4-Pass Loop & Avalanche Pass, 7/18-25, 2009

Day 2

Morning came early, as it usually does in the summer, which was just before 6:00, and unfortunately, or fortunately, there were no clouds to be seen. Unfortunately, because I'm here to take pictures; fortunately, because I have another pass to climb up and I don't want any signs of storms. Well, I would rather have clouds, truth be told. There weren't any clouds to go along with the alpenglow, but thankfully, at 6:35, some small puffy clouds started to roll in over Snowmass Mountain, and a few minutes later, I had real good material to work with. Those clouds were all I needed to make this stop a successful one.

After the light wasn't doing too much more to necessitate any more pictures, I headed back to camp and packed up. I was back on the trail at 9:20. The first mile or so sees a gradual downhill descent before leveling off until the Snowmass Creek crossing with the wooden footbridge. From here, it starts going uphill. Perhaps midway up from the valley floor and Buckskin Pass, the scene that I was looking forward to most on the loop portion of the trip started to unfold—that of Snowmass Mountain's snowfield. Sure, you can see it from Snowmass Lake, but the scene is so flat since you're so close to its base that it isn't that impressive from there. You always have to get a little ways away from mountains to see their vertical rise and prominence better. I was really living the high life now (queue Steve Winwood).

At the last main patch of trees the trail goes through, and where a couple stream flow by, I took an extended break and filtered a full supply of water to have during my overnight say at the top. Little did I know I'd return here later on. A little ways up at tree line, I found a boulder that I could sit on and have lunch looking at Snowmass Mountain all the while. I finally made the pass at 5:10 and the skies were mostly clear and non-threatening and looked good for the night ahead. I set up the tent and started taking pictures. Man, what an extremely impressive view. I kept taking pictures. Eventually, a mom and kid goat appeared for a little over five minutes and I took a number of pictures of them, though none too great being that my longest focal length with me was 105mm. Some darker clouds had started to form overhead, but there was still a big opening to the west, so I didn't think much of it.

A little after the sun set, the clouds to the west started to fill in and go gray, and some rain clouds appeared behind Capitol Peak. This is definitely not what I had in mind or wanted to see! I was now on full alert trying to get a feel for if it was going to approach closer, and also trying to decide if I should pack up my tent to be safe. I stood there waiting awhile, but was quickly running out of light to be able to see exactly what was going to develop. Not very comforting. When it was mostly dark, it started to sprinkle. I was still undecided if I should pack up the tent. But what if it the storm started to let loose and lightning was in the area? Do I lose that precious time to get downhill into the trees? Well, rain did start to show up just this side of Snowmass Mountain and I decided I'd wait along the trail below the last switchback behind a tree not much taller than I am along with some tall willow bushes that line the trail. I figured I'd leave the tent up and I'd just wait for the storm to pass, but it sure was moving rather slowly. Rain finally started to fall in earnest with some strong winds. I was really hoping my tent was secure and was going to hold on. I surely didn't want to lose it and my sleeping bag only to read about it landing in Aspen some time later. The tree I was leaning into kept most of the rain from hitting me. Up until this point, there had been no signs of lightning. I don't know how long I stayed by my tree, and now well dark, but a couple flashes in the western sky did finally reveal themselves. This really was a slow-moving storm. Lightning wasn't too frequent, but one particular one was maybe about 5-10 miles away and that was enough for me. My mind was made up—the storm was still coming and it wasn't going to stop and could be here awhile. The tent is going to have to stay to the top, and I thought even if I return at midnight after the storm is over I will.

I headed down 900 feet back to where I had taken a break and filtered water earlier in the day, but honestly, even if I were 100 feet underground and still outdoors, I would still feel like the highest object around! I honestly have no idea why I got into this whole backpacking thing! I feel like a nervous wreck when lightning is present. I don't really remember any additional lightning during the way down. It was 11:00 at this point and I was beat. I tried resting/sleeping on a the end of a fallen tree (pictured) near a stream to pass some time, but within ten minutes I thought I heard some additional noises. You know, like the previous night's noises at Snowmass Lake—something rustling about! Tough to say for sure, though, if it was just the sound of the stream rushing or something else, Regardless, I wasn't staying there any longer, and I headed to the other side of the trail where it was quiet, and actually was a campsite with a fire ring. I ended up only seeing about a couple more reflected lightning flashes on the sky overhead, but I wasn't sure where it was coming from. There were still clouds, so I wasn't about to go back up the pass. I tried lying down and sleeping on the dirt with my knife at the ready beside me. Did I say I was beat? Man, I was dead-tired. Well, that ground was no fun. It was super hard on the back, and even the knee pad I set on a rock for a pillow was still rock-hard. I tried this for about ten minutes, but this just wasn't going to work. When I got up, surprisingly, the stars were out in full force above and I saw no signs of clouds of any size to speak of. I debated for a moment, but decided I couldn't sleep anyway, so I'm going to head back up the 900 feet to the pass and get some rest. I filtered and topped off my water before I left. It was now about midnight.

A couple minutes up the trail, I looked off to the right. I saw two pairs of beady eyes on other side of stream, perhaps 250 feet away, staring right at me. “Are you kidding me?! This just keeps getting better and better!” Well, now I'm certainly wide awake. I yelled a few times, but those things didn't budge. Deer? Bigger than that?! No idea. I was not comfortable! I walked at a brisk pace with a slight bit of adrenaline shooting through. That, with the slightly lighter pack without the tent and sleeping bag, I was able to go a ways before I rested. I think it took me right around 50 minutes to get back up to the pass, but I made it! Oh, how good it was going to feel to lie down on something soft, and get some sleep! The sky was still cloudless and crispy clear, and it was looking good. Getting up for sunrise would surely be tough at this point, but I didn't care, at least I was going to pack in some solid sleep. Right?

When I got all tucked in the sleeping bag, there was a problem—seemingly every time I inhaled or moved slightly, I would pull the cool air in from outside the bag around my neck where it hit my sweat from the hike up. It was not conducive to sleep. I could not win! I did end up getting 50 minutes of sleep when, probably shortly after 3:00, the wind started up. Probably not a minute after, what was that? Sleet?! What the heck? It was totally clear a very short 50 minutes ago! You've got to be kidding me. I was once again wide awake. It fell fairly lightly and almost stopped when I looked out the tent. I still didn't see any clouds to speak of, but couldn't tell that well. Another very short time later, the wind got very strong (40+ MPH, I would hazard a guess) flapping the tent, and the sleet absolutely being driving down on the tent. It was rather loud and I was now scared for my life! I jumped out of my bag and had another look out the vestibule frantically looking for lightning. I didn't see any, but didn't look for very long. I just knew I didn't have much time before lighting hit. This time I'm packing up my sleeping bag because at least if the wind takes my tent this time, I'm not losing my bag, too. I can't tell you how scared I was! I got my things together and I was half-running down the trail and took cover by my tree again. I possibly would've ran faster, but my pack with camera gear prevents me from doing such. The sleet stopped and I never did see any lightning. There was no way I was going to take another chance in the tent being caught by surprise. There was only another hour of darkness before first light hit. I was going to keep an eye on the sky. Oh what a most unforgettable night. It was a battle of the mind, endurance and whatever else.

Day 3

I was so thankful when first light came an hour or so before sunrise. I made it! i lived! It was so peaceful without a hint of a breeze at 12,500', though mostly overcast. As the sun neared the horizon, the colors started to explode. It turned out to be a rather productive morning of picture-taking, and somehow all the efforts and struggle of the night paid off. I was now two-for-two at my first two stops. I shot for most of an hour before the sun was totally blocked out. I then proceeded down the hill.

Around tree line, I stopped for a breakfast break at a scenic campsite with an open view of North Maroon Peak and ended up preparing a Mountain House meal since I didn't get to eat a meal the previous night. After I had my fill, I headed down the rest of the way and ran into more and more people heading up. Virtually, the whole distance to Crater Lake from the pass is a very steep grade. It has to be nothing but brutal going up. I knew at this point I made the right decision to go clockwise around the loop.

Along Crater Lake, there were quite a number of people out and about. I continued up the West Maroon Creek valley running into a number of groups on the way down, but only a couple others going in the same direction. I ended up making camp at about 11,200' in a treed section. I couldn't tell how many trees there were further up the trail as it opens up quite a bit. All I knew is I wanted as many trees around me this night in case of another storm. It never did storm, and I had a good night's rest.

Snowmass Peak (13,620', most prominent), Hagerman Peak (13,841', immediately to the right)
and Snowmass Mountain (14,092', left point) from Snowmass Lake

Snowmass Lake

After a cloudless sunrise, these wonderful clouds were a very welcome addition

It seems this rocky shore section with reflection is somewhat of an obligatory shot for many visitors to Snowmass Lake

Starting the trek towards Buckskin Pass near Snowmass Lake

An open view of the Bells along the way

Snowmass Creek crossing. From here, it's uphill the rest of the way.

Snowmass Mountain starting to reveal itself again

Now that most incredible view of Snowmass Mountain and its wonderful signature snowfield takes on full shape after
gaining a little elevation and distance away from it

Looking up to Buckskin Pass

Going up

Now Capitol Peak (14,130') is in view just left of center, and along the trail just
past a tree I would later use for shelter a few times

At the last switchback looking to Buckskin Pass

Buckskin Pass and looking southwest

All set up on Buckskin Pass with Pyramid Peak directly behind the tent with North Maroon Peak
and Maroon Peak barely showing itself on the far right

High camp at 12,500'

Tundra slope and looking over to Snowmass Lake

Unnamed 12,942' and the West Maroon Creek valley

Pyramid Peak (14,018'), left with the Maroon Bells and Sleeping Sexton on the right

Looking over to Trail Rider Pass, the distant saddle in right-center

Capitol Peak view

"What is that guy doing, Mom?"

As usual, mountain goats are willing subjects

Afternoon walk

7:45 PM: “Um, is that rain behind Capitol?” What the heck is going on this time of day? We have afternoon thunderstorms, not evening thunderstorms, and we rarely get thunderstorms during the night. Right?! Okay, sky, you have my full attention.

Very unsuccessfully trying to sleep on a suspended tree with both legs on the ground. Uh, yeah, that didn't work so well.
With a noisy stream about 20 feet behind me, I kept hearing things. So, I moved across the trail to a quiet area . . .

My next bed was made up of dirt and pine needles. Not that my pillow was any softer. At least it was wider than that tree! Note my knife at the ready if anything thought they were up for a midnight snack. My back and head could only take about 10 minutes of lying down before they had enough. I then decided to walk back up 900 feet to the pass and my tent.

Hagerman, Snowmass, and Capitol all lit up

The next morning starts out with a bang with unnamed 12,942' on the right

Unnamed 12,942' (left) and looking across to Hayden Peak (13,561') on the far ridge

North Maroon Peak (14,014') and Sleeping Sexton. Oh man, that light was something. It showed up pretty quickly and I didn't have a chance to get set up with a foreground.

North Maroon Peak and Sleeping Sexton

Photo perch

A view that became an instant favorite (note that I have many favorites!)

After the light was done atop Buckskin, I started down the trail with Pyramid Peak ahead. The trail goes to
Pyramid's base, then heads up the valley to the right.

Looking back up to Buckskin Pass

North Maroon Peak. Once in the trees just off-frame to the left, I took a breakfast break.

Looking back up one of the steepest sections of trail and up to the pass.
The whole thing has a very unforgiving grade for the uphill traveler.

Looking up to North Maroon Peak

Looking up to Sleeping Sexton

Crater Lake and the West Maroon Creek valley which leads to West Maroon Pass.
Unnamed 13,631' (snow-patched peak) and Len Shoemaker Ridge, the lower prominent point at 12,875'