Spruce Knob - High Point of West Virginia

We planned a trip to West Virginia: (a) because we'd never been there; and (b) because this appeared to be a good time to catch the fall colors in this beautiful state. The state high point is Spruce Knob, 4,863 feet, in the Seneca Rocks National Recreation Area and Monongahela National Forest, one of the more beautiful parts of the state. And state high points are something I'm interested in. 

It was October 24th, a little late in the fall color cycle, but many of the leaves were still on the trees. We left Sutton for an approximate 2 1/2 hour drive to Spruce Knob. In Riverton, a dot on the map and not much more than that on the ground, we took a paved side road which indicated that Spruce Knob was 12 miles. I was not optimistic of making it all the way. Our drive so far had been a mixture of drizzling rain at times, which turned into snow at higher elevations. I was pretty sure our two wheel drive compact car would get halted by snow and icy conditions at the higher elevation. As we drove, the two lane road transitioned into a one lane road and we felt like Israelites passing through a sea of hard-wood trees. Both on the way up, and the way down, we stopped many times for "just one more picture" of the fall colors that were so breath-taking. 

Two lane road heading up into the mountains.

Amazing fall colors.

Now a one lane road and a joy to drive.

As we get higher, snow starts to accumulate on the ground.

As I feared, the drizzly rain turned into a steady snow as we got higher and the beautiful fall leaves were either covered up by or knocked off the trees by the snow. Heart in mouth, I drove on, fearful that the next bend would present roads too slick or too covered with snow to continue any further. Several times I thought we'd about gone as far as we could, but we kept going. 

As we got higher, we found more snow and fewer leaves on the trees.

More and more snow was sticking to the road.

Hard-wood trees transitioned to spruce. 

Finally, 11 miles up the road we had a turn off to Spruce Knob (the main road continued on to a lake), one more mile to the summit. The road got a little steeper and the snow accumulation greater. Our little car, the engine that could, kept going and we were not slipping and sliding and finally made it. 

Looking at Spruce Knob from the road.

The summit is not a bare point of rock towering over the surrounding terrain, but a parking lot, with an outhouse, some trash bins and a sign welcoming you to the state high point and pointing you to an observation tower 900 feet distant. Spruce trees (thus "Spruce Knob") surround the parking lot obscuring any views, I guess creating the need for the observation tower. 

At the summit.

Judy opted to stay in the car, as the temperature was 24 degrees and snow was covering the ground. I opted for a quick walk to the tower. What views there might be on a clear day were shrouded by the clouds, but I did get a beautiful view down on the snow draped spruce below. For a Southern Californian that does not get into snow often, this was magical. 

A nice place to be when it is 24 degrees outside.

Not the first one to be here today. But we were now alone.

An interesting transition from rocks to trees.

Summit observation tower, framed by spruce.

Looking down on the spruce from the tower.

On our drive back down the mountain we ooed and awwed and stopped for many more pictures and I saw what appeared to be a fisher or mink cross the road. I got out of the car to investigate and saw it go down a hole just off the side of the road. 

We stopped near Seneca Rocks, 20 miles from Spruce Knob, to view the beautiful sentinel from a distance, but opted to continue on as we didn't have time to do any hiking if we wanted to do justice to our last destination. At Seneca Rocks, it was sunny and the temperature was a balmy 47 degrees. What a difference a little elevation can make. 

Seneca Rocks

We drove another 33 miles to Blackwater Falls State Park and into an even thicker snowfall. Fortunately the falls are just a short distance from the road down a nice trail. The falls were magical viewed through the lense of dense snowflakes. It felt like we were inside a little snow-globe and someone had just shaken it. You can see from Judy's hair that the snow was accumulating pretty fast. 

Trail down to Blackwater Falls overlook.

The canyon walls covered in pines and snow.

Blackwater Falls viewed through a living snow-globe.

Christmas come early. One of Santa's cute elves. 

A respite from the falling snow.

We stopped for a view at Pendleton overlook and got a gorgeous view of the Blackwater canyon. 

Blackwater Canyon from Pendleton Overlook

Then while Judy stayed in the car, I opted to hoof it to Lindy Point, supposedly 10 minutes down a four-wheel drive road. I walked 25 minutes without reaching it, and turned around in order not to incur the wrath of my sweetheart waiting in the car.  But again, this Southern Californian enjoyed the walk through this magical white forest with the gently falling flakes and the peaceful surroundings. It felt like Narnia, where is the lamppost? There is nothing quite like the first snow of the year, when the colors of fall are enveloped by the newly fallen, soft, snow, before the snow turns to ice and sludge and bitter cold. 

The road to Lindy Point.

Transition from fall to winter.

A creek crossing made more difficult by low-hanging, snow-covered boughs.

Mount Yale

On August 10th, after doing Quandary Peak and La Plata Peak the prior two days, I got my best start of the trip, on Mount Yale. We were staying in a rented cabin on Main Street in Buena Vista, Colorado, which is also County Road 306. The trailhead at Denny Creek was just 11.5 miles down the same road on the way toward Cottonwood Pass. Judy drove me to the trailhead early and she and Andrew decided to meet me later in the day to do some mushrooming. Fortunately, this trailhead is right off the road. 

Mount Yale, from the Princeton Road near Buena Vista. The saddle I identify later is to the right of the summit.

I started hiking at 7:10 a.m., almost 3 1/2 hours earlier than my start on La Plata and 4 1/2 hours earlier than my start on Quandary. Mt. Yale is 14,196 feet in elevation, the 21st highest peak in Colorado, and ranked 30th in difficulty out of 58 14ers in Colorado by 14ers.com. The trailhead is at 9,900 feet and involved more hiking through the forest than either of the prior two hikes (the Quandary trailhead starts at 10,850 feet and the La Plata trailhead starts at 10,960 feet). The hike is 9.5 miles roundtrip and has 4,300 feet of elevation gain. 

The first mile of hiking was relatively flat. Part way I was passed by a young guy who was really moving along (he passed me again on the way down while I was still going up). Just past the log crossing of Denny Creek, at the 1 mile mark, I noticed mushrooms and made a mental note to call Andrew and tell him about it. In another quarter mile, the Mt. Yale trail junctioned off to the right and I noticed lots of mushrooms over the next several hundred yards. I made another mental note to tell Andrew. At about 11,200 feet I crossed another stream on some logs and the trail started a more steady uphill climb. I passed two guys sitting on a log, then several hundred yards later noticed two people steadily catching up to me. They passed me in the next several hundred yards just as the trees were thinning out about 12,000 feet. 

Mt. Yale was visible steeply above. I was now beyond treeline and passed up and through several large piles of granite, seeing several marmots. Most people love the forest. I enjoy it, but I really love it above treeline. There is something about the clarity of the view, the unobstructed sight, the rarified air, the cool breeze, the silence (except perhaps, the wind, or thunder and lightning), the prospect for high altitude animals (marmots, pika, ptarmigan, mountain goats and bighorn sheep), and the lack of mosquitoes that appeals to me. I always enjoy the portions of my hikes above treeline the most. 

From just above treeline, looking at the trail and the drainage I'd hiked out of below.

The trail heads into the distant green above, then up to the saddle toward the upper right.

The summit of Yale above and the saddle to the left.

I kept a slow, but steady pace. Soon, as the view of the side of the mountain opened up, I could see quite a few people ahead of me. Most of the route was visible now. I could see people at various places along it, high-lighting the path. About 13,200 feet the terrain gets steeper and the next 750 feet of elevation gain is very tough. The trail is good, nothing like the boulder hopping on La Plata, but it is taxing. I was very happy to reach the saddle at 13,900 feet. For some reason I was quite winded and the wind was whipping over the saddle and chilled me. I put on my Northface jacket. I'd misread the route description and thought there was still a significant push ahead. I pulled out my cellphone and tried calling Andrew and Judy - no reception, even though I had a good view of Buena Vista. I piddled around a bit, dreading the exertion ahead through the trailless summit rocks. 

A view out toward the valley and Buena Vista from the saddle.

A view of the granite blocks toward the summit from the saddle.

Fortunately, the description was more foreboding than the reality of it. It talks of finding your "way through any difficulties" and I passed someone on the way down complaining about the number of false summits, saying, "I thought we would never get there." So I was prepared for a long haul and then was pleasantly surprised to find that it came so quickly, nothing compared to the summit haul on La Plata. The ridge stretches out for a ways, so I found an unoccupied spot and called Andrew. He did not answer, so I left a message about where to go to find mushrooms (he got the message only after-the-fact).  I asked someone to take my picture, then returned the favor and started down. 

A view of the summit from my little spot on the ridge - looking back the way I'd already come.

The summit behind me, this time looking from the opposite direction. Mt. Princeton is just to the right of my head.

Mount Harvard, back and left of center, and Mount Columbia, to the right, from the summit. Both are 14ers that Sam and I climbed last year.

Mount Princeton, a 14er that we would unsuccessfully attempt to climb the next day.

Walking from the summit down toward the saddle. 

This one was a nice one to go down. Pretty good trail, not too bad on the knees and the weather was pleasant. I passed a number of people coming up. It was nice not to be the last one up the mountain. Not too far from where I passed the two men sitting on a log, I spied a giant king bolete mushroom on the side of a steep hill. I pulled it up. It was too gorged with water to be any good. But it did focus my attention.

A view of the slope I climbed from near the saddle.

A view of the summit ridge from just below the saddle.

A closer view of the summit ridge from the saddle.

Hikers along the summit ridge give some perspective (they are visible in the picture above this one).

Large king bolete mushroom gorged with water.

I saw a beautiful red bird fly into a pine tree. It allowed me to move around and get pictures. I found out later it was a pine grosbeak, the first one I've ever seen. As I entered the mushroom area I'd identified on the way up, I found lots of inedible mushrooms, but quite a few edible ones, king boletes and hawk wings. After two days of prior mushroom hunting with Andrew, I was good at identifying those two, and comfortable that they were edible. I found one spot where hawk wings were just littering the ground. They are the most beautiful mushrooms I've ever seen. Then I spotted Judy and Andrew. They were in the area I'd identified as a good spot, and they'd found it on their own. I had my hat full of mushrooms and my head beanie full of mushrooms that I'd gathered along the way. It was fun to present them to them. I sat while they went ahead to scout things for awhile, then we started slowly back, looking for mushrooms along the way. We found a particularly good spot near Denny Creek, where we found quite a few king bolete mushrooms and a couple of endangered boreal toads (we didn't know they were endangered until we identified them later in a field guide). 

pine grosbeak

boreal toad

inedible mushrooms

hawk wing mushroom

My beanie full of mushrooms - the large yellowish one on the left is a king bolete and hawk wings are on the right.

My cap with mushrooms. The tail end of a king bolete mushroom is to the left. 

Yale was my favorite of the three Colorado peaks I summited this year. Part of that was I got off to a good start, the weather was good, and I got to spend quite a bit of time with Andrew and Judy looking for mushrooms - and we were quite successful, ultimately having enough for a grand mushroom feast which I'll blog about later. 

La Plata Peak

On Saturday, August 10th, I set out for the southwest ridge route up La Plata Peak, with Judy and Andrew. We stayed in a cabin in Buena Vista Friday night then headed north on U.S. 24 from Buena Vista toward Leadville for about 14 miles, then took the dirt Chaffee County 390 road west. Andrew and I had been down this road two years ago when we did Mount Belford and Mount Oxford. We stopped at that trailhead again, for a bathroom break (7.5 miles down 390), then continued on 390 for another 3.8 miles to Winfield, a very small town consisting of a few cabins. In Winfield we took a right fork and then took a very bumpy dirt road another 1.8 miles to the trailhead (justifying our rental of a Jeep Liberty and turning Judy green in the process - she doesn't like bumpy roads). 

La Plata Peak, center, viewed from Mt. Massive

Closer view of same picture - the southwest ridge comes up from the right. The northwest ridge is in the center of the picture.

Jeep Liberty along the dirt road.

The standard (and far more heavily used) route up La Plata is the northwest ridge. It is accessed by a trailhead just off paved Colorado 82. Aside from much heavier traffic, it is 2.5 miles longer (9.5 miles roundtrip) and involves 1,120 more feet of elevation gain (4,500 total). By comparison, the southwest ridge is 7 miles roundtrip and involves 3,380 feet of elevation gain. We arrived a little before 10:30 a.m. and found about five other vehicles at the trailhead. 

La Plata Peak is 14,336 feet in elevation and is the fifth tallest peak in Colorado (after Elbert, Massive, Harvard and Blanca). Like La Plata, Elbert, Massive and Harvard, which I've done previously, are in the Sawatch Range. La Plata is rated by 14ers.com as the 27th most difficult of the 58 14ers in Colorado. 

The trail follows a small stream, surrounded by forest, uphill. Eventually a plateau is reached with a broad valley situated at over 11,000 feet in elevation. The valley has a few small ponds in it and is full of swampy ground and willows. It looks like ideal moose country, although unfortunately I did not see any. The trail meanders through the willows, quite muddy in spots, over to the south edge of the valley to get on firmer ground, then heads east toward La Plata which is partially visible at the head of the valley. Toward the head of the valley, the trail veers north across the valley, on slightly firmer ground, and then goes steeply up the side of the valley wall. The trail through this section gets very loose. I found a small mine opening, where I took a short break (about 12,500 feet in elevation), and marveled at the fortitude of the miners who worked these kinds of mines so far out of the way and so high in elevation.  

Trail - almost to the valley.

The La Plata massif is visible in the back, center. The peak is not visible.

Looking back at the valley. Willows and swampy ground visible.

Toward the head of the valley. Route up the wall is about center of the picture.

Bottom portion of trail is visible. It eventually reaches the top at the low point in the ridge, just left of center.

Mine opening.

View of the valley below from the mine.

View of the valley from the top of the ridge.

At the top of the valley wall, about 12,800 feet, the trailed veered east and up some rock until a gradual incline met a rather formidable looking 1,000 plus foot steep pile of granite rocks, stacked on top of each other. Negotiating the rock up that wall was by far the hardest part of the hike. There are numerous routes marked through the rocks by rock cairns (rocks stacked on top of each other), but when you are going up, the trails just seem to stop, then pick up somewhere else, with no seeming rhyme or reason to them. I did find that on the way down the routes were much easier to follow, the result of a better vantage point. I knew from talking to several other hikers that the summit was about 35 to 45 minutes once I got to the top of the wall.

Trail just above the valley wall.

La Plata massif ahead.

Over 1,000 feet of granite rock to get to the top of this hill. The hardest part of the hike.

The top of the wall is about 14,000 feet and the summit is up a hogs back ridge, the last of three humps. Instead of sticking to the ridge, I took a more direct approach which involved some elevation loss which I had to regain. Possibly a mistake. I could see a number of people standing on the summit and several other people on the hump before the summit, but I had the summit all to myself by the time I got there, the second day in a row that happened.

View back down the mountain from the way I'd come. The trail is visible near the edge or the rim.

Mt. Massive in the distance - center.

Zoomed in on Mt. Massive - 2nd tallest mountain in Colorado.

Summit of La Plata Peak visible from the top of the hill. Picture taken at about 14,000 feet.

Zoomed in on the summit (back right). People visible.

Summit rocks.

View from the summit.

Self-portrait on the summit.

I found the most courageous pika I've ever seen in the dip between the last hump and the summit and got quite close for some head-on pictures. At the summit I found a large marmot that did not seem too concerned with me. I did not spend long before turning around and heading back down.

Cute little pika.

Only found at high elevations. Very difficult to get a good look at them.

Marmot letting its kin know I'm in the area.

The hike down the granite was substantially easier than the hike up. As indicated earlier, the trails were easier to follow and gravity created most of the inertia.

Backward glance at the La Plata massif on the way down.

The upper valley in afternoon light. Thankful for the good weather.

Andrew and Judy did not have as much success on the mushroom front as they did the day before at Quandary Peak. But if was a pleasant day after the rain and hail of the day before.