Epic Hike: First Fourteeners - Grays and Torreys
Our goal was to do Grays Peak and Torreys peak, two 14,000ft peaks which are connected by about a mile long "saddle".
Forecasts and looking at the sky first thing in the morning indicated weather would not be on our side, but we decided we had the gear needed to stay warm and we would give it our best anyway.
It's quite a drive getting there, the exit is a bit west of Georgetown off I-70. From the trailhead, it is a hike of about 3.5 miles and a climb of 3,040 feet. Additionally, there is a 3 mile, 1500 ft very rough road that many people have to hike if they have wimpy cars. Luckily, the Frontier handled it well, saving us a lot of effort. It was the first time I've gotten to take the truck in any sort of harsh conditions, and while I was a little nervous, it was very fun and the truck got to flex its muscles and show it's much more than a cushy luxury vehicle.
It's worth noting that the parking lot and trailhead are at the tree line, roughly 11,300ft.
Smart people start the hike early, hit the summit and are back down by noon. We got on trail about at about 11am, and were the only goes going up while everyone else was coming down. We were reading a guide book earlier and found a Golden Rule for hiking that we found quite amusing: always ask yourself "Is what I'm doing right now stupid?" We didn't think so, but several people coming down gave us looks that said otherwise. The puffy white clouds billowing high over the mountain agreed.
Not far into the hike, maybe a mile, those puffy clouds had turned dark and ominous, and the rain began. So we pulled out our water proof stuff from the packs and Ponchoed Up. Well, I had a $5 poncho anyway, which turned out the be the best thing I've bought recenty. So were my water resistant pants, which I only chose because they were on sale. Within about 15 minutes, Tim's entire upper body was soaked, as were heather's legs. I was bone dry except for my feet, which were toasty warm in my fantastic wool socks. Oh the irony, the newbie was best prepared, and somewhat by accident.
We spotted a cave/mine entrance not too far off trail across the tundra and thought that might be a good place to wait, but the rain stopped before we got too far off trail, so we continued on. Somewhere around 12,600 feet, I decided to stop and check my blood sugar (it was 119 I believe, just right). There was plenty of tunder and lightning around, but we weren't worried about it just yet. I took off my hat and jokingly asked if my hair was standing up (because I knew it was, due to the way I was wearing the hat). Tim laughed and then looked at Heather, who looked like she'd been rubbing a balloon on her head all day, her hair standing straight out on end. Is what we're doing right now stupid? Back down the hill we go, as fast as possible. We see a couple lightning strikes, none very close, but a few struck much lower than we were. And then the hail. Pea sized, and coming down heavy. The mountain seemed to have spoken, and said it did not want our company that day.
Further down, just a mile away from the trail head, the clouds parted and the sun burst through. Now, this is a beautiful area anyway, but after rain and hail to clear the air and the sun coming out, it was about the most amazing thing I've ever seen. The mountain was taunting us. We debated for a long time, 15 minutes or so, if we wanted to go up back up or call it a day. As you might have guessed from the title, we weren't about to quit now. Sure we'd back tracked almost the entire trail, and our muscles were already fatigued, and another storm was probably brewing on the other side, but we would not let this mountain win today. WE would be victorious. Is what we're doing right now stupid? We decided there is a fine line between stupid and couragous.
The rest of the way up was much the same as the first time. The closer we got, the more clouds appeared and the darker they got. We cheered as we passed our previous high mark, and made it about 1/4 mile farther, around 12,800. At this point, we could no longer see the peaks. There was no lightning luckily, but a chilly wind and lots of rain was coming in fast.
Feeling quite a bit like Frodo on the side of mount doom, we decided to hunker down behind some rocks, eat, and see if this storm would pass too. Cold and wet (well, I was pretty dry, that poncho is awesome), we declared defeat and turned our backs to the grey void where the summit used to be, and headed back to civilization.
Back at the truck, a gentleman asked us if we'd seen his wife and mother in law up there, who he saw (with binoculars) at the peak at noon, and should have been back by now, 5 hours later. He was their ride and had their 2 year old daughter with him, so he couldn't stay too much longer. Given the weather we'd seen, we were pretty worried for them and promised to call the rangers once we got a cell signal. Thankfully, half way down the road we crossed paths with a vehicle going up, containing the lost hikers. They had gone down the wrong side of the mountain and had to hitch hike their way back.
Lessons learned:
Water proof clothing is the difference between life and freezing to death, even in July.
Go early. The storms move in by noon.
Know your trail in advance. In and out.
Attached is a Google Earth file that shows our hike. Blue = the drive up, Green = try #1, Red = try #2. Thumb tac markers show where we stopped & turned around each time.
