EMERALD PEAK
(13,904 ft.)IOWA PEAK
(13,831 ft.)June 21, 2002
By Tim Briese
I headed for the mountains early in the morning on the longest day of the year, with the first hint of dawn already appearing in the eastern sky as I pulled out of my driveway at 4:40 a.m. On previous hikes I had seen the pointed summit of Emerald Peak from Elkhead Pass and from the summit of Mt. Belford, and I felt drawn to go climb it. Its very name, too, suggested that it was a gem I must go see.
I chose to climb Emerald and its neighbor Iowa Peak using the expedient route past Cloyses Lake, which involves four wheeling three miles up the rough road from Rockdale to the trailhead. I had been this way before when I climbed Missouri Mountain in 1997. The crossing of Clear Creek at Rockdale can be precarious because of high water, but I wasn’t too concerned about it this time since rivers were running low in this drought year. I found the water deeper than I expected though, as the swift current came a little over the running boards on my 4-Runner as I churned through. The road beyond the crossing was rougher than I remembered, too. Time has a way of taking the rough edges off the memories of old roads, and off of other memories, too, for that matter.
There was only one other vehicle parked at the trailhead when I arrived at 8 a.m. A few minutes later I struck off up the trail with my lab Allie. Presently we came to beautiful Cloyses Lake, lying in a lush, green basin in a deep valley with an old cabin on a hill overlooking its waters. When I was here in 1997 the lake was privately owned, but it was now a public treasure, having recently been purchased by the Nature Conservancy. As I hiked around the east side of the lake I saw the trail that left the valley and ascended steeply uphill toward Missouri which I had taken before, but this time I continued up the valley on the Pear Lake Trail. It was a beautiful hike as I briskly clipped along on the easy trail through flowery meadows and dense woods toward a high ridge at the south end of the valley about two miles ahead. The air was quite hazy this morning from big forest fires burning in the southwest part of the state, cutting the visibility to ten or fifteen miles, and I even smelled a trace of smoke.
When I reached timberline the valley curved around to the left and the trail carried me upward through grassy tundra meadows into the upper reaches of the drainage. The trail became increasingly faint, and I had to look sharp to find it.
A little before 10:00 I reached a broad saddle at 12,500 feet on Emerald’s southwest ridge and paused for a break. Emerald’s impressive summit loomed a mile to the northeast, with Iowa Peak beyond to the left, and I studied the route I would take. Pear Lake lay about 400 feet below on the other side of the saddle, and from this lofty perspective it was clear that it was aptly named.
From the saddle I followed a broad, gentle ridge along the crest of the Continental Divide about a half mile toward Emerald. At about 13,000 feet this easy stroll came to an end when I reached the crux of the route, a steep 600 foot slope of loose rocks and scree. I picked the best route I could find up this slope with the most solid footing, and rapidly ascended with surprisingly little difficulty. It was nevertheless a relief to reach easier terrain at 13,600 feet, and from there it was an easy scamper on to the summit.
I stepped on top at 11:25 and sat down to rest and enjoy the grand panorama around me. I was deep in the heart of the Collegiate Peaks Wilderness, surrounded by towering peaks. The pointed summits of Huron and the Three Apostles lay across the valley to the west, while Yale, Columbia, and mighty Harvard stood tall beyond the Pine Creek basin to the southeast. The trio of Missouri, Oxford, and Belford lay to the northeast. Iowa Peak was a mere half mile to the north, beyond a gentle saddle 600 feet below. It was pleasantly calm in the hazy sunshine as I sat and rested. My thermometer registered a mild 53 degrees, and I didn’t even need to wear a coat. The haze reminded me of my climb of Snowmass a couple of years before, when smoke from forest fires in the Pacific Northwest cast a pall over our state. This time, though, the smoky haze and accompanying orange sunlight was caused by massive fires within our own borders.
I noted in the summit register that I was the first climber here in the past five days, and only the fifth one here this month, which is quite a contrast to the crowds who visit the 14ers. With my binoculars I could see several climbers standing atop the summit of Harvard three miles away.
After about twenty minutes I left the summit and headed down a talus slope to the north and soon reached the saddle below. From the broad saddle it was an easy ascent on a gentle slope covered with dry, brown grass up to the summit of Iowa. It only took about 45 minutes to hike from Emerald across to Iowa.
From the summit of Iowa I looked down into a rugged basin below to the west, with Cloyses Lake beyond in the valley yet further below. I could see three climbers standing on the summit of Missouri less than a mile to the northeast, and I briefly entertained the notion of hiking on over there myself while I was so close, but decided against it. The summit log showed that a few more climbers had come here recently than to Emerald, with about fifteen signing in so far in June. I suppose that some find this a tempting and rather easy side trip from Missouri. Some clouds were starting to build up to the south, and although they were not imminently threatening, I decided it would be best to begin my descent.
I began to head down Iowa’s rough-looking west ridge, a little uneasy about what difficulties I might encounter, but trusting Roach’s assessment that the difficulty would not exceed class two. This route was indeed rough and steep, but quite doable. I worked my way around several rock towers on loose footing and felt glad that I was going down rather than up on this terrain. Soon I reached a saddle at 13,100 feet and slid down a smooth scree slope into the basin to the north. From there it was an easy bushwhack down rocky drainages and across grassy slopes as I rapidly descended. I paused to admire a massive moraine of rock and dirt that had been pushed out onto the basin floor by a glacier long ago.
I hiked around some willowy bushes and then paused for a few minutes and sat on the edge of a gentle grassy meadow where the terrain dropped away steeply into the valley far below. I gazed at Cloyses Lake in the valley with the pointed summit of Huron Peak towering above. It was quite a grand alpine view to enjoy.
The descent down to the lake was fast and steep. I missed the main trail that goes down through the woods on this slope, but found segments of an older, more faint one that was good enough to get me down. I stopped at the lake for a few minutes to throw some sticks in the water for Allie to retrieve before mosquitoes encouraged me to move on. The sky was now cloudy and a peal of thunder rumbled somewhere far away to the south. I continued on down to the trailhead, where I arrived at 3 p.m.
This eight and a half mile loop hike was a marvelous tour through a spectacular array of mountain scenery. I went past a gem-like lake and up a scenic valley to a high saddle, along ridges over two fine summits, and returned through a lofty basin. This rewarding hike had as much to offer as any of the 14er climbs I have done in the Sawatch Range.
