Ni-Chebe-Chii Part 6- The last lake in RMNP!

The Never Summer Mountains, called Ni-Chebe-Chii (literally never-no-summer) by the Arapahoe, are simply one of my favorite places in RMNP.  The very nature of the terrain makes movement difficult, but the peaks are extremely fun to visit.  This day marked my sixth (previous: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5) outing to the area, and though I was motivated for a longer day, the weather didn't cooperate and in the end, I just wasn't feeling it.  

Unfortunately, I didn't sleep well the night before, tossing and turning for a fitful maximum of three hours of "sleep".  I woke up to the alarm wondering if I'd actually even gotten to sleep or not.  It certainly didn't feel like it.  Yet, the promise of a long day in that place kept motivation high.  

I noticed on the drive over Trail Ridge Road how windy it was, much more so than predicted.  I entertained ideas about going elsewhere, but things seemed to have calmed down quite a bit by the time I got to the trailhead.  

I started from the Colorado River Trailhead at 5:28 am.  I have hiked the Red Mountain Trail several times now, and knew I could make pretty good time on it.  I arrived at Grand Ditch one hour and six minutes later.  From here, I decided to head south to the Valley View campsite, and start up from there.  That way I could keep my feet dry on the ditch crossing!  

This route worked pretty well, with some bushwhacking over and around dead fall. 

I reached a rocky clearing, a good but short representation as to what the rest of the day would be like.  In this photo, the lake is just beyond the rise past the trees. 
I made my way up and up, and soon enough I was there!

Pinnacle Pool, 11300 feet, and the last of 141 named bodies of water in RMNP for me to visit. 

Some great views! 
While I know many focus on peaks, and usually those within a certain elevation range, I really must opine that visiting all of these lakes has been a tremendously worthwhile effort!  I'd say the approach to some of them has been equal to if not more difficult than the approach to some of the peaks, with longer distances involved, and at times, more elevation gain.  While this one might not be on that list of the most difficult, there still isn't a trail to it, and good navigation skills are needed. 

Another look at Pinnacle Pool.  From here, my plan was to head up the valley and find a route to gain the summit of Howard Mountain.  Easier said than done.

The loose rock started right on the far side of the lake.  While I don't have a good photo of it due to the sun, from above, the rock looked almost like it was flowing downhill like a glacier.  In this area, I would encounter some of the most unstable terrain I've ever found, nearly resulting in injury.

Pinnacle Pool from above.  It looks tiny.

My plan was to make it up to the ridge on the right.  At first it seemed like a good idea to do this asap, but the distinct point looked like it would offer some difficult climbing, so I aimed to join the ridge after that.
But along the way, I was going up a rocky slope, and felt something move underneath me.  Not the thing I was standing on, but something deeper under that.  In short, I had about a ten foot circle of loose rock that I was directly in the middle of shift and move down about 8 inches.  I was terrified!  I quickly exited right before the movement even stopped.  Phew!  I resolved to be more vigilant as I continued upwards, but it's not like you can predict those things. 
And once again, as I neared the ridge, I had a sizeable rock move and fall on my left foot.  Fortunately I was able to extricate it, and despite a hard hit and my initial feeling, my toes were not broken! 
I bring these two incidents up to illustrate the nature of the terrain here.  What if I had gotten caught in rockfall the first time?  What if my foot had gotten stuck the second?  In either case, help would be a long time coming.  Thus, I'd suggest avoiding this area altogether.  There are better ways to get to Howard Mountain.  If you do go up this way, and are with a partner, make sure to spread out.

Finally safe on the ridge, Lake of the Clouds and peaks.

Some of the loose rock en route to Howard Mountain.  Though there was almost a trail put in here, and route finding was easy and stableish for the most part.

Looking south from the summit of Howard Mountain. 

And looking north, where I was planning to go.  Unfortunately, as soon as I left the leeward side of the peak, I was full on exposed to a ripping wind.  I headed down to Mount Cirrus, but found myself having difficulty walking in a straight line.  I was stumbling like the village drunkard in an early Irish novel!

Looking back to Howard.  As I made my way up Cirrus, I was already thinking I should maybe call it a day and go for something else.  I was thinking ahead to the exposed fourth class traverse between Lead and Tepee Mountains.  Already heady and dangerous, what if a gust of wind happened to hit right when I made the short leap of faith? 
For now, I continued on.  The route between Cirrus and Hart Ridge looks improbable, but there is a thin trail through the loose gravel that makes up the summit area.  Loose gravel...  sounds familiar!  At least if a piece fell on my foot, it didn't hurt! 

The terrain gets more solid as you move north, and head up and down the various bumps of the ridge.  The true summit of the ridge is on the last bump encountered before you drop down and make up some elevation to Lead Mountain.

Looking out to Never Summer Peak from near Lead Mountain.

From the summit of Lead Mountain, I looked down the fun and exposed third class east ridge to Never Summer Peak.  I'd come up this before, but hadn't gone down it.  Without crossing the fourth class terrain to the north, this was my only bail option. 
But I decided to see if the wind felt any better, and kept north.  It actually felt pretty reasonable at the summit of Lead.

Looking back to Lead Mountain and Never Summer Peak, here on the left.

I was starting down the fourth class ridge, and right at the top, when I was hit by a tremendous gust of wind that not only gave me pause, but instantly chilled me to the bone despite wearing every piece of clothing I'd brought along.  I wanted to go on, yes, but I made the call here.  I didn't feel like it was safe.  I found a small spot on the leeward side of the ridge and warmed myself in the sun.  I sat here for almost an hour, waiting for the wind to die down.  But it didn't.  Back to Lead Mountain it was.

Never Summer Peak and Lead Mountain from that small place of respite on the Lead-Tepee ridge. 
Back at the summit of Lead, I took a sizeable break to relax in the sun once again.  I felt fine to climb the third class ridge down, because it would be out of the wind.  As I said above, I've gone up the ridge before, taking the path of least resistance.  For this descent, I decided to stay directly on the ridge as much as possible, which turned out to be for almost all of it.

The rock here is solid: the only things that move do so because of their smaller size.  It was a very fun climb! 
At the saddle between Lead and Never Summer, I had decided to head down to the south.  But this looked like it would cover some more loose terrain, albeit that filled with smaller rocks that the drainage south of Howard.  Or maybe a little redemption for cutting the day short- Never Summer Peak is only a bit over 400 feet of gain from this saddle, and the terrain on the other side was known to me to be more solid and grassy... 

Looking from Never Summer Peak to Lead Mountain. 

And to Mount Cirrus and Howard Mountain in the background.
The descent here is actually pleasant, mostly on tundra and through some well animal trailed forest lower down.  Soon enough I was in Hitchens Gulch, found the trail, and was on my way down.

I joined the trail a bit too late to get one of my all time favorite views, but this one was pretty similar. 
While movement was very slow on the peaks and ridges above, I was able to move quickly once on trail.  One interesting thing that I have noticed multiple times this year is that I am now so quick going uphill I literally have to run whilst going downhill to equal or better that time.  This day was no exception- despite using gravity and jogging downhill at times, it took me above five minutes longer to go down the Red Mountain Trail than it did for me to go up! 
I made it back to the car with some daylight left, and enjoyed the drive back over Trail Ridge.  It's pretty amazing now to see all the places I've been, and alot of them are visible from this road. 
It's always a fun and adventurous day in the Ni-Chebe-Chii.  I know the reputation of the area has for loose stuff, and I definitely encountered some of the loosest stuff I ever have on this day.  Yet, some of the ridges are completely solid and some of the best and most fun climbs in all of RMNP. 
Link to hike map on Caltopo.
Ni-Chebe-Chii Part 6- The last lake in RMNP(distances as part of the hike):
Pinnacle Pool, 11300 feet: 5.4 miles, 2260 foot gain.  Second class.  Moderate+.
Howard Mountain, 12810 feet: 6.7 miles, 3770 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Mount Cirrus, 12797 feet: 7.5 miles, 3757 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Hart Ridge, 12500 feet: 8.05 miles, 3460 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Lead Mountain, 12537 feet: 8.8 miles, 3497 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Never Summer Peak*, 12438 feet: 10.7 miles**, 3398 foot gain.  Third class.  Strenuous.
As a whole, this day covered 18.8 miles with 6096 feet of elevation gain in up to third class terrain.  Strenuous.
*= Foster refers to this peak as Jiffy Pop Peak in her book.  I've also heard it called Cloudview Peak by some Estes locals. 
**= This figure does include the out and back to look at and think about the ridge between Lead and Tepee Mountains. 

Ni-chebe-chii Part 1

I've gone back and forth- should I name this post Ni-chebe-chii or Never Summer Mountains?  After all, Mount McKinley is now referred to as Denali by most if not all of the mountaineering community.  

In 1914,  members of the Arapahoe tribe were brought into the area on a CMC sponsored trip to find out what their native names were for various peaks and features.  They referred to this range as Ni-chebe-chii, literally never no summer.  Locals then decided to call this range the Never Summer Mountains.  It is easy to see why.  On the western border of RMNP, this range is likely to see snow before the eastern mountains, and it seems it is likely to stick around longer.  I've spent the past two weeks here, and found plenty of snow fields that have persisted throughout the summer, seeming more than in other areas of the park.

The rock here is younger than most of the other ranges in the park, and you will notice a distinct difference in most of the peaks.  While they were formed by glacial activity, they are still very much eroding, and there is a whole, whole lot of loose and rotten rock in the area.  With that in mind, it would be a very good idea to wear a helmet even if you are by yourself.  I have heard a ton of rockfall on my days here, apparently initiated by nothing at all.  

The plan for this day was to start from the Colorado River Th, head up the Red Mountain trail to the Grand Ditch, take that north to Hitchens Gulch, and then visit Lake of the Clouds, Mount Cirrus, possibly Hart Ridge, Howard Mountain, Mount Cumulus, Mount Nimbus, Mount Stratus, Baker Mountain, Green Knoll, and then Red Mountain and back down.  Ambitious?  Yes!

I started in the dark, leaving the car at the trail head at exactly 522 am.  The night before I realized it had been a year since I changed the batteries in my headlamp and did so.  That was definitely a good idea. 

Day came at some point.  The Red Mountain trail seems to be a mix of relatively steep for the first few miles and then pretty flat for what may be the worlds longest switchback.  Or at least it feels that way.  Look at it on a topo and you'll see what I mean. 

But I made it to the top and joined the Grand Ditch road.  This is an interesting piece of engineering.  It is a 14.3 mile long water diversion project that was built between 1890 and 1936.  The purpose was to catch some of the runoff that would normally flow west and divert it east through La Poudre pass.  It feeds into the Cache la Poudre River, and if you live downstream along that, you see some effect from this ditch way up in the mountains.  It is estimated that 25-40 percent of the runoff is diverted.

Mount Nimbus in the early morning sun.  You can already see how the peaks here are softly rounded with little vegetation or tundra.  A sign of things to come!

In Hitchens Gulch, you will pass by the ruins of several structures that once provided a place to live for miners.  In fact, there was a small settlement called Dutchtown in the area, hence the name of the NPS campsites and the river.

Never Summer Peak and Lead Mountain (background).  It was a beautiful day and I was already running behind my time estimate. 
You may reach a point where the trail just ends.  Cross the small creek on your left and it will resume on that side.  There are alot of splits and little offshoots.  I would say just take what seems to be going in the general direction that you want to go.  As I reached treeline, the trail hit rock and became indistinct, but by then I could see exactly where I was going. 

I found myself below Lake of the Clouds.  It is hard to tell, but there is a small exit waterfall.  Stay to the right of that on the pretty stable large talus slope.  Mount Cirrus is the peak pictured here.

At Lake of the Clouds.  So named because of its altitude of 11430 feet?  Or named because many of the peaks in the area are named after cloud types? 

I stopped for a snack and started to work my way around and up.  The plan was to reach the saddle between Howard Mountain and Mount Cirrus and head north.  I kept thinking maybe I could just head directly up Mount Cirrus, as it looked entirely possibly, but in the sake of exploration, I did not.
In the end it may have been better to do so, as I found steep snow fields blocking the way up the described route.  Some improvising was in order to avoid the snow.  Here I got my first real taste of the unstable and loose nature of the rock in the area.  I found myself on what amounted to a slope of pea gravel, where ever step forward ended up with sliding about half a step back.  I reached some more solid rock, only to kick pieces off as I moved up.  I learned early to really test any hand or footholds I was using.  This scramble was third class and loose.

But I finally made it up to the saddle.  From here it was just a short loose jaunt up to the summit of Mount Cirrus.  As I came to discover later in the day, this was about the most stable area of the whole traverse, so enjoy it.  I actually made pretty good time here.

Impressive clouds on this day.

At the top of Mount Cirrus, looking north to Hart Ridge, Lead Mountain, and others.  I was running behind schedule by a whole lot, so I decided to forgo Hart Ridge on this day.

Looking down to Lake of the Clouds.

Howard Mountain is the second highpoint south here, and you can see Cumulus and Nimbus farther in the background.  From here on out, it was a game of trying to loose as little elevation as possible yet to pick a safe way. 

Back in the saddle between Cirrus and Howard.  In this whole range there are a series of very large cairns.  I am not entirely sure what they are marking, but they did make for some interesting photographs as the day progressed. 

See?  I was almost at the summit of Howard Mountain. 

Looking east from Howard Mountain.

And south to Cumulus.  As you can probably guess just by looking at that photo, this portion of the day proved to be the most challenging.  The topo also doesn't tell the full story as there was alot of up and down upon reaching a undownclimbable section of ridge crest or something too loose to trust.  I often found myself doing down small gullies to avoid something, only to go back up shortly after to avoid something else. 

Another one of those huge cairns. 
It was in one of those small gullies that I put my right foot on a torso sized piece of rock on the other side only to have to move and tumble down.  It surely would have seriously injured anyone below. 

I finally reached the last little plateau.  Here I was able to stay directly on the ridge crest on mostly stable talus.

At last I was there! 

Looking south to Mount Nimbus.  Again, there was some loss and regain, but the going felt a bit easier here.

Back up to Cumulus.

Somewhere along this ridge I stumbled across this marker.  It seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

Several small ponds in the drainage between Cumulus and Nimbus.

Some interesting rock on the west side of Nimbus.

One of the small high points along the ridge. 

Almost there....

Finally!  Again I took a snack break and did some calculations.  it was late in the day, and going all the way out to Green Knoll and back wasn't in the cards.  I still thought about going to Baker and back, but at the speed I was going, that would have me come down Red Mountain in the dark, and I did not want to do that.  In the end, I just decided to leave all the peaks there for another day.  Going back for a grouping of three seemed more reasonable than just one.

But I did take a few reconnaissance photos!

Looking out to Red Mountain.  From what I could see, the traverse looked like pretty stable tundra at first, then a section of rock, and then the final approach to the summit on talus.

Cutest summit register ever?  On Mount Nimbus.  I saw it right as I was about to leave and moved it to a hopefully more visible location near the top of the cairn. 

Nimbus back lit and cloudy.

I reached the rocky section and tried to stay on the ridge crest.  My very first attempt had me kick and pull fist sized chunks of rock off.  So yeah.  More loss and gain.

Finally I made it through the difficulties and to the last easy walk up to the summit of Red Mountain. 

I took this photo looking back north and west.  The peaks here really are just slowly disintegrating slag heaps. 

The true summit of Red Mountain is the small high point to the east, pictured here. 
I am not going to go into the route I took back down to Grand Ditch.  I think it was too steep and loose to be a safe choice.  I would suggest just heading east- if you look at my photo above, you will see an area where it looks like an avalanche took out alot of the trees.  Finding this and staying in it would probably be the best option to avoid bushwhacking down this hill.

I was back at the Grand Ditch where it was still just a big pipe. 

I came down this side of of Red Mountain.  Not recommended! 
I made it back to the Red Mountain trail just as the sunlight was fading.  The headlamp came back out, as did the haunting and nebulous calls of Elk bugling in the night.  Of course it was around this time that I started thinking about horror movies... 

I made it back to the Colorado River.  It is only a few miles from here that it starts and begins the 1450 mile journey to the Gulf of California. 

The sign in the night.
I was excited to finally be close to the car.  I stopped a few times and turned my headlamp off to gaze at the night sky.  Right around the time the trail rejoined the La Poudre Pass trail, I heard a bugle very close to me.  I looked to my left and saw several pairs of eyes glowing in the night.   

Safely back at the car, I was trying to guess what time it was.  As I was getting my stuff off, I set my camera for a 60 second exposure and pointed it up.  This was the view. 
It was 847pm.  This gave me an almost 15.5 hour day, a personal best (or worst) in longevity.  And there was the almost two hour drive back home.  Fortunately, I did not encounter much traffic, and found myself in bed right around midnight. 
On paper, the numbers don't look too crazy- 17ish miles and 6000 or so feet of elevation gain.  It is the terrain that makes movement so difficult here.  Everything is loose, and when down or upclimbing, you have to test every single hand and foot hold before you commit your weight to them. This of course, takes some time.  But better to be safe than sorry!
Ni-chebe-chii Part 1 (distances as part of the hike):
Lake of the Clouds, 11430 feet: 6.6 miles one way, 2390 foot gain.  Strenuous-.
Mount Cirrus, 12797 feet: 7.4 miles one way, 3757 foot gain.  Up to third class.  Strenuous.
Howard Mountain, 12810 feet: 8.1 miles one way, 3770 foot gain.  Strenuous.
Mount Cumulus, 12725 feet: 9.3 miles one way, 3685 foot gain.  Strenuous.
Mount Nimbus, 12706 feet: 10.3 miles one way, 3666 foot gain.  Strenuous.
Red Mountain, 11605 feet: 11.7 miles one way, 2565 foot gain.  Strenuous.  
As a whole, this hike covers 17 miles and a bit over 6000 feet of gain with up to third class movement.  Strenuous+.