GRAYS PEAK
14,270 ft.
August 27, 1995
By Tim Briese
My interest in climbing mountains was enkindled on this climb. Before this, I enjoyed driving and camping in the mountains, and had even climbed a few of them, but I largely perceived mountain climbing as an activity that led to dizzying headaches and sore muscles. Earlier in the year I turned 40 years old, and I was beginning to have doubts about my physical capabilities when I woke up and felt stiff and tired in the mornings. (Many climbers I have since met probably wish they were still 40!) Then one day I read an article in my local newspaper about a man I knew from work who had completed climbing all of the fourteen thousand foot peaks in Colorado. Richard was in his mid fifties when he did this, and I was impressed. If he could climb mountains, perhaps I could too. Turning 40 gripped me with a newfound sense of urgency, too, for I realized that life passes by quickly, and the days when I could climb to lofty summits would not be unlimited.
As the weeks of summer went by I became intrigued with the idea of climbing a 14er, and purchased a copy of Gerry Roach’s fine 14er climbing guide and pored over its pages. Many of the climbs sounded far more difficult and dangerous than what I ever wanted to do, but several caught my interest. My seven year old daughter Emily wanted to go, too, so we chose a day and planned an outing. We wanted to climb an easy one, since we weren’t sure how we would do, and settled on Grays Peak.
We rose early on Sunday morning on the last weekend of August and left home at 5:30 a.m. and drove into the mountains. The sky was mostly clear but there were a few clouds drifting around the highest summits. We left I-70 at Bakerville and drove south up the Stevens Gulch Road four miles to the trailhead at 11,200 feet. We were far from alone at the trailhead, for there were perhaps 40 other vehicles there and numerous hikers preparing to embark. I knew that the Grays Peak Trail is a popular and busy one, especially on an August weekend, for it is easily accessible and is a fine route all the way to the summit. It has been designated as a National Recreation Trail, and is used by thousands of climbers every year. It goes up a beautiful valley and switchbacks up the gentle slopes of Grays, gaining some 3000 feet of elevation in a roundtrip distance of eight miles. The stately summit of Grays stands tall as the highest point on the Continental Divide in the United States. It was a lofty goal for us to attempt, and we were excited about the challenge.
It was surprisingly chilly at the trailhead when we stepped out of the truck, so we donned our coats and then headed up the trail at about 7:45. We could initially see the summit of Grays a few miles to the southwest but soon lost sight of it behind an intervening ridge. The wide trail gradually ascended a gentle slope up a valley above a creek a couple of hundred feet below. We soon reached timberline as we passed some scraggly pines growing at the upper limit of their survival range. Presently the trail turned to the right and took us more steeply uphill through an expanse of willowy bushes. We quickly became winded on this stretch and had to stop several times to rest. I wasn’t sure how young Emily would do, for she had never climbed a 14er before, but she had an enthusiastic heart as big as the mountains. The sun rose over an impressive jagged ridge to the east that we paused to admire as we caught our breath. We were warmed up now, so we removed our coats and put them into my pack.
It was interesting to observe the numerous other hikers on the trail. There were young and old; families, couples, and singles. There were young male hikers briskly striding along as if on a mission, and pairs of women strolling casually along intently engaged in conversation. There were hikers old enough to be my parents, and others young enough to be in school the next morning. There were none as young as Emily, though, except for one young chap whose father was carrying him. I felt proud of her, and she received numerous compliments and encouraging remarks from others along the way. There were many dogs running all about, too. We left our dog at home, because regulations stated that dogs were to be on a leash, which we thought would be a nuisance to deal with. The leash requirement was a joke, though, for we hardly saw a leashed animal all day.
The trail soon turned back to the left and flattened out for a mile or so as it gradually ascended the valley. We admired colorful wildflowers that profusely graced the tundra meadows along this stretch. As Grays loomed nearer we ascended through a rocky area and crossed a tiny stream whose sparkling clear waters gurgled through the rocks. Grays towered above us to the southwest and Torreys Peak (14,267 ft.) stood tall to the right, with a smooth connecting saddle between them about 700 feet below their summits. We began to ascend Grays’ northeast slopes on gracefully sweeping switchbacks that carried us toward the heights above. There were large fields of snow lying below the saddle to the west of us, but it didn’t appear that we would have to hike across any of it. We could see distant hikers who looked like tiny ants above us on the trail to Grays or going across the saddle to Torreys.
The sky was now completely overcast and the clouds were beginning to darken, but threatening weather was not yet imminent. The final thousand feet of ascent remained before us, and was the toughest part of the climb. I had to coax Emily along, stopping every 50 feet or so for rest. This was quite a mental and physical challenge for a seven year old, and she was pushed to her limit, but gamely pressed on. I began to feel a little nauseous and lightheaded, so I took some Rolaids as Richard had advised, which seemed to help. We stopped to put our ponchos on when a shower of sleet blew in around us. We gained a sense of urgency when the ominous sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. When we neared the top a nice older man coming down smiled and told us we had only a couple of hundred feet to go, which gave our spirits a needed boost. We finally stepped atop the summit about 12:30.
It was quite a thrill to reach the top. The views were spectacular, and made the grueling climb worthwhile. We gazed in awe at distant mountains, and at lakes and valleys far below. After gathering a couple of rocks for souvenirs and signing our names in the summit register we sat down to eat our lunch. We watched other hikers going across the saddle to Torreys, and briefly considered hiking over there ourselves, but decided that one 14er was enough for us today. There were perhaps 10 or 15 other climbers on the summit with us, and several marveled at Emily’s achievement of climbing this mountain. It reaffirmed my faith in human nature to meet so many kind and encouraging people on this climb.
The weather was slowly deteriorating, and we didn’t want to get caught in lightning, so we soon decided to head down. The descent was quite easy and considerably faster than our ascent had been. I held Emily’s hand in places where the footing was loose to help her avoid slipping or stumbling on rocks on the trail. About 800 feet below the summit we were treated to the sight of a mountain goat with two kids on a rocky ledge a short distance away. Down a little lower we paused for a moment to watch some people sliding down the long snow slope below the saddle on plastic toboggans, as they turned these vast slopes into a lofty playground. Later I stopped to examine a reddish-pink material on the surface of a bank of old snow along the trail. I remembered reading somewhere about this material, but couldn’t recall the explanation of its source.
The hike continued to be a social experience, as we encountered numerous other climbers on the way down. We estimated that about 200 hikers climbed Grays that day. We clipped on down the trail at a good pace, especially on the gentle stretch in the valley, and returned to the trailhead about 3:30. We turned to look back one last time at the grand mountain we had climbed, and reveled in our accomplishment.
Although we were very tired, we talked excitedly about our achievement as we drove home. Emily had climbed her first 14er, and I had proven to myself that I could still climb them. This opened the door for me to a wealth of exciting new adventures. This climb was a priceless experience that my daughter and I could always look back on and fondly recall.
