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Quandary Peak 14265' - 1987 Trip ReportBy Alan Silverstein Sunday, June 21: Quandary Peak, 14265'
I climbed Quandary Peak for the second time. It's a relatively
easy Fourteener in the Mosquito Range, a bit southwest of
Breckenridge and northwest of Hoosier Pass. Just to make it
challenging, I climbed the mountain at night and was on top to
watch the sunrise...
The previous afternoon I drove down, pausing at the Breckenridge
Inn just as Paul and Carolyn Beiser checked in. I elected to
continue down to the mountain that evening despite marginal
weather. By 1730 I was on the road along the base of the
mountain. It's a dirt road that heads west from Colorado 9 a
couple of miles north of Hoosier Pass. The road is rough but
passable by cars along Monte Cristo Creek, all the way to upper
Blue Lake (a reservoir above a dam) at about 11760'.
As the weather still looked ugly, I forewent my plan of climbing
the mountain that evening and camping high on its ridge.
Instead I explored around the valley. There are several old
mining buildings precariously perched in the most amazing places
high up on steep slopes above cliffs.
I decked out by my car on a flat pull-off north of the road at
about 11160'. Had dinner, and watched clouds follow clearings
across the sky from the west. Sunset was marvelous. I could
tell from the sun on the peaks to the east that the skies were
clear behind the pink clouds overhead.
At about 0030 I woke up after half a night's sleep. The night
sky was dark, moonless, clear, and full of stars. At this point
I had to make a tough decision... Get a good night's sleep and
climb with the Beisers in the morning, or do something
"completely different" and head up the mountain for sunrise? I
chose the latter.
At 0115 I headed north from camp up a steep, tree and brush
covered hillside, using a headlamp. I must have not been "all
there" cause I put in one of the batteries backwards... Well,
they lasted a couple of hours anyway.
Climbing at night isn't that tough as long as you're careful and
know where you are going. I could only see 50-100' ahead with
the light, but that was enough to pick out a passable route up
firm talus and on narrow paths through brush. Generally I
headed right to avoid the steeper gullies further west. I could
see the main ridge as I climbed, and reached it at 0215.
The rest of the route west to the summit follows the ridge, with
a decent trail most of the way up. I could see lights in the
distance, and occasional cars going over Hoosier Pass. The
surrounding mountains were giant, dark, silent monoliths.
Quandary itself rose to infinity ahead, to meet the stars. Most
people would find it eerie and scary being up there in the
darkness... I was exhilarated.
I came across the ridge trail. I discovered I could follow it
without a light for a hundred feet at a time, before losing and
having to search for it. During occasional breaks I got pretty
cold and had to add layers of clothing. But thanks to catching
some sleep earlier I was reasonably awake, unlike several years
ago when I climbed Longs Peak at night and wanted to collapse at
every break.
I plodded up the ridge from 12100' to 13100' to the summit at
14265'. There were occasional shooting stars. The Milky Way
stretched overhead like a cloud. The waning crescent moon rose
along with Jupiter at about 0215. It added enough light to cast
a shadow and to help me keep on the trail without my fading
headlamp. (Of course I had three extra flashlights along...
small ones... but I didn't even need them.)
At 0435 I gained frozen snow just below the summit and followed
the tracks up it to the top. The entire summit ridge was still
covered by a steep-sided wall of snow about four feet deep.
This was quite unexpected -- the first time I climbed Quandary,
on June 23, 1979, the summit was clear.
So I found myself on top, alone, an hour before sunrise, with
the sky brightening to the east. It was cold, of course, about
28 degrees F. an hour later at sunrise, with stiff breezes. It
was also magnificent and peaceful. An unimaginable intensity of
peace and silence. Waiting for sunrise, I took pictures. I
wrote a short bit of prose, more special to me than any trip
report, but I'm too shy to share it (believe it or not).
There are no words to capture the experience of a brilliant
daybreak on top of a mountain. The many pictures I took
probably won't do it justice either. Three things stand out in
my memory...
- The extreme slowness of the whole event. The palpable,
massive inertia of the world turning.
- The shadow of the earth itself, crimson above ermine, a sharp
line slowly dropping to meet the snow-covered Sawatch Range
peaks. Suddenly they all became pink.
- The shadow of the mountain I was on, stretching conical thirty
miles or more across the Mosquito Range and Arkansas Valley.
I roamed around the summit and down the ridge a ways west to
some increasingly-technical 14000' pinnacles. Started to get
warm... Thanks to the night climb, for once I had copious free
time on top, a rare treat. Using a page from my heading and
distance charts book, I spent over an hour studying the horizon
with binoculars. Identified 32 other Fourteeners, including
Longs Peak and Pikes Peak, both about 68 miles away.
But the real surprise was spotting Humboldt and the Crestone
Peaks in the Sangre de Cristo Range. Turns out they are 103
miles south-east! That is far and away the farthest I've
identified any features from on top of a mountain. So far away
that their local vertical is about 1.5 degrees off that at
Quandary, due to the curve of the earth!
Other people started arriving around 0820. Paul and Carolyn
reached the top about 0900. There was quite a crowd. At 1005
we three took our leave and dropped over the south side.
We looked for and found the famous glissade route down the south
couloir. To our disappointment, probably due to the warm spring
weather and copious rain, there was surprisingly little snow in
the gully. Eight years ago Scott Wang and I rode down from just
a bit below the summit, without even using ice axes. This time
we did a lot of careful downclimbing on steep and rotten rock,
skirting the dirty and frozen snow. (It doesn't look like a
good summer for glissading.)
Halfway down we started to pick up acceptable stretches of snow
to ride, carefully avoiding rocks. We found ourselves at the
Blue Lake dam at 1135, took a break, and hiked down the road and
back to our cars at 1215.
My time to the summit wasn't great... 3:25 for 3105'. I
attribute that to being out of shape, carrying a heavy pack, and
climbing at night. I got to spend 5:25 on the summit, though.
Our descent only took 2:10.
Used here with permission of the author. Editorial Note: The author was already familiar with this climb. Even so, I myself would not have climbed a peak at night by myself. I have done a couple of night climbs with friends and they are quite an experience. Usually everyone is dead tired and complaining about whoever talked them into doing it. A few days later everyone is asking which peak is next for a night climb. My criteria for a good night climb is a peak with a maintained trail to the summit and a night with a nearly full moon. A warning about Quandry. The descent described here can be very dangerous. There are some cliffs with snowfields above them on the south face. A CMC member in the early 80's went down this face alone, onto one of these snowfields, slid over a cliff and was killed. The general rule of thumb that applies here is to never go onto a snowfield that you cannot see all the way down unless you have climbed up it. Keith Jensen Other Information
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