Battle Mountain - Storm Pass - Estes Cone

I needed to make up for the disappointment of yesterday - on a beautiful morning at South Mesa I wanted to scale South Boulder Peak and Bear Mountain but the seasonal raptor closure is much more aggressive this year and all trails to both mountains are closed. I was annoyed. I completed a short 8 mile loop to North Shannahan, and although it is a great trail system I felt that it was a wasted opportunity to get some altitude.

A deserted Long's Peak parking lot

Pulling into the Long's Peak trailhead in the early sunlight this morning I aimed to make amends. But even today...on my bigger objective...I was thwarted, and the day was only recovered by some adjustment to my schedule. I know it's the middle of winter in the high mountains, but I thought, after the pleasant temperatures yesterday, that I might be able to make it to Chasm Lake at around 11,800 feet. But although the sunlight was streaming onto the lower slopes the outlook wasn't great. The first clue was the snow storm that started while driving through Allenspark. It wasn't quite "whiteout" but the roads had an inch of quickly accumulating snow and the cloud was low over the mountains. I could see huge plumes of spindrift being blasted into the air with the high level winds.

Approaching the tree line with the wind picking up

It was below zero as I geared up but it didn't feel that cold. The snow was swirling around the car and the lot was deserted. The snow cover on the lower trail concealed sections of thick ice and I jogged slowly to avoid getting upended. It was a little surreal - the sun was shining low and brightly from the east yet the snowstorm was raging. It was a pretty outlook as I gained altitude through the trees, passed Goblin's Forest campsite (absolutely no tents there) and then reached the point where the trail heads south as it breaks out of the tree line. It was here that the wind really picked up and I realized just how much shelter the forrest had afforded.

Twin Sister obscured by snow

I surprised a mountain hare. I almost stepped on it by the trail and it shot off too quickly for me to get out my camera. Apart from the occasional alpine Marmot that was about it for wildlife. It was now getting difficult to see, and I had forgotten to bring my glacier glasses. The snow and ice were peppering my face and it was stinging. I pulled down my hat and raised my neckscarf. I didn't feel too cold, but I didn't want to slow down and get cold. The temperature gauge on my sac showed -4F (about -22C) and there was no point trying to drink water. The section up to the Battle Mountain trail junction was just brutal. The wind picked me up at one point and blew me into a prickly patch of krummholz - with Chasm Lake above the cloud level and another 1000 feet higher and 1.6 miles away I quickly rethought my options.

A brief glimpse of Mount Lady Washington with Chasm Lake in the depression to the left

I didn't want to go straight back to the car, but when planning this trip I also considered the Estes Cone trail from Lily Lake. I knew there was a connector trail from near the Long's Peak trailhead that joined this route at Storm Pass - maybe that would save the day. At 11,000 feet I had always wanted to climb Estes Cone but it looked too short a trip just on its own. With me already having about 5 miles under my belt this might be a good time for the ascent. The other attraction to the Cone was that it was bathed in sunlight, and although it would still be windy maybe the snow wouldn't be as heavy in the air or thick on the ground. It was worth a try.

Sheltering from wind just below Battle Mountain

The descent back to the trail split seemed to go quickly. It is great fun running quickly on a snow packed surface and once down below the tree line I was no longer being battered by the wind. I passed a couple of parties who were bravely heading uphill - they looked well-equipped but were making heavy weather of the terrain.

Estes Cone in sunlight

Rocky scramble to summit ridge

On the summit with what should be Long's Peak behind me 

The connector trail to Storm Pass breaks north only 0.6 miles from the Long's Peak trail head and it was hard adjusting from running quickly downhill to applying effort on a rising trail. I quickly got back into rhythm and was passing the Eugenia Gold Mine in no time. Another mile and I was at the Storm Pass junction. It was a calm place, despite its name, and although the snow was still falling it was only light and I began the final 0.7 miles and 1000 feet to the summit. This was hard work. Only short sections are runnable because most of the trail requires high stepping on large boulders and blocks. I was blowing hard when I reached the summit. It is a lofty place with steep crags on all sides. To attain the summit proper requires some basic rock scrambling up a steep icy gully. I quickly skipped up and was whipped by the wind on the summit block and ridge.

Lily Lake on the right and Estes Park in the middle distance through the snow

The snow made visibility difficult but an occasional lull brought Estes Park and Lumpy Ridge into view and I had a hazy view of Lily Lake 5 miles below. The high mountains were completely obscured by cloud and snow. I messed around taking a few photos then retraced my route to Storm Pass and then back to the car. There were a few more folk near Eugenia Mine and on the trail but I quickly ran by and was a little disappointed it was over so quickly. The trailhead parking lot had about 10 cars and the snow cover of early this morning had now melted. It was about 38 degrees...almost tee shirt weather.

Estes Cone from Long's Peak trailhead

Rattlesnake Gulch

Leaving the trailhead in freezing conditions

The smattering of snow we had at home quickly disappeared behind me as I drove through Boulder early this morning. In one of those quirks of the weather it seems that Boulder and points south escaped the snowfall we had yesterday and I pulled up close to Eldorado Springs with the temperature at 16 degrees (minus 9 degrees celsius). A thick hoar frost and light snow covered tree limbs and there were patches of snow as we climbed above 6,000 feet towards the Fowler Trail.

Entering Eldorado Canyon

I was adequately dressed, but not over dressed for the weather. There was a little cloud obscuring the rising sun, but this would count for nothing as I would be running most of the time in the cold shadows of Eldorado Canyon. This is a magnificent place and I never tire of visiting. I wasn't aiming to do much mileage this morning after a hard week, just stretch my legs and raise my cardio levels a little. It was a beautiful morning.

In the Fowler Trail with Redgarden Wall in the background

There were no footprints on the Fowler Trail. Livvy and I were the first visitors of the morning and we enjoyed the solitude as we crossed behind Bastille Rock and into the canyon proper. I love the high level Fowler trail. It is only short and level but it contours high above the canyon floor and affords fantastic views of the rock buttresses I have climbed so many times. But not today. The idea of rock climbing, even in the sun, didn't make sense as the moisture around my nose and mouth became iced.

Initial climb up Rattlesnake Gulch

Rattlesnake Gulch is a short, easy trail that climbs about 1,000 feet up the southern flanks of Eldorado Canyon. It almost reaches the level of the railway and, just like two weeks ago, I saw a train making its arduous journey west over the Rockies from Denver...this time a freight train. I heard it come through the tunnel and emerge onto the steep hill side. Livvy and I ran for another half mile yet still the entire train hadn't become visible. It was a noisy, but not completely unpleasant intrusion into the peace of the morning. Once passed silence returned almost immediately.

Wind blowing ice shards from trees high up the gulch

Train emerging from tunnel

High point of the trail

After a few switchbacks we emerged onto the very top of the trail. There's really nothing to look at, the trail just levels off for a hundred yards and then begins to descend again through the woods. It deposited us just a short distance from the Continental Divide overlook and we spent a few minutes enjoying a little warming sunshine and the fantastic views. Unfortunately the high mountains to the west were covered in cloud but we got great views across Walker Ranch to the west and the Eldorado Canyon entrance to the east. Earlier this year, when Livvy and I were on a long run, we saw two black bears at this overlook sitting on the edge of the trail chewing roots. We got quite close to them, but I didn't have my camera. There were no bears today but we had been tracking a mountain lion. In several places we saw clear mountain lion tracks in the fresh snow and as we returned to descend Livvy went nuts as she saw movement in the trees to the west. I never saw anything, but then again, her eyesight (as a sight hound) is about 3 times better than mine. She didn't bark, she just jumped up and down a few times and whimpered as though she wanted to give chase. This wouldn't have been a very sensible idea and she settled down as we lost altitude. I didn't really want to come face to face with a mountain lion when all the rocks I would want to throw in defense were iced into the ground.

From the overlook towards the east, the canyon entrance and the plains beyond

Leaving the overlook

Back on the Fowler trail with Bastille Rock dead ahead

As we dropped back down to the Fowler Trail we passed a photographer/hiker heading uphill. He looked disappointed not to be the first although I doubt our footprints would spoil his pictures. A few hundred yards along the Fowler Trail and four runners passed us heading into the canyon. It was good to see a few early visitors enjoying the environment.

Looking back west to the canyon entrance

I picked up the pace a little running back to the car. It had been a slow steady jog this morning and the wind had picked up. It was still very cold and when we were out of the sun it was really noticeable. Increasing the effort brought some warming and Livvy seemed to appreciate the decision. As we rounded the cutting on the trail I could see very little snow on South Boulder Peak and Bear Peak. It seems that both mountains missed the worst of the weather yesterday. As long as it doesn't snow again this week these may be good places to visit on my next run.

Shadow Canyon on the right leading up to Bear Peak

Picture Rock

The slowly rising, sweeping trail leaves the trailhead just south of Lyons and picks its way through countless switchbacks as it ascends towards the Wild Turkey and Ponderosa trails - trails I had visited from Lefthand Canyon only a week or so ago. I found the Picture Rock trail to be altogether easier running, a fact borne out by my fast running time over the 15 mile circuit.

Looking back to the trailhead from the first sweeping curve

It was an unseasonably warm day...perhaps 65 degrees...with just enough of a cooling breeze to prevent overheating. I was running light today - no drinks or food, no dog (they are banned from this trail unfortunately) - and this enabled quick progress. Probably too quick for comfort. I knew I would be clocking about 15 miles when I set off but this was a new trail for me and although the map suggested a gentle rising climb I had been surprised before and wondered whether there would be a sting in the tail.

Approaching some of the rockier switchbacks

This is a pretty trail. It winds through Juniper and Lodgepole and crosses open grasslands and the surface is really smooth and even. It makes for an excellent mountain bike trip and I met more than a few cyclists as I slogged uphill for 5.2 miles to the junction with Wild Turkey.

Approaching the Wild Turkey trail junction. I would head right

I've commented before about mountain bikers. I have a 75% experience with them - by that I mean that for every obnoxious one (you know, the kind who just plows right through you without braking, yelling to you to get out of their way, despite the bylaws requiring them to stop and concede ground), there are three exemplary ones whose manner and civility is an example to uphold. Well, on this trail, by the time I reached the trail split, I was at 25% and I was mad. The first cyclist descending toward me after about 2 miles was so pleasant and allowed me the trail as I ran slowly by. We exchanged good wishes on such a beautiful day and I continued feeling that all was good with the world. The next 3 cyclists were appalling. The first two were just rude and aggressive, completely ignored me, failed to slow down, forced me to jump to one side without the hint of an apology. The final cyclist took the biscuit. He clearly saw me, kept pedaling hard, yelled at me, and I just managed to leap sideways as his front wheel ran across my left thigh. For a moment I hoped I had caused him to crash but unfortunately he fell into the next curve and was able to right himself. I hope he feels proud of himself.

Thankfully, there was no sting in the trail and although the trail surface got a little rockier in places there was no steep climb and I arrived at the Wild Turkey junction about 8 minutes ahead of my expected time. I took the counter-clockwise circuit again thinking it would give me the longest uphill stretch and then pushed myself a little to see if I could better my time on this top loop of a few days ago.

This face looks familiar

A herd of deer were in exactly the same location I encountered on my last visit. I like to think it was the same group but, well, I didn't recognize any of them and they all looked similar to me...so who knows?

America was at the polls today electing, as I was later to watch, Barack Obama, and despite the long wait to vote I did meet a number of walkers out escaping the reality of the day. Maybe they voted early and were out trying to cleanse the thought of a Romney Presidency from their thoughts. I empathized.

A steep, sharp turn on the descent

The descent down the same trail is a little too fast for me and I found it hard keeping a high tempo. Sometimes I would find myself breathing awkwardly and striding out too much and on other occasions felt right off the pace. The gentle downward slope and good surface tempted me to run too quickly and I found it hard to adjust to the slight switchbacks and sharp turns favored by mountain bikers. I did lose altitude quickly and I clocked 8 minute miles as I retraced my earlier climb.

Looking down the final two miles towards Lyons in the north

This is clearly a trail designed for mountain bikers because there were a number of sections where a walking trail would have taken a direct route, but this one swept across the landscape in long loops like coils of string. I stuck to the trail and allowed the extra distance to hurt my legs.

I'll definitely run this trail again during the winter. It is exposed enough and low level enough for the sun to burn the snow off pretty quickly and although it might get muddy in places the ground seems to drain quite well. I doubt I will run it as fast as I did today though.

Betasso Preserve

Canyon & Benjamin Loops

I wasn't going to exert myself this morning. A fast 10 miles on Friday and an exhausting slog at altitude yesterday pretty much wiped me out. A gentle 11 miles on one of my favorite lower lying trails was in order. It was unusually cloudy in Boulder this morning meaning only one thing in the higher mountains - snow. This made my choice yesterday a good one. Unless we get an exceptionally warm trend the high mountains will be out for the season.

The steep start of the connector trail leaving Boulder Canyon road.

The good thing about cloud cover is it keeps the overnight temperature reasonable high and it was 40 degrees when I pulled in to the small parking turn out on Boulder Canyon road. Rather than start from the main trailhead I elected to punish myself with the stiff climb up the connector trail from the valley adding 2.5 miles and 400 feet in elevation. The climbing is immediate and it is steep and I took care not to over exert myself and then "crash" at the top. I felt pretty good the whole way up and although I was running within myself I felt in control. It was only when I uploaded my GPS at home that I saw that I ran this section in a personal best time.

Thick cloud cover overhead with sun rising over the plains to the east.

Livvy was alert and excitable the whole way up the climb. A small group of deer were tracking up the stream bed ahead of us and she saw no reason not to play. We left them behind at one of the switchbacks and joined the main Canyon loop after 17 minutes.

The Canyon Loop climbs to its high point.

Mountain bikes are prohibited from the trails on Wednesdays and Saturdays so I'd have to keep a lookout for fast riders. I always run the trail systems "against" the direction of the mountain bikes in order to see them coming. Once or twice I've been unpleasantly surprised by a rider shooting up quickly and quietly behind me. This is never the consequence of aggressive riding or lack of consideration for trail users and I invariably find bike riders to be courteous and concede right of way...as they should.

The trail descends on sweeping curves - a great smooth running surface

Summer time ended overnight and with the change in clocks there were few people around this morning. I ran the first section of the Canyon Loop and the entire Benjamin Loop without meeting a single person. Because I was under no time pressure today I decided to run the connector trail to Fourmile Canyon road. This is a new addition to the trail system and although it is only 0.8 miles it provides fast and pleasant running on a soft, even surface with banked, sweeping bends. Ideal for cycling and great for running. The park service have made a great job of this trail extension and when Livvy and I met the road we just turned back and resumed the Benjamin Loop. This provided a long, steady climb from 6200 feet to 6750 feet in little over a mile.

Beautiful new steps on the Fourmile Canyon connector

Gaining altitude on the Benjamin trail we encountered a black squirrel. Livvy danced and jumped at the thought of giving chase. It seemed to understand Livvy's leash restriction and casually sauntered off up the hillside with the hint of a dismissive attitude. As we approached the junction with the lower Canyon trail we met our first people - a young couple were biking carefully along the narrow trail. We stepped to one side, knowing how awkward it is for bikers to dismount and give way. A little further along a woman was out running in the opposite direction and then three more very courteous mountain bikers. Thankfully there were no ignorant dog owners with their animals off leash and out of control - it improved the experience considerably.

An arrogant black squirrel taunts Livvy from the safety of a low tree branch

The Canyon Loop at Betasso was the first trail I ever ran in the area. Following a house-hunting trip I had to fly on the next day to San Francisco and spent the afternoon running the loop clockwise. The Benjamin extension hadn't then been built and I recall struggling with the altitude around the 3.6 mile circuit. I'm in a lot better shape now and regard this as an easy training run. Even this morning, at a gentle pace and after three days of hard running, I would cruise around this smaller section in half the time I took three years ago.

Just approaching the final climb back to the trail connector.

We arrived back at the top of the trail connector leading back down the steep hillside to the car. At 1.25 miles it would only take about 10 minutes. I have never mountain biked this section of trail - it looks far too difficult for me. On the way down we stepped to one side to allow about 6 bikers to maintain their cadence as they wound up through the trees. Very impressive to see riders cruising up this trail. We resumed our descent and were back at the car in  no time.

Approaching the final trail junction

Uploading the GPS data to strava.com I made another discovery - Livvy had passed 800 miles running for the year. I wonder if she can get to 1000?

Heart Lake

I was a little closer to the "edge" than I would have preferred today. It was a combination of factors, but they left me feeling a little exposed when I usually prefer the safety margin to be much wider in my favor. It's not that I'm ultra-cautious, but I do take care to balance risk and prepare for any situation I might encounter. And it's not that I got the calculation completely wrong today...more that I misjudged two critical factors that I'll come to later.

Driving along the Rollins Pass road to East Portal. Headlights on the road show how dark it still is. Heart Lake lies just below the highest snowy peak in the distance.

I've been hankering for one last high mountain trip before the real grip of winter takes over. The weather has been pleasant and mild in the foothills and the high mountains seem to have had fewer storms over the last few days. I did a fast 10 mile run with Livvy last night so I would be on my own this morning and decided a trip above the snow-line was in order. I don't like taking the dogs in deep, high-altitude snow - it's hardly fair. Although Otto and Olivia are big dogs in comparative terms, it's still tough having to jump through 3 feet of snow. If I was going to get above 11,000 feet then today was the day.

Moffat Tunnel from the trail head. My route crosses the obvious snowy ridge beyond which is Heart Lake.

It was a cold morning leaving home and as I drove through complete darkness up Boulder Canyon the temperature showed 24 degrees. By the time I left Nederland under lightening skies it was 20 degrees and arriving at the East Portal of the Moffat Tunnel it was 18 degrees. At this time of year I usually allow 6 to 8 degrees of temperature loss per thousand feet of ascent and this would put the temperature at Roger's Pass at 0 degrees Farenheit (-18 degrees Celsius). I then factored in warming from the rising sun, which should add 10 degrees at all elevations and would still leave at high level -12 Celsius. The miscalculation was wind speed. All the overnight forecasts predicted zero wind. I wish they had been true. The one thought I held in my mind as I battled the cold morning was the thought of warming sun on my back at higher elevations. The thought kept me going. Unfortunately, the sun would never touch my back at all due to thin cloud cover over the plains to the east - above me I had brilliant blue skies, but the sun was concealed.

A mile and a half up the trail and the first signs of sun clipping the peaks. Freezing cold on the trail.

The sky was light when I left the trail head, although the sun hadn't risen. I could hear the sound of a distant train coming through the tunnel and the displacement of air was causing the massive exhaust turbines to scream at a high pitch. It was the only disturbance to the early morning calm, but it was significant and distracting. Such is the length of the Moffat tunnel that I would be 2 miles further up the trail by the time the train emerged - not that I'm fast, of course, but that the tunnel is so long.

Well worn tracks leading up a steep snow slope...in the wrong direction!! The trail heads right at this point.

The trail was clogged with snow and ice from 10,000 feet. Lot's of recent walkers had turned sections into a skating rink and I trod on the softer snow at the edges in an attempt to maintain balance and control. I was blowing hard up to the Forest Lakes split and as I gained altitude past the Crater Lakes trail my heart was pounding and my breathing was irregular and labored. For all the effort I was putting in I didn't seem to be making such quick progress.

Just below Roger's Lake

Approaching 11,000 feet the tracks on the trail thinned out significantly. Clearly, many walkers gave up the effort in increasing numbers and the snow became deeper and the imprints more scattered. The hard, icy surface lower down was replaced with sparsely trodden deep snow higher up and this made running very challenging. And it quickly became clear that those walkers who had persisted this far weren't gifted in map reading. I know this trail well, and although the snow makes it harder to follow the correct course, a well-trodden passage crossed a stream and seemed to head up a steep incline in the wrong direction. Not only did I know that this wasn't the correct path, but it was obviously incorrect from an examination of the surrounding terrain. If I have learned one thing well in studying the natural world it is this - streams tend to flow downhill away from lakes...and given that Roger's Lake was only a mile away, the trail probably kept fairly close to the stream bed. These tracks veered away at right angles...and it seemed everyone followed them.

Leaving a completely frozen Roger's Lake for Heart Lake. James Peak is the obvious high point dead center. The annoying cloud cover kept the sun at bay.

I sighed and began breaking trail through fresh deep snow in the correct direction. It was desperate going. I had to back track a couple of times to find more stable ground but eventually arrived at the outlet of Roger's Lake. Not a foot print in sight. Either a whole group of disoriented walkers was wandering around the countryside 2 miles to my left, or they had also given up and headed back to the trail head. All evidence suggested the latter.

About 8 inches of ice covered Heart Lake. The wind whistled across the surface.

My goal for the day was Heart Lake. I did toy with the idea of ascending Roger's Pass, but the strong wind and debilitating cold suggested that was an objective too far. Leaving Roger's Lake I jogged over open country to where I knew Heart Lake lay. On the south-facing hillside above tree line most of the snow had blown away or had melted and this made it much easier. However, the wind stiffened appreciably as I crested the shoulder to the south of Heart Lake and I made hard work of crossing the final stretch of ground to the lake outlet. I needed to find somewhere sheltered to fuel up. I felt I had low blood sugar and this needed addressing quickly. But I couldn't escape the wind. Whenever I found a place that seemed protected the wind would whip through after a short lull.

View across Heart Lake to Roger's Pass. The trail can be seen climbing the obvious nose in steep zig-zags.

I was wearing technical clothing so, in one sense, I was well prepared. But there is one feature of technical clothing that needs to be understood. It's really basic science. Technical clothing is designed to wick moisture away from the body quickly. This is great during the summer because as moisture is evaporated from the upper layers of clothing it causes cooling closer to the body. I had expended significant energy climbing up to the lake and was now "benefitting" from this cooling effect. Just at the time I needed to feel some warmth my clothing was working against me. It would only be short lived, because moisture evaporastes quite quickly, but how I longed for a woolen fleece.

I am looking a little battered by the weather. I have no idea how I managed to fiddle around and get the camera self-timer to work.

I found a small depression below a large boulder right on the shore of the frozen lake and huddled down on my side. It wasn't ideal but it was better than taking the full force of wind head on. Small grains of ice and snow were whipped up by the wind and blasted my face and eyes. They hurt. I quickly checked my water and even before I removed it from my pack I remembered that I didn't loosen the screw cap before I left the car. I always do this in winter because the cold usually prevents me from being able to grip the cap and open it. I was furious with myself for forgetting such a basic task. I needn't have concerned myself - the water was completely frozen. I still needed glucose and found the two oatmeal cookies I carried for precisely this purpose. They, too, were frozen and I had a hard time breaking pieces off to chew...but I did manage to eat one and knew that this would provide much needed energy in the next 20 minutes. I just didn't have 20 minutes. I needed to move, and quickly.

I skirted the lake to the west but failed to find any respite from the wind and cold. It was at this point that I realized the miscalculation I mentioned earlier. It's not that I was in actual danger, after all, I had plenty of running left in my legs and I was able to reason things through rationally and assess my situation. But I was extended beyond the point where I am usually comfortable and was annoyed at myself for exposing myself to such risk in this way. I could feel my lower jaw freezing - this has happened before so wasn't, in itself, particularly concerning, but it was a symptom I could have done without. I needed to lose altitude and get back below tree line.

Descending back to Roger's Lake.

I broke south from Heart Lake and picked up the trail that descended to Roger's Lake and from there I descended below 11,000 feet and into the trees. The wind dropped immediately and my spirit rose. It was an exhilarating descent. I love running on snow-packed trails in the mountains and downhill is a lot easier than uphill. Having spent the best part of three hours completely isolated from  civilization I met two walkers heading in to the hills. They were discussing whether to continue when I surprised them coming round a rocky outcrop. It took me all of a nanosecond to realize how ill-equipped they were for these conditions and I encouraged them in the decision to turn back.

About a mile from the trailhead I encountered another group of walkers...maybe six people and as many dogs. I didn't see any risk in this group getting much higher and bid them good day. Back at the car I felt a sense of relief and pleasure. Pushing myself a little further than is comfortable, but coming through felt good. I remembered the huge bear prints I had seen earlier in the day and thought that encountering their owner might have added too much spice to the occasion  but every day in the mountains is an outstanding day and today was another one of them.

Final view of Roger's Lake before the rapid descent back to the car - 5 miles away.

Unfortunately I couldn't remove my running shoes. The laces were completely iced over and my fingers were still numb. I sat in the car with the engine blasting warm air on my feet and legs. The tingling was uncomfortable but after 10 minutes I was able to prise the laces apart, remove my shoes and begin the drive back to normality...until tomorrow.