Mount Sneffels: Wrighting a Wrong

I previously detailed a trip into the Yankee Boy Basin to climb Mount Sneffels that ended with Dave Kenison and I attempting to climb the wrong mountain. Nearly 17 years later, on August 10, 2009, we decided to try again. It was a busy weekend. On Friday, Dave's daughter, Sarah, married Brian Wright. On Saturday, with Judy and the Wrights, we climbed Mt. Timpanogas. Sunday afternoon we got in Dave's truck and headed for Ouray and the Yankee Boy Basin. Around 11:30 p.m., after nearly a two hour drive up the horribly rutted 8 mile road, we stopped and slept in the back of Dave's truck. The road was much worse than it was 17 years ago. In fact, as I looked at pictures afterward, I was shocked to see we drove farther last time than this time. The next morning, we drove a little further and parked...

right next to the spur trail for (appropriately) Wright's Lake and Blue Lakes Pass.

Because our trip into the Basin was in the dark, I'd forgotten Sneffels was at the right side of the end of the Basin. For a few moments, I was thinking that Gilpin Peak, below, was Sneffels.

Along the trail we found some beautiful columbine flowers.

Dave said he'd never seen them with the underlying blue on them like these had.

As we rounded a hill the hill to the right, we encountered Wright's Lake...

...and we caught our first glimpse of Mount Sneffels. A sight for sore eyes. The standard route follows the scree up to the saddle, just to the right of Dave (the well-worn path is visible), then goes left up a couloir to the summit. The southwest ridge route starts at the far left, goes behind the spires up the ridge, goes through the notch just under half way up, then follows the ridge-line to the summit. We decided to go up the southwest ridge and then go down the standard route.

Below, a picture of Wright's Lake from the summit. The visible road is the jeep road to the trailhead. We did not make it that far, we are parked further below. The trail we were on came up the hill at the point where Wright's Lake is, went around Wright's Lake and then off to the right out of the picture.

A closer look at the spires at the beginning of the southwest ridge, up to the notch.

On the way up to Blue Lakes Pass, looking south at Gilpin Peak. Gilpin Peak is apparently a class 2 hike following this ridge.

Dave getting closer to Blue Lakes Pass.

From the summit, looking down at Blue Lakes Pass. The trail we followed is visible.

From Blue Lakes Pass, looking up the southwest ridge. We walked up just to the left of the spires and ultimately followed the ridge to the summit. I was excited and a little nervous. I've not done a lot of class 3 climbing. This was to be my first experience following a narrow ridge to a summit.

Dave begins the hike up the rocks.

Part way up, Mark Murray, a climber we met from Colorado Springs, takes a rest.

Mark, who has climbed about 40 of Colorado's 54 fourteeners, led most of the way. It was fun to ask him about his various climbs. He continued up the ridge.

Mark gets closer to the notch.

Dave and a beautiful backwards glance view of our route, so far, up the ridge.

Mark, right before the notch. The notch is to the right of Mark. We eventually took the chute above Mark, that is visible below the summit peak. We looked to the left for an alternative route...

and found a straight cliff.

We climbed down into the notch, then up and into the chute that led us up to the ridge.

At the top of the chute.

Another view of Wright's Lake and the south side of Sneffels.

Dave and Mark (further up) on the rock beyond the notch.

To the east, we got a good view of the saddle on the standard route.

Dave, very near the ridgeline, with the summit visible in the background.

Dave, in the rocks, very near the summit.

Going for it. I walked about 50 yards along the ridgeline and it was a thrill. Views off to my right and my left were spectacular. However, I kept my mind on the trail to avoid getting nervous about the exposure.

Mark, at or near the summit, took our picture as we approached.

Dave and I on the summit. What a gas! This was my favorite climbing experience ever. I've not had a lot of class 3 climbing experience and the entire southwest ridge is virtually class 3. I did not feel that there was a great amount of exposure, but there was enough to get my heart and adrenaline pumping.

Dave and Mark on the summit.

Some views back down the way we'd just come.

The groomed slopes of Telluride Ski Resort are visible on the other side of the ridge to the left of center.

Blue Lakes Basin below. Uncompahgre Peak, over 14,300 feet, is left of center on the ridge. Mark had climbed it before and it has a class 2 route to the summit (from the other side).

From the summit, looking at the saddle on the standard route, our next destination.

After leaving the summit, looking back up the way we'd just come. Another climber is barely visible going up the ridge to the left. He was in a group of what appeared to be six climbers. One person beat us to the top (per the summit register). The standard route is supposed to be a hard class 2, but this last portion appears to be class 3 to me.

A closer view of the other climbers following the ridgeline to the summit, the way we'd just come.

One more view of the other climbers.

Our next trick was to get into the couloir that leads to the saddle. Mark went in higher than we did. He did so over some steep rock. Dave and I decided to go lower as it appeared Mark was going to have to negotiate some snow. From that vantage point, Mark took this picture of Dave looking into the couloir from below.

Dave going down the rock, looking for a lower entrance into the couloir.

The couloir, from where we found a lower entry point, and the saddle below.

We climbed down the rocks below into the couloir. Dave went straight ahead into the main part of the couloir, which was a better move. I went to the right, through a narrow chute, which proved to be very steep and unstable. I ended up knocking down a bunch of loose rock on the poor people coming up from below. As a result, it was much slower going for me on the way down.

The hiking was much better as I got into the rocks and went boulder hopping down the couloir. Even then, there was the occasional loose rock. Looking back up the couloir. The chute I came down is visible to the left (I went in just below the visible snow). The main chute is to the right.

Looking down the couloir to the saddle. Dave is below me on the right side of the couloir.

Looking back up the couloir from farther down. The side chute is no longer visible.

Looking down again, Dave is now at the saddle, getting ready to go down the nasty scree.

Another look up the couloir, this time from the saddle, on the other side of the rock mound in the middle of the saddle.

The worst part of the hike was going down the scree from the saddle to the bottom. I'm really glad we did not go up this way. From the pictures you can get the sense that the well-worn trail up to the saddle is bereft of much loose scree. In places the scree is minimal, the ground is very hard and slippery, and once you start to slide it is hard to stop. I initially sat down on my tail and started to slide. I quickly gave up on that idea. Not only would it have worn a hole in the pants on my backside, there was no way to stop (unlike in snow where you can use an ice axe or trekking pole as a brake). I found myself avoiding bare spots and looking for the loose scree. Turning sideways, I could slide, using my trekking poles for balance and the scree helped to provide a brake to stop. Below, Dave below me. He said later he'd fallen twice on the way down, and like me, had a hard time stopping.

Looking back up that nasty hill.

The picture below, of the saddle on the main route, was taken from a distance earlier in the day. It evidences the well-worn trails up to and down from the saddle. Most of the people we saw going up were staying to the left side in the heavier scree outside of the well-worn area.

Once back to the truck and on the way back out of the Yankee Boy Basin, we got a good look at Potosi Peak, the mountain we'd attempted 17 years ago.

We stopped to take a photo of a waterfall, with Sneffels in the background.

I have virtually the same photo from our trip 17 years ago, but then Sneffels was blanketed in white and we'd not been to the top of it.

Someone on a quad stopped to tell us that this was the waterfall on the Coors beer can. I got a couple of pictures of waterfalls from a Coors stein...

and the logo from Coors Light. From what I could decipher, there have been several different waterfalls over the years on the Coors logo and none appear to have been the waterfall on Sneffels Creek.

Further down the Basin, we encountered the Ruby (I believe) Mine, now a ruin, but at one time employed about 90 people.

A closer view of the ruins.

Well, Sneffels has now been conquered. It was a lot of fun and whetted my appetite for some more Colorado fourteeners.

Yankee Boy Basin: Sneffels, Where Art Thou?

On October 29, 1992, my brother-in-law, David Kenison, and I, drove to the Yankee Boy Basin, outside of Ouray, Colorado, in an attempt to climb Mount Sneffels, a fourteener at 14,150 feet. Dave, now living in Orem, Utah, had lived in Longmont, Colorado for a number of years and had previously climbed a number of fourteeners. This was my first one.

We drove late Friday evening into the Yankee Boy Basin and camped in the back of Dave's Blazer. Snow had dusted the area at higher elevations and a storm was on the way. We woke up Saturday morning, October 30th, and it was very overcast. We had a printout from a book of hikes with a poor figure drawing of a map and we were surrounded by the giant peaks of the Yankee Boy Basin, trying to figure out which of them was Mount Sneffels. Below, clouds cover up the far end of the Yankee Boy Basin, making it difficult to determine which of the mountains was the highest (Sneffels).

We made our best guess and began to climb. What we thought was Sneffels turned out to be Potosi Peak, a 13,786 foot mountain nearby. Potosi is known for its steep, loose, talus slopes and rotten, imposing cliffs. Below, Potosi, as later seen from farther back in the Yankee Boy Basin.

We began to climb a very loose, talus slope, covered with a film of new snow. It was extremely slick and it was nerve wracking climbing up, with a fear that a slip would send us hurtling down the chute. Below, Dave climbs down the chute after having previously climbed it.

A closer view of Dave climbing down the chute and the loose talus.

Dave at the top of the loose talus chute.

We got about halfway up the mountain, to the top of some grass before another level of steep cliffs. We decided to cut the trip short. We realized by then we were probably on the wrong mountain (the visibility was improving) and we were very concerned for our safety if we went any higher up the steep cliffs. Below, looking up toward the summit.

Another view of the summit.

The picture below shows the path we took through the loose talus. We then made it to the top of the grass, the solid snow patch at mid-level.

Another view of Potosi Peak from farther back in Yankee Boy Basin.

After climbing back down, we decided to venture further into the basin. We then correctly determined that Mount Sneffels was further back in the basin and we were able to drive closer to it. Mount Sneffels is to the rear right.

From left to right, Teakettle, Cirque and Potosi Peaks in Yankee Boy Basin.

We parked much closer to Sneffels and got a pretty good view of it.

We hiked up closer and found the base of Sneffels, but the top was shrouded in clouds.

Another view of the base of Sneffels, the southwest ridge rocks visible to the back left.

Gilpin Peak, to the south, was still visible.

We did not have time to climb Sneffels and decided it would have to happen another day. That other day did not happen for 17 years, the subject of another post. On the way out of Yankee Boy Basin, we saw some beautiful country and the road took a spectacular route under an overhanging cliff with a steep river canyon to the side.

We went into Ouray and spent some time window shopping before heading back to Utah.

My next attempt at a fourteener, also with Dave, was White Mountain, the next summer. We got caught in a snow storm in August and had to turn back. After that climb Dave commented that it was all my fault that we weren't getting to the top of these fourteeners. I was bad luck. Fortunately, we were able to do several fourteeners several days later (Langley, Muir and Whitney).

Polka Polish

About six years ago, after Sam received his mission call to Poland, I scoured the internet for a Polish restaurant so that we could have a Polish experience before Sam went there. There were only two in all of Los Angeles. We went to Polka Polish, located at 4112 Verdugo Road in Eagle Rock, right next to Glendale. We have been hooked since.

Polka is located in an ugly, somewhat scary, strip mall and is barely noticeable from the street. It has a very small dining area that only fits about 40 people max. But all of that is forgotten when you start to eat. The food tastes as though you have been invited to a Polish neighbor's to eat. It is heavy, stick to your ribs goodness.

My very favorite part of the meal is the soup. I'm not normally a soup person, but Polka's soup is incredible. It is not Weight Watcher soup. It is thick and tasty. Nothing that good is good for you. I've never had soup there I haven't loved. My very favorite is the tomato soup, but I've only had it a couple of times. This last Saturday, we visited on the way to take Andrew back to Westwood. Polka had just been featured on the Food Network program, Diner's, Drive-ins and Dives, and there was a line outside waiting to get in. We joined the line and it took us over an hour to get in. We had a soup we've not had before: dill and pickle soup. It did not disappoint.

Next they bring you a small salad. The salad invariably has grated carrot on top, a little lettuce, likely some cabbage, and some kind of a vinegary or sweet dressing. It is not great, but not bad.

I had bigos and may possibly be able to claim some responsibility for it on the menu. While on his mission, Sam wrote us about bigos and how much he liked it. I called Polka and asked if they had it. It was not on the menu, but they said they could cook it for me, but I was warned I would probably not like it. I had it and did and the next time we went it was on the menu. Bigos is a mixture of Polish sausage, stewed sauerkraut (but not as vinegary or strong as store-bought), mushrooms and chunks of pork. It also had some side mashed potatoes with dill.

One of the very best menu items is pierogis, kind of like large ravioli. They have three kinds: (1)pork and chicken; (2) sauerkraut and stewed mushrooms; and (3) potatoes and cheese. The potatoes and cheese are our favorite, but they are all good. We ordered four pierogis on the side.

Judy had kielbasa, broiled Polish sausage. She got the spicy kind and it is very good. It came on a plate with corn, cooked carrots and mashed potatoes.


Andrew got the Royal Plate which gave him some choices. He got two pierogis, golabki (stuffed cabbage with pork & chicken, potatoes and onion), and gulasz (beef stew).

Finally, in addition to the small dessert they normally provide as part of the meal, we got nalesniki, crepes filled with sour-cherries and cheese, topped with flaming whipped cream and shaved chocolate. Very, very good.

As usual, we left stuffed.

Polka is now getting quite a reputation and can be difficult to get in to. With that, the prices have also risen. But it is worth the effort and trouble to go there and remains one of our very favorite restaurants.

Mission San Gabriel

This is a continuation of my retracing George Q. Cannon's 1849 journey.

On Monday, January 14, 1850, the Hunt company, which had merged with the Rich company, and included George Q. Cannon, “struck tents” at their campsite near the San Gabriel River, about 9:00 a.m., on a “clear and frosty” morning. They traveled six miles until they arrived at the Mission San Gabriel. Charles Rich felt it was the “most beautiful location” in the area. Henry Bigler noted that the Mission, which had been partially deserted since the Mexican War, was “[b]uilt of adobes…[,] covered with tile” and had five bells. It had a “large vineyard and beautiful gardens.” Howard Egan noted that “some of the fields” were “fenced in with prickly p[ea]r” cactus “planted in rows” and growing from “5 to 25 feet high.” Olive trees were “bending with their fruit” and oranges and lemons were on the trees, although they were “not quite ripe.” Henry Bigler “g[a]thered a quantity of olive stones to take back to Salt Lake to plant.” After resting for two hours, they traveled another three miles to camp: a nice spot, but wood was “very scarce.”

The Mission San Gabriel Arcangel was the fourth California mission to be built, founded in 1771. It had the first orange grove in California, planted by the Franciscans from Valencia orange cuttings brought from Spain. It also had olive, Spanish fig, plum, peach and pomegranate trees and vineyards. The Mission produced food and hides and was a supply post. In 1834, the Mission was secularized and its assets, including 12,980 cattle and thousands of acres of land, were taken by the government headed by Pio Pico. In 1843, 7 years before George Q. Cannon visited, the Franciscans were again allowed to run the church, but everything of value had been removed. Later, in 1862, the Mission and some adjacent land was restored to the Catholic Church by an act of the U.S. Congress.

In August 1857, Henry Miller, making a tour of the California missions, said the following about Mission San Gabriel: “The Mission… forms… a little village… The Mission Church is well preserved,… a peculiar style different from the other churches. The other buildings, however, are dilapidated or totally in ruins. Near the buildings are very long hedges of prickly pears, now full of ripe fruit, which have been planted by the missionaries round their vineyards and orchards.”

Today, the Mission San Gabriel is located at 428 S. Mission Drive in San Gabriel, California, 1.5 miles west of the I-10 freeway off the New Ave exit. The Mission is distinguished by its beautiful wall of bells. The following picture is from Wikipedia.

Also from Wikipedia, this shows how Mission San Gabriel looked around 1900.


My pictures of the bells, from the outside.

The bells from the inside.

When I visited, I was intrigued by the room where grapes were crushed and eventually turned into wine. The sign in the room indicates that the grapes were crushed into a tank and left to ferment. When fermentation was complete, the juice was drawn off and put into sulphured barrels to age. The pulp was then pressed and either distilled into brandy or barreled as wine. The most popular wine was claret, a red wine from the Mission of Zinfandel variety of grape. White wine was made from the Muscat of Alexandria variety. Harvested grapes were brought into the winery and the Gabrieleno Indians stomped the grapes until the juice seeped through the four holes in the winery wall and into outer troughs. A cannon in the gardens which may have been there when Cannon visited.

Some of the information for this post came from: Crampton, C. Gregory, and Madsen, Steven K. In Search of the Spanish Trail: Santa Fe to Los Angeles, 1829-1848, Layton: Gibbs M. Smith. 1994, p. 123; and Miller, Henry, Account of a Tour of the California Missions & Towns 1856: The Journal & Drawings of Henry Miller (Bellerophon Books, Santa Barbara: 2000), pp. 48-49.

Buffalo Ribs

Several months ago, while visiting Andrew in Westwood, we stopped by Whole Foods and found some buffalo ribs marinated with barbeque sauce. I had barbequed buffalo ribs twice last fall in Estes Park, Colorado, on a trip to climb Longs Peak. They were wonderful, so I couldn't pass these up. Below, the marinated but uncooked ribs.

We've also been into cooking peppers on the barbeque, so we purchased some red peppers as well.

The cooked ribs.

We took the outer skin off the red peppers and put goat cheese on a portion and potato salad on another portion. It was a nice complement to the buffalo ribs. Buffalo has a distinctive taste, which I like, and it is not as fatty as beef. The ribs were very good, but a little stringy.

We have recently tried some barbequed pork ribs where we boil the ribs for about an hour, in barbeque sauce, then put them on the grill for seven minutes on each side. Next time I have the opportunity, I'm going to try that with buffalo or beef ribs as well. I suspect it will make them more tender and even better than the way I've been doing it.