"We're gonna die!"

Actually there was none of that, but now you've managed to click on this otherwise second rate TR. I'll try to keep it interesting with lots of pics.

With my sheep herders wagon project finally over, I was finally able to schedule some time with my daughter Meaghan. A middle school math teacher in Denver, Meg has been busy with climbing and camping trips throughout the state during her summer break, as well as enjoying a slew of other activities.


Since she is off on Friday to Newfoundland for a 4 day above tree line backcountry trek in Gros Morne National Park, we only had a few days to get together. We hatched a bold and likely stupid plan to ascend Ellingwood Ledges, but really we just wanted to have a good time together.


The Sangre de Christos are only a 4 hour drive for me, and after parking at the trail head and a long slog we arrive at South Colony Lake, elevation 11,800'.


Interesting, but it is the afternoon of July Fourth and none of the scores of people hiking out have any beta on the Crestones, particularly the descent from the Needle down the back side. Hmmm.

A herd of locals signaled arrival at the lake, and assured us a good nights sheep.


No sign of the predicted storms, so we leisurely set up camp.


It thundered and lighteninged and hailed 1/4" from 6-7 pm. Meg fell asleep, and sometime after the storm passed I crept out for a reconnaissance. Hiking up the Crestone trail towards Broken Hand Pass, I gave myself an 8:30 turn around time. Being of dual Smith and Pearson blood, I surveyed the face in the style of my old school countrymen: lazing in the talus whilst contemplating the route over a pipe (this is Colorado, so this last bit likely deviates from Menlove-Edwards).


I got back to the tent just about the time I would have wanted my headlamp.


Meg woke up long enough to discuss our options: go for Ellingwood and trust that we wouldn't need the ice gear that we purposely didn't bring, hike over Broken Hand and see if Crestone Peak or Needle were snow free, or just hike humble Humbolt Peak, which we knew would go. We could then summit and get all the way down to the truck before any afternoon storms, and get home a day early. Meg liked the latter, as it gave her an extra day to prepare for Newfoundland, so we went to bed, slept in, and got a less than alpine start at 7:45 am.





2 1/2 hours up, then 1 hour down to break camp. Another 1 1/4 hour to the truck, and home in time to pick up dinner for the wife, who is picking up the dog from day care. We're so Boulder..


So we failed miserably on Ellingwood, but we're both ok with that.