Subject: TR: Pettingell Pk, CO, USA Date: 30 Jun 1999 18:52:29 PDT From: (Mark R Vanderbrook) Organization: concentric.net Newsgroups: rec.backcountry Pettingell Peak 6/26/99 Mark R. Vanderbrook
At last: the season,s first real climb. Both my late-May hike up Sniktau and my early-June ascent of Squaretop had been pleasant enough, but both lacked something -- vertical distance, perhaps, or character -- that this satisfying outing handily supplied.
I had originally planned to go climb 13,708-foot Grizzly Mountain in the southern Sawatch Range, but a desire to cut the number of miles to be driven and a friend,s recommendation shifted my attention to the peaks just north of I-70 and east of the Eisenhower tunnel. After looking at the maps, and reading Steve Fry,s somewhat confusing trip report, I chose Pettingell.
The number in my party also underwent some revision. Candace, my coworker and companion on Sniktau and Squaretop, had originally expressed an interest in joining me, but her enthusiasm waned as the weekend approached. Another coworker, Pat, indicated he might meet me at the trailhead. As it turned out, I would climb the peak solo. But I would be anything but alone.
At about 6:10, having seen no sign of Candace, I loaded up my gear and started for the trailhead. Just a couple of miles east of the tunnel on I-70, I took exit 218 and pulled into the expansive parking lot, arriving at about 7:15. I would soon learn why the parking lot was so expansive.
By 7:30, I had changed my boots, set my altimeter to the 10,250-foot elevation at the trailhead, and started up the trail. After dutifully signing in, I followed the trail as it climbed gently eastward through the trees. After a short distance, the trail split, the right fork heading east for Watrous Gulch. I took the left fork, and began the 1700-foot climb up Herman Gulch to Herman Lake.
The trail was well maintained for the first mile or two, and showed evidence of recent work. The heavy, early summer runoff thundered down the gulch as the trail ascended through the trees on its east side. At points roughly 30 and 50 minutes up the trail, campers had taken advantage of the pretty camping spots where the gulch broadened to include small, inclined meadows.
As the trail climbed higher, it became significantly muddier, and in places, snow-covered. But the expanding views -- both ahead and behind -- rewarded my efforts.
Shortly before 9:30 I reached the lake, and found its surface still mostly frozen. Its north and west sides were ringed with steep, mostly snow-covered terrain, and above, craggy pinnacles. The weather was perfect. Having deposited me at the lake, the trail had completed its mission, and was done; a quick look around revealed no terribly obvious route up the peak. Discouragement, and the possibility of an early return home (and an opportunity to perhaps get out on the new motorcycle) tugged at me. But I wasn,t quite ready to give up. I would at least see how high I could climb.
After a more thorough survey of the area, the most reasonable-looking route seemed to climb east of the lake into the surrounding cirque, do an ascending traverse to the west across several interesting-looking snowfields, and then gain a buttress south of the peak. From this point, it appeared possible to climb grassy slopes to the ridge connecting the encircling summits. I started an ascending traverse to the north, above the east side of the lake, dodging patches of willows.
When I encountered a small but swift-moving creek spilling from the basin above, rather than risk the wet rocks, I climbed a short distance to where it emerged from under the snow. Then, climbing a bit higher, I got on the snowfield and began contouring around the cirque to the west, gaining little elevation as I went. At first, the snow was only gently inclined; as I proceeded, it became steeper. Here and there, a couple small patches of talus poked through the snow cover. The sun shone down brilliantly, only to be reflected off the snow; it was quite warm.
As I carefully traversed the snowfield, I spotted one -- no, two -- no, three climbers ascending the steep snow that separated me from the frozen lake. More and more of them climbed into view, until there were a good 12 or 15 of them, their leader now on a course climbing to intercept mine where the snowfield met the buttress. We exchanged greetings as we approached, and she confirmed that they were all CMC members.
Off the snow now and plodding up the steep slope above the buttress, the CMCers and I soon gained the small, shallow basin beneath Pettingell. While they took a rest break, I continued climbing up the grassy slopes toward the ridge.
As I gained the ridge, I marveled at the view westward, a tableau of dozens of snowy peaks. Holy Cross was immediately identifiable. Grays, Torreys, Evans and Bierstadt had been visible to the south for some time, as well.
Also as I gained the ridge, I came to the conclusion I was headed for the wrong peak. I had noticed that the CMCers were bearing right of my route, and seemed to be headed for the summit that lay northeast along the ridge; I had been focused on the peak to the southwest. A quick look at the map revealed they were right, and I wrong: the visually dominant peak from the lake was the unnamed, 13,418-foot summit I had angled for; Pettingell was the less obvious but higher summit for which they were aiming. After a moment,s pause to take in the scenery, I turned right and started up the ridge.
After a short distance, the ridge steepened; when the last hundred feet presented a steep snowfield, I hiked out onto the talus of the west face, which I ascended, reaching the empty summit just ahead of the CMCers, at 12:15. A few benign clouds dotted an otherwise azure sky; the gentle breeze was just cool enough to remind me that I was within 500 feet of the magic 14,000-foot line.
Now an hour behind schedule, and with an important obligation to attend at 5:30, I cut my stay atop the peak to the bare minimum. I signed the register, took a couple of photos, had a snack, and prepared for the descent. By 12:30, I was on my way down.
I hadn,t gotten very far before a gentleman thrust his hand into mine and introduced himself as the author of a new guidebook on "high-pointing" Colorado,s counties. Dave Covill was a man on a mission, proselytizing and looking for converts. When I mentioned that a co-worker (Pat) had some thinly repressed high-pointing tendencies, he rummaged furiously for something on which to write his name. Finding nothing, he told me to have Pat look him up. He was in the phone book.
I excused myself as quickly as was polite, and continued my descent, having learned I had just summited a county high point. (Since Pettingell lies on the common boundary of Clear Creek and Grand counties, I can,t be sure which county I high-pointed.)
Because of the possibility of encountering difficult terrain and despite the opportunities for decent glissades, I retraced my steps pretty faithfully on the descent. The snow was now considerable slushier, and at one point while crossing a steep snowfield, I slipped, and confirmed that an ice ax self-belay really does work.
Back at the lake, I took a short break. There were now quite a few hikers enjoying the alpine environs, and the CMCers were glissading the steep snow above the north end of the lake. I found a nice flat rock apart from the crowds, and rested my feet for a couple of minutes. Bearing my schedule in mind, I was soon back on the muddy trail, and making a good pace.
At 3:40, without any real rest since the brief pause at the lake, I was back at the trailhead. Still concerned about the impact any traffic delays would have on my ability to make my 5:30 commitment, I set off immediately, and arrived home around 4:45.
This peak might become an entirely different experience later in the year, but I found it a very enjoyable outing. It was a nice mix of trail, trees, snow, talus, blue skies, and route finding. And at a little more than 3300 vertical feet, it afforded a workout in the same league with many of the (easier) fourteeners. Overall, I,d rate it an excellent conditioning climb -- just what I was looking for, with El Diente fast coming up in my plans.