On Monday (25th) we left Boulder and drove to Estes Park, just outside of the Rocky Mountain National Park.
It’s a smooth cruise north along 36 out of Boulder. Construction on 36 near Lyons had us detour onto route 7. And what a spectacular detour! Route 7 winds up a narrow canyon, and then down into Estes Park.
In Estes Park, we found the local gear store, picked up a guide book for Lumpy Ridge and directions to some nearby sport climbing.
Almost like an open prairie north of boulder.
Road trip to Lumpy Ridge!
The back of the van. “Here be climbers!”
On top of route 7 we got a spectacular view of Long’s peak, and the famouse “diamond”.
Coming down into Estes on route 7.
Estes Park is nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains and granite. A climber’s paradise!
In prep for going to Lumpy Ridge this week, we decided to go back into Boulder Canyon; climb on some granite, and work on some finger-jam cracks to push my grade. (Lumpy is notoriously stiff.)
Cob Rock was the obvious choice being so assessible.
This is another roadside park, Tyrolean over Boulder Creek, and up a short scramble. We started up a 5.6+ which was a real struggle for me; but I did it. Then we moved onto the main 5.7+ route up the center of the north face. Parts were straightforward, but one off-width crack, and a second jam crack really gave me trouble. Took my first real fall off the wall at one point, and even had to jug up the line to get around one section. (Involves tying special knots with slings and standing up on the sling to move up the rope. Total cheat, but when your completely stuck on a face, up is up!) Fortunately we had just been practicing this the previous day.
When we left, we discovered some local kids had rigged a slack line under the Tyrolean making for some unexpected fun on the exit!
I had a Saturday to myself while Mike was working. I ran some errands, cleaned, organized etc in the hotel, dodged two hours of heavy rain, and then took a drive up Flagstaff road.
(That’s what the guide books say.) After our climbing in Eldorado and Boulder canyons, we decided to go back and run up the third Flatiron.
We started from the now familiar Chatauqua parking lot, and tore up the approach. Mike’s favorite dig is, “hiking?! …you mean walking. That’s what we do to get to the climbing.”
We walked up about 500 vertical feet to the third Flatiron. Gorgeous trees, rubble fields, scree… and all the while this huge prominence of rock is sticking up into the sky. The face is about a 60 degree incline, with just little undulations, texture and some little ridges for hands and feet. From the top, it’s a triple rappel off the back side, then a “walk off” — which means you scramble doen the steepest, gnarliest terrain you could imgine ever “hiking” down.
Our climb on the first Flat was more epic; mostly because it was my first climb and it took seven pitches, mostly in the dark. The third was a fun, three pitch cruise. The left edge, bottom to top, is about 1,800 feet (if memory serves). On our ascent, we started about halfway up, on the right side. By the second pitch, you’re looking down on Boulder, and the raptors are cruising *below* you sailing the ridge lift.
The Flatirons of Boulder Colorado
Mike lost in thought. (Probably was a girl off to the right.)
Walkers (climber wanna-bes) beware!
Up up up ever upward.
Some people simply scramble all the way up without safety gear! This is not mike nor me.
Slip slabbin away…. easy climbing, but the slope is endless.
View looking back down the slab from the first belay.
Huge cleft in the top of the flatiron.
Mike’s belay perch when I reached the summit.
Edge of the world at the top of the first rappel.
A view from the top looking south.
Down this is considered a “walk off.” Class three approach terrain.
We’ll head up to the town outside of Estes Park to pick up provisions and to visit the local climbing shop for a guide book and local knowledge. We’ve a campsite a short distance from the ridge. So we can ride our bikes a few miles to access whatever we want to climb.
So far, my visit to colorado has been pretty easy; hotel rooms, and climbing about half the days. But this week is going to be a lot more climbing. Yesterday (blog post/photos not yet up), we climber two single-pitch routes on Cob Rock in Boulder Canyon to get me some time doing jam cracks on granite. Oof! Burly stuff.
Photos from our ascent of the Wind Ridge (5.6) route on the Wind Tower in Eldorado Canyon.
The canyon is an indescribable mecca of climbing, with classic routes just criss-crossed all over the canyon walls. We selected Wind Ridge because a) I could climb it and b) it was a short three pitches with easy access to water for our ALS ice water challenge.
Foot bridge over the creek with Mike pointing out the route.
I was quite pleased to march right past this sign!
A view of the route during the approach.
Easy! …or at least, it sure looks easy in the guide book.
Craig coming up onto a belay point.
The “Wind Ridge” route
Mike taking in the view from the top as we started some down climbing to get to the rappel point.
A Clif Bar with an image of a climber, image taken by a climber on a cliff. o.O
This had my name written all over it. (“Craig” means “dweller of the crag”.)
After climbing the first Flatiron, we only got a few hours of nap time. After some shopping, (new climbing shoes!) we heading into Boulder Canyon to climb on some granite in a “sport climbing” setup – meaning the rock had countless rock bolts set making it super easy to setup the fall protection.
Turned out I was so burnt from the previous day, I could only do a couple small sections. On the up side, I got to spend a lot of time belaying Mike while he worked on some project routes.
Getting to the climb involved a short walk down the road, traversing the roaring creek on a tyrolean traverse and a short walk back up the other side. Seriously fun!
Picking and preparing gear.
View of the rope slung from the granite block on the left, across the creek to the tree.
A gallery of a few photos from my first hike in Colorado. I arrived late in the evening on Saturday, and this was my first exertion to see how the altitude really felt. Great little hike up a couple hundred feet.
Red Rocks trail leading up from the Mt Sanitas trailhead.
First glimpse of the flatirons (on the horizon) as you crest the Red Rocks trail.
The Red Rocks formation; A small prominence at the top of the trail.
View of the first flatiron from atop the Red Rocks.
Almost to Boulder. Spent the night — after some epic delays in Allentown, missed connections, missed standby, and terminal hussle in Chicago — in Louisville Co. Caught up with Mike; dinner, beer, and probabaly the last/only night under a roof. Sorted all my gear out this morning, and Mike’s leaving me the van for today. Couple stops, then off to try a trail hike to see how this “thin air” really works out.
33lbs in the backpack (in the sea bag, for airline check luggage), 9lbs in the little pack for carryon.
All of this, comes out of those two little bags. A couple days before I left for Colorado, Mike and I set up a video call to do a gear shake-down. I started with the two packed bags, and then unpacked everything.
USS Furse (DD-882/DDR-882) was a Gearing-class destroyer of the United States Navy, named for Lieutenant John H. Furse USN (1886–1907).
My father served aboard as a fire control technician (as in “gun fire”); He operated a radar tracking and guidance system which controlled the targeting of the ships guns. At other times (I believe “special sea and anchor detail” being the correct parlance) he was tasked as a “phone talker” which generally entailed following a half step behind the officer of the deck (i.e., the officer commanding the ship at any given moment) and relaying communications through a microphone and headset he was wearing. (So if the Captain wants to single up all lines, he can simply say, “fo’c’s’le, bridge, single up.” and the ever-present, invisible sailer repeats it into the phones.)
Anyway. Here is a small collection of photos my father took of USS Furse.
Some of my readers are salty dogs, and will wonder how a sailor took photos of his own ship under way. During a Mediterranean cruise, Furse exchanged some sailors with a French destroyer during joint maneuvers.