It's all in the advertising

Apparently I didn't get the memo that this weekend was the designated time to get either lost or buried in the mountains. Oh wait! I did get it; it's called the weather & avalanche forecast.

Now I know that time on this realm is finite and I do things many would consider to be risky, such as climb, backcountry ski solo and watch Kenneth Branagh films. However when a storm arrives in the Rockies and decides to sit around for tea and an after-dinner cigar while dumping 3 feet of snow in areas, even I have the common sense to decide, "Maybe I'll sit this one out".

So far we have had two skiers jump the gate at Wolf Creek Ski Area - where it did get 3 feet of snow in 24 hours - and are missing (read: buried); a family of six snowmobiliers in southern Colorado who were found today after missing for two days; a slide near Aspen (where an avy warning was issued) that just missed some backcountry skiers; and two guys who went missing at St. Mary's (a common stomping ground of mine) before walking into Nederland - a town a good 20 miles away as the crow flies, and he wouldn't have been if he had some wits about him.

Now I don't know where those two hikers were heading, but if you have a compass, it's pretty hard to get disoriented enough to end up in Nederland. The worst that can happen is you could drop down the wrong drainage near Alice and have to hoof it back 6 or so miles uphill to your ride. They did manage to stay warm overnight with a fire - a good reminder for me to start carrying a firestarter kit with me.

So with that in mind I went for the subalpine Sunday and went snowshoeing to Maxwell Falls with Tasha. We had been there once before during the summer and actually ran the last bit to our car as a hail storm blew in. It was our first time from the upper trailhead, which shaves off over two miles of the approach to the afore-mentioned falls.


Actually it was ridiculously close to the trailhead.


We were both startled somewhat by the sign as we didn't hear a torrent of water, disrupting the arboreal tranquility with it's cascading cadence.


It wasn't even that there was no falls - it is winter after all - as much as we couldn't even see where there would be falls.

So after the anti-climatic interlude we continued on our journey past some broken-up granite walls, across a stream and up a slope where I remembered we could gain a ridge that would foster some views and some exploratory options. Shaving off some distance, I broke trail up a pristine wooded slope.

Tasha reaching the top of the slope


We found a nice pine to sit under and munch on some lunch before continuing on to what would lead to a saddle between two points. It was pleasant in the muted forest even if views were scarce.

We returned back to our lunch point and down the same slope again where I confirmed my suspicions; this would make a nice tree ski area.



We returned to the stream crossing and went up a trail that would put us atop the granite walls. The outcrops provided a good look back to where we went.

We reached the saddle between the two bumps in the upper center of the photo


The area hosts a myriad of bouldering problems and I expect a pilgrimage back come spring with my crashpad.

Who's that shmuck ruining the photo?


ARTIST OF POST - Incubus. Really enjoy the song and am impressed how every album by this band contains a different flavor than that which was it's predecessor.