grizzly inside the hole? No. But my hair stood up on end and I felt we needed to get the hell out of there. Who knows, but it does feel good knowing there are bears out there ... as long as you're not too close.

I also realized this morning we'd camped next to the headwaters of Rio Chama, the large river we had crossed about a week back, right before Ghost Ranch. We traced it all the way to it's life blood: the icy snow of the San Juan's. 

Today was the hardest fourteen miles I've ever done. We post-holed through the snow almost the entire day. In the morning the snow had an icy crust that broke only when you put all your weight on it, which actually saps your energy much faster than if it just broke right away. By the afternoon, we were slogging through snow with the consistency of mashed potatoes, which it turns out is easier than breaking through the ice crust. 

Yet, all the trouble was definitely worth it. Every corner we turn and peak we ascend affords us a new angle on the neighboring mountains and valleys. One word we used over and over again was 'epic'. The peaks are tremendously sheer and razor sharp, making us wonder how many humans have ever been on top. Surely you'd need climbing ropes and gear for many of the peaks we saw. And then to walk in 20 miles from the nearest road.

It was a perfectly blue sky day, which was wonderful for viewing the peaks, though we did get a lot of sun both from the sky and reflecting off the snow. Around midday we ran into some White-tailed Ptarmigan on top of a mountain we climbed to avoid deep snow. They were just walking very slowly away from us, depending on their splendid spring camouflage of mottled brown and white. If they wouldn't have moved from their snow beds, we never would have seen them, just assumed they were rocks in the snow. They are tremendously beautiful birds, one of the few adapted to live above 10,000 ft. They stayed so close to us it would have been easy to get one with a rock - we were within five feet a few times - but that wouldn't have been fair as it seemed like these particular birds were just as curious about us as we were about them.

By around 5:30 we came to Blue Lake and found some much needed water by digging down with my trekking poles and scooping out the snow and ice. We found we've been getting dehydrated much easier up here with the sun reflecting off the snow. 

After we made dinner we pushed on past the lake to get a head start on tomorrow's ascent to 12,400 ft. day steep slope climb. We both wished we had a third person. Today we barely managed 1 mph with all the deep snow. With three people we figured we could do 1.5 mph, which over the course of the day is a huge difference.

Around 8pm we started looking for a campsite and Karma suggested some trees near a cliff. I was worried about rock or snowfall so kept going. We had to skirt around below the cliff - it was pretty steep and completely covered in snow so it was pretty difficult after the long day. We had to kick steps into the snow for safety. It was only after we made it to the top that Karma and I both wished we had taken out our ice axes.

After the one last exhausting climb we cowboy camped under the stars in a bed of spruce boughs to keep warm.