Category Archives: San Juans

Lizard Head and Gladstone

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Good friends are indispensable in this life: both necessity and luxury. I knew Ryan was extremely busy this year with both wedding plans and a trip to Peru, so I’d assumed a prior talk about him repeating Lizard Head to lead me up was not in the cards. But when I omitted Lizard Head in my list of summer plans at the engagement party for him and Steph, he prodded: “Not interested in the gecko, anymore?” or something along those lines. Read more…

Another Labor Day Down South: Silverton West 13ers

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At the beginning of September, Kyle Knutson and I headed south for a four day peakbagging romp in the San Juans. Our plan – hit as many 13ers as we could, focusing on the mini-range to the west of Silverton and south of Ophir. We had spent a little bit of time in this range previously, both having climbed Vermillion and Golden Horn, but beyond that would be new terrain. This area of the San Juans is notorious for bad rock and loose scrambling. Throw in a handful of lesser traveled routes and we knew we were in for an interesting one. Read more…

A Weekend in the Cimarrons

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To cap off the month of July Steve and I motored down to the Cimarrons for a weekend of car camping and peakbagging poppycock. What can I say about the Cimarrons? While the Gores are rugged and quaint, and the Weminuche mythical and remote, there’s something that sets this area apart from the rest of the state. I’m not sure if it’s the lore present in the air, or the high rolling green tundra studded with craggy, Dr. Seussian towers, or simply the colors and unique rock common to the region. Regardless, ever since my first visit to the place, I had long awaited a return trip. Keep reading…

Winter’s End – Part 2, Cirque and Gilpin

After driving in from Denver and climbing Mt Emma the prior day, I awoke just before 4 and headed up the shelf road to Yankee Boy Basin at 4:15. Right after making the turn onto the YBB road, I passed two hikers who told me they had turned their Toyota Tundra around about a half mile beyond, at a point where running water had rutted out the road and made it more a stream than a road. Keep reading…