MT. ANTERO
14,269 ft.
October 15, 1997
By Tim Briese
I wanted to climb one more new 14er before snow blanketed the mountains, and Antero seemed like a good choice for a late season climb. I left home in the dark at 5:30 a.m. with my lab Sadie and drove west toward a grand full moon that was sinking low in the western sky. I took the Chalk Creek road south of Buena Vista into the mountains and then drove up the relatively good four wheel drive Baldwin Gulch road through stands of leafless aspens. After about three miles I reached a junction in a scenic valley at 10,850 feet where I parked beside Baldwin Creek.
I noted that it was a chilly 26 degrees in this shaded spot as I donned my snowboots and prepared my gear for the climb. I could see the high summit of Antero towering above me to the east as I hit the trail at about 8:45. I crossed the broad creek nearby and headed up an old jeep road into the valley that lay to the southeast. There were small patches of snow here and there, and some of them had been compressed into ice on the road by jeep tires, which I carefully avoided so as to not slip and fall, especially since I was hiking alone. After hiking about a mile I reached timberline, and paused to study a series of switchbacks in the road as it climbed up the southwest flank of the mountain above. I continued hiking on up the snowcovered road for a switchback or two, but soon succumbed to the temptation to leave the road and head directly up a steep gully. The west-facing gully was largely free of snow, and the rocks and scree in its bottom were frozen just enough for good footing. The climb was quite strenuous, but much shorter than following the road, which I crossed over three or four times as I rapidly gained elevation. At about 12,800 feet the jeep road contoured off to the southeast while I turned to the northeast and hiked up a steep talus slope that was covered with up to a foot of snow in some places. I found a rough trail that I followed up to the crest of Antero’s south ridge where I rejoined the old jeep road as it came to an end at 13,700 feet. That road definitely detracts from the wilderness and aesthetic appeal of Antero in my opinion, but at least vehicles cannot be driven all the way to the summit as they can on Mt. Bross.
I headed to the north along the crest of Antero’s class two south ridge and then made the final 500 foot climb up a rocky slope to the summit, where I arrived about 11:45. The air was calm and crystal clear, with perfect visibility for 100 miles or more, the finest conditions I had seen on any mountain this year. I found a comfortable place to sit down and proceeded to carefully study the entire horizon with my binoculars. Incredibly, I could count at least 37 other 14ers. I could see the vast Sawatch Range that I stood in the middle of, from Mt. Massive southward, and the Elk Range off to the northwest. The rock formations of the Castles were visible off to the west near Crested Butte, with the rim of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison beyond. Far to the southwest lay the San Juans, with Uncompahgre Peak guarding the range well, as it stood tall in a majestic white mantle of snow. It’s grandeur was striking, even at 80 miles away. In the foreground Tabeguache and Shavano towered across the valley to the south. Beyond were the Sand Dunes, lying on the windward side of the Sangre de Cristos, below the rugged summits of the Crestones that jutted into the sky. Far into the distance the southern extension of the Sangres trailed off into New Mexico, visible over 150 miles away. To the east lay the familiar rounded hump of Pikes Peak and other summits along the Front Range. Far below on one side of Antero lay the Mt. Princeton Hot Springs, and on the other, a small red dot which was my truck parked down by Baldwin Creek. I could glimpse the tiny figures of other climbers on the summit of Mt. Princeton eight miles to the north. All this alpine grandeur surrounding me was graced by a moderate dusting of snow.
I felt as if I were sitting on top of the world, as I sat there gazing at the magnificence spread out around me. I was filled with awe and reverence as I looked around at half of our beautiful state. This was the ultimate reward of mountain climbing, what makes the grueling climb worthwhile, to be atop a summit enjoying such a majestic experience. I was grateful for all this wonderful beauty, and for the opportunity and the ability to come here. Such an experience can be life-changing, and one of life’s special moments. It can provide sustenance for the mind, body, and soul.
It was pleasantly warm as I sat and rested in the bright sunshine. I was surprised that my thermometer registered only 27 degrees, for it felt much warmer. Sadie had curled up in a ball and was taking a nap. I didn’t see anyone else on the mountain all day.
After an exhilarating hour on the summit I began the descent. I carefully negotiated my way down across patches of snow on the steep scree here and there, but otherwise descended rapidly back down to my truck in about two hours. Before leaving the trailhead I paused for a few minutes to listen to the stream nearby and to look up at the high summits around me. Antero towered so far above, that it seemed that a tremendous effort would be required to hike up there, more so than it really took. The classic autumn smell of damp leaves wafted pleasantly through the mountain air, an aroma which I always enjoy on such outings.
What a beautiful fall day it was! It was still clear and calm, with golden sunshine and a deep blue sky, simply a great day to be alive. It is wonderful to be outdoors anywhere on such spectacular days, but I had been fortunate enough to enjoy it from the top of the world!
