Armenia to Turbo

Written by Neon

Armenia was a great place to recharge and plan for the upcoming mountain section. We tried to rest as much as we could before heading into the mountains. After Armenia, we walked up to the small tourist town of Salento, at the edge of the Parque Nacional Los Nevados. We felt ready and excited, though unsure about the route we were looking at. The trailhead at Valle del Cocora had at least three trails heading into the mountains with no maps showing which went where, and we weren’t able to find a physical map for the area. Continue reading

The End of Season Two: Pisac to Abancay

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Written by Neon

Fidgit and I were able to rest in Cusco. A big part of going into Cusco from Pisac for us was to get a backlog of work done so we could have fewer stressors in the last section. Pisac had been our original end goal, but arriving there a month ahead of schedule, we decided to push on after our ‘work break’ in Cusco. Continue reading

4 Pass Loop on the 4th of July

Was instantly and simultaneously enticed and wary of doing the Four Pass Loop Trail over the 4th of July weekend.

Touted as one of the “best hikes ever” by Backpacker Magazine, it held promise of both views and crowds.

Don’t let the dwarfing valley walls and peaks fool you, this is a high use trail and every piece of micro trash which falls out of your pocket or turd-flower you don’t bury, affects someone else’s experience.
Viva le foutaise!

My perfunctory read on Aspen is that most everyone wears very expensive shoes.
Continue reading

The Redcoats are Coming

SavedPicture-201311242168.jpgSo named for a particularly becoming shade of red nail polish found in the Hut.

It seems evidence like no other when incredible opportunities manifest and come together on the spur of the moment. Consecrated by several days of snow. That was this weekend.

AK KAte, from 5 years and glaciers past, swung through CO on the tail-end of a two month tour of the lower 48. It just so happens to be her birthday weekend and we were favored with a marvelous opportunity to make an early season trip to a tucked away mansion in the back-country.

SavedPicture-20131124203758.jpgThe Real World was waylaid as of Thursday afternoon, when a co-worker loaned us beacons, shovel, and probe. Back-country winter safety starts at home. We spent that night burying one transceiver (beacon) in the snow and took turns finding it.
Investment level: Our Lives.
We then brushed up with ‘The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Game.”

Friday morning KA and I went to my most goodest favorite breakfast joint, the Inxpot at Keystone. From there it was a flurry of gear and packing, running for buses and finally, a rendezvous with Huckleberry.

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How I learn: Happy and the hard way.

Followed by another series of stops and shops and Girls’ Club hit the Spruce Creek trailhead around 3. Up a snowy drainage for just over a mile to our destination.

I have to admit, I’m not much of a shoe girl; so, knew something was headed in the wrong direction when I packed 4 pair of shoes for the escapade (downhill ski boots [heavy], cross-country ski shoes [3 pin bindings, baby], hut shoes, and boots just to get to the trail-head).
Not to mention, the 2 pairs of skis.
This being a first adventure of its kind, I am inclined to give myself grace.
The uphill climb on decades outdated equipment was not so forgiving.
Here I began to summate a recent musing. Allowing thoughts to sift as we climbed through gently falling snow and a settling chill.
Just because something is comfortable doesn’t mean it is best, just as what is uncomfortable doesn’t mean it is bad.SavedPicture-201311251925.jpg

We made the hut by nightfall and the much more experienced and adept boys flew up some time later. With the confidence and ease we needed to bolster into this new landscape, they guided through the weekend in phenomenal knowledge and gumption.

But that first night, we kept occupied habituating and naturalizing.

The next day we forayed up and across to a ‘knoll’ on the south wall of the valley. A herd of mountain goats ambled in profile atop a ridge some thousands of feet above. The snow was deep just here, deep enough to ski. So ski we they did.

The sum of joys encountered out there lie in every moment, as individual and composites; therefore, infinite combinations of utter fulfillment exist within a finite span of time. From the mountains around to our Dasein actions. Passing from warm hut into chilly air and vice-versa. Warm breath on chilled digits or warm face on cool windowpane. Snow crystals flutter in sun, shadows wink and stretch. Clouds ebb and flow. All is well as all is true as all is absolute.

edited hutNot ready to face the end of finite, our hopes were heard and we were endowed another night. Made the best of the blessing and maximized on it, ending the day with Tricky Dick ruling card games and a jiffy pop crescendo.

I stepped away for a moment, through a camera lens and bore witness. They crowded around the tiny kitchen burner, as intent and enthralled by the jiffy-pop as small children at the Circus.
Each whom I esteem greatly; all the more so for their wonderment. Overcome by the privilege of it.
Jiffy-pop space age bubble bursts loudly; snap gratefully back into the present.

The hut was comfortable and cozy; in fact, better than that. It was easy to exist there. Especially made so by the combination of good will and earnest effort. From splitting wood to sunrise skis, the boys kept the bases covered. Water was a near constant process, as was eating, dishes, there are always chores; all shared with easy grace.

Note: when winter adventuring, bring extra food. (Suggestions- Cutie Clementines, apples, cheese, herbed salami shaft, more cheese)

The second day went much as the first, only everything flowed more easily. Helped along by two pots of coffee, we set out in different directions, this time each closer attuned to the applications of our particular equipment.
Gathered in, put final touches on tidying and ended on a glorious up-note, skiing down the mountain back to the trail head. Passed The Man Himself, headed up the hill. We briefly saluted and continued flying and squealing and whooping and whizzing down.
It was a blast.
Having now seen and tasted the experiences available with the right set-up, it begins to tip the scale on my aversion to the financial investment.

Mowwed down at Empire Burger then home for a nap, dinner, and living room yoga party.
Now a tall glass of water and a long drink of bed.

Life is blessed.

Francie’s Cabin, August 2013

The next morning, clouds kept company thin as I packed up and set off on Wheeler Trail, following 10 Mile Range southwards, over Wheeler Pass (12,408 ft) which drops to the east of Peaks 9 & 10.

Emerging over a final alpine buttress, Francie’s Cabin glinted  at treeline in the valley below. Crystal Lakes lay calm above and to the west, nestled in the rocky bowl of the mountains, where old mine ruins make a fun day hike from Spruce Creek Trail Head.

Crystal Lakes and their chaperones.

Looking down toward Francie’s Cabin.

Arrived at the cabin just before the rest of the crew rolled up.
As I changed into clean(er) clothes in the porch room of the hut, Trip and Jigsaw torpedoed in with hugs; spirits robust. Their cheeks already flushed by the healthy glow of being outdoors. Mike gave the sizable volunteer crew a rundown of duties and we scattered.

As always, firewood comprised a significant portion of the work. One crew ran the log splitter and loaded the truck about a mile down, at the gate. When those of us working on cleaning the hut would hear the telling thunder of logs being tossed in the wood-room window, we began to wrap up whatever project we were on, donned work gloves and descended to order and stack.

Being the bulk of the work, I loved the community down in the wood-room. Chaining logs back into stacking compartments, where a Disaster Preparedness Coordinator stacked logs with just the right tilt, aided by her teenage daughter.

The Summit Huts folk give a great Photo Documentary of the day.

The day passed in a busy blur of cleaning chemicals, work gloves, and elbow grease.

Francie’s Cabin, her porch railing recently re-done.

The Summit Huts Association plays caretaker to a system of the most incredible back-country huts I have yet encountered. This may have something to do with their being amoung the most visited huts in the US.
Particularly impressive that they are largely volunteer supported. From those who left the legacy, to hut masters, to crews such as ours, these are Coloradans’ love of the outdoors, manifest in hewed log.

The sauna house certainly didn’t hurt my impression of the set up; particularly on  the tail of a harrowing hike, a day of work, and a delicious dinner of fresh veggies over couscous (or was it quinoa?).

It was a treat to celebrate and pay homage to the bounty which surrounds, with quality friends.
I have learned an easy way to identify folk who are worth spending time with: they show up.
Take a shot. Step outside of comfort boundaries. Chin up when it gets rough. Keep going.

I was thrilled be out there with Jigsaw, Trip, and Carl. Every time I saw one or all of them, my heart Hopscotched.

Trip, Fidgit, Jigsaw, and Carl.

On Sunday we wrapped up the last of the projects, swept the wood room, now stocked for winter, and lounged over lunch; hesitation to leave supported by an afternoon drizzle.

As we sallied forth to hike the couple of miles back down to Spruce Creek trail head, Carl grinned, “I could hike in this all day.”
I am amoung my own.