We started hitching after deep fried huckleberry French toast at the diner. It took awhile but at least it was a blue sky day. We'd met our buddy Malarky from Northern Ireland the night before and he was heading out with me and Commando. We had decided to take an alternate route up Dawson Pass, which was supposed to be prettier. Unfortunately, by the time we got up there the blue sky had been conquered by the legions of clouds. And there was snow at 6,400', far below where we'd top out more than 1,000' higher.
We found sketch, deep steep snow and ice around Mt Morgan with bitter, strong winds howling in our faces. And we were seeing grizzly prints everywhere in snow. It felt like we were back in the San Juan's except now there were Grizzlies and I wasn't nearly as mentally prepared. The trail itself was only 18" wide in most places, so the snow covered it completely, making it not only nearly impossible to follow, but also quite treacherous.
Steep snow chutes funneled down to sheer cliffs hundreds of feet below and none of us had an ice axe or crampons. We took turns breaking trail, frequently stopping to warm our freezing hands. After a particularly scary section where I was breaking trail waist-deep in snow, we finally reached Pitakamin Pass and joined back with the CDT. We saw other parties headed up the way we came and were slightly annoyed that they were taking advantage of the trail we broke in all their winter gear, especially since they were day hikers, returning to somewhere dry and warm this evening.
Steep snow chutes funneled down to sheer cliffs hundreds of feet below and none of us had an ice axe or crampons. We took turns breaking trail, frequently stopping to warm our freezing hands. After a particularly scary section where I was breaking trail waist-deep in snow, we finally reached Pitakamin Pass and joined back with the CDT. We saw other parties headed up the way we came and were slightly annoyed that they were taking advantage of the trail we broke in all their winter gear, especially since they were day hikers, returning to somewhere dry and warm this evening.
We headed down and down from Pitakamin, and it felt like very long time before the snow finally disappeared. We took our first break of the day at snowline and all of our bodies ached after having a few days off and then pushing so hard.
Below the snow line, everything turned green and water rushed everywhere, down waterfalls, and through creeks, and bubbling up from underground springs. It was warm and pleasant, almost like the morning was just a horrible nightmare, back in the San Juan's in southern Colorado.
We ran into some day hikers before Triple Divide Pass, who had broken at least some of the way up to 7,500 ft. As we ascended the wind picked up but at least we were following tracks uphill, instead of breaking like earlier in the day. The trail clung to the side of the cliff as we looked down on the sprawling Grizzly Medicine Lake in the deep glacial valley below. Thin, braided waterfalls tumbled down the sheer cliffs across the valley and on top of the trail.
The clouds began to lift as we neared the pass and we ended up with some spectacular views from Triple Divide Peak, whose summit sent waters east to the Atlantic, west to the Pacific, and north to the Hudson Bay. We traced the rocky spine of the naked divide as it made it's way north, thankful we weren't tasked to walk on top of it sheer, icy backbone.
Below the snow line, everything turned green and water rushed everywhere, down waterfalls, and through creeks, and bubbling up from underground springs. It was warm and pleasant, almost like the morning was just a horrible nightmare, back in the San Juan's in southern Colorado.
We ran into some day hikers before Triple Divide Pass, who had broken at least some of the way up to 7,500 ft. As we ascended the wind picked up but at least we were following tracks uphill, instead of breaking like earlier in the day. The trail clung to the side of the cliff as we looked down on the sprawling Grizzly Medicine Lake in the deep glacial valley below. Thin, braided waterfalls tumbled down the sheer cliffs across the valley and on top of the trail.
The clouds began to lift as we neared the pass and we ended up with some spectacular views from Triple Divide Peak, whose summit sent waters east to the Atlantic, west to the Pacific, and north to the Hudson Bay. We traced the rocky spine of the naked divide as it made it's way north, thankful we weren't tasked to walk on top of it sheer, icy backbone.
The cliffs were textured with a dusting of snow, revealing every contour and bend in the bands of granite. On our way down the north side there were no more tracks and the way was steep and full of snow. Though nothing as bad as traverse around Mt. Morgan earlier in the day, wading through hip deep snow.
Again, it took longer than it should have to get out of snow from Triple Divide, but we couldn't find a campsite anywhere - and our designated one was still miles away. We hiked on in the dark, making noise as we went, to scare off any curious Grizzlies. Around nine, well after the sun had melted below the horizon, I saw a small flat-topped hill and suggested we camp there. We'd seen a lot of bear sign that day and I didn't want to run into any grizzlies at night. We setup camp in utter exhaustion and were in bed by 9:30.
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