The Sawatch Cowpoke

“Screw it, seriously just screw it.” I looked over at Jared from the other side of the bench seats in his black, 1994 Chevy Silverado, “I’m not holding back this year.” I shook my head and looked out at the twilight growing in the Southern California hills around us, “I’m not holding anything back this time.” Jared nodded quietly, pursed his lips, and then didn’t saying anything. I could tell he was thinking something in particular, but I couldn’t quite tell what. It had been a year. A year of insurmountable lows and mind-blowing highs. Funny enough, I started the last one in about the same place that we were at right then. Sitting in the passenger side of his truck, driving through whatever open hill country that was close to Yorba Linda in the heart of the Orange County countryside. Except this year was different. I was finally living somewhere that I wanted to be, surrounded by people that all pretty much wanted to do what I wanted to do. I was finally achieving some of the dr...

  I slipped on verglass in the low light off of my headlamp, “dammit!” I blurted out of my mouth. I could hear Matt giggle quietly in front of me. It was late September and both of us had decided to make a dawn patrol mission up the “Great Dihedral” (5.7 III) route on the central cracks of the northeast face of Hallett Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park. I just didn’t realize it would get that cold overnight, even this early in the fall around here. We continued farther up the scree of the slope off of Lake Haiyaha. In the low late-summer light I could make out the dark waters of the surface of the lake below us. The wind had not yet kicked up and the blackness of the lake looked almost like glass. We picked this route for several reasons. Not only did Matt have to work that afternoon and guide a few hikes around Moraine Park, but he also had a rendezvous for a backpacking trip on the western slope of the park that afternoon that I was a little jealous of. Why not add somethi...

My boot slipped twice and I looked down from the ledge I was currently edging across. It was midmorning, cold, and I could barely hear what Matt was saying slightly above me through the wind, my helmet, and all the layers I was wearing. We were teetering across the knife’s edge of the route now, along a violent ridge that led up to the summit of Mt. Ypsilon. It felt like we had been on a stairclimber of rocks forever. The day began like most of the alpine missions that Matt and I had knocked out through the end of the summer season: wake up early, choke down as much food/water as you could at that hour in the morning, and be on our “merry” way down the trail. Today, although, was a little different. Following the successful climbs of the summer/fall season, Matt and I were becoming increasingly confident in our abilities out in the backcountry. This isn’t to imply that we were becoming cocky or anything in the least (certainly not- *sarcastic laugh*), but we at least had a rough id...

I had been to Glacier Gorge several times before, but I had never seen it from this view. The way that the backside of Long’s Peak echoed the massive and open space below was breathtaking. Just another reminder of the absolute majesty that one can find within the remote confines of Rocky Mountain National Park if you’re willing to work hard enough. Hours before we had just started our ascent of one of the Gorge’s central features, The Arrowhead Arete. Rising in stark comparison to Long’s Peak and the Keyboard of the Winds before it, and with the Spearhead (another central feature of the gorge) to it’s side, the Arrowhead Arete rises on the ridge that runs between the entrance to Glacier Gorge itself and McHenrys Peak. As with most peaks along the Continental Divide, the summit and the ridges leading up to them are quite steep and violent, but if one has enough daylight, good weather, and adequate wayfinding skills, the summit of McHenrys can be reached from the top of the Arrowh...