In my ongoing pursuit to climb Colorado’s 14ers, so far I have managed to finish 18 out of 58 of them.  That puts me squarely in the beginner-intermediate category, I think.  This year I’ve been trying to improve my skills and fitness by focusing on longer and more difficult climbs.  And so far, I’ve had success.  

A key goal in my progression this year was to climb a mountain called Wetterhorn Peak.  The Wetterhorn is in the San Juan mountains in southwest Colorado.  And while it’s not one of Colorado’s hardest mountains, it’s definitely harder than anything I’ve climbed so far. Most who know would say it’s an intermediate climb.  Specifically, it has an extended class three section for several hundred feet just below the summit with some fairly significant exposure.   

Class three climbing involves using both your hands and feet to move upwards.  Climbing, not hiking.  Not steep enough to warrant a rope, harness, and related rock-climbing gear.  But steep enough that you are aware of the air below you.  I have previously only done a small bit of class three on Mt. Sneffels and a short, unintentional stretch on Mt. Massive.  I was excited and a little bit nervous about this one.

Given that the Wetterhorn is around three hours from Salida, I headed down to Lake City for an overnight stay to ensure an early morning start.  

For those of you who may be unfamiliar with Colorado history, Lake City is famous for being the site of the trial of Colorado’s most famous cannibal, Alferd Packer.  During the winter of 1874, six men entered the San Juan wilderness but only one made it out.  Packer later confessed to resorting to cannibalism to survive.  The University of Colorado in Boulder named its student cafeteria the Alferd Packer grill so when I saw this place, I knew it was where I was going for dinner.

It was officially the off-season in Lake City and several of the small hotels in town were closed for the season.  The only one with vacancy was a place with rustic cabins called the Texan. The name bothered me more than it probably should have.  But it was clean, comfortable and most importantly, available. 

My cabin for the night.

The next morning, I drove up Henson Creek Road in the dark, arriving at the trailhead at the end of a 4wd road just as the sky was beginning to turn light.  The trail starts in the woods at 10,720 feet and follows Matterhorn Creek into the Uncompahgre Wilderness.

The ground in this basin must have some serious mineral content because the creeks flowing through it were some of the strangest colors I’ve ever seen.  The water in Matterhorn creek was a milky mint green but all the rocks along its banks were stained rust colored.

The water in this small tributary was crystal clear but all the rocks touched by the water were stained white.

As the woods started to open up, I began to see some of the surrounding mountains.

Breaking timberline.  That’s Matterhorn Peak straight ahead.  Pretty, but not nearly as dramatic as the one in Switzerland.

Another creek, this one rust colored.

The Wetterhorn comes into view.  And I have to tell you, when you first see it in person, the intimidation is real.

In full sun a little further up.

The trail climbs through the grassy slopes between the Wetterhorn and the Matterhorn.  

Then turns west and winds its way through a boulder field below the Wetterhorn’s southeast ridge.

Marmot!

On the Wetterhorn’s southeast ridge. 

The view south from the ridge.  You can see the first dusting of snow on the north faces of the peaks in the distance.

Looking up the Wetterhorn’s southeast ridge.  The first obstacle is a steep, loose yellow dirt section.

The yellow dirt required careful foot placement but it wasn’t as bad as it looked from below.  The view west from the Wetterhorn’s ridge.  The tall mountain in the center is Mt. Sneffels.

Let the scrambling begin.  The slope starts out easy enough and even though the trail gradually disappears there are plenty of cairns to mark the way.

But as you reach the upper slopes things steepen considerably.  This is where the class three scrambling begins.

The rock was solid and I found that as long as I was making small moves and didn’t look down, I was fine.  

But every now and then the climbing required a large step up onto a ledge or a scrambling move up and over a large boulder. These were unnerving.  For every foot I climbed I became increasingly aware of another foot of air below my feet.  I moved slowly and carefully making sure my foot and hand holds were solid and I was staying on route.

I was making decent, if uneasy, progress.  Until I got to this.  

These boulders are about shoulder high from where I was standing.  It’s good, solid rock and there were secure handholds on the top but I couldn’t figure out where to put my feet after the first couple of moves. Everything I tried gave me an unsettling feeling of vertigo and I was unable to force myself to clamber over it.  I was stuck.

I stood here for 15 minutes or more trying to figure it out but I couldn’t do it.  The exposure behind me was messing with my head and I couldn’t get past the feeling of falling.  I was approximately 300 feet from the summit and I hadn’t even gotten to the hardest part of the climb but I decided to pull the plug right here.  It was hugely disappointing but I couldn’t see any other option.  The Wetterhorn had beat me.

Dejected, I headed back down.  At least the weather was perfect and I had the scenery to console me.

The view down Matterhorn Creek from the Wetterhorn.

The Matterhorn and Uncompahgre Peak.

The rugged ridge between the Wetterhorn and the Matterhorn.

Closer shot of Uncompahgre, the tallest mountain in the San Juans and the sixth tallest in Colorado.

Heading back down Matterhorn creek.  Now that it was daylight, I could enjoy the fall colors in full display.

Near the bottom of Henson Creek Road I passed by the Ute Ulay and Hard Tack mines, which I hadn’t noticed driving up in the dark.

The Ute Ulay had the remains of an old dam that was used to power the mill back in the day.  

But I think they might have been a bit racist.

A couple of more views from the drive down Henson Creek road.

Needless to say, it was a discouraging day.  The Wetterhorn is the first mountain I have been unable to summit.  I honestly think that if I had had a more experienced partner to help with route finding and dealing with the exposure, I could have made it. But attempting it solo was too much for my current skill level.  Sometimes you eat the bear, sometimes the bear eats you.  

But at least I made it home safely.  And in the words of American mountaineer, Ed Viesturs:

“Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.“

 Amen.