It never warmed up to the 60s promised in the forecasts. Tiring of waiting and holding onto the faith of meteorologists' reports, at 11:30 am, I decided it was time for a different plan other than mountain biking.
Hiking seemed a rather mundane choice, but better than not doing anything. Then I remembered this "route" posted on MountainProject. It seemed like a good choice. I remember a few years back Tasha and I trying to find a way up, only to get stopped by barbed-wire fencing.
Mount Morrison is easily seen from any place in Denver. It's the bump above Red Rocks with antenna on top. I parked at the upper circular parking lot at Red Rocks. After reading the start of the trail can be difficult to spot, I stumbled upon it 15 feet from my driver's seat.
Some strange ruin about 200 feet up the trail with Red Rocks behind
Looking up at the midway point of the hike
Funny how the trail looks like it is going down. It actually is a gentle uphill section
So this "route" was beginning to become lame. It's a hike. I'm on a trail, albeit a steep trail that is giving me a good cardio workout. Those cliffs better hold some promise.
Coming to the first outcropping, I wandered off the trail to the lowest one and began scrambling. It is nice solid gneiss and deceivingly tougher than it looked. Much of the bedding was down-sloping. Some nice edges and round knobs though made it fun and doable in my approach shoes.
The "route" was enjoyable enough. A series of 20-30-foot-tall rock-croppings interspersed by grassy benches. Finally I came to one which looked like it would be a challenge to tackle straight on. Slightly overhanging with a semi-detached tower on it, this cliff looked like it had some spice to it. I just underestimated how much.
The first half was easy. Then came a stem across a very blank slab with an overhanging finish. A break partway up proved to be a Fool's Gold area. All the handholds faced down. I grabbed a slightly positive edge, other hand on a slopper, one foot smearing a bump and the other stemming across, toeing an indentation in a dihedral.
And then my good foot blew. It was a strange moment. I could feel gravity pulling at me like a hand trying to pry me away, as opposed to "This is Physics - gravity is all around you, you fall you go down". I know it really doesn't make sense, but it really did feel like a hand grabbing my shoulders.
The other odd thing as I could feel my weight shift perilously towards the jumbled rocks below was the thought which formed in my head. Nothing along the lines of, "Get your foot back on!", nor "Don't fall!", and not even something as base as, "Oh sh*t!".
No my single thought was, "How humiliating would that be. I'm on Mount Morrison of all things."
Suffice to say, I got my left foot back on, scrambled my right foot up putting me in a frog position, hip shift, reach up to a flat edge, and past the difficulties.
The next rock-cropping was the same way. A climb up led to a traverse which led to a foot blowing when the rock crumbled under my weight and I whacked my knees pretty hard into the rock. Smeared the right foot back on, left foot up to a heel hook and reach up to a bomber hold.
Some bedding where a tram rail once went up. You can see the gash in the mountainside from the parking lot
Some more hiking and I was at the top. 40 minutes to go 1,400 vertical feet.
No, apparently I can't put a hat on straight
The views:
Now going down. How to describe the hike down? Mmmm.... ball-bearings, tedious, torturous, and treacherous. Now the following statements will read like hyperbole, but while slowly making my way back I mulled over things and decided these were much better alternatives I have experienced:
• I would rather downclimb vertical scree on Jasper Peak.
• I would rather climb a mountain with a severely sprained ankle.
• I would rather read a Charles Dickens novel.
I nearly bit it countless times with my feet sliding out from underneath me. It took me 50 minutes to get back to the car with a couple of sore knees.
And here's the thing; I'm dumb enough to go do it again. Sometime in the future the awfulness of the hiking down will wear away, the memory will become somewhat frayed and blurry and I will think, "It wasn't THAT bad, was it?"
Actually I would like to try it again with all of the stuff frozen solid and a bit of ice on top.
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