1/14/06 – Hunts Peak – West Ridge

6.2 miles, 3560'


Erin's and my sole mountain goal for our trip to Colorado was to climb a new 13er. We moved from Colorado in August with 109 13ers, a tally that left us unsatisfied, so we wanted to nudge that mark up to the nice, round figure of 110. We spent much of the trip regaining our hiking legs. After a few foothills, an 11er, and a couple of 12ers, we felt we were ready for the bigger challenge. We floated several ideas around for our 13er. We oft considered climbing a peak in the Front Range while we were back in Denver; Flora and Eva perhaps? But each time we had an opening for a climb, the Front Range was totally socked in, usually with the exception of the Evans massif where no 13ers remain unclimbed for us. To be most forthcoming, however, our thoughts were completely trained on the Sangre de Cristos. We had imposed a Sangre sanction on ourselves after we climbed Pico Asilado in July because we felt we were churning through them too quickly, but our attention was rapt with continuing reports from FourteenerWorld of a minute snowpack in the range, which stood in stark contrast with the northern mountains in the state.

Erin's busy work schedule left us with just one more chance to try our 13er climb: Saturday, the day before we leave again for Pittsburgh. Thankfully the mountain gods stayed an impending storm one last day and provided a beautiful, nearly cloudless day for our endeavor. We had a great group put together for the climb: John Kirk, Dwight Sunwall, and Kurt Traskos. To think, in all the times Erin and I have hiked with these guys, only twice before – once on Mount Buckskin and once as part of a large group on the Arapaho Peaks – had all five of us been on a hike together.

What to climb? I entertained a number of peaks both on the east and west side of the range, but Kurt suggested one that I hadn't thought of, Hunts Peak. No one in our group had climbed Hunts, the northernmost 13er in the Sangres, and with its short approach from the west, we decided this was our best choice.

Kurt and John met us at Erin's mom's house at 3:00 a.m., and after an unreasonably long search for a gas station that would pump in the middle of the night, Erin started the familiar drive down US-285. The full moon shone brightly over South Park and provided fodder for Coast to Coast's late night talk radio (a full moon in conjunction with Friday the 13th triskaidekaphobia really gets those guys going!). We met Dwight in Poncha Springs, and then we caravaned about 5 miles south of Poncha Pass to the unmarked turn onto FS-980. Two of the junctions were marked, but many were not. With more roads in the area than our maps indicated, we were suckered into a few wrong turns. We tried another path, and we thought we had made a bad choice yet again, since the road seemed to be heading away from the mountains. It finally swung back to the northeast, following along Yankee Creek, and we knew we were back on track. The road became icy soon after we entered the forest, and having recently passed no reasonable spots, we simply parked in the middle of the road. Hopefully no one wanted to make a 4WD loop out of the North and South Rock Creek roads that day!

We geared up and started hiking the road at 7:30. We tried to make one more wrong turn when we headed left onto the road that leads to North Rock Creek, but fortunately Dwight had the topo map loaded onto his GPS and alerted us to our error. Leaving the snowshoes in the car was a good choice for once because the road had only a marginal snow cover. It felt great to be hiking in the crisp morning air again! True to Sangre form, the road climbed steeply up the drainage, and we had 1000' behind us in about 45 minutes. Not bad for a couple of flatlanders and one guy (Kurt) with a cold! One of the first views behind us that morning was of Aetna and Taylor to the northeast.

The road turned southeast to run alongside South Rock Creek's south fork, and we kept following it toward the rear of this small basin until it made a major switchback. Here, Kurt suggested we just start climbing the west-facing hill before us, but the road tempted us to keep following it with promises of leading us 400' higher on this same hill. Or so the map said. One more large turn later, and the road came to a dead-end. The initial bushwhack from the dead-end was slippery and quite steep, and looking north to one of Hunts' subpeaks I found myself wishing for the bare slopes across the drainage. Before long we reached a more reasonable grade, and we could now see across the San Luis Valley to Mount Ouray and Antora Peak, who'd keep us company throughout the climb. We emerged at treeline near 12,000' and got our first look at Hunts. We came up and over a small hillock and then climbed to the crest of Hunts' west ridge to face the final thousand feet of our climb.

Dwight pulled far ahead of the rest of us on this final push to the summit, showing off the iron quads and lungs he's developed climbing 14ers all winter! The rest of us huffed and puffed our way to the top, with Hunts' north ridge helping us gauge our progress. I felt a second wind come on during the last couple hundred feet as the excitement of summitting my first 13er in months built. We made it atop the peak at around 11:00. Dwight was retrieving the summit register and pointed out a nice spot to shelter us from the wind. We bundled up and started eating a well-deserved snack. Erin and I enjoyed tuna salad sandwiches, and Kurt and John brought some hummus and pitas. I think those pitas were too much for John to handle, though, because he fumbled the summit jar, and we all watched it bounce down the rocks a few times before it shattered. John, you'll probably have to add a new accident to your site when someone cuts themselves and bleeds to death on Hunts' northeast ridge! :)

The summit offered far-reaching views. John identified Mount Evans over 80 miles to the north and Bennett Peak almost 70 miles to the south. Nearer by, we could see Princeton and its Chalk Cliffs reigning over the Arkansas River Valley and indomitable Ouray. I took the most pleasure, however, in peering down the Sangre's lengthy spine all the way down to the Blancas!

Even with the sunshine and our shelter from the wind, we got cold on the summit quickly. It was time to get on the move again, and we made quick work of the descent back to 12,000'. On the way, Erin pointed out Hayden Peak, a nice-looking 12er with a pretty east face. To steal a phrase, we tipped our hats to Hunts and began the descent to the road. This time we followed Kurt's suggested ascent route, and we found much easier terrain all the way back to the road. The pine and aspen forest was enchanting next to the icy, gurgling creek, and we got back to the cars at 1:15.

As typical, I took a number of shots from the valley floor along the drive out. Here's one of Cottonwood Peak, and here's a group of Hunts shots: Hunts from the approach roads, Hunts and barn, and Hunts from the north end of the valley. We ate at the First Street Cafe in Salida where our waitress talked more about serving us than actually doing so. Afterward, we parted ways with Dwight who was thinking about spending the night in the valley. We remaining four talked mountains the whole way back, but I found myself focusing on taking in the beautiful surroundings of the Arkansas Valley and South Park. It's hard being away from this gorgeous state! John had said that he would come on this climb contingent on us making it back to town for the Broncos game. We got back to Denver just in time to watch their bizarre contest with the Patriots that evening. So it's Broncos vs. Steelers this weekend, which is something of a coincidence!

Thanks, guys, for helping make our climb a success on Saturday!