131 | Castlewood Canyon State Park, Colorado

Yesterday, I checked out Castlewood Canyon State Park located near Franktown, and below are a few select pictures along the 3.5-mile hike. To view the complete gallery, please click here.

130 | Chatfield and Barr Lake State Parks, Colorado

Having recently purchased a Colorado State Parks Pass, I am now determined to visit all forty-two parks before a year expires and get the most out of the $60 negligible fee. With a puppy in tow and an obsessive photography hobby, it really shouldn't be all that difficult to accomplish.

On Sunday, Chatfield Park was the destination and minus the absolute ghettoness of it all (apologies to those that hold this place dearly, but it was a total shitshow in every essence of the word), I was able to capture a couple solid photos. To followup, Barr Lake provided some excellent lighting last night before the deeply oranged sun dipped behind Rocky Mountain National Park to the west.

These trips allowed me to become better acquainted with the Nikon WC-E75 wide angle lens as well as the Kenko Pro1 Digital Circular Polarizer, both an excellent compliment to the Canon G10. To view the collection of Barr Lake photos, please click here. For Chatfield, click here.

129 | North Face Couloir . Mount Evans | 20 Jun 2009

Yesterday, I joined one of my usual partners-in-crime for the easiest descent possible down a Colorado 14er. With Mount Evans Highway open all the way to the top, we effectively exited our car (complete with chauffeur) and were a short 507-foot-long walk from the 14,264' summit. I've had some great days with JJ, notably an unseasonal slaying of No Name Peak near Berthoud Pass in mid-January as well as one of the sickest powder days of the year at Monarch Mountain where a modest ten-inch report of new snow surprisingly turned into over two feet of awesomeness. With the good comes the bad, and those perfect backcountry days wouldn't be as appreciative if not for those long treks out into the unexpected where you return home without victory; such was the case experienced with JJ on our mid-March trip to James Peak.

Knowing the overnight freeze at the top of Mount Evans would be minimal and with the desire to photograph nature's alarm clock, we appropriately left the Denver area around five in the morning and ultimately reached the summit shortly after 7am with some minor delays. What we didn't know was that an incredibly dense fog (or low-lying clouds) would inhabit the top portion of the mountain. Additionally, winds were gusting close to 30mph, but it was the complete lack of visibility that caused me to be separated from JJ for close to 45 minutes before finding each other with just enough time to spare for a safe and enjoyable descent down the north face couloir. To note, my pack always has a whistle attached to it but I was using a new one yesterday and forgot to make the transfer. We were also using radios, but I kept one while the other was left for Nancy who wasn't skiing.

There's a trip report posted on 14ers.com that offers a better view of what we skied given the weather conditions for us to be very sub par. To view all the pictures posted below plus a few additional ones in larger size, please click here.



After being reunited, we quickly strapped into our skis and began our descent. The top hundred feet of the couloir was barely six feet wide which led us to sidestep down before entering the larger section where I'm seen here:





A few turns later, I eventually disappear into an abyss:







Along the way, there was no shortage of rocks to dodge as JJ shows here:





As alluded to, battling the clouds would be an issue with visibility less than fifty feet at times:







Pretty soon, the terrain opened up, and with less convection from rocks, the snow transformed from considerably slushy in the upper section to a more sustainable just-past-prime corn:







We effectively skied down near Summit Lake with a short downclimb of some twenty feet in the middle of the lower section:





JJ crossing Bear Creek:





Our route down is seen in the picture below on the far left side where a "T" formation is made:





Birmy also joined us on this trip for his first time on snow:







Skiing close to 1,400 feet of continuous snow the day before summer officially begins with not much effort at all is never be a bad thing:

128 | Vinyl in Motion

Two days I ago, I received the Nikon WC-E75 wide angle lens for the Canon G10 which brings the focal length down from 28mm to 21mm. Not having a chance to explore its capabilities outside yet, I opted for a slightly more creative route in seeing what the G10 could capture if I focus it through the front end of the E75. Below are the results (click on the images to view in larger size).

126 | Y Couloir . Ypsilon Mountain . RMNP | 5-6 Jun 2009

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.