14ers! Grays and Torreys

 

The term "14er" is something that I only recently learned about, probably within the last year - moving to Colorado has been educational. There are over 50 peaks here that are higher than 14,000ft (4200m). California has 12, there's 2 in Washington and a handful in Alaska. It is mid-September, and the weather has been great here so time to bag my first, and found a way to make it a double.

Grays and Torreys peaks are just off the i-70 west of Denver, about a 2h drive from Fort Collins. I hit the road on Friday afternoon to snag a campsite close to the trailhead. It was fun to get the new Tacoma off tar and onto a relatively mild 4x4 sort of drive, heading up Stevens Gulch road. Found a spot to pop up the tent less than a mile from the trailhead.

Getting up to 11,000ft from the 5100 of FoCo/Denver for the evening would help acclimatize to the elevation a bit. The bourbon consumed around the campfire that evening probably counteracted it as much. A long-time friend joined and we met a couple other hikers who also had the peaks targeted for the following day. After a bit of time chatting, we called it a night and had a good sleep.

Split to Kelso. 3 x hikers up on the ridge already

By 6am the following morning, we were up at the trailhead. A camping stove on the truck tailgate with some coffee, bacon and eggs was an ideal breakfast to get fueled up, and hit the trail. We had done some armchair research into the area and route options, and had seen something that sounded a little more exciting than the more typical "walk along the nicely maintained trail: an alternative route via Kelso Ridge had some "Class 3 scrambling". As a non-climber, I underestimated class 3. About 3km in, we took the split and made our way up the ridge. It was quite a bit more exposed than the trail in the valley. We layered & gloved up, and could see some easy scrambles coming up, so also thought it would be a good time to don our helmets. While I was unclipping mine from my backpack, I fumbled. And the helmet tumbled gracefully (like a rock) down the ridge. There was no navigable route down the 800ft besides backtracking to the split, so we decided to just continue, me helmetless.

The first few scrambles were fun and straight forward to climb, although our pace did slow down as we progressed. At 4km in, the elevation had just passed 13,000 feet. Re-watching some of the videos sounds like the audio from some NSFW content, with all the huffing and puffing. Catch-our-breath breaks started becoming more frequent. Just after 5km in we crossed the 14,000 foot mark. This is where we came to the first challenging scramble. There was a large rock outcrop ahead of us which seemed to have 2 routes: 1 on the left with what we hoped would be a straightforward climb up once we got around the rock; and the other a more direct up and over route. 

We elected the first route, which turned out to be a poor choice. We had edged along a 1-2 inch ledge sticking out of the rockface (which was probably at 45 - 60 degree angle) that had a 1500 foot drop with nothing to stop with. After rounding the rock, all we had was a crumbly vertical face with loose gravel at the base, and 0 grip options for our level of experience. I had managed the ledge fine when we were heading out, but turning around and heading back in the other direction wakened some deep fear that must have been lurking. Mind function became minimum and muscle function even less so, with some complete freeze-ups. It took a few minutes to gather some composure and be able to inch along to eventually back to the path. Our sense of humor and good spirits were waivering. "F***'ng Class 3" was repeated by us a number of times between gasps for air. The summit seemed  a few steps away, but the ridge still has some gifts to offer us: a knife edge with massive drops down both sides, followed  with a pretty loose rocky section that had quite a bit of snow. The climber in the video is more competent and confident and just walked the ridge. The 2 of us wormed along the top of it on our stomachs, legs and arms straddling the smooth granite.

Torreys, looking back down Kelso Ridge

About 5h after starting, we finished the final little scramble up to the top of Torreys, at 14,267ft / 5km. Our spirits began to lift and we sat for a while, refueling and soaking in the views out to the east. Some cloud cover was pushing in and a storm started developing behind us, pushing towards the peaks from the west.  We geared up again, and started the short 1.5km traverse across the saddleback ridge towards Grays as some light flakes started blustering around us. As we reached the low point on the saddle, the storm arrived. We had seen a number of other hikers, but with the snow blizzard arriving, most were opting for the return-to-trailhead split instead of upwards. As a recent Colorado transplant, snow was still a novelty to me, and i enjoyed the flakes swirling around and settling on my puffer, and getting blown off again. It was quite surreal hiking in that for the first time. 

An hour later (with a few more breath-catchers), and we were at 14,278ft on top of Grays - the highest point on the continental divide. The altitude + exertion started to catch up with me, and a mild headache and nausea started taunting me. Matt, my buddy had come prepared and pulled out a can of oxygen. A few breaths of it and the symptoms eased. As did the weather, with the clouds starting to dissipate. Another quick bite, and then we began the descent. The weather continued to improve with occasional patches of sun and light breeze, without the heavy gusts. With not having the technicalities to deal with, pleasant weather, and still feeling a little raw from the climb, we took a slow walk back with stops to admire the views. About 9h after starting, we completed the 13km loop to arrive back at the car. Sitting in the seat felt like bliss for the body. 

It was a great day out. We were definitely humbled by Kelso Ridge and have mental notes (scars?) to not underestimate climbs in future. Am looking forward to the next ones. I wonder if the helmet is still there. Relive the hike with me