MT. HARVARD
14,420 ft.
July 13, 1996
By Tim Briese
I headed into the mountains with my friends Hal and Tony at 5 a.m. on an overcast Saturday morning. It had rained and thundered during the night, creating some doubt about climbing conditions we would encounter, but we just hoped for the best. Tony spotted a couple of elk grazing in a meadow along the highway in the early morning light along the way. We passed through Buena Vista and drove on to the North Cottonwood Creek trailhead in the mountains west of town. There were several vehicles parked in the woods at the trailhead and other hikers were preparing to embark up the trail.
At 7:30 we struck off up the trail and crossed a fine bridge over the roaring creek and hiked up the valley into the Collegiate Peaks Wilderness Area. The woods were damp from rain the night before and there were a few puddles along the trail. We stopped occasionally to admire glimmering pools of water in North Cottonwood Creek and enchanting glens filled with colorful wildflowers. After a mile and a half we reached an open area where winter avalanches had thundered hundreds of feet down the steep slope above, totally clearing the area of trees.
Shortly after this we crossed back to the north side of the creek on another fine bridge and presently came to a trail junction where we headed uphill to the right toward Horn Fork Basin. Unfortunately Hal’s asthma was bothering him, and made it difficult for him to breathe. He was concerned about holding Tony and I back, and encouraged us to go on ahead, but we insisted that we were in no hurry and would stay together. As we hiked along Tony used his keen sense of observation to point out game trails and animal tracks, and made several interesting observations about plants and rocks along the way. It is always nice to have a naturalist along on a hike. Hal and Tony kept up a lively humorous banter throughout the day, and were very entertaining and enjoyable climbing companions.
We reached timberline at about 11,600 feet and hiked up into beautiful Horn Fork Basin. Harvard stood visible before us at the head of the valley and the steep slopes of Mt. Columbia rose above us to the east. We continued up the valley on the fine trail through patches of willows and past flowery meadows and an occasional bank of snow. In the upper reaches of the valley we left the main trail at 12,400 feet and took a short side trip to have a look at Bear Lake, a watery gem whose sparkling clear waters lie in a glacial bowl beside a rock-strewn meadow. The cloudy sky had now given way to expanses of blue, and we rested on a big rock on the shore of the lake and gazed at the scenery around us. There was a nice view of Mt. Yale four miles to the south.
After this brief respite we returned to the main trail and climbed a steep slope which took us into an upper basin at 13,000 feet just below Harvard’s south slope. Our goal was quite close now, but we had many grueling uphill steps yet to go. A shower of sleet blew in around us but quickly ended a couple of minutes later. It was a very strenuous climb up that last 1400 feet, and we stopped every 50 feet or so to catch our breath. Tony was feeling the effect of the altitude and became quite ill. He paused to lay down several times and briefly napped for a few minutes. He encouraged Hal and I to go on, but I was uneasy about leaving an ill companion behind. I reluctantly decided to push on ahead a short distance, but to remain within sight of him.
My lungs were heaving vigorously as I climbed up those last few hundred feet and approached the summit. The terrain became surprisingly rough just below the top but it was a lot of fun scrambling around the big boulders that were piled there. I stepped atop the summit about 1 p.m. and was alone there for a few minutes soaking up the majesty around me before my companions arrived. It felt exhilarating to be in this spectacular place, seemingly on top of the world. A few minutes later Hal joined me, and then Tony. The weather had improved almost miraculously, contrary to the typical pattern of worsening conditions in the afternoon, and it was now sunny and calm on our lofty perch. Visibility was sharp and clear, too, and I could pick out numerous other 14ers spanning the horizon. It was an awesome feeling looking down thousands of feet all around. The three of us sat and ate lunch in the pleasant sunshine accompanied by a few marmot guests, and afterward Tony stretched out to take a nap.
After a short time several other climbers reached the summit and joined us. The summit consisted of a pile of big boulders, and was considerably less roomy than I expected, but it capably accommodated ten or so of us, although its capacity would have been strained by many more. Hal entertained everyone with his humor and drew laughter when he announced, “I understand there’s a helicopter that lands up here at 4:00 to take everyone back to their homes.” Tony quipped back, “No, that’s on that mountain over there!”
We lounged on the summit for about an hour and a half and finally left about 2:30. I noticed some beautiful yellow flowers on a grassy slope just below the summit that had escaped my attention on the grueling climb up, and I was surprised that they grew at such a high elevation. The descent was much easier, of course, than the ascent had been, but the loose footing on the steepest slopes was hard on our tired legs. The grades became easier again as we hiked back down past Bear Lake into Horn Fork Basin.
There was no longer a single cloud in the deep blue sky, and the lush greenery in the basin was gorgeous in the golden sunlight. I could hardly take my eyes off of the surrounding rocky slopes and grand ridges, glistening in the finest of lighting conditions that Nature has to offer. Before we reached timberline I paused one last time to turn around and gaze back at Mt. Harvard at the head of the valley. It was hard to believe we had been way up there.
We were getting very tired as we tramped back down the trail through the woods. The trail mysteriously seemed to stretch much longer than we remembered it in the morning. It became harder and harder to pick up our feet, as small roots and rocks now became obstacles to stumble over. I suppose it didn’t help much when I pointed out that each of us had taken roughly 25,000 steps on this 12 mile hike, but nevertheless, humor continued to buoy us along all the way back to the trailhead. At 6:30 we dragged ourselves back to the car, too tired to appreciate the scope of what we had done.
We stopped in Buena Vista for a sandwich at Subway and then headed for home. We saw a bear eating out of a garbage can along the highway outside of town, the first bear I could remember seeing in the “wild” in Colorado.
Hal took a small rock home from Harvard’s summit. He said he was going to put it on his desk at work, and when things got tough there he could look at the rock and say, “I can handle this!” I thought that was an excellent idea.
