6/28/97 - Mount Lady Washington, Rocky Mountain National Park,
Colorado
 Class 1, 2 & 3 Hiking,
Elevation at Mt. Lady Washington, 13,281 ft (3,881 foot gain); ~6.5 miles
each way (from Longs Peak Area TH using western approach to summit)
Mt Lady Washington is at N40 15 48 & W105 36 24 (dd.mm.ss)
Hikers:
Mount Lady Washington was one of several hikes I'd planned as
part of my training to do Longs Peak this summer. It's a bit over 2/3 the distance to
Longs and over 3/4 the elevation gain.
It is thought that Mt. Lady Washington was named by Anna Dickinson, who had often (26
times!) climbed Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. Ralph Meeker may have proposed the
"Lady" part as a tribute to her.
Taking on this hike was a bit iffy from a time point of view -- we were
supposed to have dinner with the Steiners
in Allenspark at 6pm, and after much map study, I was sure we would be back in
plenty of time for me to get cleaned up to go.
With that in mind, Ernie picked me up a bit after 6:30am and we headed up to the Longs
Peak Area parking and trailhead. At about 7:00am on a Saturday, the lot was at least 3/4
full, so we had no trouble parking. I suspect that once the nontechnical/Keyhole route to
Longs is open (sometime in July?), that 7:00am would find this lot completely full and
overflowing onto the access road going back to Highway 7.
After a quick inventory of our equipment, I left my water filter in the car since Ernie
had brought his. For the length of this hike we much preferred the weight of only a liter
of water each and a filter rather than carry the almost 3 liters each we ended up
drinking.
We signed into the register at the beginning of the trail and were on our way at about
7:10am with very pleasant shorts and shirtsleeve temps in the mid to high 50s (F).
We started up the trail at a fairly brisk pace and passed quite a few people. Stopped
to talk to one guy from Aurora who was headed up to Chasm Lake, but (he) seemed doubtful
of his ability. We encouraged him to take it slowly and assured him that if he felt OK,
Chasm was well worth the effort.
We found ourselves at the Alpine Brook bridge before we expected it, and we paused for
a couple of pictures. Below treeline, the mosquitoes were out and apparently hungry.
We saw a small guy going down with an enormous pack that must have weighed 50-60lbs. He
was using trekking poles and was hunched over and looked pretty beat. Ernie spoke to him
and learned that he'd just done a solo climb of the Diamond!
We were making very good time on this stretch of the trail -- my altimeter told us we
were ascending at the rate of over 1200 ft/hour.
Shortly after we got above treeline, we heard, then saw a helicopter heading south. We
thought it was heading over Meeker, but we were somewhat stunned to realize that it was
below the summit -- it circled and headed down into the area around Chasm Lake. We
immediately concluded that someone was getting rescued, a fairly common occurrence in the
Longs Peak area. But when the chopper came out, it had a bundle of something suspended
under it, so we didn't think it was a rescue after all, but still didn't know what was
going on.
Well above treeline, we reached the trail junction for Chasm Lake and we took a break
and ate a Clif Bar. Saw lots of hikers headed to Chasm, many of them with ice axes and
crampons. I'd felt a couple of not-quite-ominous twinges in my left knee so I gulped down
a few Ibuprofen. Also took a potty break at the privy and almost tripped and fell on the
way. Wouldn't that make a great story -- "yeah, I tripped and broke my ankle walking
to the privy."
We then started up the Longs Peak trail, with noticeably fewer people on it. We had
deliberately planned to go around Lady Washington to approach it from the less steep west
side, even though it meant some extra hiking. The east approach is much steeper with much
larger boulders to overcome.
We started watching for a meltoff stream to top off our water before we went any
higher. After finding a suitable stream, we filtered/refilled and continued on the trail.
At this elevation, the trail often had small streams flowing in it, but nothing serious
(i.e., higher than our boots). In a couple of places we had to cross some minor snowfields
on the trail, so I unstrapped my trekking poles. Ernie took one and I took the other.
At around 11:30 we stopped to talk to a guy who'd been climbing on the north face of
Longs, and while we were talking, a couple of guys walked up and one of them asked if I
was Mike Molloy. It was Mike Dallin and his hiking buddy R.C. Mike is the webmaster of the
excellent "Unofficial" Rocky Mountain
National Park site, and though I'd never met him, we'd become "virtual
friends" via email.
The day before, I'd invited Mike to accompany us to Lady Washington, but they already
had firm plans to go up Storm Peak. They started about 45 minutes after we did, but
somehow caught up with us on the trail, not too far below the Boulderfield. We stopped to
take in the views, talk for a bit, and take some pictures.
During this stop with Mike and R.C., the helicopter we'd seen earlier made another run
and Mike explained that "they" (Park Service? Division of Wildlife?) were
removing "non-indigenous" mountain goats
from the area (we have bighorn sheep, moose, deer and elk in the RMNP area, but not
mountain goats).
Ernie, a 3rd generation Estes Park resident and a man with uncommonly high levels of
common sense, observed, "If they found their way here from wherever they were, then
they are indigenous!" He was understandably disturbed by the fact
that the taxpayers had to pay for several helicopter rides for animals and people just
because someone decided these animals somehow didn't belong here. Ernie is not a big fan
of this sort of "wildlife management."
I was treated to a number of outbursts on this topic during the remainder of the day's
hike. Later, while descending, we stopped and I made a comment about how desolate
everything looked. Ernie replied sarcastically, "Yeah, good thing they removed all
the non-indigenous wildlife."
Wish I'd taken a picture of Ernie with the foam around his mouth. :-)
We all hiked on the trail together a ways before Ernie and I split off to start our
ascent of Lady Washington. We said we would try to spot each other on our summits and
wave! It was really great to finally meet Mike after almost two years of "only"
emailing.
At this point, Ernie and I left the trail and began to rockhop across/up the tundra on
a track toward the summit of Lady Washington.
Soon we were thick into large rocks strewn all over slope of the mountain and we had to
plot a few steps ahead all the time. Sometimes we had to use our hands to scramble in
addition to using the trekking pole to augment our balance. About half the time I felt I
would have been better off without the pole, and the other half, I was glad to have it.
About half way up, we stopped to take a break and ate an abbreviated lunch and put on a
layer (the wind was picking up a bit).
We must have seen 30 different varieties of wildflowers blooming in the tundra.
Gorgeous.
After about 30 more minutes of scrambling we crested what we thought was the summit,
but it turned out to be the false summit just to the west of the real summit.
We paused a few minutes to take in the breathtaking views of Longs Peak, the entire
Diamond, Lamb's Slide, Meeker, and Chasm Lake, over 1500 feet below us. We watched two
climbers edge out onto Lamb Slide and cautiously make their way straight down the 60º+
(steepness) snow-covered slope.
We were also able to see several climbers going up the sheer vertical wall of the
Diamond. Even with 10x binoculars, they still looked like tiny ants crawling up the rock.
Those human figures were the only thing which truly demonstrated just how large Longs is.
After a few minutes, we had to make our way down maybe 100ft only to regain that and a
bit more to crest the actual summit. As we started, I heard something that sounded like
distant thunder, and I began to ask Ernie what it was. He made a "be quiet"
signal and we listened to more of it. After it stopped, he told me it was the sound of a
rock slide somewhere on Longs or Meeker. I shivered slightly, thinking about how those
guys on Lamb Slide would feel about hearing a rock slide from their position.
We resumed the short trek to the real summit and almost as soon we got there, I noticed
the summit register (a capped pipe on a steel cable attached to the rock) placed there by
the Colorado Mountain Club. After a few
minutes of taking in the breathtaking views from the summit, we sat down to sign the
register.
We then ate lunch -- Ernie finishing off the last of his wheat bread sandwich with
peanut butter, oatmeal, honey, apple and pear; and me eating cold pizza leftover from the
night before. Ernie's sandwich was, well, interesting (not bad), but that pizza sure
tasted good.
I also did something else fun. Before I left our house (from which we can see Longs and
Lady Washington) I pointed my telescope at the summit (about 10.5 miles away; used 48
power). On the summit, I called Bobbea using the cellular phone and she went to the
telescope to try to see us. It was too far to "see us," but she did see
something moving when Ernie and I jumped and moved around. Too bad we didn't have a dayglo
orange tarp or something. A signal mirror would have been fun, too (maybe an AOL CD?).
"Wow," became a vastly overused word during our stay on the summit. After a
few more photos and jaw-dropping looks at climbers on the Diamond we started down.
Again, we picked our way down the rocks to get off the mountain. Ernie and I both felt
that the trekking pole(s) were even more valuable going down. Plant the pole well below
you, then step down, putting weight on your arm and the pole. It also vastly improved
balance -- have you ever tightroped your way across a log or rock and found that if you
could even grasp a small tree branch that you could retain your balance? The trekking pole
gives you that kind of stability, balance and confidence to make your next move. Even on
the trail, the pole(s) help relieve stress on your knees, give your arms and upper body a
workout, and help keep your hands from bloating up.
As we hopped down among some larger rocks, Ernie stepped off a larger one, perhaps
500lbs, which then slid down and crashed on one a few feet below. We went back to it and
saw a white powdery marking where they rubbed together and you could smell a kind of burnt
smell caused by the friction of them rubbing together.
Once back down on the trail, we made good time. And we needed to, because I could now
see that we might not make it back to my house until about 5:00pm, almost an hour and a
half after my projected time, and late enough to make Bobbea, who is strictly punctual
about dinner invitations, very nervous. It didn't help her peace of mind that I have a
very bad reputation for misjudging how long a hike will take.
As we came down, I was amazed to discover that I really felt great! Though we did
fairly serious hiking and exertion at and above 13,000 feet, I felt no undue tiredness or
altitude sickness, and had good (no, great) appetite! Better still, my knees were
performing above and beyond the call of duty, giving me sound reason to believe they might
make it down from Longs (I know they would make it up). Yay!
We got back to the car at about 4:45pm, threw our stuff in and headed for
town. Ernie dropped me off a
little after 5:00pm, I called the Steiners to tell them we might be a few minutes late, I
jumped in the shower, and finished getting ready. We were only 6 minutes late. :-)
As I'm often fond of saying, "Life doesn't get much better than this unless you're
in a beer commercial."
Lessons learned:
Don't plan a 13 mile hike on the same day you have a dinner engagement
at 6:00pm. Duh.
6/29/97. Just a postscript on what I now must refer to as Ernie's Rant. :-)
After finishing my trip report, Ernie sent
me these comments:
"... and my attitudes towards
management of wilderness. It's a real oxymoron, "managed wilderness." How can
you have managed wilderness??
I.e., flying tranquilized animals around
from location to location with helicopters... Wow, what a wilderness? Doesn't wilderness
mean or imply, "untouched by man?" Isn't that in the primary thesis of the
RMNP?"
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The waterfall and Alpine Brook bridge. That big sign tells people to stay off the alpine
tundra, but it seems to ruin photographs, too.
The privy and view to the plains from the trail junction for Chasm Lake and Longs Peak.
Peacock Pool and Mt. Meeker as seen from the Chasm Lake trail junction.
Lady Washington's summit (left foreground) as seen just at the start of our approach.
Ernie, Mike Dallin, and R.C. near where we went our separate ways (they went on to Storm
Peak). The hump at far left is Lady Washington. Longs Peak (14,256') is at center.
Lady Washington's summit as seen from the false summit.
Mike with the Longs Peak Diamond in the background (about 0.6 miles away).
Lamb's Slide. Do you see the howling coyote (look to
the upper left)?
Ernie with Longs Peak in the background. Does everyone see the outline of the beaver
crawling up to the summit (from left to right)? This unusual and highly distinctive
feature was (some say first) described in James Michener's book, Centennial.
Looking down at Chasm Lake, ~1500' below us.
Storm Peak at left foreground. The Never Summer Range is just to the right of Storm Peak,
in the far background.
The Mummy Range.
Ernie perched on a rock just below the Lady Washington summit, taking in the views.
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