Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 8 of 8

This was our last full day in Colorado, tomorrow we would fly back to the east coast. There was still so many places to see, but we decided to go climbing in Eldorado Canyon, located in Eldorado Springs just south of Boulder.

We packed up camp, and made the half hour drive to Eldorado Springs from the Peak to Peak Highway. Eldorado Springs was much smaller than I had imagined, it was just a few houses along a dirt road. Where the dirt road ended was the entrance to Eldorado Canyon State Park. Eldorado Canyon wasn't what I had imagined also. I've heard so much about it, I thought it would be much bigger than it was in reality. It wasn't really a canyon either, at least not what a canyon looked like in my mind.

I've never been to Eldorado Canyon before, but I've been warned that the rating here is pretty stiff. To be safe, I picked a classic beginners route Calypso (5.6 3 pitches) to test the water. If I felt good on it, then I planned try something harder. Calypso was a popular route, when we got to its base there was already a guy leading the first pitch, and two other guys appeared to be waiting at the base. Megan and I patiently got in line. As a way to strike up a conversation, I asked the one of the guys at the base if they were waiting to climb Calypso. They glanced at each other and replied no, they were not. I was a bit surprised, but since they insisted that I should climb next, I started to rack up much sooner than I expected. Then the party already on Calypso called down and told me that they were rappelling after the first pitch. I noted with satisfaction that Megan and I always had good luck getting on popular and busy routes that we planned to climb. Red Rocks, Squamish, Flatirons, Longs Peak, we never had to climb behind anyone.

I tied in and started on Calypso, taking the easier 5.5 variation start to get up to a crack in a dihedral. Unfortunately I had forgotten my camera in my backpack, so there was no record of my heroic effort on Calypso. Which is just as well, that camera would have slowed me down anyway. A party of two older ladies from Denver had arrived and waited patiently behind us. There were a few tricky moves right at the start of the dihedral. The crack was worn smooth by the climbing traffic, my sweaty hands just couldn't get a very secure grip on the rock. So I spent quite a bit of time placing gear.

Here I should pause for a second to tell you a little about myself as a climber. I am a very... ummmm... cautious climber. And by "cautious", I mean "scared". Especially falling, I hate the feeling of falling. For those of you who don't climb, you think that's a good thing, right? I mean, isn't falling while climbing a bad thing? Well, not always. When there are well placed gears to protect you, falling is often pretty safe. But to me, I just don't like the feeling of falling. Even when I have strong bolts to protect me (sport climbing), I still avoid falling as much as I can, which means I never pushed myself close to my physical climbing limit. On trad (traditional climbing), I place gear whenever I'm not feeling very solid or when I'm about to go into a hard section. And if I have any doubts about the gear I just placed, I would place more piece(s) to backup the first. So the amount of gear I place is proportional to how scared I feel.

Here I was, not 20 feet off the ground, and I was already placing three pieces of gear that were close enough to touch each other. So of course the going was slow. I finally placed enough gear between me and the ground to make me feel confident, then I laybacked on some small crimpers with sweaty hands, and got past the tricky section. The next 30 feet eased up a little, but not by much. Then I came to a small overhang in the dihedral. The original route traversed right under the overhang then followed a right leaning dihedral up to the belay for a 5.6 finish. There was a 5.8 variation that pulled directly over the overhang. I took one look at the overhang and decided that I was to follow the 5.6 finish. Like I said, I'm a... cautious climber. I placed two pieces before the overhang, made the short traverse to the right by underclinging the overhang, and ended at a stance at the end of the overhang that was a bit strenuous because of the undercling. I thought about forgoing placing any gear at this point and climb to a better stance, but then I thought better of it, and fiddled in something at the end of the traverse. I was very glad that I did stop to place gear, because the next section was a combination of laybacking and undercling following the right leaning dihedral, felt pretty desperate for a just 5.6. By the time I found another semi-good stance to place gear, I was already 15 feet above my last piece. Some more tricky moves (and more time spent placing gear), I made it to the belay for the first pitch with much relief. Man! That was a hard 5.6. By comparison, Deidre (5.8) on the Apron in Squamish didn't have anything as hard as the pitch I had just climbed. I felt a little bit of apprehension about the next pitch.

I brought Megan up to the anchor, and she said she thought the pitch was a little scary even on toprope. That made me feel better, It seemed that I didn't get all scared just on a super easy 5.6. Megan and I were supposed to swap leads, but considering how stiff the first pitch was, and Megan's finger haven't completely healed yet, we decided it was best if I lead the second pitch as well. The two older ladies behind us have already started on the first pitch below me, they would probably catch up with me soon. But since I was close to the anchor, I wasn't going to take any chances by moving too quickly and make a mistake. The second pitch started with a slightly overhanging crack, but at least I could plug in as much gear as I want to, which was exactly what I did. I spent a long time below the small overhang fiddling with gear placement, getting pumped in the process. Finally, I got three pieces between me and the anchor, and pulled over the small overhang in a blink of an eye. The moves were easy, I just psyched myself out.

The rest of the pitch was slabby and easy, but I climbed carefully and slowly, looking around to make sure I was on route, stopping to place gear at regular intervals. Finally I made it to a big loose ledge that can almost be called a gully. This was logically the place for a belay station. But I looked around and scratched my head: there were just no placements within 10 feet to build a solid anchor. Sure there were a few large sandy huecos, but nothing on my rack save for the biggest cam would fit in them. And even then I didn't trust that placement 100%. But if I climb higher in the gully, I know the rope drag would just be horrible, not to mention that the rope would probably knock something loose and sent it flying toward Megan. After much fiddling and scrambling about, I finally built an anchor that consisted of the above mentioned cam in a heuco, a sling-through hourglass about 10 feet left of the max cam, a red tricam above the hourglass, and my solid stance on the ledge.

Of course, this epic anchor building took quite a while, during which the two older ladies from Denver were debating whether they should climb the 5.8 variation just to pass me. When I finally brought Megan up to the belay she said I need to work on building anchors faster.

So we were at the second pitch, now what? I didn't plan to climb the third pitch from the beginning, because my beta suggested this pitch was vegetated and loose, not a pleasant climb. From the beta I thought that you could "scramble" to climber's right and rappel from two bolts on a 5.8 nearby. But now that I was standing on this ledge, I wasn't sure if I was in the right place. The "scramble" to the right looked rather hard and not well protected at all, I was wondering if I had gone off route. No matter, if I remembered correctly, you could also scramble climber's left along a ledge to the anchor for a 5.10 nearby. I assumed that anchor would have bolts for rappelling, but turned out my assumption was wrong.

To make a long story short, basically we made the scramble up the gully and the traverse across the ledge into two short pitches. There was a couple climbing on the 5.10, so I asked them if there was a rap anchor there, and the guy answered in the negative. I was really confused, until he told me that it was a walk off. A walk-off? I never considered this as an option since we were two pitches up on a cliff, but sure enough, the ledge connected with a trail that took us to the base of the cliff.

We coiled the ropes and hiked the trail back to our backpacks at the base of the cliff, but not before I accidentally set off a huge (and I do mean HUGE!) boulder on the edge of the hiking trail when I was trying to crawl over a big pine tree that had fallen across the trail. I took that as a sign and decided I wasn't going to climb anything else for the day. Since it was our last day in Colorado, we had other things to take care of anyway.

We left Eldorado Canyon and drove to Boulder, where we picked up some food (including cranberry walnut scones of course) from Wild Oats for tonight's dinner and for the flight home tomorrow. We never wanted to be at the mercy of the Milwaukee airport food court again. We also picked up some Fat Tire Amber Ale for Terence because he said he'd trade his soul to me for some Fat Tire.

After eating our dinner in little park just under the Flatirons, we went to the Boulder REI so I could get rid of the extra white gas that we haven't used. You can't transport fuel on an airplane, and it's hazardous and environmentally unsound to just dump it in the trash. We picked up a few extra items from REI while we were there, reorganized and repacked our gear in the parking lot, then slept in the van for our last night in Colorado.

Until next time, goodbye, Colorado!

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 7 of 8

Mt. Elbert, standing at 14,440 feet, takes the crown as the highest peak in Colorado and in the Rockies mountains. It is also the second highest peak in the contiguous US. But although it is 179 feet higher than Longs Peak, it is a much easier hike. The North and South Mt. Elbert Trail are both class 1 trails, extending to the summit from the parking lot in a relatively straight line. According to the guidebook, the normal roundtrip time is only 6 hours.

For these reasons, I set my alarm for 6 am (instead of the 1 am for Longs Peak) this morning. I hoped that we could catch the sunrise above the treeline when we started our hike. However, when the alarm went off, it was still chilly and very foggy outside the van. My hope of catching the sunrise lost, I uncharacteristically turned off the alarm and went back to sleep.

I awoke again at 7 o'clock to the sound of other cars arriving at the trailhead. Looking through the window, I saw three more cars have arrived. I supposed it was time to get moving. Megan and I got up, packing the exact same gear as we had brought for Longs Peak, and set off for the summit. The people who arrived in the other cars were ahead of us.

Half an hour into our hike, we caught up with two other hikers with a large husky. They were both carrying overnight-size packs. Thinking they were carrying climbing gears, I casually inquired if they were going rock climbing. "No, we are just going to the summit. But at 14,000 feet anything can happen, you need to be prepared." I nodded my understanding, wished them a good day, and we passed them. We would meet them again on our way down from the summit, gaining about 2 hours of time on them.

Slowly hiking uphill

Photo: Megan Dunn

An hour from the parking lot, we came above the treeline. The morning mist was a long way below now, leaving us a clear view miles around us. Mt. Elbert was still about 3,000 feet above us. Fresh snow had fallen the night before, covering the trails at higher elevation. The trail was not technically challenging, but the grade was steeper than the Keyhole trail, so even though I had just hiked Longs Peak two days prior, I was still breathing pretty hard. The weather was still clear at this point, not a cloud in sight. But it was windy, and the clouds built with surprising speed. It seemed like one minute I was looking at clear blue skies, then the next minute I looked up there were ominous dark looking clouds everywhere.

The next few hours were spent slowly walking uphill. The fresh snow made some spots slippery, but still nothing technical. We made it to the summit after a long boring slog. The clouds were hanging much lower and darker now, we were afraid that an thunderstorm was imminent. Russell the Moose asked us to take a photo of him at the summit, we quickly did so, then turned around for the hike down without even stopping for food and water.

Dark clouds gathering all around us at the summit

But to my total dismay no sooner than we had left the summit the clouds started to clear. By the time we made it half way down to the timberline it was seemly a nice day again. Oh well, better safe than sorry. There were a few more people behind us going to the summit, but this highest peak in Colorado was certainly not as busy as Longs Peak. The descent to the parking lot was fairly uneventful, save for our encounter with a lost and scared puppy. We had seen the same dog earlier near the summit happily hiking along his owner, so we figured he must got separated from his owner somehow on the way down. The puppy was confused, looking around for his owner, barking and whimpering at the same time. We tried to call him to us and bring him back to the parking lot, but he was scared and didn't want to come to us. Fortunately his owner finally came jogging up the trail looking for him, and he ran to his owner like a bullet, barking happily. A happy ending for all.

The sky is clear again

Photo: Megan Dunn

It was 1:00 pm when we made it back to the parking lot, still early. Megan and I had lunch at a Mexican place in Leadville (I ate half of her food), and then we started driving back to the Boulder/Denver area. I would have liked to spend more time around Leadville, but since we were leaving in two days, it made sense to be closer to Denver tomorrow, so we don't have to drive a long way Saturday night to make our flight.

Another long scenic ride in the mountains of Colorado, we were back to the Front Ranges, spending the night in a little National Forest campground on the Peak to Peak Highway.

Twin Lakes viewed from the summit of Mt. Elbert

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 6 of 8

Waking up late this morning, I was sore all over the place. Megan and I had breakfast, then lazily packed up camp. Today will be a day of rest. We dropped by the Estes Park public library to check weather on Mt. Elbert, then started on the long and scenic drive to Leadville through Rocky Mountain NP.

Aspen trees

The Rockies were really beautiful this time of the year, the mountains were painted with gold by patches of aspen trees. I've never seen aspen trees before. The autumn on the east coast is generally a colorful blend of red, orange, yellow, and green. But the aspen trees were uniformly gold. Whenever there was a gentle breeze, the leaves would shiver in the wind, making the whole forest glint in the sunlight. It was something that had to be seen in person, not a single picture I took could do it justice.

Our auto-tour was nice, allowing Megan and I to place the roles of tourists. Road 34 winded through the forests and alpine meadows in the Rockies, taking us as high as 12,183 feet. I was quite disgruntled when I noted this however, since my highpoint prior to Longs Peak was only 11,239 feet, and I worked hard for 7 hours to get that high. Yet you can drive higher than that in Colorado. It just seemed unfair. And don't even get me started on the mountains on the east coast.

Once out Rockie Mountains NP, we turned west on highway 40, passing rolling hills that looked remarkably like the Sunshine Valley in eastern British Columbia. Soon we came to a little town called Hot Sulphur Springs. Hot Sulphur Springs? I wondered... we stopped in a gas station for a quick break, and I asked the attendant, "this may be a silly question, but is there a hot spring nearby?" "Yes." she answered, and helpfully gave me directions, which was somehow completely wrong. But no matter, we made it to the hot spring after driving several miles in the wrong direction. Ahhhhhh... this was just what the doctor ordered after yesterday's long march on Longs Peak. We soaked our sore muscles in the warm, sulphuric water, watching the sun dipping behind the mountains, the thin clouds in the blue sky, the cute little rabbits hopping around in front of the pools...

Megan playing in a hot spring pool

But all too soon we had to leave the hot springs, if we hoped to make it to Leadville at a reasonable hour. We left the little town of Hot Sulphur Springs, feeling so relaxed that I thought I could fall asleep at the wheel at any moment (but I didn't!), drove through more scenic hills with snow capped peaks in the background, followed the shore of the Colorado River for a while near sunset, and arrived in the town of Leadville two and half hours after dark. We abandoned the idea of finding a campground and cook dinner, opted to have dinner at the local Subway. We then drove to the North Mt. Elbert Trailhead parking lot and crashed in the van.

Rocky Mountain National Park

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 5 of 8

My alarm went off at 1 am. It was earlier than most sane people would start, but after my performance in the last two days, I thought I'd need the extra time to make it up to the summit and get down before the dreaded afternoon thunderstorm Colorado that is famous for. Fortunately Megan required very little coaxing to get going in the morning. We were all geared up and at the trailhead by 1:30 am.

The moon over Longs Peak

The moon was still quite bright right now, only three days passed the full moon. We were able to keep the headlamps off even below treeline. The weather was not perfect, however. The clouds were rolling by very fast, and the wind was very strong. Above the treeline we were facing wind gusts up to 40 mph, which was strong enough to push us around a bit, even upset our balance. I could see there was a weather system that was moving in, and the air temperature was dropping. I was wearing a short sleeve synthetic t-shirt and a long-sleeve synthetic t-shirt, and in my backpack I packed a pair of gloves, a fleece cap, a softshell windstopper jacket, a hooded puffy (polarguard) belay jacket, and a gore-tex hardshell jacket. I had believe that I was overpacking, but "just in case", I thought. A the end I was very glad that I brought everything I packed.

The going was slow, but steady. We were the first ones on the trail, and for a long time seemed like the only one. The Keyhole route took the path of least resistance up Longs Peak, which happened to take us on a spiral path almost 360-degrees around the mountain. By the time we made it to 12,000 feet (my previous high point was Mt. Hood in Oregon, at 11,239 feet), the air temperature was hovering 35-degrees F, and with the windchill well below freezing. I was already wearing my gloves, my fleece cap, and my softshell jacket. We took some short breaks to drink some water and eat some snacks, but the strong wind meant that we get cold very quickly, and had to start moving. We saw some lights far below us around the treeline, we wondered if they were other hikers, but at the end they turned out to be fixed lights from either houses or parking lots. It felt like we had the whole mountain to ourselves, and it was a very spooky feeling.

We made it to the large Boulder Field at around 5:30 am. There were a few tent sites around the area, but they all stood empty, which added to the spooky feeling. Megan and I took another water/snack break by huddling under a big boulder to get a break from the wind. After the Boulder Field, the route finding became more difficult because there wasn't a trail to follow anymore, it became class-2 boulder hopping, and trying to follow cairns, which weren't always visible by the range of the headlamps. We made it to the little stone hut left of the Keyhole (a big hole in the ridgeline) around 6:40 am, and watched from the shelter of the stone hut a very red sunrise.
"Red sky in the morning,
Sailors take warning;
Red sky at night,
Sailor's delight."

A red sunrise

Photo: Megan Dunn

The wind was howling outside the stone shelter. The Keyhole acted as a big wind tunnel, even when clinging to the rocks on all fours, you still felt like you may get blown off the mountain. I had planned to get to Keyhole right around sunrise and hoped the wind would die down a little. But the weather did not look better now the sun is up. The guidebook said the Keyhole is the last good place to turn around if the weather is bad, after the Keyhole the going gets tough. I debated whether to continue or turn around, and asked Megan for her opinion. Being the Weathergirl, she convinced me that the dark ominous clouds were no threat to us at all, we should keep on going.

We crawled around the Keyhole under the rising sun, fortunately the wind on the other side was much calmer than in the wind tunnel. The trail at this point was class 2 or class 3 scramble with a long sloping drop off to one side. It was certainly fairly exposed, but viewing from rock climber's eyes, it wasn't as bad as I had imagined. The wind still gusted up to 30mph once in a while, so I kept my hands on the rock for balance, and we followed the red-and-yellow bull's eye that marked the trail from the Keyhole onward.

Megan scrambling the Trough

We ascended the Trough (a gully filled with loose rocks), traversed across the Narrows (supposedly the most exposed section of the trail), climbed around the Chockstone (supposedly the hardest move on the trail), and soon we were at the Homestretch - the last 300 feet or so of slabs before the summit. I was really sucking wind at this point, climbing very slowly, and stopping to catch my breathe frequently. Megan on the other hand, seemed to be doing really well, maybe she was born a mountaineer.

The Narrows

I pulled myself onto another boulder, and suddenly we were looking at a big flat boulder field. "I think we found the summit!" It was 8 am, it took us 6.5 hours to hike to the summit. The top of Longs Peak was huge and really flat, it didn't really have "summit" feel to it. We looked around for the highest point, and found the USGS marker on one of the boulders on the east side. It was really windy at the top, I put on all the layers I brought with me - the puffy jacket, the gore-tex shell and all. We were the first one to the top that day, there were some dark clouds in the sky, but they were rolling pass really fast, so we stayed at the summit for about half an hour, getting some water and food into our stomach, and taking summit photos. Russell the Moose came out from his hiding place to pose for a summit shot, and he was promptly blown off the boulder he was standing on. He had to hold on to his new friend the Nalgene bottle in order to get his picture taken.

Russell and his new friend the water bottle

Photo: Megan Dunn

After getting rested (and getting cold), Megan and I started hiking back down the mountain. Going down was a little harder on my knees, but much easier on my lungs. It wasn't until the top of the Trough did we meet another hiker. The first one we met was climbing by himself, we later learned from the trailhead register that he started at 5 am and made the roundtrip in just 7 hours. He was flying. We met two more hikers in the Trough, three more before the Keyhole, then 8 on the Boulder Field. It was around 10 o'clock by the time we got to the Boulder Field, but the temperature was still hovering around 40-degrees F. The dark clouds weren't blowing pass us anymore, they were starting to build around us. The people coming up the Keyhole route were asking us about the conditions at the summit, we told them it was windy, and warned them about the weather change.

The changing weather

Photo: Megan Dunn

In total there were 18 people intended for the summit via the Keyhole route that day, I think only about half of us made it to the summit. Some were more prepared than others, and some had dangerously little common sense. The last group (whom we didn't meet on the trail) started at 11:45 am for the summit, tomorrow we would found out from the trailhead register that they didn't make it the summit, and got back to the parking lot at 7 pm.

By the time Megan and I made it back to the parking lot at 1 pm, it had started drizzling. Later that night the drizzle would turn into steady rain, and of course at higher elevation, it would be sleeting and snowing. Some of the people who started late had to hike in the sleet and snow, Megan and I, however, remained dry all day. We took a much needed nap back at the camp that afternoon, and we went to Ed's Cantina (a climber's hangout) in Estes Park for Mexico food that night.

• Peak: Longs Peak in Rocky Mountain NP
  
• Elevation: 14,261 feet
  
• Route: Keyhole Route (class 1 to class 3)
  
• Distance: 16 miles roundtrip
  
• Elevation gain: 4,845 feet
  
• Starting from parking lot: 1:30 am
  
• Summit: 8:00 am
  
• Return to parking lot: 1:00 pm
  
• Stop time (summit, breaks): around 1.5 hours
  
• Moving time: 10 hours
  
• Total time: 11.5 hours
  

Longs Peak

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 4 of 8

Today the plan was to climb some easy trad routes up on Lumpy Ridge, just north of Estes Park, inside Rock Mountains NP. After a late morning start and much scenic stops, we arrived at the parking lot a bit pass noon. The day was hot, much hotter than I thought at 8,000 feet, and all Lumpy Ridge was south facing. Megan and I packed our gear and started hiking toward The Book, but soon I was out of breathe and overheating. After a quick rest under a shady pine tree, we decided to forgo trad climbing, and just go bouldering around the base of Lumpy Ridge instead. We need to save our energy for hiking up to Longs Peak tomorrow.

Megan bouldering at Lumpy Ridge

After getting my butt thoroughly kicked on some slab problem, and getting totally pumped on an overhang traverse, we called it a day, went to the public library at Estes Park to check weather for tomorrow (10% chance of PM showers), then went back to camp, cooked dinner, packed our backs for an alpine start tomorrow morning, and went to sleep.

The Twin Owls at Lumpy Ridge

Photo: Megan Dunn

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 3 of 8

We woke up pretty late today, having gone to sleep at around 3 am last night. After a stop at Wild Oats for grocery and the cranberry walnut scones Megan fell in love with, we made the scenic drive to Estes Park, then to the Longs Peak campground on the eastern side of Rocky Mountain National Park, where we plan to camp for the next three nights.

The campground itself is above 9,000 feet, which was the highest point Megan has been to date. Her previous record was the highest point in Australia, Mt. Kosciuszko (2,229m or 7,310 feet). She would break this record two more times within a week's time, but first, we went on a short acclimatization hike after setting up camp. Not having done any kind of aerobic exercises in the last half year or so, I was going pretty slow. It took us about two hours to get above timberline, which was around 11,000 feet. The scenery reminded me (surprisingly) of Dolly Sods in West Virginia. Or maybe it was the other way around.

We took some pictures, stuck our feet in the bone chilling stream, then went back to camp and turned in after dinner.

Alpine Meadow with Longs Peak in the top left

Avoid horses, they are dangerous

Photo: Megan Dunn

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 2 of 8

Initially, Megan wasn't totally keen on the idea of sleeping in the van, but after one night of surprisingly comfortable rest, she was a convert. We woke up on Sunday fully charged and ready to take on the Flatirons. But first, we made a trip to the Denver REI (one of the biggest REIs in the country) to pick up some fuel for the camp stove and some maps to the Colorado 14er's. While we were getting some information on camping around the Boulder area (not much), Russell the Moose was going wild running outside the REI and playing with some stranger bears he had just met.

Russell the Moose with his new friends

Photo: Megan Dunn

Back to the Flatirons, Megan and I packed a day pack and set off to scout out the approach, the start, and the descent of our intended route, so we don't get any surprises when we try to do it at night. This turned out to be a great idea, I was very glad that we decided not to push on last night, as the descent crossed some talus field. It wasn't difficult to follow in the light of the day, but doing it for the first time at night could potentially be a problem.

I was really out of breathe on the hike in, I blamed it on the altitude (the Flatirons were about 7,500 ft) but in reality, I was quite out of shape. After scouting out the descent trail, we went back to the van so I could take a nap to recharge (it's the altitude!). Then it was cooking dinner and sorting gear. By 7 pm mountain time, the sun was setting, but it was still a bit cloudy. The weather was not as clear as the night before, so I was a bit worried. Megan the Weathergirl assured me the clouds would clear out at night, so we set off as planned. On the hike in, we were rewarded with the sight of a red moon rising over the city of Boulder.

A bathroom on the right? Oh, a badmoon on the rise!

When we got there, there was another party on the standard East Face route (5.4R 8 pitches), but they were already about 4 or 5 pitches up. The route was wide open for us. We roped up and racked up, and Megan took the lead for the first pitch. She climbed mostly by the moonlight, only turning on her headlamp once in a while to look at her gear placements. Soon she found the giant eye bolt that marked the belay for the first pitch, and brought me up. I kept my headlamp off the whole time, using only the moonlight. The moon was up higher now, casting a silver glow on our route, which was east facing. It was bright enough to leave shadows on the rock, which made it sometimes tricky to see your foot placement. Climbing under the full moon was quite an experience, not something you can describe well with words. But I'll try anyway: It was like climbing in an alien world of black and white. It felt really surreal.

Megan shining her headlamp at me from the first eye bolt belay

We exchanged gear at the first eye bolt, and I set off to lead the second pitch (and unbeknownst to me, the third pitch as well). The moonlight was bright enough to see all the immediate moves, but it wasn't bright enough so route finding was interesting, and looking for the bolted anchors was a real challenge. I took what I thought was the easiest path up the slab, but I apparently had gone too far left, which caused me to miss the eye bolt belay for the second pitch. The gear placements were ok when you can get them, but they were hard to spot from afar, so my placements were a bit sparse. But the angle was slow, and the moves were easy. I climbed for what seemed like forever, getting more and more confused because I still haven't found the second eye bolt I was looking for (which was below me at this point), and the rope drag was getting bad enough that if I didn't find the eye bolt soon, I thought I'd get stuck somewhere because of rope drag. Finally I pulled over a lip, and spotted an giant eye bolt right in the middle of the slab.

I anchored in, brought Megan up, and half way up the "pitch" she yelled up, "I found the second eye bolt." Well, no wonder why the last "pitch" felt so long. I unintentionally linked the second and third pitch into one 200-feet pitch, and I placed all six pieces of pro on that pitch.

Megan made it up rest of the way without a pause, took the rest of the gear from me, and started on the fourth pitch. She found the fourth eye bolt anchor, way off to the left, without much trouble. "Mua ha! I have mad eye bolt finding powers!" Well I give her that, so far the record for finding the anchor stood at Megan: 3, Boer: 1. I seconded the fourth pitch, took the gear, lead the fifth pitch, and found the eye bolt this time without trouble, with a little beta from Megan. Megan: 3, Boer: 2.

Megan followed the fifth pitch, we exchanged gear, and she set off on the sixth pitch. She moved steadily up, just when I thought "she's been climbing for a while", and the piles of ropes on my tether to the anchor was getting pretty short, I saw her headlamp shining down at me from what appeared to be a big ledge. The headlamp disappeared again, and soon she called down, "Off belay!", "did you find the eye bolt?" "Nope!" Ahhh, her eye bolt finding power was waning.

I followed her pitch, judging by the distance she had climbed, I think she missed the eye bolt by half a pitch. But I did not find the other eye bolt either. I made it up to what I would call the sixth and half pitch, and took the lead for the next pitch. After a false start of about 30 feet and finding myself off route, I downclimbed and traversed right. According to the guidebook, the last pitch was the crux and runout pitch, but I didn't think it was too bad. The gear was certainly a bit sparse, but after sling a huge plate with a double sling, I climbed about 20-30 feet up and was suddenly at the summit. I had expected one more pitch of climbing, I guess I climbed a pitch and a half as well.

The rap bolts were set back too far from the summit, so I slung a big block with the ropes, and brought Megan up to the top. Looking out to Boulder, and Denver in the distance from the top of the Third Flatiron was really cool. Russell the Moose freesoloed to the summit after us, he posed for a summit shot with Boulder in the background, and then all three of us started the third rappels back to the ground.

Russell the Moose bags another peak

It was well passed midnight by now, we were tired, and Megan was getting a little cold. So we were extra careful, tying stopper knots at the rope ends, and double checking everything. Safely back on the ground, we started the long descent back to the car. This was when I was really glad that we scouted out the trail during the day, there were a couple points in the scramble we could have easily gotten lost in the dark. But nothing bad happened, we got back to the parking lot at 2 am, totally exhausted, but really happy at the same time for having done such a unique climb.

Another night spent sleeping in the van at the Walmart parking lot. Total cost of lodging so far: $0.

• Area: Third Flatiron, Boulder, Colorado
  
• Route: Standard East Face, 5.4R, 8 pitches
  
• Start from parking lot: 7:20 pm
  
• Hike in: 40 min
  
• Start from route: 8:00 pm
  
• Summit: 12:30 am (4.5 hours)
  
• Descent: 60 min
  
• Hike out: 40 min
  
• Return to parking lot: 2:20 am
  

Hiking and climbing in Colorado - Day 1 of 8

Megan and I left DC for Denver, Colorado around noon eastern time. Our airline Northwest had just declared bankruptcy a few days ago, so I was a bit worried. But my worries turned out to be unwarranted, it was business as usual at the Northwest counter in the Regan National Airport.

Two uneventful flights later, with a stopover in Milwaukee airport (probably the most boring airport in the world), we were in Denver. This was my first trip to Colorado. As our small airplane approached Denver International Airport from the east, I was surprised to see how flat eastern Colorado was, and how empty it was. I had expected Denver to be a huge metropolitan area like the large cities on the east coast. The real Denver was quite different than I had imagined.

Making our way to the car rental agency, we had another surprise. I had reserved an compact-class car for our week long stay in Colorado, but what we got was a Chrysler Town & Country van! This would make road-tripping around Colorado so much nicer than in a Dodge Neon. Megan and I folded down all the back seats, and marveled at how much space we had. We could even sleep in the van! Which was what we did when we couldn't find a good place to camp.

Our home away from home for the next week.

Photo: Megan Dunn

My original, somewhat ambitious plan, was to climb the Standard East Face Route (5.4R, 8 pitches) on the Third Flatiron tonight by the full moon. By the time we picked up some groceries (dinner) from the Wild Oats in Boulder and made our way to the Flatirons, I realized just how late it was, and how tired we were. But the moon was very bright though, and the weather was really nice, not a cloud in sight. I toyed with the idea of push on tonight and do the climb, and I discussed this with Megan. At the end, good sense won, we decided to scout out the approach and descent tomorrow during the day, and then climb it at night.

The Flatirons under the stars

Photo: Megan Dunn

For tonight, we drove to a 24-hour Walmart and slept in the very spacious van.

Megan and Russell the Moose in our mobile tent

Camping in Shenandoah NP - Sep 10-11

Megan and I had planned to go backpacking at Mt. Rogers last weekend, but I found out that my new supervisor did not like me taking unpaid leave (during my annual performance review, so I had to work some extra hours on Friday to make up time for our upcoming trip to Colorado. The plan to go backpacking was ruined, we decided to just relax with a camping trip to Shenandoah National Park. We hiked to Hawks Bill so Russell the Peak Bagging Moose can bag the tallest peak in Shanendoah NP; we also hiked Dark Hallow Falls, saw a couple tiny little snakes, a chipmunk, a black bear cub, and a couple deer that were trying to ambush us on the road.

Next weekend, Colorado!

Backpacking in Dolly Sods - Sep 3-5

Two good things happened this weekend.

• We were finally able to pick up Megan's camera from the Seneca Climbing School (she dropped it at Seneca in July).
  
• The weather was gorgeous. Possibly to make up for the miserable excuse of a weekend we spent at the New.
  

Since it was the Labor Day weekend, we figure it would be crowded everywhere: the New, Seneca, Gunks, Coopers. So Megan and I went on a relaxed backpacking trip in Dolly Sods. We left Saturday morning at a very leisurely hour, dropped by the Seneca Climbing School to pick up Megan's camera, and counted 30(!) climbers on the west face of Seneca via a pair of binoculars. And that was not counting the unknown number of climbers in the trees below, waiting to get on the easier routes. We were glad that we decided to go backpacking.

We met up with Jason, Mindy (Jason's wife), their friend Patrick, Oliver (Jason and Mindy's dog), and Shakespeare (Patrick's dog) at the Seneca Climbing School, and we caravanned to the parking lot for Blackbird Knob Trail. After a short hike in, we decided to set up a basecamp on a little island in Upper Red Creek.

The weather this weekend was the best I've seen when visiting Dolly Sods. It was sunny but cool, the humidity was pretty low, and at night the sky was absolutely clear. I was finally able to leave the fly off my tent for once, without the fear of rain. We had a camp fire on both nights, then sat and watched the stars in the sky. The milky way was visible, we saw lots of airplanes, some satellites, and a few meteors.

Megan and I haven't gone backpacking since the last time we were in Dolly Sods in June, it was nice to come out here again and sleep far away from cars and roads, where the only noise at night is the trickling of water from the creek.

I've made fire!

Photo: Megan Dunn