The latest adventure blew the last one out of the water. Last weekend I had a dog companion who limited my riding distance and climbing technicality. I love Rocco, but I love hardcore adventure too, so he spent the weekend with Laura and her dogs. I’ve been wanting to explore the Wilsons, a tall clump of rocks that are part of the San Miguel mountains, a sub range of the San Juans, located in the Lizard Head Wilderness southwest of Telluride. There are two ranked 14ers, Wilson Peak and Mount Wilson, an unranked 14er, El Diente, and a handful of ranked 13ers including Gladstone (a Colorado centennial peak) and of course the reverent Lizard Head. Saturday afternoon, I couldn’t quite make up my mind how I wanted to get there. I knew I was just going to focus on Wilson Peak since it is the easiest of the mountains, and the final ascent is a Class 3 climb. For you non-mountain folk, that means it is beyond the realm of hiking-you must use your hands to grip, sturdy, and propel yourself up the mountain. However, you probably don’t need ropes and climbing equipment like you do Class 4 or 5 (class 1 is the easiest)
Most of the info I read about the ascent involved using a trailhead to the north that would have required a lot of driving. To me, cars take out a lot of the adventure and reward of a trip. I was more interested in a route that involved more human powered transport. I studied my maps meticulously for a few hours and then decided on a route. I packed the bike and hit the road. My plan was to drive 30 miles north to the ski resort. Drive up Hermosa Creek road towards Bolam Pass until the road became too rough. Here I would ditch the truck and take off on Raji (the bike). It’s all very intriguing when I think about this whole trip, how every mile I progressed took me further and further from people, and the paths became less and less touched, from a perfectly smooth 4 lane concrete road all the way down to an pristine piece of mountainside that likely no one had ever touched but me.
I would crest Bolam pass and locate the East Fork trail, which according to my map, was right off of the pass. While I could see the trail down in a lower valley, I couldn’t find the trail head for it, so I took a leap of faith and started bushriding down a steep grade through the woods in the direction I thought the trail was in. The grade leveled off into a nice wildlfower valley. I crossed a small stream (actually the headwaters of the Dolores River) and picked up the trail on the other side. This East Fork trail was awesome-wild, rugged, remote, difficult, but still ridable. I spooked a large bull Elk and he ran along side me for a bit before darting into the woods. I didn’t see a human until I hit the northern trail head close to Hwy 145. By the the time I hit here, it was getting dark, and I wasn’t too far from where I wanted to be, there were some good primitive camp sites already established, and I was hungry, so I set up camp for the night.
Daylight broke and I mounted my steed once more to continue the adventure. I crossed the highway and hopped on the Cross Mtn. trail. I rode up until it the junction with Groundhog trail, at which point bikes weren’t allowed, so I hid the bike in the woods, did my gear swap, and I was hiking! This trail steadily gained elevation up to a saddle a little above treeline, and below Lizard head peak. It was crazy to think just the day before, I was admiring this unique geologic formation from several miles away at Bolam Pass. It is much larger up close than from a distance!
From the saddle, you have to descend into Bilk Basin. During my descent, I noticed an unmarked trail across the drainage. It appeared that if I could cross the drainage and latch onto that trail, it would save me some distance and elevation loss. My sense of adventure was particularly high this trip, so I ditched the trail, hopped down a gully to the drainage, crossed over, and after some bushwhacking found that trail. So began a mindset that would yield incredible fun, but would get me in a little trouble later…
It was more of a game trail, a bit overgrown and not really manicured, but more my style anyways. My original thinking was that this primitive trail would intersect back with the main trail that heads west from the basin up to the Rock of Ages saddle I needed to reach to complete the ascent. In theory it might have, but in practice, it was easier and more efficient to stay the course and eventually I wasn’t on a trail at all but just going up the mountain navigating grasses, rocks, slabs, waterfalls, and brush. I finally reached an alpine lake whereupon I did pick the main trail back up, but wouldn’t you know it wasn’t well marked or traveled and before I knew it I found myself off trail scrambling up a large nasty scree field. This took me up aways, but obscured my view of the saddle that I was aiming for. The slope became steeper and looser, and I was actually tempted to go up some coilours to the right, but my instinct told me to stay left and aim for the saddle.
This was working fine until I came to a large snowfield that was too deep and steep to cross with my hiking gear, so I had to go up and around it. I was now on very steep and loose Class 4 scree. It’s actually the most scared I’ve been in any of my mountain ascents. I took my time and my movements were very deliberate. I aimed for lines that had big rocks I knew wouldn’t slide, but this wasn’t always an option. Things only got worse as the terrain intensified. At one point, a section of rock broke free and began sliding, with me in it. Luckily, it only slid about 10 feet before coming to a stop and I just had to dig my feet out of some rocks. While I wish I’d never got myself in that situation, I’m glad I did, so I know how to avoid it in the future!
Reaching that saddle was out of the question now, since I was already high above it, so I focused my efforts on traversing to the left in hopes of hitting the established traverse up to the peak. What a sigh of relief I let out when I finally found it! This traverse was just as steep, but not nearly as loose. I came to a false summit, and then the real fun began! From that point, you have to free climb down 30 feet or so and then free climb up 150 feet to the summit! No rope, no climbing partner, but as long as you take your time, no problem! I actually prefer a good climb to the top over a peak that you can hike straight up to.
The view was incredible. I have pictures, but they don’t even come close to the magic of this place. The lighting was magical this particular day, owing to rain clouds moving in that were about to give me concern on the way down, but also because of the shape of the outlying mountains and the huge variety of colors, everything from bright green grass, forest green forest, red, yellow, brown, and gray rocks, and some blue from a few alpine lakes in sight. It is my new favorite peak. I ate some jerky and trail mix while giving thanks for a safe summit and all my blessings, then began the journey back down.
I was able to take the “real” trail back down to the saddle this time, and from here was able to find a route much easier than the first one. I wasn’t really on the trail, which wasn’t really obvious at this elevation, but the terrain was easier. I finally did find the trail again at that alpine lake and used it for a brief bit when I decided it wasn’t to my liking and once again began blazing my own path towards another trail way down that I could see. This descent was bomber as I more or less jumped down the mountain navigating rocks and vegetation. I crossed a waterfall and was back on the game trail that brought me in, and from here it was all reverse.
The big difference was that a storm was rolling in, along with some lighting. I had dipped back into treeline, but only for a short while as my route require crossing that stupid saddle at the base of Lizard Head. I picked up the pace, running when it wasn’t too steep. The apex was reached and I definitely ran down all the way back to trees. From there, it was a few more miles of descending to my bike. The lighting died down, but the rain picked up. Even though I had a rain jacked, I still seemed to be getting wet, and I was losing body heat. I found my bike safe and sound, swapped gear, and rode back to camp.
When I got there, a nice gentleman offered me a beer. I considered this peace offering for a second, but what I really needed was some coffee, and asked if he had any of that instead. Turns out he and his fiance did, and they were happy to help me out. They were part of a group of four Durangotans out mountain biking that day, so we talked bikes, Durango, and Tiny Houses for a while I savored my hot beverage. My buzz was almost instant. I bid them ado and hit the road. I decided to take the highway back down to Hermosa Creek road and ride to Bolam Pass this way. It would add some distance, but I wasn’t ready to take my chances on the East Fork trail with all the rain that had just come through. Once off the highway, the first 5 of 7 miles were fast! That coffee really got my heart rate up. So much so, I was hot and losing sweat. Every creek crossing I came to I had to stop and refill water.
The last 2 miles were slow and tough. The fatigue of the days efforts began to really set in. I finally crested, cooled off, and began the descent back towards the truck. It creeping up towards 8pm at this point, so the temps were dropping. Coupled with all the sweat in my shirt and shorts and not having to pedal anymore, I got cold once again. I could’ve stopped to layer up, but I knew I was on the homestretch at this point so I toughed it out for another 15 minutes or so. I was happy to see little grey parked where I left her, not only because no one had messed with her, but also because I was freezing and freaking exhausted. So ended the best adventure I’ve had this year.
