SOUTH MAROON PEAK
14,156 ft.
August 15, 2000
By Tim Briese
I drove out to Snowmass Village the afternoon before the climb, and met friends Brian and Jason in the lobby of the Wildwood Lodge where we were to stay. It was good to see my fellow mountain climbers again. Brian and I had been planning this climb for nearly a year, and the day had finally arrived. We ate dinner at a nearby Mexican restaurant and spent the rest of the evening discussing mountain climbing, the common passion which had drawn us all together in the first place.
We rose at 3:30 a.m., after a brief and restless sleep, and drove down the road toward Maroon Lake, dodging a couple of deer along the way. There were already some clouds in an otherwise moonlit sky, which was a bit worrisome, for we needed excellent weather for a successful climb of this difficult peak.
As we hit the trail from Maroon Lake at 4:30 a.m., I thought about how fun it was to be doing this with two companions who had as great of a passion for the mountains as I. We were all willing to sacrifice sleep for an early start in order to enhance the odds of a successful climb. We headed up the trail in bright moonlight, under a sky that was now mostly clear. The moon hung in the sky just above the Maroon Bells, with moonlight glimmering on Maroon Lake. It was quite a beautiful sight. I noticed dewdrops on the lush plants along the trail shimmering like diamonds in the moonlight.
After a half hour or so the moon set behind the Bells and Brian and I pulled out our flashlights to find our way. Jason, with apparent catlike vision, led us along at a nice pace without a flashlight as we hiked on up to Crater Lake. Brian then set the pace for a while as we continued on up the West Maroon Creek trail.
We had good daylight by the time we really needed it as we left the main trail about 6:15 a.m. and began the steep ascent up South Maroon’s southeast flank. It was a long, steep grind up on grass, dirt, and gravel on a reasonable trail. As we were ascending this slope the sun rose over Pyramid Peak to the east and warmed us with its gentle rays. At one point we lost the trail in the grass, but soon found it again and followed it on up to the crest of the southeast ridge, and hiked steeply along the crest to a point at 13,300 feet. We arrived at this point at 8:45, and felt pleased with the 2800 feet of gain we’d done in two and a half hours.
From this point we had our first good look at South Maroon’s rugged southwest face. It was quite an intimidating view of the challenge that remained ahead, but I felt little concern, being in the company of such able and experienced climbing companions.
After a short break we donned our helmets and headed up along the ridge crest, then dropped down, and then up a class 4 chute. The route up through the chute was difficult to find at first because a cairn marking it had been knocked over, although common sense told us it was the only feasible way to go. From here we followed a tortuous route along ledges around the southwest face, zigzagging up and down, in and around gullies, with steep cliffs above and below at times. We had minor routefinding questions here and there, but generally did not have much trouble finding the well-cairned trail. There were expanses of loose rock lying about everywhere, but the rocks we needed for hand and foot holds seemed solid enough.
This incredible trail was much more involved and took longer than I anticipated. The photos and descriptions in the guidebooks simply do not fully prepare one for the intricacies involved in this complicated route. Looking back at where we had traversed from, it seemed impossible that a trail could take one through such a maze of cliffy ledges. After traversing in and out of four or five lesser gullies, we eventually reached the big gully the guidebooks describe that we would follow upward about 400 feet. We ascended this gully on very loose scree almost to the saddle at its top, and found the narrow exit ledge on the left which we followed around to the steep, ledgy southwest face, about 400 feet directly below the summit. We zigzagged steeply up the amazing trail on this face to the ridge crest just south of the summit, and then walked about 300 feet northward to the top, arriving at 10:40.
It was magnificent on top, with views from Holy Cross to Uncompahgre to the Grand Mesa, and of the rugged Elk Range that we stood in the middle of. North Maroon was a spectacular sight to the north, less than half a mile away, with the rugged connecting ridge to it below us. Brian and I had previously discussed doing the traverse across to North Maroon so that he could bag that summit, too, but I was thankful that he and Jason had climbed it separately two days before, because I had lost some of my enthusiasm about doing that traverse over the previous few months. We heard distant voices and saw two climbers approaching on the ridge traverse far below, probably more than an hour away from reaching our summit.
Pyramid Peak towered mightily across the valley, with its summit, like the one on which we stood, 4000 feet above the creek far below. Looking down at the floor of the valley where we started our climb seemed like looking down from an airplane. To the northwest lay Capitol and Snowmass Peaks, with a beautiful gemlike lake lying in the foreground below amidst red rocky ridges.
It was truly exhilarating standing atop this peak, after the long, difficult climb to get here. The small summit consisted of a white colored rock, with a vein of redder rock a few feet to the north. This color difference is characteristic of the tilted sedimentary layers of which this mountain is made. It is incredible to consider that this 14,000 foot summit once lay beneath an ocean! The summit ridge sloped gently to the northeast for a hundred feet or so, from the end of which was a magnificent view down the valley to Maroon Lake. Numerous times over the years I had stood down by that lake looking up here admiring the Maroon Bells, but now I was on top of them looking back the other direction!
We spent a triumphant hour on the summit, absorbing the grandeur around us. We could see a half dozen people atop North Maroon, and could faintly see two climbers on top of Pyramid, but we had this summit all to ourselves. It was 59 degrees and calm, with a few clouds building up around us.
We left that thrilling place at 11:40 and began our descent. The cairns seemed easier to spot on the way down, more so than familiarity with the route would account for. The descent went smoothly, although it was tedious. I frequently used my hands while rock scrambling on this trail, but mostly just for balance, rather than for pulling myself up or letting myself down as I had on more technical climbs. As steep as the terrain was, there didn’t seem to be as many precipitous dropoffs here as there had been on Pyramid or North Maroon. I felt more comfortable with the terrain on this climb, although part of that comfort was rooted in confidence in my skillful climbing companions.
This was certainly a difficult 14er, perhaps the hardest in the state. It was more physically demanding than neighboring Pyramid or North Maroon, although not quite as technically difficult. Notwithstanding its difficulty, this was a spectacular mountain and trail. I think I would come back to do this one again.
At 1:10 p.m. we were back at point 13,300 feet on the south ridge, with the difficult climbing behind us. That was a good place to be, too, for thunderstorms were now piling up. I accepted Brian’s kind suggestion that I push on back to the trailhead so I could get on my way home. I scooted back down the steep flank of the southeast ridge with Jason, descending about 2800 feet in an hour, with my knees paying the price.
Jason waited at the bottom by the creek for Brian, while I pressed on down the easy trail along the creek, pausing to filter some water to drink. A few sprinkles from the sky cooled me off a bit. I admired the beautiful Bells passing by in lofty grandeur high above, and took several photos. I was getting very tired as I reached the parking lot at 3:45, after an eleven hour hike. As I looked back up at the Bells I couldn’t believe that I had now climbed them both. Ten years ago I would have considered that incredulous.
The nice weather we had for our difficult climb that day was very timely, for when I crossed the Continental Divide on my drive home soon after I left I encountered much rainier weather. The rain persisted most of the way home, where I arrived at 8:45, very tired but thoroughly satisfied with our successful climb.
