CLINTON PEAK
(13,857 ft.)TRAVER PEAK
(13,852 ft.)August 13, 2002
By Tim Briese
I left home at 5:30 a.m. with my lab Allie and headed into the mountains. It was a very chilly morning and a few low clouds drifted through the sky following the passage of an autumn-like cold front the day before. I drove past the Montgomery Reservoir below Hoosier Pass a little before 8 a.m. and observed that the water level in the reservoir was incredibly low in this year of extreme drought.
I parked at the west end of the reservoir and struck off up the rough four wheel drive road that heads west up the valley along the upper reaches of the South Platte River, which is merely a creek here. I presently passed the old Magnolia Mine, and the road went under an interesting covered sluice structure that appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Beyond the mine the road quickly deteriorated into a very rough four wheel drive route with gnarly rock steps and other occasional obstacles. It was a good thing I had not planned on four-wheeling up this route, for it was rougher than I expected and more than I cared to subject my truck to, if it could have handled it at all!
When I began the hike I felt rushed and in a hurry to complete it, in order to get back to pressing matters at home, but as the day went by a new perspective unfolded in my mind, as I realized that these matters could take of themselves for a while. The wilderness has a calming and soothing effect that can put things in their proper perspective.
A pointed peak soon came into view far ahead at the end of the valley, and I surmised that it was perhaps Clinton, but later discovered that it was a false summit that hid the real peak from view. I am not fond of the name of Clinton Peak, which I suppose reveals my political inclinations, but I reminded myself that the mountains are impartial, and their vast timelessness transcends the affairs of men.
I was a little surprised to see puddles of water standing along the road in several places, which seemed a bit anomalous in this very dry year. As I reached timberline some nice views of Traver Peak and the north face of Mt. Democrat appeared to the southwest. A chilly wind swirled around me under the deep blue sky, on this day that reminded me of late September. After hiking about 2.7 miles I reached a fork in the road and took the steep, rocky road up to the right toward Wheeler Lake. In just under half a mile I reached this beautiful watery gem which lies in a basin high in the valley at 12,170 feet. I paused here for a few minutes to rest on its grassy shore and to throw a few sticks in the water for Allie to retrieve.
From the lake I bushwhacked southwest up grassy slopes through ledges and soon reached another broad, gently sloping area above. I gradually ascended uphill to the west into a wide basin, eyeing the southeast slopes of Clinton as I approached to pick my line of ascent. I rather hastily assumed that the high summit I saw above to the northwest was Clinton, having not studied my topo map closely enough to realize that the real summit was beyond on a ridge a quarter of a mile further. At about 12,900 feet I left the comfort of the basin and did an ascending traverse back to the northeast up the slope on steep but reasonable terrain, and climbed to the ridge above. When I reached the false summit I was surprised to see Clinton yet some distance away, and hiked along the crest of the fun ridge toward it. When I looked below I noted that I could have stayed in the basin all the way to about 13,300 feet before ascending directly to the summit, but it appeared that that route may have entailed the ascent of unpleasantly loose scree.
At 11:45 I stepped atop the windy summit and sat down to rest. It was a rather chilly 42 degrees, so I found a sunny spot out of the wind. I noticed in the register that only about 35 people had preceded me here this year, which explained why I saw no other climbers and virtually no trail all day.
I looked about with fascination for quite some time at the grand views surrounding me. To the northeast I could see the steep south slopes of Quandary and the Centennial 13ers Fletcher, Atlantic, and Pacific. Directly below to the west was Fremont Pass on Highway 91 and the sprawling scar of the Climax Mine. Beyond in the distance I could see Holy Cross and the Elk Range, punctuated by the sharp summit of Capitol Peak at the range’s northern end. To the south beyond Traver Peak was a nice view of Democrat’s rough north face. After what seemed like just a few minutes I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see that three quarters of an hour had gone by. Time passes quickly while one is engaged in the exhilaration of being on a summit!
I presently left the top and headed down the easy ridge to the southwest and followed it for a half mile across to the summit of McNamee Peak (13,780'). After a brief pause there to examine some old mining equipment and to study the views I turned to the southeast and followed a ridge down to a saddle and then continued upward toward Traver. Near the summit I found it necessary to skirt around some rough rocky steps.
On the summit of Traver there were remnants of an old radio tower, and also a small metal plaque in the shape of a cross with the words “Traver Peak” inscribed on it, along with the notation that it was presented by one Harold Traver. I was curious to learn the story behind this interesting item. The views from the summit offered further new perspectives, as I studied Mt. Arkansas (13,795') across the valley to the southwest, and the rugged north ridge of Mt. Democrat. My binoculars were put to good use today as I gazed about with them several times.
After twenty minutes I summoned Allie, who was taking a nap nearby, and proceeded to descend Traver’s south ridge. I could have descended directly down the southeast slopes of the mountain to the valley below, but I thought it looked like more fun to follow the south ridge down to the Traver/Democrat saddle before dropping into the valley. After a half mile I reached the 13,140 foot saddle, and after one final look at the grand view off to the west, I descended a short scree slope to the east and entered a broad grassy valley below. It was a pleasant hike down this gentle drainage. This was one of those idyllic places high in the mountains that is such a treat to visit, with soft, grassy meadows and occasional pools of water. I took my time here to make sure I thoroughly enjoyed this beautiful place.
I descended gradually down this high valley toward the northeast for about two thirds of a mile before I reached steeper grassy slopes which I descended to join the main valley that came in from the south below Democrat. Here I came upon two men with a young boy and a dog who were returning from a hike to see an old mine cabin a short distance up the main valley. I wondered how they got up here, for it seemed like a long hike for such a young boy to come all the way from Montgomery Reservoir on foot, but a short distance later I came upon their white jeep at the end of the old four wheel drive road that they had driven up. I was not surprised that the license plates were from Texas.
Soon I returned to the junction where I had taken the rough road up to Wheeler Lake in the morning, completing a grand loop that had taken me to the heights above. I headed on down the old road at a brisk pace, turning around frequently to look back at the view of the mountains behind me, glistening in the afternoon light. Eventually the white jeep from Texas overtook me, traveling barely faster than I was walking. I met two more hikers coming up the road who were bound for Wheeler Lake, and they inquired of me how far it was. Allie was becoming very tired now, and was trailing behind me.
Just before 5 p.m. I returned to the parking area, completing the ten and a half mile hike in about nine hours. I felt that my pace had been rather leisurely, and my frame of mind was now slow-paced and relaxed, too, as I sat by my truck and listened to the wind blow through the trees for a few minutes. This outing had reset my inner clock from the frenzied pace of the world to the more casual pace of the wilderness. Nature reminds us that we need not be in such a hurry.
-- “A man must go to the mountains for health, but also to get a true insight into things.” -- author unknown
