Stardate 2016.699

Teakettle before it lost its spout (July 1993).



Tea Time
Once again I’ve a bit of summit fever today. I'm not sure why. The good weather riding and mountaineering season edges up the difficulty stick over the next several months. Often, as difficulty increases, so does the fun meter. Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something. Who knows! Nonetheless, while perusing old photos and trip reports, I started reminiscing about a favorite summit, an itty bitty summit that comfortably allows only two climbers. That alone warrants a cup of fine tea.

Teakettle Mountain sports an elevation of 13,819 feet, ranking 98th in elevation in Colorado. Peaks on the 100-highest list are known as Centennials. Teakettle holds the number two altitude slot in the Sneffels Range, an east/west sub-range of the northern San Juan Mountains. If you have traveled Colorado's Highway 62, Teakettle is one of the numerous points serrating the sky in the rugged row of summits shadowing the highway between Ridgway (no e in this Ridgway) and Dallas Divide.


Teakettle (left) and Potosi Peak (13,786 ft) touching the sky in June 1993.

The igneous rock in this region provides a glimpse into the Lower to Middle Tertiary Periods, dating 20 to 70 million years ago. The prehistoric volcanic activity was widespread and violent. From many vantage points, Teakettle is aptly named. However, during the 1998-1999 winter, the spout fell off. Teakettle is one of several Centennials that are technical by their easiest route.


Teakettle's airy summit; Potosi provides the backdrop.

Tidbit: The monarch of the area is 14,150-foot Mount Sneffels, probably my favorite 14er to climb, especially the deeply inset snake couloir poised on the north face. The name Sneffels originates from the Jules Verne classic Journey to the Center of the Earth. In 1874, while crossing Blue Lakes Basin, directly below Mount Sneffel’s southwest face, a member of the Hayden Survey compared the high basin with the hole in the earth in Verne’s classic. Dr. Frederick Endlich, a scientist with the survey, exclaimed, “There’s Snaefell,” in regards to the Icelandic mountain located in the vicinity of the hole (Bueler, 1986). Having spent numerous days in Blue Lakes Basin, I can vouch that not only is it a delightful hole, but arguably harbors one of the finest wildflower displays in the state. It’s a magical place to lie and watch peaks and clouds spar with each other.


Majestic Mount Sneffels (left) rises above Blue Lakes Basin in fall.

Teakettle was first climbed in 1929 by Rolfe and Alonzo Hartman. Yet, by the mid-1970s, Teakettle was one of the few peaks with only several pages of names in its summit register. In fact, its neighbor Dallas Peak (13,809 ft, rank 100), did not entertain a third ascent until 1976 (Bueler, 1986). I didn’t find the technical portion to be difficult; it’s a short one-pitch hop onto a tiny summit — a tiny 3- by 7-foot summit. The overall climb consumes time; the rotten volcanic rock covering very steep slopes can be tedious at best. Hence, a serious undertaking from a weather and potential rockfall standpoint; there are no easy bail points. We were blessed with a blue bird day.


Todd, my climbing cohort, gives some context to Teakettle's handle hole.


Until we meet again...

Adios

Literature Cited
Bueler, William M. 1986. Roof of the Rockies: A history of Colorado mountaineering.
Cordillera Press, Inc. 251 pp.

Stardate 2016.685

Take a Peek at Capitol Peak
I'm in a reminiscing mood; how about a change from riding and visit one of Colorado's loftier heights? Capitol Peak is a 14,130-foot peak located in west central Colorado's Elk Mountains. Capitol is the third-highest peak in the Elk Range and one of the reigning monarchs of the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness Area. The peak is located 39  09.012' N, 107  04.970' W. and is the 29th tallest peak in the state. As the crow files, Capitol is 14 miles northwest of Aspen, 20 miles north of Crested Butte, 79 miles east of Grand Junction and 119 miles southwest of Denver.



The peak is considered one of the more challenging 14ers (a peak over 14,000 feet in elevation) to scale, if not the most difficult. The complexity has something to do with a tasty knife-edge arête separating its upper northeast ridge and point 13,664 (known as “K2”). By its easiest route, Capitol is rated class 4 when dry; you'll be doing some hand and foot work. Some parties pull out a rope. On the other hand, the airy ridge has been "tight-roped" by a handful of fearless souls. Personally, I thought the knife edge to be solid and fun. I had more concern with the crumbly upper east face. In any event, Capitol is a time-consuming peak and should not be taken lightly. Unlike the reddish, diseased and rotting terra of the Maroon Bells, Pyramid and Castle, which touch the clouds several miles to the south, Capitol boasts several technical routes on its stunning north face. Nonetheless, the rock is still quite loose.




The tall grass and meadows of wildflower displays in this range are eye-catching. Former Aspen resident and
singer John Denver had it right when he penned "Rocky Mountain High".




Following is a fun write-up from my mountaineering past.


13 July 2003
Capitol Peak, 14,130 feet

My climbing partner Todd and I have been hoping to ascend Capitol for a while, and a climbing club trip report further fueled the desire. Zeus and company always beat us back on previous attempts. We decided to try and climb it as a day trip. On Sunday, July 13, we attained our goal.

At 11 p.m. Saturday, we left Grand Junction, Colorado, and headed toward Aspen and the Capitol Creek trailhead. At 1:45 a.m. we entered the quakies via the ditch trail under a fantastically bright full moon. Our headlamps were left off much of the time, and the tug of a moonlit Capitol Peak was not only strong, but bordering surreal. After crossing Capitol Creek, we entered a small clearing in the riparian area. In the dim, creamy light, the clearing was speckled with odd, yet similar rocks rising about three feet. "Weird," I thought to myself. At that same instant, all of the dark shapes changed form, catapulting upward in a chaotic flurry! Having jumped out of my shorts, I was already halfway to the moon. In our game of "I spook you, you spook me" we realized we had startled a group of bedded cows and couldn't have been more centered amongst them. Turning on headlamps, Todd offered me one of his walking poles as we worked our way through the bovine without getting squished.



At 4:15 a.m. we arrived at mystical Capitol Lake (11,580 ft) and stared in awe up Capitol Peak's glowing north face. After pumping water and savoring a snack, we headed up to the pass that splits Mount Daly (13,300 ft) from Capitol. So far everything had been smooth sailing. We continued up onto the snowfields of the basin leading to "K2" (13,664 ft) and found the snow had somewhat froze overnight and required a bit of care. We had ice axes, but not crampons.



A little after 7:00 a.m., we topped "K2." The view is something you have to see for yourself — pure and simple. This was the farthest I had ever been, and I was excited for the remainder. We dropped off the north side of "K2" and swung west around to the famous knife-edge ridge. The knife was easier than anticipated and a lot of fun. However, throw in some weather, et cetera, and it may be another story; you are very aware of the exposure. After the knife-edge ridge we worked our way up the east face. Several routes were cairned. We followed a route that heads out onto the east face at the same elevation and slowly works its way up to some sandy, debris-covered ledges. From the west end of the knife ridge, there is another cairned route that works its way up the ridge a short distance before heading out onto the east face. We used this latter route on the descent, and I thought it went better. However, it looks worse when viewed from the end of the knife ridge. Both routes merge in the vicinity of the debris-covered ledges. The view of Snowmass Mountain, Pierre Lakes and the Maroon Bells from this perch is astounding. At 9:10 a.m. we reached the top after taking an airy route along the upper portion of the northeast ridge. For me, scrambling up the east face was dicier than the knife ridge. The views from the summit are worth every drop of sweat shed to get there. The first peak to catch our eye was 14,092-foot Snowmass Mountain. I climbed Snowmass in 1993 and often get the urge to visit again.




Four Elk Range 14ers rise left to right: Pyramid Peak (14,018 ft), North Maroon Peak (14,014 ft), Maroon Peak (14,156 ft) and Snowmass Mountain (14,092 ft).



This is a nice tidbit. Minutes after reaching the summit, a young guy came flying up the northwest ridge. We knew of another party doing the Northwest Buttress route, and this guy wasn't part of them. As it turned out, he had soloed the Northwest Buttress route. The part I like is that he left Capitol Creek trailhead at 5:00 a.m., started climbing at 7:00 a.m., and reached the summit at 9:10 a.m. Four hours! Yeah, that's motoring! Soon it was time to go. Todd is seen finishing a descent of the knife edge with K2 in the background.



The trip back to the trailhead was enjoyable; yet, the tired bug was beginning to have a strong bite. All in all it was a fantastic day, mosquitoes not-withstanding. We didn't hear a gurgle of thunder until we were well into the trees. Our total trip time was 14:20 hours over approximately 17 miles, including 40 minutes of summit time, and some lounging and playing during the descent. If you do this in a day, state law requires you make sure you have a barley pop waiting so you can sip and savor Capitol from the trailhead — an excellent savoring site in itself.



Capitol has a rugged west face.




Capitol has a very rugged south face as well.




I hope you enjoyed Capitol Peak!

Adios

Stardate 2016.668

The late 1800s rail-grade up the South Platte River is a nice portal into Colorado's Front Range.



Another Quickie...
I took advantage of some time and jetted up Waterton Canyon to the start of the Colorado Trail. It had rained well into the previous night, and the forest was a bit on the humid side. I grew up in the high desert plateaus of western Colorado, and I can tolerate 15 to 25 percent. Up the humidity to 50 percent or more and I get real cranky. I can only imagine what humidity in the 90 percent range must be like. I guess you get used to it. Humidity aside, it was a very nice ride.

The South Platte River appeared a bit high for this time of year, indicating a possible large release from Strontia Springs Reservoir in order to catch last night's storm water. From a wildlife angle, I thought rattlesnakes would be out sunning post-deluge; I didn't see a one. Following are some pics from the ride.




Late summer blooms enjoying the rain and humidity.




Approaching the summit, wheeze, wheeze.




There is delightful singletrack high above the South Platte River and Strontia Springs Reservoir.




The aptly named Bear Creek descends on the left toward its confluence with Strontia Springs Reservoir.




That wasn't so bad. See you next time.

Adios!