MT. MEEKER, SOUTH RIDGE ROUTE
13,911 ft.
July 19, 2003
By Tim Briese
I rose early and left home at 2:40 a.m. in order to meet Brian at the Copeland Lake Trailhead south of Estes Park for an alpine start on our assault of Mt. Meeker. A torrential rain earlier in the night forced the closure of a section of I-25 in central Denver, so I found it necessary to leave the freeway and do an urban bushwhack with my truck on side streets for a while before returning to the interstate. Later on, dawn broke in the northeastern sky as I drove north on the Peak to Peak Highway toward the trailhead. The looming hulk of Meeker towered impressively to the northwest a few miles away in the faint light.
I startled a large black bear with my headlights when I pulled into the Copeland Lake Trailhead area. The shaggy beast was foraging around some trash containers outside a lodge building and abruptly turned and ran down a hill into the woods. I found Brian waiting for me nearby in his parked car, less than a hundred feet away.
The trailhead was just inside the boundary of Rocky Mountain National Park, a stone’s throw away from where we parked on property belonging to a private lodge. Brian had arranged with the lodge owner the day before to park on his property, thus allowing us to avoid paying an unnecessary vehicle entrance fee into the national park. At 5:30 we left our vehicles and walked to the trailhead and struck off up the Sandbeach Lake Trail. There was just enough light to hike without flashlights. The fine trail climbed quickly up onto a high ridge above the valley that holds St. Vrain Creek and carried us westward parallel to the creek high above the willow-filled valley. After two and a half miles we crossed Camper’s Creek, which came in from the right. We made rapid progress, and by 7 a.m., after covering some three and a quarter miles, we reached Hunter’s Creek, where we left the comfort of the main trail and followed a rough use trail along the right side of the creek up a heavily wooded valley. I stopped a time or two to watch the churning water roaring down the swollen creek. The trail was faint in places but we relentlessly followed it for a mile or so until the terrain opened up into the beautiful Meeker Meadow, lying at the southern base of the mountain. The mighty peak grandly towered some 3500 feet above.
Brian and I had selected this seldom-climbed route on Meeker because it is highly recommended in Roach’s guidebook, and also in order to visit a new valley that neither of us had been to before. We were certainly not disappointed, for it turned out to be a beautiful and rewarding route. We did not see anyone on the route all day, in spite of the fact that it was a Saturday in July, other than a handful of hikers on the main Sandbeach Lake Trail who were bound for other destinations.
The lush vegetation filling the meadow was dripping with dew and rain from the night before. We sought out a large flat rock in the tall grass, one of the very few dry spots we could find, and sat down for a rest and snack break. From this vantage point we could observe almost the entire southern face of the mountain, and studied the route we would take to climb it.
The trail faded out in the meadow so we proceeded to bushwhack across it, through tall grass and wild gardens of colorful flowers. This was an idyllic and enchanting place, with rivulets of water merrily flowing everywhere through the lush meadow. We found our way up a minor drainage above the north side of the meadow and climbed 500 feet up a steep grassy slope before cutting west to gain the crest of Meeker’s south ridge, avoiding some cliffs that the ridge harbored below. Above the Meeker Meadow there was no trail whatsoever to follow. This was bushwhacking at its finest!
We proceeded to climb steeply up the south ridge, and were pleasantly surprised to find good footing on grass and firmly planted talus. At about 12,600 feet the ridge narrowed and we came to a massive fin that jutted into the sky. We elected to stay on the relatively modest slopes on the right side of the fin, which turned out to be a good choice, and once above it we crossed to the left side of the ridge at about 12,700 feet. Here we were treated to a spectacular view of Longs’ south face a mile away, and the sheer east face of Pagoda Mountain (13,497'). We worked our way up across blocks of talus below the left side of the ridge to regain the crest and peer down into a couloir running down Meeker’s broad south face.
The sky was mostly clear and blue up to this point, but by 10:30 the first of a few wispy convective clouds began to puff up into the sky. I hoped they would not grow too rapidly, but this was not to be. The summit still seemed to be a considerable distance away. We continued to work our way up the ridge, choosing the most agreeable route we could find, mostly on its left side. At 13,300 feet we came to a gravelly slope and stayed to its right where we found more solid footing. At 13,700 feet the south ridge we were climbing intersected a ridge that ran to the northwest across to Longs. We could see the famous Loft, a broad, nearly flat area which lies in the saddle on the ridge between the two peaks. Here we encountered two other climbers who had apparently come up on another route, pausing for a photo break.
I was alarmed to note the rapid buildup of clouds that were billowing up like lofty castles in the blue sky above. I expressed my concern to Brian and he concurred that we had better quickly push on up to the summit. We rapidly climbed to the east up a talus slope and presently reached the crest of Meeker’s summit ridge. There were multiple points on the ridge that were of about the same height and we had to study them carefully to determine which was the true summit. Brian found the summit register on one and I scrambled over to join him. The climb up onto the summit block is rated at Class 3 in Roach’s guidebook, but it seemed no worse than Class 2+ to us, for we found it quite easy to climb up onto the block by approaching from its southeast side. We reached the summit at 11:45, completing the ascent in a little over six hours.
The summit was indeed a grand and airy place to be. Longs Peak was a most impressive sight from here, and we could see several climbers milling about on its broad summit plateau. I noted in the summit register that about twenty people per week had been coming here recently. We were presently joined by three more climbers who came up the standard Loft Route from the north. They were attempting to climb Longs as well, in spite of the threatening clouds, so they quickly left and continued on their gallant adventure. Brian and I gazed at the fierce-looking ridge to Meeker’s eastern summit (13,860'), and at the lengthy Meeker Ridge beyond, and considered it for a possible descent route, but concluded that such an undertaking would be more prudent to attempt on a day with better weather.
At about 12:20 we left the summit and scurried back down the talus to the upper part of the south ridge. The sky was now filled with dark, threatening clouds. Crack! A bright flash of lightning and a resounding boom of thunder rocked the air! We started to hurry down at an even faster pace when a brighter flash and simultaneous explosion deafened our ears. With hearts racing we scampered to a nearby low area in the rocks and crouched down to protect ourselves from the lightning as best we could. We cast our metal trekking poles aside and crouched with only the balls of our feet touching the rocks to minimize contact with the ground. The next few minutes were terrifying, as several more lightning bolts struck nearby, including two that were extremely close, probably no more than a few yards away. This was the realization of my worst mountain climbing nightmare, to be caught high on a ridge in an electrical storm! Over the years I have always made early starts on climbs in order to avoid such terrifying and dangerous experiences. Apparently we had not started early enough today! The two climbers we had seen taking a break earlier were now somewhere up near the summit, and I wondered how they were faring. Sleet pelted down furiously while we crouched under our ponchos. After fifteen minutes or so the storm let up and the lightning strikes were further away, so we cautiously continued our descent. We did not go more than a hundred feet, though, when another bright flash ripped through the air right in front of us and an instantaneous explosion shocked us nearly senseless! I fell to the ground and then got up and immediately ran with Brian to a nearby low point to crouch down once again. My heart raced in sheer terror! After another wait we finally decided to proceed again and rapidly slid down the gravel slope below. I felt very glad to be alive!
The other two climbers appeared on the ridge above and hollered down to see if we were okay, and I responded that we were. When Brian and I reached the talus slopes on the ridge below we found the going slow and tedious because the rocks were slickened by the sleet and rain. Brian slipped on a wet rock and partially fell but fortunately was not injured. Another black cloud moved over us as we hiked past the notch so we took another short break to crouch down once again, as a precautionary measure, for we were still on very exposed terrain, perilously close to the crest of the ridge. This cloud delivered nothing but a shower of sleet, though. After this threat passed we continued down without further incident.
At 11,500 feet we stopped for a nice break on a slope high above the Meeker Meadow. As we resumed our descent toward the meadow another ominous black cloud with rumbles of thunder approached from the northwest, but we were no longer very concerned because the safety of the trees was not far away.
We bushwhacked down the pleasant grassy slopes into the meadow, on a course a little to the west of where we had gone up. The terrain here was gentle and forgiving, affording a generous choice of easy routes. We soon found the use trail and hiked back down the valley along Hunter’s Creek. Lightning now rocked the summits once again, and I was glad to be where we were. Rain fell softly in the woods for a while as we hiked along, but it let up and ended about the time we rejoined the main Sandbeach Lake Trail at 3:30.
The trail back to the parking area seemed much longer than it had in the morning, and at 5 p.m. we finally tramped back down to the trailhead. I estimated that we hiked about twelve and a half miles and climbed 5600 feet of elevation gain on this rugged and rewarding climb.
Mt. Meeker is a beautiful peak in a spectacular setting, with fine views of Longs Peak and other areas of Rocky Mountain National Park. The summit ridge, in particular, was an exciting place to be. Meeker is probably a little harder to climb than Longs, at least by way of the route we took. It is probably one of the harder of the Centennial Thirteeners, too, for that matter. As I drove home I felt that I had climbed a real mountain on that unforgettable day.
