Getting Swept Away on the Colorado Trail

The morning sun rose to find me crouched next to a river, wet and cold. 

Hours before, me and Phoenix broke down camp in the Cochetopa Creek valley, and set off up the trail in the middle of the night. It was so cold, my tent remained stiff with powdery snow as I packed it away under the stars. The Milky Way arched overhead, the most clear stars I’d ever seen before. As we hiked out of camp, I had to stop to put on the rest of my layers to stay warm, and Phoenix continued on. A few hours later, I came up on the only major river crossing on the CT… a swift and deep stream about 16 feet across. There was scattered ice on the shore, and I knew that this would be colllllldddd. Testing with my trekking pole, I estimated the creek at three to four feet deep. I stepped into the frigid water as the first signs of dawn touched the sky. The water was so cold, tears streaked my face from the instant sharp pain. Just over halfway across, I slipped and fell mostly under the water. The river wasn’t strong enough to actually sweep me away, but I did end up several further downstream by the time I made it to shore, humiliated and shivering uncontrollably. Quickly and without thinking, I stripped my cold layers off and pulled my stove out of my pack to get warm. I made myself some warm water to drink, and tried to dry my soaking wet base layers over the skimpy flame, to little avail. I felt borderline hypothermic, but I decided my best option was to don my raingear to cut the wind and hike uphill to the sunlight.

The Cochetopa Creek Valley

A mile or two later, I finally caught up to Phoenix, drying her tent in the sun. She watched me walk up in my raingear, hair frozen to my head, toting the rest of my wet clothes strapped to the top of my pack, with a little too obvious mirth. I laid my wet clothes out to dry in the sun, and sat down, rewarding my efforts with some dark chocolate. “Welcome to the San Juans”, I thought to myself, as I sweat out of my rain layers.

Leaving the Colorado Trail

It was the night before, and as the night fell me, Phoenix, and Hitch & Switch were all sitting around a campfire discussing the day ahead. “I want to go for it”, I said. “I know it will be hard, I know that we’ll have to leave the trail, but this is our last chance.” 

“I agree with Maps”, Hitch said, and the others nodded. What we were arguing about was the possibility of doing a 14er, among the tallest mountains in Colorado. This particular 14er, San Luis Peak, is the last summit opportunity SOBO hikers have on the CT, and as I had been forced to skip all of the other 14er opportunities on the trail up to this point, I was dead set on bagging this peak. The Colorado Trail’s official route tops the 12,700 ft pass just below the summit of San Luis, making a quick up and down on a spur trail a popular choice for thru-hikers. However, we wanted to do it differently. So instead, we chose to hike the traditional summit route for San Luis, the Stewart Creek Trail. This trail was beautifully constructed (Thanks, CFI!), and well worth the extra three-ish miles. 

Our alternate (redline is official CT/CDT) © Gaia GPS, © OpenStreetMap contributors

But anyway, back to the story…

Once I had regained my dignity with dry clothes and a normal core temperature (assisted by Nutella and a broken spoon), we hiked the rest of the way to the Eddiesville Trailhead, where we left the CT. The standard route for San Luis brings you up through a classic glacial valley, with plenty of small lakes along the way and several large avy scars. One of these crossed the trail and provided a nice 20-foot-tall jungle gym of tree trunks to climb over. Once above treeline, the views opened up and wildflowers were EVERYWHERE.

San Luis Pk, 14,014 feet, center

Looking back towards Organ Mtn, a centennial 13er

Looking out towards the cow fields I’d come from, I was again struck by just how far I’d come. The Collegiate peaks near Salida and Monarch Pass were only a dark shadow on the horizon. The trail gradually rose up to the ridgetop, where I got my first view of San Luis, rising like a gently sloping back of a monstrous beast. The rock on the mountain was a dark gray, and it stood out from the rest of the green and light gray mountains around it. The sudden views into the rest of the San Juans made my heart race (as if it was possible for my heart to beat any faster than it already was because of the altitude). As I ascended, the wind got stronger and more cutting, but before I knew it, I was standing on the summit.

Near 14K. Phoenix, Hitch & Switch are all behind me here.

Almost to the summit!

The view from the summit of San Luis Peak

It’s probably the only time I’ll get to stand on the summit of a 14er at 4 PM, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so we stayed up on the summit till at least 5:00 before turning with some reluctance back towards the Colorado Trail winding its way across the pass far below.

Heading down from San Luis Peak. The CT is visible far below on the pass.

We set up camp on the pass at nearly 13K feet, and I fell asleep with the last touches of the alpine sunrise filtering through my tent, as the first of the stars looked over the landscape.