SAN LUIS PEAK
(14,014 ft.)September 18, 2006
By Tim Briese
I have many fond memories of my first climb of San Luis Peak, in September of 2000, which was my final climb to complete all the 14ers in the state. Over the past few years since then I have looked forward to climbing it again, especially during the fall at the height of the color season, and with my wife Teresa, who was unable to accompany me the first time. This year my wish was fulfilled.
We left home late on Sunday morning, the day before the climb, with our two labs loaded into our truck, and drove into the mountains. We took a scenic route to enjoy the fall colors, to Buena Vista, over Cottonwood Pass, to Crested Butte, partway up the spectacular Kebler Pass road, and back down the magnificent Ohio Pass road to Gunnison, where we stayed that night.
We rose early the next morning, thankful to be in a motel rather than camping, because a strong autumn cold front had moved through two days before, and the temperature was only 23 degrees when we left town at 7 a.m. We headed south toward the Stewart Creek Trailhead, following the directions in Roach=s 14er guide. It took over an hour and a half to reach this spot, which lies in one of the most remote areas of the state. The route to the trailhead is long and complicated, with the last 30 miles on gravel and dirt roads. Thank goodness, Roach=s directions are excellent. Along the way we were treated to beautiful scenery including stands of flaming golden aspens on this crystal clear day.
We arrived at the trailhead and hit the fine trail up the Stewart Creek Valley at 9 a.m. The September sun had taken much of the chill out of the air, and it had now warmed to 35 degrees, but frost still coated the vegetation on the valley floor. We clipped rapidly up the trail, through meadows and forests and past numerous charming beaver ponds. After hiking about four miles we stopped for a nice break at timberline, and gazed about at the fine views of the surrounding peaks.
This hike afforded me a nice opportunity to study routes up the bicentennial 13ers Baldy Alto and Organ Mountain, which I hope to return and climb someday. Today was my fourth climbing trip into the La Garitas over the past few years, and I have thoroughly enjoyed each one. I feel drawn to these mountains because they are remote and secluded, and their relatively gentle and rolling terrain is soothing to the soul.
The climb became a bit more grueling when we began ascending the slope to a saddle at the head of the valley. For a short time we hiked along a picturesque little stream that was partially covered with glistening white ice. We met a friendly couple from Kansas City coming down the trail, the first people we saw on the hike today, and stopped to visit for a little bit. The trail flattened out when we reached the broad 13,100 foot saddle between Organ and San Luis. After a short break we continued up the fine trail that gradually ascends San Luis= curving north ridge. We met another hiker coming down, the only other one we met today.
The trail stays mostly on the eastern side of the ridge, which was fortuitous because a strong west wind was blowing, and we were protected from it until the final 200 yards to the summit, when the trail left the comfort of the lee side of the ridge.
We stepped onto the fine summit at 1:30, having hiked about six miles from the trailhead. We were treated to magnificent clear views in all directions. A dusting of snow that had fallen a few days before added a special touch of beauty to the surrounding peaks. It was quite windy with a chilly temperature of 39 degrees on the summit, so we did not tarry too long and left after about 20 minutes.
We rapidly hiked back down to the saddle, buoyed along by a lingering feeling of summit exhilaration, and arrived there at 2:30. My left knee was bothering me today, and felt quite painful while descending whenever I bent it significantly, but I refused to let it dampen the fun of this fine outing.
We decided to turn this climb into a loop hike by descending southeast from the saddle into the Cochetopa Creek drainage, in order to explore a new valley and see some new scenery today. We planned to hike down and pick up the Colorado Trail and follow it all the way down the drainage along Cochetopa Creek to the Eddiesville Trailhead, which was just a few hundred yards down the road from where our truck was parked at the Stewart Creek Trailhead. We knew this return route would be somewhat longer, but weren=t sure how much. From the saddle we bushwhacked down pleasant grassy tundra slopes toward the beautiful valley below. There was a faint trail in places but it soon disappeared. We tried to stay high on the grassy slopes to avoid extensive patches of willowy bushes below, and for a while followed a line of short poles that had apparently been placed to mark a route. We crossed two side drainages that ran up from the main valley, and continued bushwhacking downward on a gently descending traverse, frequently stopping to exult in the spectacularly beautiful scenery surrounding us. We were still several hundred feet above timberline at this point, so the views were expansive. This was a lot of fun, finding our way across the tundra down through the rocks, bushes, and grass, surrounded by alpine grandeur. We finally picked out a side drainage and decided to follow it down to the floor of the valley to find the trail along Cochetopa Creek. Organ Mountain, with its namesake southern face, presented a fine view directly to the north of us. We finally descended into the woods, bushwhacked down through them and eventually found the Colorado Trail, also known here as the Skyline Trail. Teresa seemed relieved that our routefinding had successfully brought us to the trail.
It was now 4 p.m., and the sun was sinking into the southwestern sky. We took a nice break on a grassy spot amidst some willows to rest. The map I had along did not include this drainage, so we weren=t sure how far we had to go yet. I thought perhaps three or four miles, but it turned out to be nearly seven! In spite of the length it turned out to be a beautiful hike down the valley, though, with aspen groves, fortress-like peaks above, and a charming stream and beaver ponds. There were frequent openings in the woods that afforded fine views. We found the Cochetopa Creek drainage to be even more scenic that the Stewart Creek drainage that we went up in the morning.
The trail went on and on, and the shadows lengthened as the sun sank toward the ridges to the west. The drainage eventually evolved into a broad, open, grassy valley, several hundred yards wide. As dusk approached we saw a herd of elk ahead, near a rock outcropping in the middle of the valley floor. After they watched us approach they ran off to the safety of the aspen woods on the other side of the valley. More and more elk appeared as we hiked along. Some were alone, and others were in groups of two or three, or even a dozen or more. About a half hour before sunset the elk began to bugle occasionally, a fascinating and strange sound we had never experienced before. This continued off and on until about a half hour after sunset. More elk continued to appear, and at one point we had to call off our dogs when they began to chase an elk we came upon. All told, we saw perhaps 30 or 40 elk, and heard their bugling calls 15 or 20 times.
It was exhilarating hiking down this beautiful valley, with the pleasant smells of autumn wafting through the air, and the colorful yellows and reds fading into the dusky twilight. A chill rapidly set in which induced us to put on our coats. Just as we began to wonder if the trail would ever end we finally reached the Eddiesville Trailhead. I could just barely make out the words on the trailhead sign without a flashlight.in the near darkness. Stars were appearing in the clear sky as we hiked up the road a quarter mile back to our truck. We arrived there about 8 p.m., after covering over 16 miles today.
I fed our ravenously hungry dogs, who had held up remarkably well on this long hike. We loaded up with aid of a flashlight and then took off. The drive out was even more complicated than the drive in had been, because of the darkness, so we stopped at each intersection we came to and carefully checked Roach=s directions in order to avoid getting lost.
As we headed back north toward Highway 50 we stopped for a few minutes and shut off the truck lights and stepped outside to admire the stars blazing brightly in the sky above. The entire sky looked like a glittering field of diamonds. Far from civilization and lights, in incredibly clear air, the Milky Way glowed brilliantly, a broad band of streaming light stretching across the entire sky. I had never seen it so bright before!
We had planned to drive home that evening, but instead pulled into a motel in Salida at 11 p.m. and called it a day. And what an incredible day it was! What a magnificent hike in a beautiful area! Teresa said this hike was one of her all-time favorites.
