EL DIENTE
14,159 ft.
September 9, 2000
By Tim Briese
I rose at 4 a.m. and left Ridgway under a star-filled sky. I was in great spirits this morning, excited about the prospect of good weather, after climbing Mt. Wilson in very poor weather the day before. What a difference a day can make! I drove past Telluride in the dark, over Lizard Head Pass, and headed west on the Dunton Road. There were several hunters parked along this road at strategic spots overlooking broad meadows, hoping for the sight of trophy animals when daylight arrived.
At 6 a.m. I arrived at the Kilpacker trailhead, and found no one around except for a party of hunters in a nearby camp. It was just barely light enough to see without a flashlight when I hit the trail at 6:15 in chilly 32 degree air. The last stars were just disappearing from the sky. The trail initially headed west across a grassy meadow, where I detoured around a few mud puddles that resulted from rain the day before. I could see the San Miguel Mountains looming off to the north in the clear sky and I saw what I thought was El Diente. I am better oriented mentally when I can see my ultimate goal from the trailhead.
After a half mile or so the trail swung around to the north and carried me along through alternating meadows and beautiful stands of aspen and pine. Some of the aspens were truly gigantic, up to two and a half feet in diameter. I was feeling a little tired from my climb the day before, and my right knee continued to hurt, but sheer excitement buoyed me on. The trail was quite easy, rolling gently up and down with only a few hundred feet of elevation gain over the first three or four miles.
At 7:30 I stopped for a break at a place where the trail crosses Kilpacker Creek. From here I had my first good view of El Diente standing gracefully up at the head of the valley. It was a beautiful hike as I continued on up the valley across expansive meadows and through occasional stands of timber, with El Diente towering grandly ahead. My legs became wet and cold as the lush, frosty vegetation along the trail brushed against them, but I hardly minded at all. From a long distance away I first saw the beautiful waterfall at timberline directly below El Diente, and I paused to admire the impressive view. It was one of the finest approach views I could remember on any of the 14ers.
When I neared timberline I stopped to admire the two waterfalls in Kilpacker Creek, the lower one a 20 foot high torrent thundering down in the woods, and the upper one, the one I had seen from a distance, a 100 foot high stream that delicately cascaded over a cliff above. I quickly concluded that a hike just to see these waterfalls would be a very worthy objective.
I followed the trail as it took me up to the left around the upper waterfall toward the valley above. After an initial steep climb up through some bushes the trail became surprisingly easy on solid talus all the way into upper Kilpacker basin. The trail was not a well-worn one, but was easy enough to follow by observing the cairns. Two energetic hikers overtook me and I stopped to visit with them a little bit. El Diente was to be the 54th 14er for one of the guys, and the other had previously climbed them all. Surprisingly, they lived just a few miles from my home. They went on ahead, but I soon passed them up on a break and pressed on ahead myself.
The trail continued for a mile or so into upper Kilpacker basin, past some rugged cliff bands on El Diente’s south face. At about 12,800 feet the trail left the basin and headed steeply upward to the left. Although there was an initial stretch of unpleasant scrambling up through loose scree, the route stayed on solid talus for the most part and was generally well-cairned as it zigzagged upward through cliffy areas. Just before the trail reached the crest of El Diente’s east ridge it joined the trail that came up from Navajo Basin on the other side of the ridge and swung west toward the summit.
There was some fun class 3 scrambling in places on this stretch, and I soon gained the notch in the ridge about 100 yards east of the summit. From the notch I carefully climbed along the crest of the rocky ridge to the top. This was an exciting scramble, airy and exposed, requiring several class 3 moves, and was a route best done only in good weather. I noticed a more conservative cairned route below on the north side of the ridge that would have been a wiser choice in conditions less favorable.
I reached the summit at 11 a.m., and stayed to enjoy this grand place for 45 minutes. The other two climbers reached the top a few minutes after I did but soon left after photos and congratulations for the one climber’s achievement of #54. It was 31 degrees with a slight breeze from the southwest, but it felt much warmer than that in the bright sunshine.
I marveled at the fantastic views from this westernmost of Colorado’s 14ers. I could see all the San Juan 14ers, from Mt. Sneffels to the Eolus group. There was Grand Mesa off to the north, and Shiprock, New Mexico way off to the south. There was Sleeping Ute Mountain down by the Four Corners, and a distant range in Arizona beyond that. Off to the west in Utah I could see the La Sal Mountains, the Blue Mountains, and the Bear’s Ears. Away off to the southwest, just faintly, I could glimpse the familiar rounded shape of Navajo Mountain, which stands sentinel above Lake Powell on the Arizona-Utah border. At 165 miles away, this was probably the most distant landmark I had ever seen from the summit of any mountain. But the most impressive sight of all was the rugged scenery surrounding me in the San Miguel range--pointed Wilson Peak, proud Gladstone Peak, and especially the incredibly rugged ridge from El Diente across to Mt. Wilson. Patches of snow from the previous afternoon’s storm added to the beauty of the sight. The traverse across that ridge looked like a great challenge that did not interest me.
This was an incredible place, on a magnificent day, and it was exhilarating to be there. I knew at that moment that this fabulous peak would reign as one of my favorites.
After a few more moments of reflection on the grandeur around me I left the summit. Another group was just arriving that had come up from Navajo Basin. I very carefully made my way back down the crest of the ridge, studying each move with an eye toward returning with my daughter sometime. Once off the ridge, I slowly descended back to the valley below, nursing my sore knee. At 1:30 I was back down to 12,800 feet, with a much easier grade ahead of me the rest of the way.
I stopped at the waterfalls to take several photographs in the soft sunlight, and I paused to listen to their watery music. This was a very enchanting place, and I resolved that I must return here someday, noting some fine campsites in the woods nearby. I hiked on down the valley on this lovely fall afternoon, admiring the aspens and meadows under the bright blue sky. I reached the trailhead at 4:10, after covering some 12 miles that day, and stopped to gaze at the view of El Diente a few miles off to the north.
It was a pretty drive back to Ridgway in the late afternoon sun, over Lizard Head Pass, past Trout Lake and Telluride, and on over the Dallas Divide. Just before sunset I drove up onto a mesa north of Ridgway for a grand view of Mt. Sneffels and the valley below.
That evening as I sat on the outdoor patio of a local restaurant eating dinner, with the full moon gleaming in the sky above the San Juans, I reflected on how I had seen some of the grandest scenery in Colorado, on this picture perfect day.
--"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and stars their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." -- John Muir
