A long day in the Mummies
Of all of the mountain ranges in Colorado, the Mummy Range is by far my favorite. Despite its small size, the Mummies hold all of the characteristics I like; high peaks, easy access, solitude, good fishing, nice campsites and underrated aesthetics...some of the deeper areas are absolutely stunning. And besides the CCY route, all of the other peaks in the range are respectably challenging; even the Signals. I've always liked the range containing Larimer's giants, and if it stays Northern Colorado's best kept secret I'll be just peachy. The Mummies to me is what Gore Range 13ers are to hipsters.
My favorite peak in the whole wide world is by far East Desolation Peak for many of the same reasons the Mummy Range is my favorite. The Desolations aren't that far off from high traffic areas, yet the two inconspicuous peaks are undeniably one of RMNP's forgotten gems. Interestingly, East Desolation is Larimer County's 10th tallest ranked peak and RMNP's 18th yet only had about 25 entries in the register since I left it in late September of 2010, breaking down to about one person per 28 days. In the entire year of 2011 only 10 parties had reached the summit, and to date in 2012 only 5 parties had made it by the time I signed in. Compare that to the hundreds of climbers on Ypsilon Mountain(only 1.2 miles away) each summer, and you have an odd discrepancy. The valleys on either side of the peaks are untouched and wild, and the peaks themselves are primitive blocky gendarmes. Looking across to towering Clark Peak of the Medicine Bows, you'd never believe East Desolation is just two feet shorter, and viewed from the north in comparison to their neighbors, you'd never beleive the two small summits are within 100' of being 13ers. There's so much to the two peaks, they're absolutely worth the effort to climb.
I woke at 4am and reached Chapin Pass TH at 5:30, making good time to treeline I was slowed down by very, very cold winds in the shadows of Chapin and Chiquita(40 degree ambient temperature plus 10mph winds made it feel like a 34 degree coldspell...for several miles). I took the lower trail to the Chapin-Chiquita saddle as always and watched the local herd of elk spar in the willows below before climbing back to the main trail. Climbing up Mount Chiquita is always a pain, and due to the cold I took my time before cutting down to the Chiquita-Ypsilon saddle where I met my first rays of sun for the day, approximately 2.5 hours after sunrise.
At this point I left the climbers trail and gained about 100 feet of elevation on Ypsilon before traversing the west slopes to the Ypslon-12718 saddle. Gaining the 100' does make a difference, without it you'll be traversing through trickly loose boulders en route to the saddle, with the 100' you'll bypass most of it from above. Climbing 12718 and wrapping around the other points on the ridge to the Desolations was much more time consuming than I previously remembered, but after a little break in the col between the ridge proper and the first gendarme to West Desolation, I felt a little more refreshed. Unlike two years ago, I was solo and had a lot more climbing experience so I elected to go straight up W Desolation instead of traversing halfway across and ascending. There were one or two tight moves, but I handled them with ease. After spending a few minutes at the top, I moved on to the east summit.
The route between the two summits takes you through some interesting spires and vertical walls left intact in the formation of the west summit. Scrambling across the large granite slabs was enjoyable, and at the saddle between the summits I was able to get cell reception. Heading up the east summit is more technically difficult; the non-technical way is via a pair of cracks that leads to the summit rocks. What a difference two years will make, before I was(rightfully) worried about the airy, crack-your-head-open-then-slide-several-hundred-feet exposure, but I simply glided right up the chimney to the top. My register had been replaced with a glass jar, but the original paper I had left was still there. Across the valley holding the headwaters of Hague Creek lied the rugged backsides of Hagues and Fairchild. Below me on either side were two pristine blue tarns and sweeping ridges. The views are always amazing, but these are simply spectacular.
Traversing across the side of West Desolation was a nightmare of loose gravel and dirt ready to take you down the bottomless pit below. A climbers trail across the mess is apparent in places, and a few cairns help but for the most part you're making your own path. I triggered several rockslides when the small stones let loose underfoot, including a scary moment when the sizable boulder I was using as a foothold toppled down, snowballing scree and dirt with it on the expressway down to the tarn. Luckily I had one good handhold and the other sketchy one didn't budge, I tried to take a picture of the column of dust I'd unleashed but the wind took it from me. Resting in the col, I decided I was probably better off leaving Flatiron Mountain for another day.
To that point I'd seen a herd of elk, several deer, a bighorn ram on Chiquita, a flock of mottled ptarmigans, boatloads of pikas and a marmot, yet the strangest encounter of the day was when I heard the voices of four people resting along the ridge to the Desolations. Never in a million years would I expect to find other people en route to the Desolations at the same time as me. It turns out we live in a small world, as I spoke to the leader of the group I found out it was his friend who replaced my register on the east summit with a glass jar. Assuming the he made it, that would be his 3rd ascent of Desolation Peaks; I knew there was something about those peaks that drew people back to it.
After reclimbing 12718, my fat ass was pretty tired, enough so that I decided I didn't want to reclimb to the Chiquita-Ypsilon saddle as originally planned. My choice was to descend from the Ypsilon-12718 saddle down to the flat grassy treeline and pick up the small trail I'd ascended by earlier in the morning. Descending was easy enough, and though the hillocks of grass were a pain it was a whole lot better than tripping through talus and boulders high above. Several wet areas along the way slowed me down, but after taking a quick nap in the shadow of a spruce tree I regained the trail and stumbled back the car both victorious and defeated.
My favorite peak in the whole wide world is by far East Desolation Peak for many of the same reasons the Mummy Range is my favorite. The Desolations aren't that far off from high traffic areas, yet the two inconspicuous peaks are undeniably one of RMNP's forgotten gems. Interestingly, East Desolation is Larimer County's 10th tallest ranked peak and RMNP's 18th yet only had about 25 entries in the register since I left it in late September of 2010, breaking down to about one person per 28 days. In the entire year of 2011 only 10 parties had reached the summit, and to date in 2012 only 5 parties had made it by the time I signed in. Compare that to the hundreds of climbers on Ypsilon Mountain(only 1.2 miles away) each summer, and you have an odd discrepancy. The valleys on either side of the peaks are untouched and wild, and the peaks themselves are primitive blocky gendarmes. Looking across to towering Clark Peak of the Medicine Bows, you'd never believe East Desolation is just two feet shorter, and viewed from the north in comparison to their neighbors, you'd never beleive the two small summits are within 100' of being 13ers. There's so much to the two peaks, they're absolutely worth the effort to climb.
I woke at 4am and reached Chapin Pass TH at 5:30, making good time to treeline I was slowed down by very, very cold winds in the shadows of Chapin and Chiquita(40 degree ambient temperature plus 10mph winds made it feel like a 34 degree coldspell...for several miles). I took the lower trail to the Chapin-Chiquita saddle as always and watched the local herd of elk spar in the willows below before climbing back to the main trail. Climbing up Mount Chiquita is always a pain, and due to the cold I took my time before cutting down to the Chiquita-Ypsilon saddle where I met my first rays of sun for the day, approximately 2.5 hours after sunrise.
At this point I left the climbers trail and gained about 100 feet of elevation on Ypsilon before traversing the west slopes to the Ypslon-12718 saddle. Gaining the 100' does make a difference, without it you'll be traversing through trickly loose boulders en route to the saddle, with the 100' you'll bypass most of it from above. Climbing 12718 and wrapping around the other points on the ridge to the Desolations was much more time consuming than I previously remembered, but after a little break in the col between the ridge proper and the first gendarme to West Desolation, I felt a little more refreshed. Unlike two years ago, I was solo and had a lot more climbing experience so I elected to go straight up W Desolation instead of traversing halfway across and ascending. There were one or two tight moves, but I handled them with ease. After spending a few minutes at the top, I moved on to the east summit.
The route between the two summits takes you through some interesting spires and vertical walls left intact in the formation of the west summit. Scrambling across the large granite slabs was enjoyable, and at the saddle between the summits I was able to get cell reception. Heading up the east summit is more technically difficult; the non-technical way is via a pair of cracks that leads to the summit rocks. What a difference two years will make, before I was(rightfully) worried about the airy, crack-your-head-open-then-slide-several-hundred-feet exposure, but I simply glided right up the chimney to the top. My register had been replaced with a glass jar, but the original paper I had left was still there. Across the valley holding the headwaters of Hague Creek lied the rugged backsides of Hagues and Fairchild. Below me on either side were two pristine blue tarns and sweeping ridges. The views are always amazing, but these are simply spectacular.
Traversing across the side of West Desolation was a nightmare of loose gravel and dirt ready to take you down the bottomless pit below. A climbers trail across the mess is apparent in places, and a few cairns help but for the most part you're making your own path. I triggered several rockslides when the small stones let loose underfoot, including a scary moment when the sizable boulder I was using as a foothold toppled down, snowballing scree and dirt with it on the expressway down to the tarn. Luckily I had one good handhold and the other sketchy one didn't budge, I tried to take a picture of the column of dust I'd unleashed but the wind took it from me. Resting in the col, I decided I was probably better off leaving Flatiron Mountain for another day.
To that point I'd seen a herd of elk, several deer, a bighorn ram on Chiquita, a flock of mottled ptarmigans, boatloads of pikas and a marmot, yet the strangest encounter of the day was when I heard the voices of four people resting along the ridge to the Desolations. Never in a million years would I expect to find other people en route to the Desolations at the same time as me. It turns out we live in a small world, as I spoke to the leader of the group I found out it was his friend who replaced my register on the east summit with a glass jar. Assuming the he made it, that would be his 3rd ascent of Desolation Peaks; I knew there was something about those peaks that drew people back to it.
After reclimbing 12718, my fat ass was pretty tired, enough so that I decided I didn't want to reclimb to the Chiquita-Ypsilon saddle as originally planned. My choice was to descend from the Ypsilon-12718 saddle down to the flat grassy treeline and pick up the small trail I'd ascended by earlier in the morning. Descending was easy enough, and though the hillocks of grass were a pain it was a whole lot better than tripping through talus and boulders high above. Several wet areas along the way slowed me down, but after taking a quick nap in the shadow of a spruce tree I regained the trail and stumbled back the car both victorious and defeated.
