10/3/04 – Greenhorn Mountain – Bartlett Trail

12.0 miles, 4790'


Erin and I took the time to bag the nagging Pueblo County highpoint, Greenhorn Mountain, last Sunday. Besides its presence on the county highpoints list, is also the highpoint of the Wet Mountains and ranks in at number 11 on the list of Colorado's 100 Most Prominent Peaks. Geologically, the Wet Mountains are actually the southernmost extension of the Front Range; in other words, the same uplift that produced the Front Range peaks also created the Wet Mountains. However, geographically speaking, it's more useful to group these gentle mountains with the nearby Sangre de Cristo Range, separated as they are by only twenty to thirty miles and the Wet Mountain Valley.

To climb Greenhorn, most people drive a long series of dirt roads to the north end of the peak where a lark of a climb – around 5 miles and less than 1000 net feet of elevation gain – awaits. For a peak of Greenhorn's stature, this never felt right to me, so I sought out alternate approaches. I learned about the Bartlett Trail last year, and it seemed like an ideal way to experience the Greenhorn Mountain Wilderness and the Wet Mountains for ourselves.

We left Denver at around 3:00 a.m. that morning and arrived at the 8000' Bartlett Trailhead near the town of Rye at 6:30. We lost about thirty minutes on roads in and around Rye because I accidentally left my Delorme atlas at home. We hit the trail at 7:00, and immediately we had some concerns because of the trail's poor condition. Near the trailhead, it's deeply rutted and this thin rut is chock full of loose rocks. Not the best terrain to hike on! Couple that with some thick vegetation, and we were soon wondering whether we'd have the time for this long hike. Fortunately, the trail is at its worst near the bottom, and as we hiked up a series of switchbacked out of a drainage to reach a small 9000' saddle, it improved dramatically. The aspen were still changing at lower elevations, and one golden hill in particular impressed me as we approached our destination saddle. The trail continued to sneak through thick stands of pines and groves of tall aspen until we reached the saddle, where we could see much of our future. Arroyos cut numerous channels in the forested terrain, and we knew from our maps that the Bartlett Trail would dip in and out of each one of them while hardly gaining any elevation at all for the next couple of miles.

It was interesting to witness the changes in life zones as we switched from dry, shrubby, south-facing slopes covered in low-lying gambel oaks to lush forests of aspen and pines. For a moment, we thought we were about to have a wildlife encounter as we left the saddle. A large animal of some sort was moving through the gambel oaks and making a ton of racket above us. Erin and I froze and went silent, hoping that a deer, elk, or bighorn would cross the trail just a few yards in front of us. Unfortunately, it must have smelled us as it approached because just when we thought we were about to see it, the noises stopped. We moved on, captive to the views of rolling hills, gentle ridges, and luminous aspen. We were truly enjoying our encounter with nature on smaller scale than on our typical hikes and climbs. The Wet Mountains were beginning to feel like Pueblo's version of the Lost Creek Wilderness. Every now and then, we'd notice some rock formations that reminded us that the Wet Mountains have their own brand of ruggedness, as well.

Every time we rounded a ridge we thought, "Surely, this must be the last one!" but there was always another arroyo to dip into, another ridge to turn round. Finally we started to switchback up a hillside – one that must have been glorious a week or two ago, but was now barren of any leaf-bearing aspen. We knew now that we were getting close to the Wet Mountains' crest, and we caught our first views south to the Spanish Peaks and southwest to the Sierra Blanca. The Bartlett Trail clearly is not used very often because grasses have nearly overtaken it high on the mountain. We got a peek at Greenhorn's summit soon after, just before we lost the trail in a burn area with a lot of deadfall. But we had seen the summit and knew exactly where to go. We picked up the trail again in the open tundra, which was dusted with a few inches of snow. We took our first break on a log with a commanding view of the Sangres. It was satisfying to see more than a score of Sangre peaks that we've summitted from our vantage point. After eating our sandwiches, we started toward our final push up Greenhorn's south slopes. The slopes looked really loose from our break spot, but they were actually very stable, a mix of tundra and solidly lodged rock. We topped out a few minutes later at noon. We had the summit to ourselves for a while before we noticed a pair of hikers and their dog coming our way on the ridge between Greenhorn and North Peak, but we left long before they arrived.

The hike out seemed longer, especially the section dipping in and out of the arroyos, but we made it back quickly. Near the trailhead Erin pointed out the pines, which were holding aspen leaves in decorative fashion. We both wondered if scenes like this had inspired the original pagan tradition to cut down trees, take them into the home, and adorn them with ornaments. We passed by a local who was taking a short afternoon hike about a half-mile from the trailhead, and she would be the only person we encountered that day. We made it back to the car three and a quarter hours after we left the summit.

Sunday just felt like the right time to hike up Greenhorn. Additional snow could have made the upper portions of the trail difficult to find, and we got to walk through grove upon grove of aspen at lower elevations in their full autumnal splendor. Last, hiking on the Bartlett Trail had a sense of exlcusivity to it that gave the day a private and intimate feel. Truly a great day in the hills!