ARROW PEAK
(13,803 ft.)VESTAL PEAK
(18,864 ft.)July 26, 2003
By Tim Briese
Arrow and Vestal are two of Colorado’s most dramatic peaks. I had often seen their pointed peaks jutting into the sky from afar, and eagerly looked forward to climbing them.
After climbing Vermillion on Thursday Brian and I drove to Durango to catch the train for our backpack to Vestal Basin the next day. Jason and Connie, who were joining us on this climb, drove in from Colorado Springs later that evening. We all met at Carver’s for a tasty breakfast the next morning before heading to the train station. The train did not leave until 9:45, which seemed like a rather late start for a climbing expedition, but this was the only run which made a stop at our drop-off point at Elk Park. After a pleasant ride through the scenic Animas River Canyon we reached Elk Park at 1 p.m.
We donned our packs and headed up the fine Elk Creek Trail into the Weminuche Wilderness in the warmth of the afternoon. Friendly flies were a considerable nuisance and forced us to keep our stops to a minimum. After two and a half miles we reached a beaver pond where we were afforded a dramatic view of Arrow and Vestal to the south. At this point the easiest part of the backpack was behind us, for a steep and rugged ascent up the Vestal Creek drainage lay ahead of us. After a short break we left the Elk Creek Trail and hiked around the east end of the pond and picked up a faint unmarked trail that we followed southeast for a hundred yards to Elk Creek, which we crossed without difficulty. I was familiar with the initial part of this route since I had gone part of the way up it a couple of years before with my daughter Emily. A crude trail carried us steeply upwards through the woods, across numerous downed logs and up rocky slopes. It was a grueling grind, especially carrying full packs, and I tried to set a slow, methodical pace that was sustainable. An overcast sky kept the temperature pleasant. The route stayed well above the east side of Vestal Creek most of the way but later took us alongside the stream as we climbed higher. Eventually the grade moderated and we reached the edge of a meadow that lay at about 11,400 feet where we planned to camp for the night. It took us four hours and twenty minutes to hike from Elk Park up to the meadow, which was somewhat faster than I expected. We covered about five miles and climbed 2800 feet of elevation gain to get there.
Just as we reached the edge of the meadow rain began to fall, and then hail, accompanied by numerous strikes of lightning. It would have been nice to get camp set up before the storm hit, but this was not to be. After donning our raingear Jason and I crossed the creek and scouted about in the wet bushes and grass for a campsite while Brian and Connie waited under the shelter of some trees. Jason and I, too, were forced to seek cover when the storm intensified and a furious onslaught of hail began to pour out of the sky. The hail continued more or less for an hour before finally relenting. We went back and got Brian and Connie and brought them to a nice grassy spot, now covered with white, that we found at the edge of some trees. It was not much fun setting up camp in the frigid wetness. My opinion of backpacking took a turn for the worse as we placed our tents on the bed of melting ice. My hands were so cold and numb that I had to ask Brian for help unbuckling straps on my gear. After a hastily eaten dinner prepared on the chilly ground I went for a short stroll up the valley to scout the route for our climb the next morning. I was chilled all night because my wet legs, even though inside my sleeping bag, extended beyond the end of my three-quarter length Therma-Rest and lay upon the layer of ice beneath my tent.
The next morning we rose at dawn to embark upon our climb. I stayed in my tent as long as possible to keep warm. At 6:05 we left camp and headed up the valley along the south side of the creek through wet bushes and grass. After 200 yards we turned to the right and ascended a steep slope covered with talus and grass, on a route I had found the night before. We picked up a faint trail and followed it up through a cliff band above the talus. After climbing about 600 feet we reached a basin that lay directly below the base of Vestal, which was a most impressive sight jutting into the sky in the early morning sunlight. Arrow towered above us to the southwest, and we observed the huge ramp up its northeastern slopes that harbored our route.
After a short break we hiked a few hundred yards across easy slopes toward Arrow and then climbed grassy ledges to get up onto the lower part of the ramp. We ascended the fifty foot wide ramp by climbing up grassy steps and smooth slabs along its outer edge, tending to avoid looser material along its inner edge. Connie, whose ankle was hurting from a recent surgery, slowed a little, while Jason pushed on ahead. I stopped frequently to gaze across at the grand view of Vestal and its incredible north-facing Wham Ridge. From this perspective the Wham Ridge looked like a gigantic ski jump. When the ramp that we were climbing split we took the right fork and presently came to a rib which we initially ascended along its left side and then along its crest. I found this Class 3 rock scramble to be a great deal of fun. The route was fairly well cairned, but some routefinding was necessary. Roach’s description of the route is invaluable. The pitch steepened when we neared the summit and the rock was rather loose. We did not have helmets along but we probably should have had them.
At 8:45 we stepped atop the spectacular summit. It was an exhilarating place to be, for the views were magnificent all around in the early morning sunlight. Vestal, whose summit was a mere 600 yards away, was an incredible sight. Far below lay the Vestal Creek drainage, and off to the south were Jagged, the Chicago Basin 14ers, and Pigeon and Turret. After enjoying this magnificent perch for about forty minutes we left the top and began our descent. Just below the summit we met three other climbers coming up. They, unlike us, were appropriately equipped with climbing helmets. We rapidly scooted back down the rib and down the ramp. Once again, Connie fell behind a ways because of her ankle. I thought it was remarkable that she was able to handle such a climb in her condition.
Clouds soon began to build up but did not appear to pose a threat yet so we decided to continue on to Vestal. Jason waited for Connie while Brian and I dropped back down into the basin and then hiked south toward the Arrow/Vestal saddle. Just below the saddle was a steep scree slope about 300 feet high, which Roach fittingly dubs the “Dues Collector”, and it certainly extracted a toll from us. We arrived at the 12,860 foot saddle a few minutes after eleven. Meanwhile Connie returned alone to camp and Jason hurriedly caught up with us. From the saddle we followed a trail that made an ascending traverse across Vestal’s steep south slopes, then took us over a rib and delivered us into a rough gully that ran northward up toward the summit. Brian and Jason proceeded to climb directly up the gully, but it appeared too dangerous to suit me, since it was very steep and filled with loose rock, so I scampered up broken ledges above the gully to its left.
Ominous dark clouds were rapidly building up and inspired us with a keen sense of urgency. We met one lone climber coming down the gully when we neared its upper end. At the top of the gully we headed left and did a Class 3 scramble up through a steep field of broken rock on a lightly cairned route. The day’s first rumble of thunder reverberated through the air, and memories of the horror I’d felt in a lightning storm on Mt. Meeker the week before flashed through my mind. Dark clouds now surrounded us, and we practically ran the last 150 feet along a gentle ridge to the summit, where we arrived at 12:20.
This, too, was a spectacular perch, but we had precious little time to enjoy the views. I had hoped to look down the incredible Wham Ridge to the north but saw that a downclimb was necessary to get in a position to do so, which there was not time for. Lightning and rain were rapidly intensifying in nearby storms. After only ten minutes on top we left and began a hasty retreat. None of us cared to be caught in a thunderstorm on such a rugged peak. In our haste going down along the gully we nearly missed the trail that carried us back to the west toward the saddle, but fortunately Jason noticed it. From the saddle we quickly slid down the scree slope below and rapidly bushwhacked across the basin between Arrow and Vestal, as rain could be seen falling in the valley ahead of us.
We returned to camp at two o’clock, and were treated to a brief break in the weather that afforded us the chance to wash up and relax for a little while. By 3 o’clock it was raining hard, though, and the rain continued for over three hours, with a multitude of nearby lightning strikes that rocked the valley and interrupted my nap while I lay in my tent. I estimated that we hiked about four and a half miles and climbed 4000 feet of elevation gain that day.
We considered rising early the next morning and climbing one or more of the Trinity Peaks that lay along the ridge to the east of Vestal, but in the end decided that we really didn’t have time to do so in order to catch the train in the afternoon. Besides, we had already accomplished our primary objective of climbing Arrow and Vestal. Instead, Brian, Jason, and I went on a leisurely hike to explore the upper reaches of the magnificent Vestal Creek drainage. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and we were rewarded with fine views of the Trinity Peaks, as well as Vestal and Arrow. We hiked up to a pristine meadow above timberline at 12,000 feet and took a relaxing break there to soak up the grandeur around us. Jason exclaimed that this was one of his “favorite places in the whole world!”, and I thought his exuberance was well-founded. I shot over a roll of film on our outing that morning.
We hiked back down the valley and returned to camp at 10. We laid out our wet gear to dry in the morning sun for a little while before packing up to leave. Connie, not wanting to slow anyone down, left ahead of the rest of us. A half hour later Jason urged Brian and I to take off without him, assuring us that he would be along in a few minutes. I felt a little uneasy about splitting up our party on such a rough route, but we did so anyway. After a while Brian and I became alarmed when Jason didn’t catch up with us. We caught up with Connie at the beaver pond by the main Elk Creek Trail, and there was still no sign of Jason. A few minutes later he finally appeared. He had gotten off-route and slipped and injured his leg on a rock, but fortunately the injury was minor.
After a short break we headed down the fine Elk Creek Trail. Just like the day before, clouds exploded into the sunny sky, and within thirty minutes we were drenched by rain and hail. We met numerous other hikers coming up the trail. There was a group of a dozen or so ill-prepared Boy Scouts backpacking in the rain with little or no rain gear. They seemed destined for a chilly night.
We tramped back to Elk Park a few minutes after 2 p.m. Two hikers were waiting there who had been dropped off by the last train, whose packs had inadvertently gotten dropped off several miles away at Needleton! Obviously upset, they were waiting for the train personnel to bring them their packs later in the afternoon. We unsuccessfully tried to flag down two trains before finally being picked up by our scheduled one at 4. It felt good to be on the train back to Durango. We had only been in the wilderness two nights but it seemed longer than that, partly because of the rainy weather we had experienced. The weather cooperated just well enough for us to accomplish our objectives.
Jason and Connie headed back to Colorado Springs when we reached Durango, while Brian and I treated ourselves to a delicious steak dinner at the Ore House. The next morning I rose early and headed east on Highway 160 for home, concluding another fine climbing adventure in the San Juans.
