SOUTH ARAPAHO PEAK
13,397 ft.
November 5, 2001
By Tim Briese
Warm and dry Indian Summer weather continued into November, and I was eager to take advantage of it and get out on a new climbing adventure. I had never been to the Indian Peaks Wilderness before and wanted to explore this interesting area. South Arapaho Peak seemed like a reasonable goal to attempt, because the route up its south-facing slopes would likely be largely free of snow and its lofty summit would afford a fine vantage point from which to observe the surrounding Indian Peaks.
I left home at 5 a.m. and headed past Denver into the mountains. I took the Peak to Peak scenic highway off of I-70 toward Nederland, a route I had not been on in many years. I drove past the Eldora Ski Area and followed a forest road about five miles up to the Fourth of July Trailhead, at 10,100 feet, stopping along the way to take a photo of South Arapaho Peak. There were two other people at the trailhead preparing to embark on a hike. Signs at the trailhead described summer camping restrictions, a leash law, and other restrictive measures that led me to believe that this is a very heavily used area, but I didn’t suppose that I would see many other visitors here on this weekday in November.
I hit the trail at 7:30 with my lab Allie under a deep blue autumn sky. There were scattered patches of snow and a few frozen puddles in some places on the trail, but it was generally in excellent shape. I followed the Arapaho Pass Trail as it gradually climbed up the valley for about two miles to a trail junction near the old Fourth of July Mine, which lay close to timberline, at about 11,200 feet. Timberline is noticeably lower here in this part of the state compared to southern areas like the San Juans, since it is a couple of hundred miles further north.
The steep left shoulder of South Arapaho reared up to the northwest above the valley. I recognized its distinctive long slope that I had often gazed at with binoculars from my home some 80 miles southeast of here. I had surmised that the mountain I could see on the horizon was South Arapaho, but I was never quite sure until I confirmed it on my visit here now. It was exciting to positively identify and climb a mountain I had looked upon from afar for so many years.
At the trail junction I took the Arapaho Glacier Trail and followed its switchbacks that carried me high above the valley on a grassy tundra slope. A moderate wind was blowing out of the west, and I hoped it wouldn’t be too strong when I got up closer to the summit. There was a grand view across the valley of Mt. Neva and Jasper Peak, which were graced by a generous coat of snow on their northern slopes. I could also see the Arapaho Pass Trail that I had left below as it climbed to the west and passed a high lake at 12,000 feet near the Continental Divide. It took me about an hour to climb 1500 feet from the junction up to the Arapaho Saddle at 12,700 feet, which lies on a ridge between South Arapaho and Old Baldy (13,038'). Here I was greeted by a spectacular view of North and South Arapaho Peaks and the massive Arapaho Glacier, lying in a vast bowl on the other side of the saddle.
The sharp pointed summit of South Arapaho towered above me just to the west, a most impressive sight. The sheer cliffs on its east face looked quite intimidating, but fortunately there was a nice route to the left of the cliffs up its rocky southern slope. I picked my way up through the boulders on this slope and stepped atop the summit at 10:30, after hiking just over four miles from the trailhead.
From the summit there were grand views all around, from Mt. Evans far to the south sweeping around to Longs Peak to the north. The Winter Park Ski Area was a few miles to the south, beyond a couple of intervening ridges. The jagged summits of the Gore Range lay off to the southwest. I pulled out my map and studied the nearby peaks in the Indian Peaks Wilderness, hoping to gain some foothold of familiarity with this new place. To the northwest, just over a half mile away, lay North Arapaho Peak, with pointed Navajo Peak just beyond to the right.
There was a round metal plaque about two feet in diameter mounted on a rock on the summit, with directional arrows inscribed on it that identified numerous mountains and ranges that could be seen from this lofty vantage point. It pointed out faraway summits like Pikes Peak and Holy Cross, and nearby ones such as Kiowa Peak and Mt. Audubon, with distances and elevations given for each feature pointed out. The plaque had been placed there in 1928 by the Colorado Mountain Climbers Club. Interestingly, many of the elevation numbers differed from currently accepted figures. Mt. Massive was listed at 14,404 feet, some thirty feet lower than its current number, and Grays and Torreys were put at 14,340 feet, some seventy feet higher.
I studied the rough ridge that swung around to the west to North Arapaho, and considered trying it. I wanted to climb North Arapaho if possible, especially since it is the highest mountain in the Indian Peaks, just 150 feet higher than where I stood. While I sat in the sunshine in the chilly 35 degree air, I re-read Roach’s route description of the ridge and studied the clouds that were starting to ride in on the breezy wind, and decided to give it a try.
At first the ridge was easy, but I soon encountered a class three step that was rather nerve-racking to scramble up over, and I began to wonder what I was getting into. Allie managed to slip around the step by walking along an edge above a steep snow slope that dropped precipitously away several hundred feet into the basin below. I am always concerned about her propensity to walk up to the brink of such slopes and peer over the edge, in case a cornice gives way, and I had to call her back from approaching such edges several times along this ridge. Soon I came to another serious class three obstacle, a steeply sloping slab with a few patches of ice and snow lurking nearby. At this point I decided that a solo climb of this ridge was too dangerous for myself and my dog in these conditions, and reluctantly elected to turn back and save it for another time. On the return I made it back over the first class three step by sliding slowly downward across a rock on my stomach with my feet dangling in the air until my foot found the pointed tip of a rock below on which to stand. I gladly scrambled back up to summit of South Arapaho and sat there for a while gazing at the surrounding grandeur some more. I thought that I would perhaps return someday to try the ridge to North Arapaho again, but I resolved to have a companion along next time, or at least to do it when the ice and snow were gone. The class three climbing on that ridge seemed a little more difficult than other class three climbing I have done, but perhaps my perception of it was colored by the less than ideal conditions today.
Just before noon I began my descent and headed back down the rocky upper slopes and then hiked down across gentle grassy tundra to rejoin the Arapaho Glacier Trail. The descent back down into the valley was pleasant and easy. I paused several times to absorb the beautiful views of the mountains across the valley, and when I reached the trail junction below I sat down for a leisurely break in the warm afternoon sun.
I continued down the trail back into the woods and paused for a few moments to watch a bubbly cascade of water gurgle down a wide rocky slope below the trail, with the wet rocks glistening like an array of jewels in the afternoon sunlight. When I returned to the trailhead at 2 p.m. I found more than a half dozen cars parked there now. I can only imagine how busy this place might be on a summer weekend.
As I drove home I felt a warm satisfaction about my adventure to explore a new place. Along the road I saw a party of hunters dressed in bright orange eagerly heading off into the woods to pursue their quarry. I had already captured mine that day, I thought, in the photos in my camera and the memories in my mind.
--- “The wilderness takes us out of ourselves and gives us new perspectives. It humbles, awes, and inspires us with its grandeur and beauty.” -- author unknown
