I climbed Mount Lindsey the day after the terrorist attacks on New York and the Pentagon. I had planned to take Wednesday off to climb something, and I had originally planned to climb Crestone Needle. I decided to wait until next year because I was scared by the horror stories of the ROAD into South Colony Lakes - the climb itself doesn't scare me. Since I'll be getting bigger tires and possibly a lift kit for my Jeep by next summer, the Crestones will have to wait until then.

So, on Tuesday, 9/11/01, I drove to work with all my camping and climbing gear loaded in the Jeep. My plan was to sneak out of work at around 15:00 and drive down to Walsenburg and west to the Huerfano River Trailhead to climb Lindsey on Wednesday. Shortly after I arrived at work at 09:00, I was told the bad news of the attacks by a co-worker. I was unsure whether I wanted to go ahead with the climb, but would decide that afternoon. Our corporate office in the Denver Tech Center closed down around noon and my boss told me I could go home if I wanted. I decided to head out to Walsenburg and go ahead with the climb.

On the way through Colorado Springs I stopped at the Bristol Brewery for a jug of Laughing Lab. Cars were lined up at the entrance to Fort Carson south of the Springs, no doubt military personnel reporting. Just before Walsenburg I turned off I-25 and onto highway 69 for the 25 mile drive to Gardner. Just past Gardner I turned off on the Redwing Spur of 69, which turned into a dirt road after several miles. I had the rear window of the Jeep rolled up and both front windows open and the interior became coated with a layer of dust. Just about everyone I passed on the road gave me a wave - I like that.

The road crosses the private property of the Singing River Ranch to gain access to National Forest land and the trailhead. There is no camping allowed on this part of the road, but there are so many No Trespassing signs it would be hard to make that mistake. I flushed a half dozen or so wild turkeys on this road. A passenger car can probably make it up most of this road; there is a fairly rough spot just below the trailhead where at least a high-clearance 2WD vehicle is required. As 4X4 roads go, this is a pretty easy one. I drove up to the trailhead, surveyed the area, and headed back down the road to find a level campsite. Just below the rough stretch is a hidden road that ducks into the trees; I went down there and found a nice campsite complete with a good fire ring. There are actually many good campsites once you leave the private land.

I got to sleep pretty early, and actually slept well in the tent. I awoke around 04:00 to crystal clear skies and a thin sliver of a moon. I didn't want to start so early but I had slept enough; I lay in my bag until 04:30 then packed up camp. I put all my camping gear in the Jeep, along with other items I wouldn't need, such as an ice axe, snow pants and snow gloves. I left the Jeep where it was and started up the trail by headlamp.

The first mile or so of the trail is easy - it's an old jeep trail. After a mile the Lily Lake trail splits off to the west, and I wanted to make sure I took the correct trail from here. The Lily Lake trail has a sign on a tree, so it was easy to see and avoid. The trail to Lindsey continues along the Huerfano River, then crosses it and heads up into a drainage away from the river. Here the trail became somewhat difficult to follow in the dark under headlamp illumination. I saw an occasional cairn which told me I was likely on the correct trail. I reached the tail of a talus slope, the trail appeared to die out, and I saw a cairn on one of the larger talus blocks. I took this to mean that the trail went up the talus slope, but this was a bad assumption...

Once on the talus I could not find any more cairns or any sign of a trail. I knew I had to climb and traverse on the west side of a couple 12000'+ points, and make my way south past the Iron Nipple. I climbed the talus along a wooded area, and generally headed south. After a while it was light enough to look below me and see the trail in a grassy meadow. Oh well... I didn't want to descend and lose my hard-won elevation, so I continued my traverse. I probably added 30 minutes to my ascent by using this improvised route. The talus was mostly solid but I eventually travelled across some loose talus and scree. I was nearing the Iron Nipple, and started to entertain thoughts of climbing the Nipple and then heading to Lindsey on the connecting ridge. I decided the Nipple had some passable routes from the west and climbed steep talus to its base.

          
Fotos ©2001 by John C. Maki

I picked a diagonal path to a small saddle, and hoped to find an easy way to the ridge from there. My route started as class 3, then steepened into class 4, and I finally cliffed myself out below some lower class 5 terrain. Since I had no helmet, no climbing partners, no rope, and I was climbing one of the more obscure 14ers on a weekday after a national disaster and was off-route to boot, I felt it would be prudent to backtrack and find a better way. A little to the south of this route, I found another route that looked like it would go. Same thing... ran into class 5 and decided to give up on the Nipple and join the trail. This descent was hairy in one spot - I was on an exposed ledge with sketchy hand and footholds, and needed to downclimb it. I got the fear and got a bad case of "Elvis leg" for a minute before I calmed myself down and slowly made the downclimb. Finally I was off the 3rd class rock and back on the talus. I made my way to the trail and my primary objective, Mount Lindsey.

The trail was steep, and my legs were pumped after the rock climbing. I made it onto the connecting ridge between Lindsey and the Iron Nipple, which is the view in the photo at the top of the page. The summit pyramid, which actually turned out to be a false summit, looked very steep to me, but I could see a trail winding its way up the north face. I started up the trail, and as usual, the steepness was an illusion and the trail was not that bad. Some sections of the trail are loose dirt and gravel, and easier climbing can be had by sticking to the rock on either side of the trail. The difficulty of the rock is more like class 3 while the trail is class 2+, but I found it to be more pleasant.

I reached the top of the false summit and found an easy section of ridge that led to the actual summit. I reached the top at 10:10: 5 hours to gain this summit! I learned several lessons on this climb. Alpine starts sometimes don't save you any time, if you can't find the trail in the dark. What looks like easy rock can be revealed to be difficult rock up close. Save the extra credit climbing (Iron Nipple) for AFTER the primary objective.

          
Fotos ©2001 by John C. Maki

The weather was beautiful - sunny, just a few cirrus clouds high in the sky, very little wind, t-shirt weather. Part of me wanted to stay on the summit for hours, a more insistent part of me wanted to get back down and find out what was going on in the world. After ten minutes I started back down, after signing the summit register. Several times during the day I saw large military aircraft, probably transports, winging their way south. It was eerie to see so little traffic in the sky. I wondered if any more acts of terror had been unleashed upon us, or if we were now at war.

I found it was easier to descend the scree trail than the adjacent rock, though my quadriceps were cramping badly at times. My left foot even cramped up for a short time. I fully expected my knees to scream on the descent, but they weren't too bad. Once I exited the main gully on the north face I made good time on the descent. I passed a group of three climbers, who asked if I was aware of the recent events on the East Coast. Once off the ridge, I saw a bighorn sheep, who eyed me warily but did not retreat. Further down I passed a lone climber who inquired about the route. I told him what I knew and continued on my way. Shortly after our meeting the trail seemed to die suddenly. I either had to backtrack uphill to find where the trail really went, or assume my path was correct and the trail had just faded. I kept going down into a drainage between two talus slopes, one light-colored granite and the other a dark, smooth igneous rock of some kind. I was pretty sure I lost the trail again, but this way wasn't bad and I didn't want to backtrack. I found a nice grassy slope, then saw the trail just above me so I got back to it and followed the trail the rest of the way down.

About halfway down, I ran out of water. It was warm and I was thirsty, but I wasn't too concerned. Once in the woods I crossed numerous streams, and splashed some water on my face to cool off. By 12:50 I was back at camp, where I traded Makalus for Tevas and swilled down the Laughing Lab left in my jug, about one beer's worth. I also drank some water... :-) An elderly gentleman asked me about my climb and asked if I was vacating my campsite, and I told him it was all his. I also talked to some Texans hiking along the trail, who asked if I had hiked to "the lake". I presumed they meant Lily Lake - I told them I had climbed Lindsey, they didn't seem to know it. One man was quite interested in my climb and asked me lots of questions while I sat in the shade a few hundred yards from the trailhead.

I drove out, this time with all my windows closed against the dust, and made it to I-25 at around 14:20, where I called Donna to let her know I was finished. I listened to the radio for updates on the attack most of the way home, then stopped at Bristol Brewery for a refill of Laughing Lab and a new jug of Winter Warlock oatmeal stout. I can't tell you about the Winter Warlock but that Laughing Lab hit the spot once I got home. If you enjoy good beer be sure to try out some of Bristol Brewery's offerings...