CALIFORNIA PEAK
13,849 ft.
September 24, 2001
By Tim Briese
I waited for a beautiful September day to climb California Peak in the southern Sangre de Cristos, for I hoped to see the fall colors in the Huerfano River valley at the height of their glory. I had looked forward to this hike for quite some time.
I left home under a starry sky at 4:40 a.m. and drove south to Walsenburg and then northwest through the barren countryside to Gardner. The sun was just beginning to cast its golden rays on the landscape as I drove along this road. From Gardner I followed the long road up into the Huerfano River Valley. Extensive stands of beautiful yellow aspens lined the way, with a grand view of Blanca Peak standing up at the head of the valley.
I reached the Lily Lake trailhead and hit the trail with my two labs at 8:10 under the deep blue autumn sky. I noticed crystals of frost on the grass along the way. The trail initially followed the same route as the Mt. Lindsey trail, but after a mile I took a fork to the right and continued on up the valley toward Lily Lake. The trail gradually climbed higher and took me all the way up into a basin where I was merely a half mile from Blanca’s magnificent north face. The view of it from here was incredible. At this point the trail turned to the right and switchbacked up to the west to beautiful Lily Lake in a bowl above timberline at 12,340 feet. Blanca and Ellingwood were spectacular from here. It was about 10 a.m., and I sat on the shore of the lake and rested while I threw a few sticks into the water for my dogs to retrieve.
From the lake I angled upward to the northwest on a rough talus slope and then turned to the right and headed directly up the steep slope. It was a rugged 1200 foot climb on the steep talus from the lake to the ridge above, with loose rocks creating a minor hazard. I had chosen to climb this south ridge route to California because it was reported to be more scenic than the easier north ridge route. While going up this rough slope, however, I decided that I didn’t want to return this way and would instead continue on over the summit and descend by way of the north ridge route.
Once atop the ridge I scampered about 100 yards west to the summit of Point 13,577, where I was treated to a grand view. To the east across the valley were Mt. Lindsey and the Iron Nipple, and to the south, barely a mile away, were Blanca and Ellingwood, with rugged Little Bear just beyond to the right. To the north lay the ridge I would follow to California’s summit, a little over a mile away. After reveling in the magnificent views and resting for a few minutes in the bright sunshine, I headed down the ridge toward a saddle below to the north. I attempted to contour around the west side of Point 13,420 in order to avoid extra climbing to its summit, but headed up there after all when I encountered a steep, loose talus slope.
As I was descending down to the next saddle, between Point 13,420 and California, I noticed some shiny debris on California’s steep south slope about a third of a mile away. There was a small bright shiny piece on the rough slope at about 13,200 feet, with a larger metal piece about a hundred feet lower. After studying it closely with my binoculars, I concluded that it was likely the wreckage of a small aircraft from a crash some years ago. Some unfortunate pilot was probably trying to fly across the Sangre de Cristos through Mosca Pass a few miles to the north and became disoriented in clouds or darkness. It would have been possible, but quite difficult, to hike over to the site from the ridge that I was on, but I did not care to expend the time or energy to do so.
I rapidly ascended the last 500 feet of elevation gain and stepped atop California’s summit at 12:55. It was still clear and sunny, with a cool breeze blowing from the northwest. My tired dogs plopped down to rest, after three hours of scrambling on steep, loose footing. The view was nearly as grand as it had been from Point 13,577, with the added attraction now of a view of the Great Sand Dunes below to the north with the Crestones beyond. It was a real treat to study the nearby 14ers in the Blanca group that I had climbed in previous years.
I was surprised to note in the climbing register on the summit that fewer than 50 people had climbed this mountain all year. That is just a tiny fraction of the traffic that the 14ers receive. About ten people had climbed it in September, the most recent climb being about ten days before my climb. It is unfortunate that more people don’t experience the grandeur of this magnificent climb, I thought. I have become sold on climbing these high 13ers, as an excellent encore after completing the 14ers. They offer solitude, climbing and routefinding challenges, and views that often surpass those found on the 14ers. The view from California was finer than that from any 14er in the Blanca group, in my mind. One can admire a 14er in a unique way from atop a nearby 13er.
At 1:20 I left the summit and began the long, easy hike down the grassy north ridge. It was an exhilarating feeling hiking along the crest of the Sangre de Cristos, with the San Luis Valley and the Sand Dunes below to the left and the aspen-filled Huerfano River valley below to the right. It was a splendid two and a half miles, entirely above timberline, from the summit to the saddle where I would drop back down to the valley below. I went over three or four points along the ridge, regaining 50 or 100 feet of elevation each time, but I didn’t mind at all. I saw several herds of elk casually grazing in the high meadows from 12 to 13 thousand feet, and when I approached within a hundred yards or so they bolted off. I put my lab Jorie on a leash a couple of times so she wouldn’t run off chasing them. One herd left the comfort of the meadow when I approached and descended onto a steep, rocky slope below to the east, apparently sensing greater safety on that rough terrain.
Eventually I reached the saddle at 11,900 feet where I left the ridge and began the descent back down into the valley. I had bushwhacked nearly four miles along the crest of the ridge from Point 13,577 to the saddle. It was immensely fun, and it has to rank as one of the most scenic hikes I have ever done in the Sangre de Cristos.
At the saddle, which is sometimes referred to as Zapata Pass, I found the old Zapata Trail and began following it as it made many long switchbacks on the 1700 foot descent into the valley. I passed through an area where all the trees had been uprooted and pushed over by wind or an avalanche many years before. The trail appeared to be seldom used and was rather faint in places, especially through a meadow about half way down, but the routefinding abilities of my labs easily overcame that difficulty. There were several stands of beautiful yellow aspens on the lower portions of the trail, with their leaves fluttering in the afternoon breeze.
I was tired and spent, and my feet were sore when I finally reached the old road in the valley below at 3:30. The hike was not over yet, though, for I had to walk a mile and a quarter up the rough old road back to the upper trailhead where I had parked, regaining 500 feet of elevation in doing so. Along the road I met two guys sitting by their truck enjoying a beer, celebrating their successful climb of Mt. Lindsey. They were the first people I had seen all day. At 4 p.m. I returned to the trailhead, as afternoon shadows began to fill the valley.
It had been a magnificent climb. The summit of California itself was not particularly remarkable, but the hike to get there and back and the views along the way made the hike special. Ascending the south ridge and descending the north ridge made for a grand loop that afforded me many marvelous views of the whole area. This tour was one of my favorite hikes of the year. The ten miles I covered on this seldom visited route were more grueling than a typical trail hike would be, but it was worth every step of it. The cares of the world I had felt in the morning simply melted away during this wonderful day in the majesty of the mountains.
