After getting stranded in Charlotte overnight and missing the first standby by the width of a hair (I was actually standing on the plane when the stewardess informed me that there were no seats and that I needed to get off the plane), I landed in Denver in mid-afternoon. The good thing was that my bags were waiting for me and I found them right away. Ken showed up a moment later and we headed out to his house in Aurora where we organized a bit and then headed out for the six hour drive that would take us beyond Silverton to the Molas Pass trailhead. We decided we'd just camp there and head out in the morning. If we felt good, we'd climb one of the peaks the same day and more the next.

Vestal Peak in the distance

We passed Silverton late, around 11pm and decided to start looking for places to camp should the trailhead not have good spots. We found a hairpin turn just beyond the town with a turnout and a creek running by where we decided to bed down for the night. We used the car to block part of the turnout so we wouldn't inadvertently get run over in the night. The creek provided welcomed white noise, but the occasional downshifting 18-wheeler could still stir us out of our sleep. The following morning, we went another few miles and arrived at the spacious parking lot that looked over lovely open meadows with occasional tree stands and the Grenadier Range beyond. As we started organizing the gear, I realized that I didn't have my Beta Light with me! Dang, what to do now? If the forecast is good in the Cascades, you can feel a little more confident in taking the risk of not having shelter for the night, but Colorado's weather is much more fickle. Ken persuaded me not to take the chance and we instead decided to go to Silverton to find a tarp or something. It was about 7:30am and we realized we might have to wait until 10am or so, assuming there was a store in the little town. Surprisingly, we found an outdoors store. On top of that, the store opened at 8am. I found a $6 tarp that I quickly purchased and we were off.

(l-r) Me near Molas Pass, The Durango-Silverton Narrow Gauge Railway, Vestal and Arrow Peaks above a Beaver Pond at the Elk Creek turnoff

The Molas Lake trail strolls along open meadows for a while then descends precipitously, about 1500 feet, into the Rio de las Animas Perdidas Valley. This wouldn't be a pleasant return trip. We followed the narrow gauge railroad tracks for a bit until the Elk Creek Trail turnoff. This is part of the Colorado Trail and is an excellent trail. We followed this trail for a few miles, ascending into the valley to the first valley on the right, where we'd cross Elk Creek, and ascend into the basins beneath the small Grenadier subrange. The trail was nice and moderate and I was surprised that I wasn't feeling too many effects from the altitude. So far, I was pleased with the ease of the trails, glad to have a reprieve from the difficult and spotty Cascade trail. However, the turnoff up the Vestal valley reminded me a lot of the Cascades. It ascended steeply, traversing cliffs, crossing over small creeks on loose gravel spread over rocks requiring special attention. We had been making excellent time, but our strength was waning as we headed up. A couple of breaks ruined any speed records we were going for (actually, we weren't close to any speed records). Finally, after a significant descent to Vestal Creek, we ascended again and arrived at a broad marshy meadow underneath Arrow Peak. We set up camp at the far end of it, the eastern end. We thought maybe we could quickly climb Wham Ridge, which towered above the valley, so we put together our gear and headed up. When we arrived at one of the high meadows just above treeline, we realized the folly of this endeavor; we were tired and it was around 4:30pm. So, instead we scouted out the crossing of the marsh, hung out in the valley for a while (I rejuvinated my tired feet in the creek), and then headed back down. We decided to crag for a while on some small cliffs near our campsite. We then had dinner and went to sleep. We both slept well, but were awakened in the night by the howling of coyotes all around us. Ken got up and said something like, "Hey, did you hear that? I'm going to get a club! Do you want one?" I lazily responded, "Yeah, sure." I was so sleepy, I barely recalled this conversation but awoke in the morning to see a big stick next to me...my club. Thanks, man! Reminds me of the funny times in Colorado where we'd be camping out, then decide to pick up some sticks to practice "sword fighting". Funny stuff that folks do while hanging around the campsite.

(l-r) Closeup of Vestal Peak and Wham Ridge (center), me hanging out on a rock in the marshes, Ken pumping water near camp

(above) Rappelling after some semi-grungy cragging

We were a little lazy, sleeping in to about 6:30. The morning was clear and warm in the sun. We packed up and were hiking by 7, retracing the steps that we'd taken the day before on our scouting exercise. We had picked Wham Ridge to climb for my trip because we both had been wanting to for a while, it was remote, it was moderate, and it was an impressive sight. Other options had included: The North Ridge of the Spearhead, Ellingwood Arete on Crestone Needle, and Kiener's Route on Long's Peak. I'm glad we did Vestal. As we approached it from the east (a more direct western approach was riddled with cliffs), the sweeping ridge, actually a face, looked more and more appealing.

(above) Vestal Peak and Wham Ridge in yo' face just above Vestal Lake. (my photo)

(above) Looking up the climb.  Looks fun, eh?

We decided that we'd start low on the face, near the middle, and go straight up, eventually aiming for the western ridge, the official route. We put on our shoes and scampered up. We made quick time up the low angled slab. The angle ever-so-slowly increased and we roped up above the last grassy ledge. Above us I could see a crack system running up the steeper face. The climbing was so fun that we were up for a harder climb than the 5.4 ridge. So, I went directly up the face.

(above) I'm an alien wishing for Alien cams

The best gear for this climb is thin wires and micros cams. I didn't have much of either so I ended up running out a lot of the pitches. The climbing was so solid though that I felt fine with it. By the third pitch, I was raving at the quality of the climb. "Dang, this ought to be added to the classics of North America!", I thought. The jams were solid and there were plenty of holds everywhere you needed one. Occasionally, there was a harder 5.6 move, but never sustained. Above the crack system, we intersected the ridge.

(l-r) Looking up the route, looking down the route
(my photos)

We had paid scant attention to the guidebook and stuck to the ridge proper for the remainder of the climb. Actually, by climbing the face, we had done the 5.6 variation and by sticking to the ridge we had avoided the "4th class" face higher up. The ridge proved to be the most tedious and slow part of the climb and my quick judgement of "classic" status wore off some. There were many twists and turns to be made and, because of the rope drag, I had to stop and belay instead of simul-climb. On all of the previous pitches, we'd been able to simul climb for a bit, not very long though due to the small rack. At one point, high on the ridge, I was faced with two difficult options, the best one being a short bulging crack that looked strenuous. Not wanting to subject Ken to climbing that with the pack on, I found a third option that traversed along the exposed ridge. I tried to set directionals on the rope so Ken would see where to go, but I don't think I was that successful. Ken ended up climbing the short overhang, commenting later on how hard it was. We continued for one more pitch up easy terrain with a few 5th class moves to the false summit. I descended to a small col, then climbed up to the true summit. The rope hung high in the air between the two summits and curved in the wind. Ken topped out, relieved that the climbing was done, and I belayed him up the rest of the way.

(above) Climbing on the route.  See the leftmost crack in the top photo?  We went up that - easy and fun.

We had talked before about maybe climbing Arrow or the Trinity peaks, but weather was starting to threaten just a little. Honestly though, I didn't have much desire to climb either of these peaks. The views would have been about the same, but moreso, they appeared to be 3rd class talus hops and neither one of us could muster up the desire for that. So, we opted to go down and just hang out some more. The descent of Vestal was pretty difficult for a Colorado peak. I believe that we may have taken the wrong gully down, not the class 2+ ascent, I'm guessing. It was mostly a 3rd, sometimes 4th, class scramble down. We wanted to make our way to the Vestal-Trinity col instead of the Vestal-Arrow col to save some hiking, plus the descent from there didn't look quite as steep. It wasn't bad at all and soon enough we were hiking across a broad and well-compacted talus field. We stopped and lay down in some thick grass with a view of Wham Ridge above us to enjoy. After a short rest, we headed back to camp for a short break and then the hike out. Having been delayed in Charlotte, I wanted to get as far as we could today. We chatted for the steep hike down Vestal Creek and then put on iPods for the hike out of Elk Creek. I got way in front of Ken and waited for him down by the Animas River. I preferred to continue on but it was starting to get dark and when Ken stumbled down about 20 minutes later, he didn't have too much desire. I could have gone either way, but decided to let him make the call. We ended up camping right next to the "River of Lost Souls". Funny, I'd always thought what it would be like to camp on the banks of the "River of Lost Souls". It was pretty cool.

(top) Somewhere in the middle of the climb (my photo)
(l-r below) Summit shots

The moon was nearly full and was like a light bulb hanging in the sky. But, we were still able to pick out a few shooting stars as we fell asleep. The moon was just about to go out of view behind a ridge as Ken commented, "I wonder if there's a chance of rain with those clouds over there...". "Nah!", I said. The clouds were tiny and wispy. Around 2am though, I awoke as a raindrop hit me in the face. I opened my eyes and saw Ken about getting his bivy sack ready. So, I got up too and pulled all the gear together. I then spread out my $6 tarp over my sleeping bag and gear, anchored each end with a rock, and then crawled under. A few minutes later, the rain came. It rained off and on for a couple of hours, I'm guessing. I fell in and out of sleep between the amplified drops and occasional thunder and lightning flashes. I heard more coyote howls that night too. We awoke in the morning to dry weather thankfully, packed up, and doggedly trudged our way up the switchbacks to the high meadows near Molas Pass. Rain threatened again as we finally arrived at the car.

(above) The River of Lost Souls (my photo)

Summary of the climb:  Fairly easy and fun climb for folks w/ moderate climbing skills, well worth the long hike in.  Stay on the face as long as possible for better rock.  On the slab, there is very little protection down low, but the angle is easy enough for soloing.  As the angle steepens on the face, the protection becomes better.  Thin wires and cams are best.  Once above the slab, go left for 4th class, or stay on the ridge proper for a mix of 4th and 5th class.  Beware of rope drag here.  Unrope at the false summit.