"Who you callin' little?" snarled the picture of the bear that was penned on the summit register the morning of June 25. That about says it all. I'd been afraid to climb Little Bear ever since I read Gerry Roach's route descriptions, until this year. I finally decided after extensive research that I could handle the Bear, provided I climbed without others on the route to knock rocks down on my head.

Bob also wanted to climb Little Bear, and hadn't climbed Blanca or Ellingwood either. Since Bob wasn't working and I was working weekends, a combined Little Bear/Blanca/Ellingwood trip during the week seemed to fit the bill nicely. We made our plans and left for the Como Lake Road around 08:00 on Tuesday. Since I had just lifted my Jeep I was eager to try it out on the infamous Road, called by many the roughest 4X4 road in Colorado. I had done some research on this "road" and decided I should be able to make it about halfway up, before the real obstacles begin. After that point, a rig with 4" of lift, 33" tires and locking differentials (not to mention considerable driver skill) could probably handle the road.

The plan was to drive as high as we could, backpack the rest of the way to Como Lake, evaluate the weather and our condition, and attempt Little Bear that afternoon. If conditions did not permit an afternoon climb, we would hit the Bear the next morning and possibly climb Blanca/Ellingwood after. This would have been a horribly long day so we were both hoping conditions would be favorable for an afternoon climb.

I packed up for the trip Monday, using my new smaller Gregory backpack along with a new Camelback Rim Runner for my summit pack. The Rim Runner holds 100oz of water plus 1600 cubic inches of gear, so I thought it would be good for summit attempts from a base camp. Tuesday morning I picked up Bob and we loaded his gear. He brought a standard 50m/10.5mm rope plus his new 70m/9.8mm rope, chopped down to 50m. I brought a scale to check our pack weight and we were both around 35lbs including rope and water - not bad.

We drove down I-25 to Walsenburg, grabbed an early lunch and went west on 160 across La Veta Pass. We turned north at 150 toward the San Dunes, and about 3 miles later came across the Lake Como Rd. The road wasn't really marked, watch for it after 3.2 miles on 150. We drove up the Lake Como Rd for a few dusty miles and came across a parking area, which we figured was the 8000' trailhead for passenger cars. We stopped here, I disconnected my front swaybar links and zip-tied them up out of the way, and we aired the tires down to 15psi. My 2000 Jeep TJ has 31" BFG AT tires, a 2" Teraflex lift (which actually gave me 3") and Edelbrock IAS shocks. Other than that and the homemade quick disconnects, it's pretty much stock.

I wasn't planning to tackle the whole road as I am not all that experienced a 4x4 driver and I didn't want to tear up my Jeep. I hoped to drive up 3 miles and find a place to park, then hike up the rest of the way to Lake Como. The first mile or so of road past the passenger parking area was no big deal, just rough and rocky. After that I drove across some smaller protruding rocks and across some small shelves, but still nothing challenging. When I came to a switchback at 2.8 miles, I could see some bigger rocks ahead up a steep hill and thought maybe I should grab the parking spot on the switchback and call it good enough. It was about 12:15, and we started up the hill with our packs. It turned out the rocks were no big deal and I could have easily driven past them and maybe another 1/2 mile.

We saw a Toyota Tacoma with Washington DC plates pulled off the road, just before a large protruding rock. It seems I could have bypassed the rock, but I noticed the Toyota had a nice dent-n-scrape in the passenger side rocker panel, and the large rock had fresh green paint on it. Oops. Further along we came across the first major obstacle: Jaws 1. It's a rock rib that angles across the road and it's maybe 3' high. Numerous scrapes from vehicles were seen on this rock, and rust from the metal scrapings stained the surface. Some broken pieces of metal littered the road. Unfortunately we didn't get to see anyone attempt to drive over the obstacles in this road... We passed some old cabin ruins and continued to wind up the steep and rocky road.

It was hot and flies were buzzing around, but after passing several more impassable-looking obstacles we reached Lake Como at about 14:15. We dropped our packs and quickly set up camp, picking a nice spot on the southeast side of the lake next to a stream. We loaded our summit packs with the essentials, put our harnesses on, each took a butterfly-coiled rope strapped on over our packs, and started up the hill directly from camp at 14:50.

Foto ©2002 by John C. Maki

Our path led us up steep grassy slopes above the trees to a talus slope, which became a loose, steep, nasty couloir of scree and talus. This gully was the most unpleasant part of the climb, but we topped out at the first prominent notch in Little Bear's west ridge. From here the route passes to the south of the ridge and contours along past a second notch to just below the southwest face of Little Bear. The route was easy to follow, and was fairly well-cairned. Roach's description follows the ridge crest to the notch but there's no need to do that.

Foto ©2002 by John C. Maki

The trail leads you to the base of the deep gully in Little Bear's southwest face, known as the Hourglass or the Bowling Alley. Here's where the route becomes serious. The lower part of the gully is wide and the climbing is class 3. After a short distance the gully narrows down and the climbing is class 4 for about 50' or so. The rock is polished by a stream of water that is usually present, but with the drought conditions in Colorado this summer the stream was mostly dried up. Good for climbing, bad for wildland fire conditions; indeed, the smoky haze from fires burning near Durango, Gunnison and other areas to the west filled the air.

After the class 4 Hourglass section the gully widens and becomes class 3 again, most of the way to the summit - maybe 500'. What makes this route so terribly dangerous is that any rock knocked down the gully is funneled down through the narrow Hourglass, and at an alarming rate of speed. To be in the Hourglass section with climbers above would be suicidal, so my emphatic recommendation to any prospective climbers is to climb only on weekdays, and with no climbers above you - period. If you must climb with the crowds, good communication with other parties will help keep someone from getting killed.

Bob and I started up the gully, leap-frogging and taking turns leading and taking pictures to document our progress. The climbing was really fun and we were much relieved that it was not as difficult as we had been led to believe. I scampered up the class 4 section and found a safe place to rest on a ledge while Bob followed. The rock is smooth but hand and foot holds are not difficult to find, and the rock is clean and solid in this section.

Foto ©2002 by John C. Maki

We found the permanent rappel anchor, which was composed of 3 pitons driven into the rock, 2 slings and a descending ring. We dropped the ropes here and continued up the class 3 section toward the summit. As Roach says, this is where your responsibility increases, as loose rocks abound on the ledges above the Hourglass. This section of the climb was longer than I expected, and I tried to be as careful as I could, but I was getting fatigued and I still knocked 2 or 3 good-sized rocks which rifled down through the Hourglass. I think if there had been any other climbers on the route I would have been a lot more careful, but it is exceedingly difficult to avoid loosing some rocks in this section. It would be best to wait for climbers to exit the gully before starting up through the Hourglass. At the top of the gully we followed the ridge north for a short distance and reached the summit at 17:40.

Foto ©2002 by John C. Maki

After all this time and worry I was thrilled to be on Little Bear's summit. It was hard to believe. We signed the register, and I laughed at the sketch of the bear the party from earlier that day had drawn. The views in all directions were astounding; the Sierra Blancas are magnificent peaks joined by a network of narrow connecting ridges from all sides. We looked at the ridge traverse to Blanca Peak with admiration. But we had only won half of the battle; now we must return safely to camp. We started back down the gully at 17:50.

Going down wasn't so bad; I was energized from reaching the summit and from eating a Clif Bar, so it wasn't as difficult to avoid kicking rocks down the gully. The steep sections were easily downclimbed facing out, you can always scoot along on your butt to make it down. I reached the rappel station and waited for Bob.

Foto ©2002 by John C. Maki

We threaded one rope through the slings in the most redundant way possible and tied the ropes together with a rewoven figure-8 and double-fisherman's backups. We chose not to use the ring, though it might have been a good idea since we were using two ropes of different diameter. The friction produced by the rappel device causes the thinner rope to move through the device more quickly, which could conceivably cause the rope to saw through the sling at the anchor. I didn't know this on Tuesday but read about it later. The best solution would be to bring your own descending rings and just add one to the anchor. Anyway, we both felt the anchor was bombproof and we coiled and tossed the ropes down the gully. Of course both halves of the rope got hung up partway down.

I rappelled down first, stopping to pick up and re-toss the rope down a few times until it hung straight down from the anchor. Since this pitch had numerous ledges to stand on fixing the rope as I went was no big deal. I was having a blast rappelling, and soon dropped out of sight from Bob and reached the end of the 50m ropes on a good ledge well past the crux pitch of the Hourglass. What a relief not to have to downclimb this section; I strongly recommend taking a rope along on this climb to ensure a safe and fun descent of this gully. Two 50m ropes are adequate but longer ropes would be even better if you are willing to carry them. I removed the rope from my rappel device and moved well off to the side, then yelled "Off rappel and clear" up to Bob. Bob fixed up a prusik backup for his rappel, which is not a bad idea when rockfall is so prevalent. I got out my camera, grabbed a Clif Bar and waited to Bob to make his way down.

Foto ©2002 by John C. Maki

Bob made it down, removed the rope from his rappel device and untied the knot at the end. I stayed well off to the side and Bob moved out of the fall line of the Hourglass before pulling the ropes down. As the ropes started down a brick-sized rock came barrelling down the gully, missing us easily but underscoring the need to take this gully very seriously. We coiled up the ropes and slung them over our packs and finished descending the gully. It gave me an uneasy feeling to be below the Hourglass in such a vulnerable spot, but upon leaving the gully we moved off to the side and out of danger. The hike along the ridge went quickly even though I found it harder to find the cairns on the return route.

After a not-so-fun descent of the main gully leading from the ridge down to Lake Como, we reached camp at about 20:50, before it started getting dark. The gully has some scree-able spots so it wasn't as bad on the way down as the climb up had been. We filtered some more water and made dinner, then hit the tent for the climb of Blanca and Ellingwood the next day.