LA PLATA PEAK
14,336 ft.
July 20, 1996
By Tim Briese
One day I was pleasantly surprised to receive a phone call from my good friend Tim Detweiler, who was coming to Colorado for a church conference in Estes Park. Tim and I had done various climbs together in past years when he lived in the state, before his ministry led him to a new position as a pastor of a church in Iowa. Tim asked if I would be interested in climbing a 14er while he was here, and I enthusiastically agreed. We settled on La Plata Peak, and arranged to meet for the climb.
I met Tim in Idaho Springs on a sunny Friday afternoon. We left his car in the Safeway parking lot and drove on into the mountains together in my truck. We drove up the Clear Creek road south of Leadville to the old ghost mining town of Winfield, and four wheeled a short distance beyond to a meadow where we selected a spot to camp. It was a beautiful place to camp, with a nice view of high peaks to the southeast across the valley, and a stream singing nearby in the woods beyond the edge of the meadow. It was a clear and beautiful evening, too, and we watched the last rays of sunlight bathe the mountains in an orange glow as we ate our dinner. I had not visited with Tim for a couple of years, so it was very nice to sit around our warm campfire that night and catch up on old times. At 11 p.m. we finally retired for the evening, with the pleasant sound of the stream nearby filling the air.
We arose at dawn and packed up camp in the early morning chill. From camp we four wheeled a half mile further up the road and parked when the road became too rough to suit us. At 6:45 we struck off up the old road on foot under a beautiful cloudless sky and presently followed a rougher spur road to the right a short distance uphill and reached the formal trailhead. The trail at first took us upward through heavy timber before the woods opened up to afford us a fine view down into the north fork of the Clear Creek Valley to the west. At 11,600 feet we left the woods behind and hiked up into a scenic valley above timberline. This high basin was especially enchanting in the glow of the early morning light. We gradually ascended past marshy areas and an occasional bank of snow before beginning a steep climb up a slope at the northwest end of the valley. It was a stiff 700 foot ascent up this slope to the 12,800 foot saddle between La Plata and Sayres Peak (13,738 ft.). The exhilarating views back down into the valley below kept us energized, though.
After a brief rest at the saddle we began hiking to the northeast up La Plata’s broad and gentle southwest slope. After a half mile on this gentle interlude we began another grueling ascent and climbed 800 feet up a steep, rocky slope. This was quite a strenuous workout, and we were quite relieved to finally reach the top of this slope at 13,900 feet. From here we continued on gentler grades on the final quarter of a mile toward the summit. This route we followed on La Plata from Winfield entails an alternating series of easy grades and steep climbs, offering an apt metaphor for the course of life itself.
At 10:30 we climbed up over the last few rocks and stepped atop the lofty summit. The sky was still mostly clear, affording us excellent visibility that permitted fine views in all directions. We could see Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive to the north, the rugged Elk Range to the west, and the distant San Juans far to the southwest, with Uncompahgre Peak reigning tall above the rest of the range.
Tim was on a sabbatical from his ministry this summer, pausing to examine life’s bearings, which is a good idea for anyone from any walk of life. I thought his plan to climb a mountain during this time was an excellent one, for what better place to come for reflective insight than to a mountaintop! People have done so since ancient times. Indeed, Tim later said that this climb of La Plata was the highpoint, both figuratively and literally, of his sabbatical. The exhilarating experience of being on a mountain can feed the mind, body, and soul.
Shortly after we reached the summit several other climbers arrived. Many of them had come up the more commonly used Northwest Ridge route from Highway 82. I was glad we came up the way we did, though, for the other route looked steeper and less scenic, from what I could see from this vantage point. Incredibly, one climber came up barefoot! He was a middle aged man with long hair and very tough looking feet, and I wondered how he managed to handle the miles of sharp gravel and rough rocks on the trail.
After a half hour or so we left the top and began our descent. I rolled an ankle while walking across the talus near the top, but was able to walk it off and continue on without any trouble. We rapidly descended the steep rocky slope and soon reached the saddle below. As we were descending the second steep slope into the valley we saw a man approaching with a dog. When the dog ran up to us I extended my hand in what I thought was a friendly gesture, but the dog perceived it otherwise and bit me on the wrist. The bite was not serious, fortunately, barely drawing any blood, but the owner was nevertheless very apologetic about his dog’s behavior.
We continued on down the valley in the pleasantly warm afternoon sunshine, admiring the grand alpine scenery around us. About 1 p.m. we returned to the truck, quite tired after our eight mile hike, but not exhausted. We were filled with a pleasant and satisfying glow from this scenic climb of a fine summit.
