MOUNT OF THE HOLY CROSS
14,005 ft.
July 10, 1998
By Tim Briese
I had long looked forward to climbing Holy Cross, because I had heard many stories about the beauty and mystique of this famous mountain. Several friends had expressed an interest in joining me on this climb, but I chose to do it with my enthusiastic ten year old daughter, Emily. The hike would be long and rather arduous, so we decided to spread it over a couple of days by doing a backpack. Indeed, we had been awaiting such an opportunity to do our first backpack together. This would be Emily’s first backpack, and my first in many years. I welcomed this opportunity to hone my backpacking skills for future 14er climbs that would require it.
A massive snowpack was still melting in the high country, so I called the National Forest Service office in Minturn to ask about trail conditions and received a favorable report. After receiving this encouraging news we packed up our gear and headed into the mountains. It was cloudy and showery as we drove out on I-70 to Vail, but our spirits were not dampened by the prospect of hiking in the rain. As we drove up the rough and narrow Tigiwon Road we came upon a young man whose car had slid off the road, and we stopped to give him a tow. A few minutes later we reached the trailhead, and hit the trail at 4 p.m. with our lab Allie. We immediately entered the beautiful Holy Cross Wilderness as we began the hike up the Halfmoon Trail. It was lush and green, with flowers and tall grass all around. We paused for frequent rests while carrying our packs uphill, as we gained 1300 feet of elevation on the way to scenic Halfmoon Pass, which is located just at timberline.
As we rested at the pass we gazed off into the beautiful valley of Cross Creek to the west with several high peaks beyond, and up at the flank of Notch Mountain above us to the south. Then we began the descent down to East Cross Creek, and soon rounded a bend in the trail and were greeted by a spectacular view of the rugged north face of Holy Cross. Over the past century countless pilgrims have hiked into the wilderness to see the fabled thousand foot high cross that graces the east face of the mountain when snow conditions are favorable. Unfortunately, the namesake Cross Couloir that holds the snowy cross is not visible from anywhere along the route we were on, since it faces east toward Notch Mountain. (See the trip report on Notch Mountain). Nevertheless, the Mount of the Holy Cross itself is a beautiful sight. We hiked on down toward the valley below, and descended a series of switchbacks down through a cliff band. We admired the view of the Bowl of Tears basin below Holy Cross, which was graced by a gemlike lake and a waterfall flowing over a cliff.
It started to rain as we neared the bottom of the valley, and we hastily crossed East Cross Creek on some precariously wet rocks that were protruding out of the raging torrent. We selected a campsite just upstream from the trail near the river and quickly set up our tent as it rained. This turned out to be a mistake because some of our gear got wet as we unpacked it, and it took a long time to dry out. We would have been better off to wait under a tree until the rain ended before setting up camp.
After the tent was up we hastily scrambled inside with our wet dog and waited for the rain to stop. When it ended we filtered some water from the creek and cooked our dinner. We were cold and wet, and swarms of vicious mosquitoes were annoying us, so we beat a hasty retreat into the tent, and soon fell asleep listening to the music of the stream and a waterfall nearby.
We rose early in the morning and were on the trail just after 5:30 a.m. We wanted to get to the summit and back down before thunderstorms moved in. The trail switchbacked up through the trees and eventually broke through treeline out onto the tundra just below Holy Cross’ north ridge. We hiked up through boulders and rocks as we gained the shoulder of the north ridge, and admired the increasingly spectacular views as we climbed higher. The north face of Holy Cross loomed magnificently ahead, with a few misty white clouds drifting around its summit. The Bowl of Tears lake lay below to the east with Notch Mountain beyond across the valley. The jagged Gore Range jutted into the sky along the northeastern horizon, and the long glacial valley of Cross Creek lay below us to the northwest, with several snowy peaks, including 13,670 foot Mt. Jackson, on the other side.
We reached the crest of Holy Cross’ north ridge at about 13,400 feet and followed it toward the summit, staying clear of a dangerous cornice of snow that hung out over a cliff to the left. The clouds were building up, and now engulfed the upper few hundred feet of the mountain, but we were still just below the cloud ceiling. Soon we reached the end of the gentle north ridge and began the steep final ascent up Holy Cross’ west side, carefully picking our way over boulders as we clambered up the last 500 feet in the fog to the summit.
We arrived on top at 9:15, the first party to summit that day. It was calm, and my thermometer registered a moderate 42 degrees. As we sat about resting we made a phone call home to tell about our triumph. The fog came and went and we admired occasional glimpses of the surrounding mountains and valleys. We peered down into the steep, snowfilled Cross Couloir just south of the summit, and shuddered at the thought of coming up that way.
The descent was a bit slowgoing at first, as we picked our way back down over the rocks. My adventurous daughter chose to scramble over big boulders wherever she could, rather than follow the trail, just for the sheer fun of it. We met several other climbers coming up as we descended. Two adventurous young men were peering down a steep, snowfilled gully below the north face of the mountain, and said they wished they had brought their skis to descend that way.
Emily began to tire a little as we got back down onto the north ridge, but she was holding up remarkably well, for this hike is quite an undertaking for a ten year old. We walked past a couple sitting on a rock necking as we neared timberline, and Emily humorously remarked that if a school group were here on a field trip they could observe a nature exhibit. Just before we reached camp we met a party of hikers with several pack llamas, so we pulled Allie aside to avoid a potential confrontation. We arrived at camp just before 1 p.m., and lay in the tent and took a short nap as a shower of rain pattered down.
We considered camping here another night, but after resting and eating some more of our dwindling supply of food, we decided we had had enough of this mosquito infested place. We packed up and broke camp about 4:30, and headed up the trail out of the valley in a light mist. The nap in the tent had rejuvenated us, and we pushed on enthusiastically. Near Halfmoon Pass we encountered a party who had an aggressive Malamute that fiercely chased Allie until the owners called it off. From Halfmoon Pass we descended rapidly back down to the trailhead, where we arrived at 6:30, completing a wonderful outing to visit one of Colorado’s beautiful places.
