8/5/07 – Fletcher Mountain – Southeast Ridge

5.7 miles, 2580'


After camping in Spruce Creek with Tiffany and Rustin, we got a late start Sunday morning, cooking chicken sausages on Rustin's grill before packing up. We didn't get to lower Blue Lake where the current road closure is until after 9:00. Our friends outfitted their lab, Brent, with his doggie backpack, and we were on our way with our sights set on Erin's and my final centennial 13er in the Tenmile/Mosquito Range, Fletcher Mountain. We hiked to the dam, which is currently under construction, but then we had a tough time finding the right trail. For some reason, we skipped the first trail that we came upon but tried the next two, each of which were really loose and inappropriate for a young, inexperienced pup like Brent. Finally we backtracked to the first trail that left almost immediately after the dam, and this was the right one, cutting deftly through the willows and leading us to the basin between Quandary and Fletcher. Unfortunately, once we climbed higher into this basin, we reached a section of Class 2+ trail that Brent couldn't handle. Erin and I parted ways with Rustin, Tiff, and the dog, with the intention of meeting them on the trail or at the parking lot.

Erin and I sped along to the flats beneath Fletcher. Erin wasn't feeling atop her game, but we still made excellent time to the summit. Like yesterday, the weather was unsettled, but aside from a few sprinkles, it never amounted to anything. We gawked at Quandary's west ridge and the fiendish ridge running from Fletcher to Atlantic before beginning our descent. We picked a more efficient line back to the lower basin, including a short glissade on a lingering snowfield. Back in the basin, we met a young woman who was watching her boyfriend and his climbing partner ascend Quandary via a non-standard route on its southwest slopes. I must say, I wouldn't have wanted to have been up there on those spire-riddled and loose-looking slopes! She informed us that Tiff and Rustin were only fifteen minutes ahead of us, so we redoubled our efforts. As we hiked down the road, we couldn't tell if they were still at the lot. As we drew within a few hundred yards, though, we saw Rustin's red truck pulling about to leave. We dashed toward them, arms flailing, but they never saw us! We got back to the 4Runner a few minutes too late. Distracted by our blown meeting, we forgot all about our intentions of driving back via Boreas Pass and US-285, and we got stuck in the most miserable I-70 traffic we've had to endure all this summer.

Wheeler Mountain
marmot
wildflowers
Fletcher Mountain & mining cabin
crossing the creek
Fletcher Mountain
Atlantic, Pacific & Crystal Peaks
Quandary Peak
Drift Peak
Erin glissading