PIGEON PEAK
(13,972 ft.)TURRET PEAK
(13,835 ft.)July 16, 2002
By Tim Briese
I was fascinated by the challenge of climbing these two rugged peaks after I read about them in Gerry Roach’s excellent 13er guide. The climb involves a considerable routefinding challenge on a rough, steep approach, and a rugged ascent of these two magnificent summits that lie in the Needle Mountains, amidst Colorado’s finest alpine grandeur. For many months I looked forward to this adventure!
My friend Brian and I planned to ride the Durango to Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad to Needleton and backpack up to a high meadow at the base of Pigeon via the North Pigeon Creek approach. A few weeks before our planned departure, though, the train ceased operating due to serious concerns about fire danger, as a massive wildfire raged near Durango in this year of extreme drought. This was quite a disappointment, needless to say. I reluctantly agreed to form alternate plans for other climbs, but in the meantime drought conditions began to ease a bit and three days before our departure the railroad announced that it was resuming operations. We were back in business!
Brian and I made good use of our time by climbing Jones and Niagara Peaks in the morning before catching our train out of Silverton at 3:30 in the afternoon. We could see the impressive profile of Pigeon from town, about twelve miles away down the Animas River Valley to the south. The train was surprisingly empty, and we had a whole car to ourselves. We spent much of the ride visiting with a friendly conductor who sat down and chatted with us. We reached Needleton at 4:30 and disembarked in the afternoon heat along with a group of sixteen backpackers who were bound for Chicago Basin. After donning our packs we walked across the fine footbridge over the Animas River and turned north and walked past a few cabins along the Animas River Trail.
Evidence of the drought was all around. Grass and undergrowth was dry and crunchy underfoot, and needles were falling off some of the pine trees along the way. An abundance of dry, dead timber and brush was lying all about, and a single spark could have quickly ignited a raging inferno. The Animas River was remarkably low, too, carrying perhaps ten to twenty percent of its normal volume of water. It was so low that one could likely have waded across it carefully, something unheard of in a normal year. Conditions were reportedly the driest in a century.
About an eighth of a mile north of the bridge we crossed Pigeon Creek, a small tributary of the Animas, and were surprised to find it totally dry. This was rather alarming, for we began to wonder if we would be able to find water on the upper reaches of the mountain at our backpack destination the next day, because water was essential for camping and climbing. We carefully followed Roach’s impeccable directions to reach the Lower Camper’s Meadow along the Animas, and then the Upper Camper’s Meadow nearby, and the beginning of the Ruby Creek Trail at the edge of the meadow. Trails were not marked anywhere. We were tempted to backpack part way up the Ruby Creek Trail to take advantage of the daylight hours we had left but we did not know if we could find water along the route, or even a flat place to camp in the steep and rough terrain.
We decided it was essential to know if there was water in the North Pigeon Creek drainage that we would be following up toward Pigeon the next day. In a normal year the availability of water would not be a concern at all in these mountains that are typically so lush and wet, but now the feasibility of our entire climb hinged on it! I decided to go on a scouting mission up the Ruby Creek Trail to have a look at North Pigeon Creek while Brian waited in the meadow below. It was a grueling hike up the relentlessly steep trail, as I climbed from 8300 feet elevation in the meadow to 9600 feet at the creek crossing, in about three-fourths of a mile. I was pleased to see water merrily gurgling down through the rocks when I reached the creek, and was convinced that we would likely find enough higher up in the upper reaches of the drainage at timberline the next day, too. I quickly scouted about for possible campsites in the rough terrain near the creek crossing, also, and determined that it might be possible to camp there, but only if one were desperate.
I returned to Brian in the meadow about an hour later and reported on what I had found. It was now nearly 7 p.m., and we decided to set up camp in the meadow and save the entire steep backpack that remained for the next day. The grass was tinder dry in the meadow, making us uneasy to light even a backpack stove, but a light shower of rain passed through and dampened the grass to alleviate our concern.
We rose and broke camp the next morning and headed up the steep trail at 8:25. Buoyed along by enthusiasm, we made surprisingly fast progress in spite of our heavy packs and reached the North Pigeon Creek crossing in just under an hour. We paused there to rest for half an hour while we ate and filtered water.
From this point at the creek crossing Pigeon Peak lies high above out of sight behind a ridge, only a mile and a half to the southeast up at the head of the drainage. A direct ascent up the drainage is not practical because it is choked with boulders, logs, and dense foliage. The only reasonable route is to traverse upward across very steep slopes parallel to the drainage well above its northern side.
After the break we continued up the brutally steep Ruby Creek Trail on the north side of the creek for about 250 yards until we reached a turnoff to head to the right toward Pigeon. This junction was clearly marked with a cairn and a columbine carved into an aspen tree, just as Roach describes. The faint trail that we followed quickly faded away, and we found ourselves bushwhacking upward through the steep and rugged terrain, picking the best route we could up through rocky areas and around or over numerous fallen trees. I had never backpacked before in terrain so steep and rough. I had hoped to carefully memorize landmarks in order to find the way back down through this savage wilderness, but quickly discovered this was almost impossible in such terrain. Occasionally we saw pieces of orange flag tape that a previous adventurer had tied to tree branches to mark a route, but they were much too far apart to be of any use in routefinding. They merely served to augment our peace of mind, reassuring us that someone had gone this way before. This route involved the greatest routefinding challenge I had ever undertaken, and I caution anyone who attempts it to be sure that their routefinding and orienteering skills are finely honed.
Eventually the steep grade eased a bit when we neared 11,000 feet, and a faint trail appeared that we generally followed upward through the tall timber, around numerous fallen logs. We were back closer to North Pigeon Creek now and could hear it gurgling through the rocks a short distance away. We were becoming very tired and paused for a break to rest and put our pack covers on as a light shower of rain pattered down. We did not tarry long here, though, because a swarm of flies encouraged us to move on. A fine view of Pigeon appeared through the trees that helped to refresh my enthusiasm.
We pressed on up the trail and just after 1:00 burst out of the woods and reached our destination, an enchanting meadow at 11,740 feet. This was a spectacular place, with a stunning view of Pigeon towering above the east end of the meadow a half mile away. It reminded me of the view of Capitol Peak from my camp at Capitol Lake a few years before, except that this view seemed even more dramatic.
We were exhausted from our climb, having ascended 3400 feet in about two and a half miles while carrying full backpacks, in just under five hours. It was remarkable to consider that the train track was less than three miles away in the valley far below. It seemed more like thirty, given the rugged terrain through which we had toiled to reach this elusive place. We had previously discussed the possibility of climbing Pigeon and Turret this afternoon after our backpack up to this meadow if conditions permitted, but that seemed ridiculous now! We rapidly set up our tents as a rainstorm approached and then lay in our tents and listened to the rain and wind lash against them for a while. Later on the sun reappeared and we went back outside and looked around. What a magnificent place to camp this was! Camping anywhere between this high meadow, or in the woods nearby, and the meadow down by the Animas would be challenging, at best, with only a handful of flat sites available and no water except at the North Pigeon Creek crossing.
We walked about 100 yards down from the end of the meadow to find a trickle of water that we used for cooking and drinking. As the hours of afternoon and evening went by I was engaged in absorbing the grandeur of this spectacular place, and my eyes were repeatedly drawn back up to the imposing sight of Pigeon towering above. We studied the route we would take in the morning up the steep grassy slopes on its left side to the rugged upper north face above.
We rose a little before 5 a.m. the next morning in chilly 36 degree air, and were pleased to see a clear sky with stars twinkling in the twilight. At 5:10 we struck off across the meadow toward Pigeon, using our flashlights in the faint light for the first ten minutes or so. Soon we were on the steep grassy slopes below the pointed summit, and rapidly gained elevation as we worked our way up around numerous rocky areas, trying to stay on grass for good footing as much as possible. We were able to stay on grass all the way to about 13,400 feet before finding it necessary to ascend a short distance further on scree and talus to the northern base of the summit pyramid. The north face consisted of a ledgy slope with a myriad of rocky ramps, and appeared easier to climb the closer we got to it. In a normal year snow may complicate the climb on this north-facing slope, but there was almost none here now. Brian selected a class four chimney to climb up while I found an easier class three crack to the right that I ascended. We soon rejoined, found a few scattered cairns, and followed some ledges and steep gravelly slopes upward to the summit, where we arrived about 7:30.
What a grand view of the Needle Mountains we had from the summit! Particularly impressive were Arrow and Vestal Peaks off to the north. Jagged Mountain jutted into the eastern sky, while the Chicago Basin 14ers lay off to the southeast. In the foreground a half mile to the southeast lay Turret, our next objective, and we previewed the route we would take to climb it. The sky was completely clear but quite hazy from the smoke of forest fires. The peaks and ridges to the north and east were cast in interesting layered silhouettes due to the haze in the early morning light.
Only about 75 people had signed the summit register since it was placed here two years before. This year there had been one climber here in May, six in June, and we were the first ones on the summit so far in July. The very low numbers for this year probably reflected the fact that the train had not run for several weeks, which severely limited the access to this remote area. We felt quite privileged to be among the select few to visit this magnificent peak.
While on the summit I called home and talked to my wife and shared this moment of triumph with her. At about 8:20 we left the summit and headed down. I paused for a moment to admire a fine view of Arrow and Vestal as we went back down the north face. It was a fast, easy descent on scree and grass once we got below the rocky upper slopes. We dropped down to 12,300 feet and contoured around the west side of the mountain to circle around to Turret. Upon reaching the southwest side of the mountain we made a grueling ascent on scree and talus to a saddle on the ridge south of Pigeon at 12,780 feet.
We arrived at the saddle at 10 a.m. and stopped to rest and study the route to Turret. The first clouds of the day were beginning to puff up into the clear blue sky. We soon left the saddle and contoured across grassy slopes to the northeast toward Turret, stopping along the way to admire an incredible profile view of Pigeon’s sheer east face. We worked our way up Turret’s rocky northwest ridge and climbed up a class two plus slot before reaching easier terrain above. From there we hiked 150 yards to the southeast up gravel and rock-covered slopes to the summit, where we arrived just before 11 a.m.
The views from the summit of Turret were even better then they had been from Pigeon. We spent a magnificent hour on the summit gazing at the spectacular panorama of the Needle Mountains spread out around us. We admired the Vestal Group, Monitor Peak, Jagged Mountain, the Rio Grande Pyramid, the Turret Needles, and the Eolus Group, all thrusting their pointed summits into the sky. The most impressive view of all, though, was that of Pigeon Peak and its sheer east face just a half mile away. These were among the best summit views I had seen from any mountain, including all of the 14ers, as we feasted our eyes on some of the finest alpine grandeur Colorado has to offer. I shot over a roll of film while we were on the summit, trying to capture the best essence of lighting upon the landscape under the partly cloudy sky. It was pleasant and calm as we sat on top, and we were loathe to leave. Brian said he didn’t want to be the one to even suggest that we consider heading down, but a little after noon we reluctantly agreed to begin our descent.
The descent was very rapid as we hiked back down to the saddle and bushwhacked down a grassy valley to our camp in the meadow in just under an hour. A rainshower was approaching from the north so we decided to immediately pack up camp before it arrived to keep our gear dry. After packing up we rested for a while and filtered water at the stream in the woods below.
Just before 2 p.m. we began the rugged bushwhack from our lofty camp back down through the timber, taking short, slow steps to keep our balance with our heavy packs as we went downhill on the steep grades. For a while all went quite well, as we virtually retraced the route we had taken on the way up. However, when we got down onto some very steep aspen-covered slopes at about 10,500 feet, and found ourselves stumbling over a maze of downed trees, we began to second-guess ourselves, and wondered if we were going the right way since we didn’t remember the route going up to be quite so rugged. Brian checked a GPS waypoint he had made on the way up and we were pleasantly surprised to find that it was only about 200 feet away from where we stood. Reassured, we continued down and soon began to recognize landmarks along the way once again. A shower of rain began to patter down, making the steep slopes slippery and a bit hazardous, so we slowed our pace and cautiously continued.
Presently we reached the Ruby Creek Trail and the columbine carved in the tree, and the routefinding challenge was over. After a rest at North Pigeon Creek we doggedly hiked on down the steep trail back down to the Lower Camper’s Meadow, where we arrived at 4:40. We were pleased that the backpack down took us only two hours and forty-five minutes. We were quite exhausted, though, having done about 3700 feet of elevation gain and 7200 feet of descent that day. We had previously discussed the idea of doing a sixteen mile dayhike to climb Jupiter Mountain in Chicago Basin the following day, but that seemed like a cruel joke now!
After setting up camp we ate dinner and talked for a while before retiring for the night. I fell into a sound sleep by 9 p.m. The next morning we leisurely packed up camp in the morning sunshine and hiked a half mile down to the Animas River bridge and waited for the 12:30 train to take us back to Silverton.
This expedition was an incredible alpine adventure. I had never done such a rugged off-trail backpack before, and Pigeon was one of the most spectacular mountains I have climbed. We covered about nine miles roundtrip while climbing 7200 feet of elevation gain, but these numbers do not fully reflect the scope of what we did, for the terrain was very steep and rugged nearly all the way. In spite of the challenges involved in this adventure, I was eager to return someday and climb more of the rugged peaks we saw in that spectacular place.
