MT. YALE
14,196 ft.
August 29, 1996
By Tim Briese
I headed into the mountains with my friend Bruce under a starry sky at 4:30 a.m. The sun was just beginning to cast its orange light on the high peaks of the Sawatch Range as we neared Buena Vista. A short time later we reached the Denny Creek Trailhead and struck off up the trail under a clear blue sky at 7 a.m. We were quite pleased with our early start, but we noticed in the trailhead register that someone else had started even earlier.
We hiked briskly up the Denny Creek Trail for about a mile until we came to a sign that directed us to the right toward Mt. Yale. This side trail was not as wide or well used as the main one, but it was in excellent shape nonetheless. We climbed steeply up through the timber into a high valley that held tiny Delaney Creek, and then followed the trail to the right as we neared timberline and climbed onto Yale’s broad southwest shoulder.
As we hiked along Bruce and I discussed the accuracy of the stated elevations of mountains, and mulled over the question of whether these numbers are generally accurate within perhaps two, or ten, or twenty feet or more. After musing over this and applying what basic scientific understanding we had of the matter, we surmised that these given numbers are perhaps accurate within five to ten feet of true elevations, whatever a “true” elevation may be defined as.
Shortly after we reached timberline we paused for a break and sat down on a soft spot on the grassy tundra. We admired Hartenstein Lake in the valley below to the west, and Bruce pointed out the Gladstone Ridge across the Cottonwood Creek valley to the south that he had previously climbed while on a hunting expedition. The tundra vegetation around us was coated with a light coat of frost, and was already dried and brown for the most part, having already come to the end of its very short growing season, even though it was still August. Summer is fleeting at this elevation. We had also seen the first hints of fall color already appearing as we hiked up the valley below, perhaps spurred ahead of schedule by dry weather during the summer.
The trail was relentlessly steep above timberline, and we rapidly gained elevation as we hiked along at a vigorous pace. Bruce was one of the most fit climbers I had hiked with this year. We worked our way up through a basin and then ascended a steep slope and gained the crest of Yale’s northwest ridge at about 13,900 feet. We were greeted here by a grand view of Mt. Harvard and Mt. Columbia across Horn Fork Basin to the north. It was especially fun scrambling along the rocky crest of this class two ridge on the final quarter of a mile to the summit.
We reached the summit about 10:30 and gazed about at the splendor surrounding us as we sat and rested. Mt. Princeton was quite an impressive sight about eight miles to the southeast. There was no one else on the summit when we arrived, but other climbers were coming up the ridge and soon joined us. It was pleasant and calm on top, with a few white clouds beginning to puff up in an otherwise clear sky. It was exhilarating being on the summit, looking about at the grandeur of Creation on this beautiful morning.
At about 11:00 we left the top and headed back down the enjoyable ridge and the slopes below. We descended quickly, and only stopped briefly a couple of times to rest our weary knees after burning down the relentlessly steep grades. We were soon back in the timbered valley, and I stopped to rinse my face and arms in the cold, refreshing water of Denny Creek.
The late summer sun was shining brightly as we returned to the trailhead about 1 p.m. and headed for home. It certainly felt good to sit down and rest in the car, for it had been a vigorous climb entailing over 4000 feet of elevation gain in a roundtrip time of only six hours. Few 14er trails require as much gain per mile as this one, but nevertheless it was an enjoyable and straightforward climb to a fine summit.
