126 | Y Couloir . Ypsilon Mountain . RMNP

As hard as it may be to imagine, my eyes yet shed any tears when faced with physical pain. The closest I ever came to reaching such a threshold took place in the early afternoon on June 6th, 2009 while returning on the back leg of a nine-mile roundtrip in the northern part of Rocky Mountain National Park.

As technology advances exponentially every fraction of a second, so do our abilities to reach further distances. And with that, one can only envision the determination and drive that our predecessors endured as challengers in being the pioneers that they were.

Any perceived struggle today was ultimately intensified ten-fold many years ago. No shortcuts existed and nor did the aid of Google Earth that offered a more in-depth approach to tackling the more difficult mountains.

That is how I discovered Ypsilon Mountain nearly twelve months ago, and that is how I discovered the ever so prominent devil masked deep within: the left branch of the Y Couloir. It has been a goal to climb and make a successful ski descent down to Spectacle Lake, but unfortunately, this tale will end without such luck.



Forrest and I began our journey at 8,500 feet, which put us exactly six miles and five-thousand feet away from our mission. For the topo map, please click here.





The majority of the hike was very straight-forward and novice with Ypsilon Mountain in complete view just one mile in as we crossed the Roaring River:





Our comfort level was surely tested as Forrest eagerly demonstrates:





After a quick two hours, we reached Chipmunk lake at the four-mile mark and had a closer view of the mountains from 10,600 feet:


(photo by Forrest)





Abruptly, the honeymoon ended as we postholed up to our knees for the last half mile to Ypsilon Lake while carry over sixty pounds of gear strapped conveniently to our backs. Because our elevation was low and we were hiking in the dead of day, no such firm layer of snow existed to help us along the bushwack. It was also at this juncture that the dry hiking trail became winteresque and invisible.



Eventually, we set up camp and took a particular liking to our surroundings:


(photo by Forrest)





With 3,000 more feet to climb in order to reach the summit of Ypsilon, we had a long day ahead of us. Time would be an issue as temperatures were expected to rise close to 40-degrees, even above 13,000'. Accordingly, we decided on a 4:30am wakeup which ultimately proved to be forty-five minutes too late.



Below shows the route we climbed that takes us from Ypsilon Lake to Spectacle Lake. Our path was on the far right side of the major snow patch you see in the middle. The right branch of the Y Couloir hovers over proudly in the background.





Long's Peak is easily visible along the way up:





About two-hundred feet from Spectacle Lake, I reached a bridge in our trip that couldn't be crossed. I had just ascended up the wet terrain you see in the picture below which was followed by steeper and more technical climbing. My ski boots were already challenged by wet, rocky surfaces, and I was neither comfortable nor prepared for a second wave.


(photo by Forrest)



Interestingly, I had more than a few dreams throughout the previous night that hinted towards disaster on this trip. Premonition or not, I was shaken up by a near fall and decided to bail on going forward. Determined, Forrest continued:







At about 7:30am, Forrest found himself at the far end of Spectacle Lake with the Y Couloir staring through his eyes and the Four Aces keeping watch from the right:








(photos by Forrest)



An hour later, Forrest was halfway up the 1,800 couloir before stopping himself from ascending higher as the snow was softening up beyond safe levels. While obviously dejected, the ride down was not all too pleasant:


(photo by Forrest)



Aside from very chunky snow that filled the lower portion of the couloir, 4-8' deep runnels provided additional and unnecessary variables to the equation:


(photo by Forrest)



The picture below shows his route with the ascent marked in red and the descent in green:


(photo by Forrest)



After returning, we quickly packed up and returned to the parking lot off Fall River Road. It's no easy task carrying as much weight as we were, but it's even worse when your pack is far from being able to handle such a load and you have a blister that has already ripped off a large section of skin from your heel. As alluded to, the discomfort I was experiencing (aided by the horribly-cushioned Mountain Attack 45+10 from Lowe Alpine) caused as much pain as I've ever dealt with. An easy four-mile hike downhill along a dry trail seemed to have no ending in sight with each step forward bringing a knife-life pain through every contact point on my shoulders.

Adding injury to insult, we ran into two other skiers that descended the left branch of the Y Couloir shortly after Forrest made his way down, only they had accessed it from the west while starting from Chapin Pass at 11,000'. In further suggesting that you should climb what you ski, the two informed us that had the first climbed the couloir and saw how bad of a condition it was in, that they would have bagged the trip without attempting.

Regardless, it's highly probably that neither Forrest or I will return to make a ski attempt off the same peak that was first descended by John Harlin III and Jimmy Katz back in 1984. It's obviously a downer not to achieve something you had looked so forward to completing, but it's a much better feeling being able to try it again.



Looking back at a beauty:




Please click here to view more pictures and in larger size. For Forrest's photographs, please visit his website at www.forrestthorniley.com.