Mt. Democrat - Trip Report
Elev. 14,148 Feet
Mosquito Range, Alma Colorado
July 27,
1997
Jonathan D. Fredericks
The route up Platte Gulch to Mt. Democrat’s massive north face is a
scenic journey, whether on foot or skis. This is probably the longest approach
to Democrat, but for those who want to escape the masses at Kite Lake, it is an
excellent choice. For those who are looking for an incredible steep ski
descent, the north face will provide! From the summit, you can ski 2000’
vertical of sustained 40-50 degree snow, and then have a four mile cruise back
to the trailhead. Mt. Democrat has a great ability to catch an enormous amount
of snow during the winter, and then preserve it all summer. Mid-summer ski
descents of 1800-2200’ vertical are not uncommon. I first skied this face
in July 1996 with my good friend Andrew. We did a climb of the northwest ridge
and then skied a hidden couloir on the north face that approaches 55 degrees.
The following trip is from a year later.
My partner and I decided on this route a week before, while doing a ski
descent of Black Mountain in Chihuahua Gulch. Aaron is a patroller at Breck,
and is one of the most stable guys on telemarks. Aaron and I went to the
trailhead at Montgomery Reservoir the previous afternoon, to get an early jump
the next day. The weather had been unsettled, but we had high hopes for clear
morning skies.
From the trailhead, we hiked the Wheeler Lake jeep road up to the Platte
Gulch cabin, about a mile in. The cabin has an incredible view of the majority
of Platte Gulch from its perch high on the rocks. We spent the night here,
cooking up some good food, and reading through the journal entries. The cabin
plays host to a major family of mice, which makes sleep fitful at times.
We had complete plans to awake at a decent hour to begin our climb.
However, when I awoke at 3 am to start getting ready, I realized that the
weather had other plans for us. It was raining lightly outside, and I could see
dark clouds cruising by in the sporadic moonlight. This was not a good time to
begin climbing. Forsaking our early start, we decided to put the trek on hold
until daybreak, when we could assess the weather better.
Daybreak came and went with no improvement in the conditions. We had
spent the whole morning lounging around the cabin, for lack of something more
amusing to do. Around 10 o'clock, we were getting restless when we noticed a
patch of blue in the western sky. Was this thing starting to break up?! We
couldn't be sure yet, but we figured it was a good enough reason to start
making our way towards the mountain.
We mounted up, and began the hike back the jeep road to the head of the
basin. As we hiked the storm seemed to be clearing up, at least in our general
vicinity. The hike back to Democrat takes you gradually up through treeline,
with spectacular views and giant rock outcroppings everywhere. The road
eventually leads to Wheeler Lake, but the route to Democrat cuts off the road
before that. Aaron and I hiked the three mile section relatively fast,
considering we were carrying substantial weight on our backs. The road started
to climb steeply when we caught our first view of Mt. Democrat’s north
face. She was caked with the white, making all the other mountains jealous.
After crossing the creek on the jeep trail, we broke off to follow a
faint jeep track leading off to the southwest toward Democrat’s imposing
north side. This part of the route involves a lot of bushwhacking and a bit of
luck to find the best avenue through the willows. We took a slightly downward
traverse, aiming toward an old mining cabin on the north side of the creek.
There are many game trails in here and it is possible to link them up to make
an efficient traverse. A family of coyotes lives in the neighborhood, and many
deer roam these thickets, which are exciting to see.
Once at the cabin, we took easy ground on up to the base of the north
face. Hiking through this area reveals the remnants of mining cabins that have
been destroyed by past avalanches. Our plan was to ascend the eastern side of
the north face, which leads to the Democrat-Lincoln saddle at about
13,400’. From there we would climb the ridge west to the summit, scramble
down a few feet to snow, and proceed to tear it up on the sweet summer
corn.
The weather several miles off still looked questionable, but in our area
of the range things were looking pretty good. Aaron and myself have a fair
amount of experience at mountain travel and figured we could handle any weather
situation that might come about, especially if that meant turning around. With
this in mind and clear skies overhead, we launched our ascent toward the
saddle, 1000 vertical feet away.
Climbing in this area is pretty straightforward, you just follow the
line of least resistance toward the ridgeline. We clambered up over the large
boulders that make up the lower part of this face. Climbing up to the left of a
large cliff band, I turned around to look at Aaron, who was about 100 feet
below me. Upon turning around, I noticed the first of a series of clouds that
came cruising up the valley in our direction. Platte Gulch is formed in the
shape of a “Y”, with one branch leading to Wheeler Lake, and the
other branch leading into the Democrat basin. Thankfully, none of these initial
clouds drifted up the Democrat side of the “Y”. This was not
completely comforting though, because it meant that we could be expecting
weather at any time.
In spite of this, we continued our efforts toward the ridge, now a short
distance away. As I picked my way up through the cliff bands and talus, I
noticed a large black mass in the skies on the south side of the ridge (the
direct opposite side of what we were climbing). Not knowing how far off this
storm was, or the extent of its size, I felt that I needed a closer look to
better assess the situation.
Aaron was out of view now, but I knew he was only about 150 yards below
me. I saw an old mine shaft about 100 feet away. I began to climb to it, now
just a short distance below the ridgeline. I reached the shaft and took a look
inside through its weathered wood-framed opening. I figured I was about 50
vertical feet from the ridgeline at this point. I could see the blackness on
the other side of the ridge, and knew that having 200cm skis pointing up from
my back was not a good thing. While Aaron was making his way up, I thought I
would drop my pack (skis) and crawl up to the lip of the ridge to peer over and
see what we were dealing with.
As I turned and went to unclip my waistbelt, my body received a violent
jolt followed by the loudest most intense crash of thunder I’ve ever heard
in my life. The electrical charge shot out of my wrist as I held my ski poles
in front of me, touching the ground. I had been struck by lightning!!!
In the second or two after the strike, which seemed like an eternity, I
experienced the most calm and eerie aura in the air. It was as if my body was
frozen in place by the electricity in the air. Adrenaline pumping, I dropped my
pack and sprinted down the 35 degree slope leaping car-sized boulders like they
were puddles. I knew I was still exposed and my greatest fear was getting
nailed again. I tried to stay low as I heard Aaron shouting from below. I
shouted back and kept sprinting. I would’ve given a cheetah a run for his
money.
I quickly made it down to a safe zone in a conglomerate of rock
outcroppings, where Aaron was waiting. Glad to see each other ok, we took
shelter and he looked me over to make sure all of my pieces were intact, and
checked my pulse. Aaron had felt the strike too, from about 150 yards away!
Both bewildered, we sat in the crouch position, reassuring each other that we
were still in the proper world. As we sat, the storm intensified and began to
sock us in. Clouds came screaming up the mountain one after another until we
could barely see 30 feet in front of us. The visibility remained this way for
the next hour and a half. The clouds finally broke, but I still had to deal
with my pack, which was sitting at the mine shaft several hundred feet above
me.
We waited for a period of clear sky, and I reluctantly went for it.
After several minutes of nervous climbing, I reached my pack and wasted no time
grabbing it by the haul loop and dragging it down the boulder field behind me.
I again reached the cliff area, where we hoisted our packs and began to make
our way down the mountain. The weather cleared somewhat on our descent, as we
bushwhacked our way back to the jeep road. Upon reaching the road, we ran into
some other climbers who were speechless when we told them about our event. They
too were contemplating an ascent, but made the right choice to hold back. After
parting with our fellow climbers, we made the easy three mile stroll back to
the trailhead, all the while thinking about how lucky we both were.
The only damage that I suffered from this event was a small burn scar on
my wrist, and a pair of scorched socks! Since this trip I have had several more
successful climbs, and a few unsuccessful ones. I have taken a much more
cautious approach when it comes to the weather, turning around at the first
sign of inclement conditions. The mountains will always be there to climb on
another day!
This article used with permission of the author.
Other Information
Return to
Trip Reports and Route Descriptions |
INFORMATION
