Crossing the Rocky Mountain Range

We breakfasted at a Waffle House, which was pretty horrible (Leon experimented unsuccessfully with grits, not good) and then drove to Denver International Airport to pick up our rental (Nissan 4WD truck). After some screw-ups we managed to force the jeep through a car wash. Crawling through heavy traffic in downtown Denver we turned north onto the I-25 towards Fort Collins, stopping at a gas station with an agonizingly bovine stench place to vacuum out the jeep. We arrived at the client's house about 50 minutes early, so we went and had a late lunch at a nearby coffee shop.

On returning we met the client at her home. She was cool and thankful and friendly, very happy to have her jeep back. After going through some formalities we racked off to the nearest climbing store and replenished our gear losses. I managed to replace my #6 BD wired-nut, but not the MacGregor nut (Wild Country #6) that we had abandoned in Seneca.

Following smaller roads west we passed through some terrific looking canyons and onto something of a plateau lying immediately before the Rocky Mountain National Park. The town is called Estes Park and there appear to be a large number of biggish walls within spitting distance of its limits. We saw a climbing gym, at least one climbing gear shop and a mountaineer school as well. Hmmm, maybe we should camp here for the evening and see if this crappy weather (it had closed in again) lifts in the morning.

There were small herds of deer wandering about town like dog packs, which we found slightly surreal. Just out of town we found a big YMCA (Young Miscreant's Cultist Alliance) facility which had cheap digs. We scored a basic room in an almost empty building and, ditching all of our gear inside, hiked off towards the nearest high point. The place was surround with spectacular little hills, some of which still wore their winter caps of snow. We could also see the shoulders of the giants to the west, but no more of them than that.

Leon found a trail that lead up to the summit of a nearby hillock, and we trudged up that. My perpetual lowland upbringing caught up with me very quickly and I lagged behind the tireless Mexican. I guess I'm not as thought as I fit, I supposed somewhat indistinctly to myself as we reached an outcropping of rock.

Leon seemed a bit concerned. So would you if it looked like you might have to carry 150 pounds of dying Aussie back down the hill. "Are you ok?"

I gasped and coughed out an affirmative response, hoping my lungs wouldn't burst. I sought to comfort myself with the knowledge that we started this hike at 8000 feet, and we would gain another 1200 feet at the top of this hill. Of course I'm having difficulties, I thought, it's the altitude and not my sedentary existence. Were I not a creature of the shoreline this would be much easier. With these dubious considerations came a modicum of relief, of a sort.

Following a short break, we pushed on for the summit and gained it about an hour from when we had started hiking in the first place. Looks like I need training, damn it, and I have avoided training all of my life. However, even though the climb had turned me into a ninety-year-old asthmatic I was still able to appreciate the view from the top.

It was 6.30 pm and we could see the lights of Estes back down the valley. Snow was flitting down on us and towards the west looked like some approaching weather. When I regained enough of my breath to form coherent sentences, we decided to go back down. Leon claimed that the altitude was noticible for him too, but I think he was just being a good sport.

Back at the room Leon cooked up rice and franks in the bathroom where there was an extractor fan, I loafed on the bed and made all sorts of mental promises to myself about sharting to shape up. We spent a few hours discussing the weather and perusing "Desert Rock" (yet another guidebook on loan to us from John Peterson). If the weather is good tomorrow maybe we'll look for something to climb here, if it's crap we'll cross the Rockies and head for the deserts on the other side.

There was a phone in the building's common room, so I called up Leila to tell her how things were going.

Estes Park (Colorado) Thursday March 29 (2524.9 miles)

In the morning we find that it's overcast and we are afforded no better view of the high mountains than the previous day. Leon wants to cross the Range by driving through the nearby Rocky Mountain National Park. We set off, passing spectacular (albeit small) pinnacles of stone on the way. At the park entrance we are charged $15. It is certainly a beautiful place, and on a clear day the peaks would probably look amazing. Leon was not overjoyed by the weather, neither was I. Our mood darkened considerably when we find, about 15 miles up the road, that the pass is in fact closed (no obvious signage indicates this fact at the entrance).

So we drove back out and through Estes, turning south and following a series of small roads towards the I-70. Longs Peak, an absolutely stellar climbing destination, passes unseen on our right. It rains, it snows, in short it sucks. The I-70 took us through a spectacular series of canyons and then up over an 11000 foot pass. Beyond that our road shadowed the infant Colorado river as we made our way down to the western plains. The whole trek across the Rockies was marked by heavy clouds, fog and constant precipitation (snow, rain and often both at the same time).

We reached Grand Junction (at the confluence of the Colorado and Gunnison rivers) 28 miles east of the Utah border. Stopping for food somewhere we ate and watched the last rains of the day pelt down over the city. To the west we could see gloriously blue skies. But here we were very close to our goal for the day, because a weakly thrown stone south lies the Colorado National Monument.

We headed to the western entrance of the Monument and proceded to follow the entire length of Rim Rock Drive. Many times we stopped to stare at and photograph the awesome canyons and incredible formations throughout. Independence Monument, the areas centerpiece, looked especially fantastic in the dying afternoon light. We returned in darkness and set up camp at the campgrounds adjacent to the visitor center. We then explored a nearby formation by headlamp, scrambling and scrabbling around looking for a way to the top. Fortunately, we couldn't find any such egress.