Monday, August 5, 2013

August 2013 Update - La Plata Peak


NNAOPP Update
August 2013

Every once and a while, you catch a break.  In my case this came when I serendipitously learned that July 27, 2013 happened to be National Day of the Cowboy, and there was a yodeling and cowboy poetry concert held to honor same. The location of the event just happened to be in a large machine shed on a ranch in the Flint Hills, near Manhattan, KS, and the date and time coincided with the timing of our scheduled 14er trip to Colorado. 

Next to a professional whistling, I can't think of anything more pleasing to the ear than cowboy yodeling.  The headliner of the concert was none other than Judy Coder, last year's winner of the Patsy Montana International Yodeling contest.  We would quickly concur that this was an honor well deserved

The warm-up act was cowboy songster and poet Jeff Davidson.  It amazes me how many gifted people are out there performing their craft in relative obscurity.  From him we learned the origin of the word, "gringo."  It seems that the Anglo cowboys riding herd on Texas cattle en route to Kansas railheads loved the song "Green Grow the Lilacs" and sang it often.  The Mexican vaqueros often comprised a portion of the crew of drovers, and they were puzzled by their counterparts' love of this strange song.  So they called them 'green grows'. 

In between acts we were treated to a tasty BBQ dinner and to recitations of cowboy poetry.  We shared a table with some nice people from Overbrook, KS.  Of the 125 or so people in attendance, all but two were dressed in jeans with big belt buckles, cowboy boots and hats.  Judy and I stood out in our distinctly non-western, suburban, summer attire.

La Plata Peak

The days leading up to a 14er climb comprise a mixture of anxiety and excitement.  Negative thoughts abound. "Has my training been adequate? Will I become a burden to my comrades? Is this really worth the effort?" On the flip side, fond memories linger from earlier climbs of the glistening dew adorning the aspens, the thrill of breaking out above the treeline, the wildflowers dotting the alpine meadows, the elation upon reaching the peak, and all the while pausing to reflect on the grandeur of God's creation.

We rendezvoused in lovely Buena (pronounced bewna) Vista, CO, a town nestled on the banks of the Arkansas River lying in the shadow of the Sawatch Range, home to fifteen of Colorado's 14,000-ft peaks including Massive, Elbert, Huron, Harvard, Princeton, and Yale, and to La Plata Peak, 14,336' this year's choice for our antediluvian cluster of climbers.

Our group once again featured our lionhearted captain, Fred, along with last year's new members, John and Dave.  Dave's wife, Shannon, also joined us, lowering the average age and increasing the comeliness of our band of striders.    All were in good spirits as we met at the town's elegant Super 8 for refreshments and headed to the Eddyline Cafe for an early dinner.  The bonhomie of the reunion with friends and fellow climbers washed away any pessimistic thoughts.  Our only concerns were weather.  It had been raining intermittently all day, and the forecast was for more of the same the next few days.

On Friday morning we rendezvoused at 4:45 am and were on the road to the trailhead.  Predictably, the last 3-4 miles were bone jarring in the extreme.  Fortunately, Fred's Ford Explorer had mountain tires and high clearances and capably got us to the trailhead at 10,700' at 6 am. It was 42 degrees when we departed, as glimmers of daylight revealed a cloud-covered sky.

The recent rains made the trail was slightly muddy and the vegetation sparkled.  It had been a wet July so the greenery was dense and lush, particularly at the lower elevations.  According to the 14er's guide, the southwestern route to La Plata Peak was 3.5 miles in distance with a 3,636' ascent, exactly 1' of ascent for each 5' distance, about the incline of the lower deck of Royal's stadium.  It was relatively steep from the trailhead to the treeline, but we made good time, and everyone appeared to be hiking strong.  The wildflowers were uncommonly bountiful and colorful, owing to the abundance of rain.

Emerging from the treeline we encountered a dense forest of Barrenground Willows through which we hiked for about one half mile.  A narrow trail had been cut through the woody plants making passage possible along a muddy path.  The willows towered over us, so it was impossible to see more than a few yards ahead.  I was following Fred fairly closely when the path widened through a boggy stretch.  Fred went to the right side of the trail seeking more suitable footing, and I unwisely chose the left, whereupon my left foot sunk into the mud over my high-top boot.  I was fortunate to not lose my boot when pulling it out of the muck.  Bootlessness in the Rockies is not to be desired.

Coming out of the thicket we came to a gently rising stretch of grassy bog dotted with tiny alpine ponds.  It was relatively easy, but squishy walking.  Then we reached a steep wall of scree and loose rock forming a bowl cresting at a saddle that was the entry point to a rocky ridgeline leading northward to the peak.

We were hiking from the east, and, as the sun rose from behind, we could see a continuous stream of gray clouds converging from the west.  At one point we viewed the false summit leading to La Plata Peak totally shrouded in a dark mist. We were concerned about lightning, but decided to proceed to the saddle to gain a better view of the weather coming out of the west before deciding our course of action.  It was an arduous climb.  Fred later noted, "The 500-foot wall leading up to the saddle may be the hardest stretch I have encountered on any 14er."

We reached the saddle, about 13,000', at 8:30 am, (John took a picture of his watch that showed our elevation, barometric pressure, time, and temperature).  We'd come about 2.5+ miles, a fairly fast pace for our group.

The skies were dark and ominous, so we pondered our options.  We were feeling pretty strong after the ascent up the bowl, and it appeared we had now done the heaviest lifting in getting to our goal.  It was 44 degrees, and the wind was blowing 20-30 mph from the west when we came over the lee of the saddle, adding to the chill.  We estimated we were less than a mile (an hour of hiking) from the summit, but we were at least an hour and a half above the tree line and any form of shelter.  

Fred wisely observed, "There's less than a 1% chance of getting fried, but that's too high."  We saw other climbers a few hundred yards ahead of us that were plodding on, but we headed down.  A passing hiker reminded us of the bronze plaque set on the ridge leading to Mt. Princeton memorializing a hiker killed by lightning.  We needed little persuasion.

Fred said he had never seen worse looking weather so early in the morning during any of his seventeen climbs.  I agreed, although working from a smaller sample size.  It's uncommon for a storm to gather so early in the morning in the mountains, but on this day they did.

I decided that since we had done 90% of the heavy lifting getting within hailing distance of our goal, that we could count La Plata Peak as .9 of a 14er, thus 6.9 down, 47 to go.  When we got back down to the trailhead Fred asked if anyone wanted to try again tomorrow.  He wasn't joking.  All declined politely.

In spite of failing to reach our objective, it was a beautiful climb.   We were never away from the comforting sounds of rushing water; we caught a glimpse of the surrounding panorama from the saddle; and we again tested our abilities.

My training and acclimatizing was adequate, so I felt strong.  Had the weather not interfered, it would have been a relatively easy jaunt to the top. My regimen wasn't meaningfully more rigorous than in year's past, so I believe my improved condition was a consequence of having consumed large quantities of Gatorade before and during the early portions of the hike and to the vitamin B tablets I'd taken.  (Thanks Ben for the training tips.)

We returned to the trailhead around 11:30 am, ate the lunch originally intended as the summit-reaching-treat, drank a few bottles of Moose Drool, a tasty Missoula, MT ale, and consoled ourselves in the failed attempt by noting that we all returned safely.

Jim, our intrepid but absent comrade, astutely wrote upon learning of our decision to abandon the climb, "There are old climbers and bold climbers, but there are no old, bold climbers."

Trip captain, Fred who will celebrate his 73rd birthday in a month, is scheduled to climb another 14er next week, Mt. Sherman, with his 13-year old grandson.  Adding even more luster to his manly, mountaineering prowess, he told us that he has been working as a volunteer this summer with the forest service maintaining trails near his home in Steamboat Springs.  This involves hiking 3-5 miles with a two-man handsaw clearing fallen logs off trails.  Fred is my role model.

Two days before heading to Colorado, I had a meeting in Andover, KS.  I stopped at the eponymous tollbooth off the Kansas turnpike to pay.  The pleasant toll lady overheard the book I had playing in the car and inquired, "What are you listening to?"  I told her.  Then she told me about her book.  There was no traffic behind me, so we chatted for a few moments.  She shared some of her favorite authors and titles.  Then, I suggested, "You know the book you need to read?"

What, "She said."

"Nude Nuns and Other Peculiar People." Said I and continued,  "by none other than moi", as I touched both cheeks with my slightly rotating index fingers.

She laughed, and I drove off.

One day later, as is my custom, I checked the Amazon sales register and noted a purchase occurred the previous day.  Makes one ponder.  Am I capable of even more egregious pandering?
Chuck

Charles A. Wells, Jr.
3317 W. 68th Street
Shawnee Mission, KS 66208
816 289-1924
Author of: Nude Nuns and Other Peculiar People
Now available in all ebook formats at:  http://www.smashwords.com/b/96530
and in print and Kindle format at  http://www.amazon.com
Available at:
  Rainy Day Books, 2706 W. 53rd Street, Fairway, KS
  Bruce Smith Drug Store, Prairie Village, KS 
  The Raven Bookstore, 8 East 7th, Lawrence, KS
  Architectural Salvage, 2045 Broadway, Kansas City, MO
  Sanibel Island Bookshop, 1571 Periwinkle, Sanibel, FL
  Twisted Sisters Eclectic Gifts and Floral, Albany, MO
  

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