Paradise.
- Peaks:
- “West Skiers Point” – Pt 12,620′ (Unranked)
- Skiers Point – 12,976′ (Unranked)
- Climbers Point – 13,022′ (Unranked)
- Mt. Solitude – 13,085′
- Route: Solitude ridge run via Pitkin Creek
- Climbers: Solo
- Distance: 10.78 miles
- Vertical Gain: 5,833 feet
- Date: 10/5/25
- Strava Track: https://www.strava.com/activities/16045942620
Sometimes climbing these mountains can be a massive logistical undertaking. But other times the trips just write themselves.
That was the case for me on a random weekend in the autumn of 2025. I was feeling pretty burned out with the relentless responsibilities of life. As such, mountains have been hard to come by this year. A trip to the hills was long overdue.
I was originally planning on working on my centennial list via the apostles group. But an early dusting of snow made me reconsider. As I did, I settled on the Mt. Solitude group. I figured what better (and more cliche) way to find some alone time than to hoof up its namesake peak in the heart of the Gores?
And so, I found myself at the Pitkin Lake Trailhead on a fine fall morning, ready to decompress and reset in the loneliness of the wilderness.
Tough to find a better map in all of Colorado than this one.
Equally tough to find a better sign.
I’d been itching to get back up into Pitkin Creek ever since Steve and I did a classic Gore Epic on the Prime Time Traverse group in the summer of 2024. Aside from the steep first half mile, I mentally marked just how runnable the rest of the trail was all the way into the high basin. My memory served me well as I enjoyed a relaxing, slow jog up into the heart of the Gore over a year later.
The light of dawn creeping into the valley. I’ll never admit to being a leaf peeper, but they certainly were nice to see on this day.
Case in point.
The day was shaping up to be perfect. Cool temps, clear skies with mixed clouds, and the remnants of a wet / semi snowy few days preceding my outing. Despite being a Sunday morning in prime leaf-season, I only passed one other party on the way in. As usual, the Gores hold their secrets to all but the few willing to go find them.
My plan was to ascend somewhere up the west slopes of the Mt. Solitude massif. This sweeping face of grass, talus, and cliffs appeared to present many options. I’d confirmed the feasibility of such an ascent with LordHelmut the night before. I felt good about bushwhacking up whatever route made the most sense.
To that effect, I left the main trail at about 10,500′, crossed the small creek, hacked my way through some steep willows, and soon found myself surrounded by the upper reaches of the “Mt. Solitude Super Massif”. I ultimately settled on hugging the far south edge of the face. While not the most direct choice, this route up seemed straightforward enough. I also liked that it gave me the chance to run the whole ridge.
Speaking of, this is a great opportunity to shout out gore galore’s excellent and informative old TR about this whole area. As usual, he expertly chronicled the history and nuances of all these peaks. To quote his fitting summary,
“Normally what is considered as a simple massif with a major peak, I have elevated the immensity of this particular massif into the realm of a super massif consisting of four major peaks and about a dozen ridges and five cirques which in itself becomes a mountain climber’s and a gem hunter’s paradise of a climbing and hunting ground.”
My first objective was to gain the ridge. Next to tag the unnamed, unranked, and completely obscure West Skiers Point (12,620). Gore Galore describes this, as well as many other surrounding knobs, as “hidden gems in the Gore Range.” He really couldn’t be more right. This ridge has a lot of random little points like this, each with its own unique flavor.
My ascent gulley. There were a lot of ways to gain the ridge, but being solo, I pretty much just went straight up it for almost 2,000 feet. By Gore standards, this went quite well.
After reaching the ridge I made the short but very sweet jaunt over to West Skiers Point on easy but fun scrambling. I wasn’t sure what the true high point was, so it was a fun excuse to visit three separate maybe-high-points on the way. But I didn’t care about anything ‘official.’ The fun of these gems was just in enjoying them for the pure sport of it, lists and ‘objectives’ be damned. That’s a great feeling in the hills.
Views of the short ridge run over to “West Skiers Point.”
Holy Cross Wilderness and Vail in fine fall form across the way.
A peek down the ascent valley of Pitkin Creek.
Views of most of the Mt. Solitude Super Massive Ridge to come.
After bopping around on West Skiers Point for longer than I intended, I finally back-tracked to head up Skiers Point proper. From the saddle, it was easy rock hopping and A+ views the whole way. The air was crisp and breezy and the views million dollar.
Looking across the way towards the Partners.
Mt. Solitude itself. Winter is coming.
One more of The Partners, Pitkin Lake, and around.
The ridgeline itself was unremarkable in terms of the climbing, but sensational just for the experience. A long, relaxing Gore Ridge Run is a real treat these days.
Skiers Point quickly passed by, as did Climbers Point. Eventually I arrived at the summit of Mt. Solitude itself. And what an aptly named peak it is. Stan Midgley has the first known summit of this peak. According to a firsthand account given to gore galore, upon arriving at the summit Mr. Midgley remarked,
“Perhaps it could have been named better, but late that afternoon in the brilliant blue and gold of mid-September as I stood there alone among the ragged merlons and minarets in the very heart of the Gore Range, facing the tangled trailless route back to Boulder Lake, all other names sounded hollow.”
I must say though, I wholeheartedly disagree with part of his assessment. I can think of no more fitting name for such a place than ‘Mount Solitude.’ Sitting way up there all by my lonesome, virtually every named peak of the Gore was on display. The crystal clear skies allowed for endless summit and route peeping. Those same blues and golds Mr. Midgely saw were on display again decades later. What a place.
Summit cairn and views beyond.
Looking southeast towards the Silverthorne and Grand Traverse groups.
North towards Peak L and friends.
My summit bliss was eventually cut short by the increasing wind. I thoroughly dislike a windy day, so I made the decision to forego the remainder of the ridge towards Useable Pass. I suppose I left Vista Point (unranked) orphaned by doing this, but maybe that’s a good thing. Any excuse to get back in here again will be a good day someday.
The steep slopes beneath Mt. Solitude were not fun to go down. Loose talus and steep grass had me plopped on my rear end more than a few times. Poles would have been nice. Or skis and snow for that matter.
After finally skiing this slope in spring 2025, Benners confidently reported, “Can confirm. Skiing down that damn face is easier than hiking down.”
But whatever annoyances the slope brought, it did afford me my favorite moment of the day. Somewhere around 11,500′ I stopped to dump half the talus on the mountain out of my shoes. I felt like Treebeard who use to, “spend a whole week just breathing.”
Resting in the calm, I took the chance to just be still and relax. Gore views abounded on a perfect fall day. If wilderness can restore the soul, a place like this is where it happens.
Tough to find a better day than this.
Filled up with some true Rocky Mountain High, I eventually finished the bushwhack to the main trail (much less enjoyable this direction, for whatever reason; willows will always suck.) I then slow jogged the way out, joining the more numerous leaftards enjoying the lower valley now.
Can’t really blame them.
One more for the road (which was traffic-jammed with the aforementioned leaftards on the way home, BTW).
Thanks for reading if you did. Happy climbing!