2/5/05 – Mount Parnassus & Woods Mountain – Northwest Ridge & Southeast Ridge

7.5 miles, 3730'


Erin picked Mount Parnassus as our destination for this weekend. We knew that on Friday Steve Hoffmeyer, Jeff Valliere, and a couple others had broken a snowshoe trail up Watrous Gulch and Parnassus' west slopes, so we took advantage of the hard-packed snow they had left behind. We left the Herman Gulch Trailhead at 9:20 and hiked quickly up the broken trail. Once in Watrous Gulch, we could see we were under a massive sheet of a lenticular cloud that was covering most of the Front Range. Even without the sun's rays, in the gulch conditions remained relatively warm and calm. Views south were nice, and I remarked at how from this angle Torreys Peak resembles Longs Peak as it appears from Broomfield. Another treat was to hear a pika's call for the first time in months. We didn't see it, but it must have been on some rocky, south-facing slopes on Parnassus.

As we neared the back of the gulch, we still didn't need to don our snowshoes because Steve and the gang's trail continued to support our weight, even after we turned to the northeast to ascend toward the Parnassus/Woods saddle. On the way up the slopes, we could see that the sun's rays had begun to pierce the cloud, and the first splashes of light were hitting peaks around us, like Mount Sniktau. Higher up, we noticed that the cloud over Parnassus and Bard was among the last to dissipate across the Front Range and the Tenmile Range. The Citadel and Pettingell Peak looked like an oasis from our gloomier locale.

As we approached the ridge's crest, conditions were becoming more difficult. The winds had picked up swiftly. It was the kind of wind that you could start leaning into but it wasn't knocking us around too badly, I'm guessing 40-50 mph. The icy spindrift was stinging our eyes, but we didn't dare remove our gloves to try to retrieve our goggles. I think next time my pair will be more accessible! My real problem, however, was my snowpants. They're getting a little long in the tooth, and I split them right at the crotch, a big gaping hole. Now the chill of the wind was blowing unimpeded onto my longjohn-free legs. I kept needing to turn my back to the larger gusts, squeezing my legs tight together. Having come this far, however, there was no way I was letting Parnassus turn me back, and Erin and I kept on fighting. To top it off, my altimeter picked a rotten time to read high for the first time in what seems like years. The cause must have been a large change in air pressure, but when we were pushing our way to the top, and it read 13,200', I thought we had about 300' left, given that it usually reads low by about 100' at this point in an ascent. But instead we still had another 200' to go when the instrument read that we were at the summit's elevation. I had gotten a little ahead of Erin high on the peak, maybe by a hundred feet, and she told me later that the wind was filling in my tracks completely by the time she reached them.

Near the top, the clouds over us finally broke, and the sun felt heavenly. At the summit, Erin, God bless her, brought out two packs of hand-warmers. My warm mitts now served to bring my camera's battery back to life, and I snapped a shot of Bard Peak and of the peak we climbed two weeks ago, Gray Wolf Mountain. We had planned on making the traverse to Bard Peak and back, but from here the ridge appeared to be very time-consuming. The winds hadn't died down either, as the hole in my pants could attest. I tried to duct-tape my pants, but the spindrift wouldn't have it, whipping around ice crystals and snow, making the tape useless. Fortunately, I didn't have a hard time convincing Erin to turn back.

The descent to the saddle thankfully felt much shorter, and we decided to run over to Woods Mountain before we headed back to the trailhead. This mountain only requires a quick 440' climb from the saddle, only a half-hour's detour. Woods gave us a good perspective on Bard and Parnassus and a look to the intriguing Red Mountain. The sun hadn't been out long enough to warm the snow, so Erin and I didn't even need snowshoes on the return trip. Back in the gulch, Erin stopped me a few feet short of some ptarmigan. We watched them huddled on the trail for a couple minutes before starting up again. Well this motivated the birds into some action, and I think we actually saw one of them glissade to more quickly get away from us. It ducked down, got on its belly, and slid down a small slope before it punched through a soft spot in the snow, hilarious! Blue skies were all around as we descended, and we completed our day with a round-trip time of 6.5 hours.