View photos/Greg McKulick Kathy Holen and Murray, her golden retriever, rest near the summit of unnamed peak 10,761, with a view of the Sangre de Cristo range.

Obscure peaks provide outdoor adventure close to home

By GREG McKULICK
The Pueblo West View

Kathy and I felt more anticipation about this summer’s high country hiking season than in any previous year during our three decades together.

With the realization that I’ll never be able to make up for my three lost years due to serious medical conditions culminating in last year’s double knee replacement surgery and a very delicate back surgery, I have learned the lesson of living in the present. Between 2004 and 2007, Kathy took some solo hikes and camping trips with friends, but her outdoors time was also sharply curtailed during my semi-invalid period.

Despite the reality that my full strength and endurance will never return, I accept my limitations. Thus, Kathy and I knew this would be a very special summer for us in Colorado’s alpine world.

Early June found us readying our camper, gathering supplies, and working on logistics and an itinerary for our June 13 departure to a cluster of obscure mountains in western Fremont County.

Wednesday morning, two days before leaving on our trip, I awoke with severe intestinal distress. By the time I saw a doctor on Thursday, I had lost 7 pounds. Lab tests were negative for salmonella, and medication helped me recover enough to consider heading to the mountains on Saturday.

After driving through Canon City and turning north on Highway 9 to the Tallahassee Road turnoff (Fremont County Road 2), we began one of Colorado’s most scenic and least known backcountry drives; over hills, through canyons, and passing sprawling ranches and open meadows capped with rounded peaks.

Much of this country is privately owned, but it is checkered with tracts of BLM and state lands. After passing Poncha Park, we turned south onto aspen-lined County Road 11 which led to County Road 12. County Road 12’s hilly terrain provided distant views of the Sawatch Range to the west before we arrived at a minor pass separating Stoney Face and Jack Hall mountains. County Road 12 eventually descends through arid hills, with vistas of the Sangre de Cristo Range, to U.S. 50 and Cotopaxi village along the banks of the Arkansas River. This loop drive, filled with diverse landscapes, ends by paralleling the Arkansas River through sun-baked Big Horn Sheep Canyon and the intriguing desert heights of the McIntyre Hills.

To me, 11,041-foot Jack Hall Mountain and 11,386-foot Stoney Face Mountain were only names on a map as no outdoor guide had ever deemed them worthy of recognition or hiking information. Thus, our solitude in this area was assured and I was curious about what gifts these mountains would offer.

I assumed these lower mountains would help Kathy and I acclimatize for future higher-elevation hikes. They are also located in a comparatively dry part of Colorado, giving us confidence that we would not have to deal with the unusually heavy snows which had blanketed most of Colorado’s high country the previous winter.

A BLM road sign at the pass between the two mountains indicated that the BLM side road we intended to follow would end at private property. I assumed that the land owner was allowing a right of way passage to public lands, but instead found “No Trespassing” signs.

Lucy, a chocolate lab, and Murray, a golden retriever, return to camp after heading up Peak 11,082.

Despite the brilliance of a classic blue Colorado sky and the delicate ballet of butterflies floating from wildflower to wildflower, I was frustrated for our maps indicated that the jeep track to Jack Hall Mountain was entirely on public land. Kathy and I decided to “cool off” by sitting down for lunch while Murray Golden Retriever and Lucy Chocolate Lab improvised a joyful canine dance as if to say “things weren’t so bad and where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

After studying our map and the lay of the land, we crossed a fence paralleling the “not too bad” BLM entry road, walked on the public land side of the fence, and improvised a cross country route to Jack Hall Mountain.

Despite occasional tummy gurgling from my recent illness, I felt that the terrain wasn’t too difficult for a six-mile round-trip hike even though I lacked my normal strength. I counted on a good dose of alpine medicine being what my body and soul required.

The four of us followed a faint woodland path, paralleling the public land boundary, to an open meadow. After a few hundred yards of uphill hiking, we contoured around an open hillside where I spotted cliffs rising above us. I suggested that we alter our route by hiking to the cliff top and some hopefully fine views. Kathy sighed and grudgingly humored me while I imagined her unspoken thoughts “Here we go again, Greg can be so maddening with his route changes.”

After a moderate scramble through brush and up rocks, we found a comfortable flat spot atop the cliffs. According to our topo map, we were just below the summit of unnamed peak 10,761. I couldn’t resist adding, “I told you the views would be special.” Lucy and Murray, being more preoccupied with treats than views, chomped contentedly on biscuits while stretching out between Kathy and me.

On this clear day, we saw the distant silhouette of 14,264-foot Mount Evans, which overlooks Denver, along with several much closer Sawatch Range 14ers and high 13ers, glistening in snowy splendor, to the west.

A few minutes later, after crossing the forested summit, we enjoyed an unexpected panorama of Pikes Peak, the needle-like Crestones of the sky-piercing Sangre de Cristos, and the distant Spanish Peaks north of the New Mexico border. Here on this strategically located peak, unworthy of write-ups in any mountain guide, we were on perhaps the only Colorado mountain to offer views stretching from northerly Mount Evans to the Spanish Peaks.

Although almost anything would be anticlimactic after these views, we still intended to climb Jack Hall mountain. After an easy cross-country descent from Peak 10,761, we discovered a worn four-wheel track, not indicated on our map, which provided easy walking to the Jack Hall summit. Why go to obscure Jack Hall Mountain? Why go to any mountain? Because it is there, and we have an undeniable curiosity about the unknown.

Jack Hall did not offer expansive panoramas, but the peak did gift us with one grand vista as it overlooked the Arkansas River and U.S. 50, near Coaldale, with a seemingly infinite view of the Sangre de Cristos stretching to the Crestones and the distant Spanish Peaks. The mountain’s summit also had a glass jar with a notebook register placed by the legendary Mike Garratt, co-author of Colorado’s High Thirteeners, Garratt is a great bagger of obscure peaks; I have probably found more than of his registers on many of Colorado’s least known peaks.

Feeling the effects of my recent illness, the drain of our hike on my recovering body caused me to lag behind Kathy and the dogs on the return walk to our vehicle. Back at the pass, our fatigued impressions of the steep route to Stoney Face’s summit convinced us to try a gentler, longer alternative route the next day.

We then drove a few miles north on Road 12 to a level primitive campsite, close to a long ridge which, according to our topo map, led to Peak 11,082. Stoney Face Mountain appeared easily accessible (again, according to our topo map) via a modest saddle between it and Peak 11,082.

Morning dawned crisp and clear, but all was not well as Kathy had caught my stomach virus. After a short, game effort to join the dogs and me on the open ridge to Peak 11,082, Kathy retreated to the comforts of our camper. She tried to encourage 11-year-old Murray to join her, but he raced up the ridge to join Lucy and me.

After the previous day’s effort, I felt none too strong myself, walking slowly, with frequent breaks, up a gradual incline bordered by a shimmering forest of willowy aspen. Not worrying about the likelihood of an early June thunderstorm, I took my time crossing a meadow and climbing Peak 11,082’s forested northwestern ridge. Lucy and Murray didn’t mind my slowness as this gave them more opportunities to sniff and explore.

Attributing the weariness to my recent illness, I slumped on a summit cliff which presented an enchanting, but disorienting southeast vista of the Crestone Peaks and Wet Mountain valley along with the steep, rugged slopes of Stoney Face Mountain. My mind buzzed, puzzled as to why my view was in a different direction than expected. I wondered where I was and how I ended up there on a supposedly straightforward hike. A large, silky raven landed on a nearby boulder, stared me in the eye and mocked me with squawks, seeming to say, “Birdbrain!, you should have studied your map more closely!”

Being so fatigued, I knew that Stoney Face’s summit was out of the question and I needed to figure out exactly where I was. Belatedly, studying the topo map, I noticed that Peak 11,082’s summit was further to the east than I realized with three contour lines on top of each other - explaining the steep cliffs below me.

This spot made for a scenic, comfortable rest on the way up Peak 10,761.

Retracing my steps in the dense forest was not easy and a distant view of distinctive Black Mountain to the northeast assured me of the direction not to take. After reaching a rocky outcrop with a westward view of the Sawatch Range’s distinctive 14ers and high 13ers, I soon knew exactly where I was.

A distracting bright light suddenly caught my eye. This reflected sunlight was something metallic in the nearby rocks. Moving closer I discovered three metal plaques; a canine cemetery, memorializing the memory of three beloved dogs including a “joyful wolf-dog.” Murray and Lucy, sensing the sacredness of the site, sat silently beside me as we paid our respects.

We then slowly, but steadily walked downhill to the camper where Kathy had rested for several hours. She felt slightly better. We embraced tenderly and drove quietly home.

As for Stoney Face Mountain, Kathy and I agreed that this backcountry loop drive would provide a stunning display of fall colors and vowed to return in late September to the pass near Jack Hall Mountain for the short, steep climb up Stoney Face.

Recommended:

1. Colorado Atlas and Gazetteer, DeLorne Publishing, 2007, pages 60-61, page 71.

2. USGS topo maps; Jack Hall Mountain quad and Waugh Mountain quad.

3. BLM edition 1985 Surface Management Topo Map, Pikes Peak.

Pueblo West resident Greg McKulick has an extensive hiking resume, and regularly shares his adventures with View readers.

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