ATLANTIC PEAK
(13,841 ft.)PACIFIC PEAK
(13,950 ft.)September 27, 2000
By Tim Briese
The pointed summit of Pacific Peak caught my attention while I stood atop Mt. Silverheels in 1998, and it called me like a siren to someday come and climb it. With my goal of climbing all the 14ers just completed, I now had time to pursue other climbing goals such as this.
On a sunny September morning I drove up Summit County Road 851 past the trailhead for Quandary Peak to the McCullough Gulch Trailhead. At 8:15 I hiked around the closure gate at the trailhead with my lab Allie and struck off up the old four wheel drive road that heads west up the valley. The trail soon left the road and continued upward through the woods. A brisk west wind was rushing through the trees, and I was uneasy about how strong the wind might be when I reached the heights above. Snow had fallen the week before, too, so I had to be careful to avoid slipping on patches of ice and snow along the trail. As I hiked along I admired spectacular views of Quandary’s steep and rugged north face towering above the valley to the south. That is a side of Quandary that one never sees while climbing its gentle east ridge. Quandary is a multi-faceted peak, one that literally has many faces.
When the trail neared timberline it went up past the enchanting McCullough Falls and climbed on up to a lake at 11,900 feet. The trail was good up to this point, for the falls and the lake are popular dayhike destinations, but beyond the lake the hike quickly turned into a bushwhack. I skirted around the north side of the lake, and after studying my topo map, headed to the northwest up into the north fork of upper McCullough Gulch. I was armed with nothing more that Garratt and Martin’s sketchy route description and my map, so careful routefinding was a necessity. As I bushwhacked up into the scenic valley above I noticed a mountain goat on a rough rocky slope to the north observing my progress. I passed another lake at about 12,700 feet as I neared the upper end of the valley. Just to the west lay a steep snow-covered slope that I would have to climb to advance to my goal. This slope was the crux of the entire route. I found a faint trail through the talus below the slope which I followed for a ways before turning and heading directly up the snow with the aid of my ice ax.
I reached the top of the steep slope of snow at about 13,000 feet and was treated to my first view of Pacific Peak a half mile to the northwest. To the southwest a gentle slope led upward to the rounded hump of Atlantic Peak, while the 13,380 foot saddle between them lay a few hundred yards above me to the west. I did not realize at the time that Atlantic was a Centennial 13er, or even that it was called Atlantic Peak, knowing it only as Point 13,841, but I decided that I might as well climb it anyway while enroute to my real goal of Pacific Peak.
I picked my way upward on the grassy tundra, avoiding snow where I could, and reached the summit of Atlantic in relatively short order. The view of Pacific was quite impressive from there. I stayed on the windy summit for only a few minutes before heading down Atlantic’s north ridge toward the saddle below. Snow had drifted along this ridge to a depth of a foot or two, so I found my gaiters quite useful here.
From the saddle I worked my way upward around a rough point and then began to ascend Pacific’s south ridge, pausing for a moment to admire the nice view of Quandary. I tried to step on blocks of talus in order to avoid the uncertainties of stepping onto patches of soft snow. A startling view of a high lake just below to the east appeared as I ascended the ridge. This lake, unofficially called Pacific Tarn, lies high in a glacial basin at 13,420 feet, and is reputed to be the highest lake in the United States. (See www.highestlake.com )
I stepped atop the summit of Pacific about noon, and was treated to grand views all around. I marveled at the steep north face of the peak as I peered over the edge. I found a sunny spot out of the wind on the southern side of the summit and spent a glorious half hour eating my lunch and gazing about. The dusting of snow on the surrounding mountains, especially to the south toward Atlantic, added a striking contrast which gave them a special beauty.
The descent back down the ridge was fast and easy, and when I reached its lower part I did not return to the saddle but struck off to the left along the crest of a rocky slope directly above Pacific Tarn. From there I descended to the top of the steep snow slope I had come up, and selected a slightly different route a hundred yards to the north of where I had come up, in order to descend more on rocks and scree and less on snow.
As I hiked back down the scenic valley in the warmth of the afternoon sun, I thought about how much fun it was to climb these 13ers. They offer new adventures, the challenge of bushwhacking on little-climbed routes, and solitude. Although I saw several casual hikers on the trail below the lower lake as I descended, I did not see a single soul, or even evidence of recent visitors, above the lake.
I returned to the trailhead on this pleasant autumn afternoon at 2:50. I estimated that I climbed about 3400 feet of elevation gain and covered about eight miles on this splendid six and a half hour outing.
