I've gotten more than I bargained for already

It was a 3-Advil trip. And the litmus count would be higher if I wasn't afraid of feeling worst by taking five.

I want a hot tub and an IV. I am whooped and in a sadistic way, quite content with that.

I returned to the Indian Peaks to complete some unfinished business. The last time I was here, I had the binding issues.

This time I had some of the worst snow conditions I've had the misfortune of skiing in. And only a stubborn idiot like myself would continue.

Devil's Thumb Loop - roughly 8 miles. Took a few detours to check out some slopes for clicking down the heels action. However with the warmth and the solar energy coming down like frickin laser beams, snow was sliding pretty badly on the steeps.

A Ryan "shortcut"


Deteriorating slope. It took closer scrutiny to determine this SE-facing slope was just slush. I got lashed severely making my way through the vegetated palisade in the foreground.


I had to portage the sticks about four times, walking on either bare ground or ice while hefting the skis. It got annoying, especially on the way out when I was beyond "bonk" stage.

Took a break at the trail junction to Devil's Lake. There was a nice rock ramp to perch on and eat some food.

Looking at the nearby Continental Divide. Well it was nearby at my turnaround point.


I had gone 2 1/2 miles more or less in an hour & 15 minutes. From that point on, I was breaking trail as nobody went further. I can now kinda understand how people get lost in this area. If you don't keep your wits about you, a person could get disoriented.

I lost the "trail" many times because, well, there were no markings on trees showing the path. I would usually find it and then dispatch from it again before crossing it again. Wasn't too concerned. I had Bryan Mountain and then Woodland Mountain on my left as a guideline and Chittenden Mountain and Jasper Creek on my right.

WHAT I didn't count on was missing the junction for the trail to loop back. I kept on heading towards Devil's Pass. Finally looking around, I realized things weren't jiving with what I remembered from the topo map. Devil's Thumb was way too close.

Jasper Peak on the right. You can read my shocking trip to the summit here.



So I did what you're supposed to do, I turned around. After about 10 minutes I saw my error. I completely missed this mostly-buried sign.


Now for a bit, my skis were getting sluggish and my legs were getting tired. The snow was liquid goop, collecting copiously on top of my skis and then refreezing to create a nice load.

Also my skins had over-saturated and then froze. So I had chunks of ice on the bottom, negating any glide I might get. After crossing Jasper Creek, where the return trail went was anybody's guess. I just picked a way that made sense to me.

I stopped a few minutes in, took a break and proceeded to attend to the skis. This was just getting to be painful. I stripped of the snow and let the sun melt off the crud on the skins. A big wedge of ice formed on both skis at the tip under the skins. This required more maintenance.

After a little more I had enough with the crappy snow and my beaten-up skins. I knew from the topo -- and by what I came up -- I should gradually be heading down.

Well cross-country in the Indian Peaks doesn't live up to topo maps. After stripping the skins I made some good downhill time -- crossing over and skiing on top of frozen-over Jasper Creek.

Then came the inclines...

And the willow thickets...

And the frozen killer waves of snow...

And then boulders, close-spaced trees, downed logs, gaping pitfalls... you get the picture.

It was beyond taxing and it was slow going.

Finally the skins came back on as I was doing more up and down then down. And then I came to the trail. It was quite easy to spot.

Where's the bloody snow?!


There was more ski carrying, and then more chaotic terrain. I know better than to travel cross-country in the area. It's some of the more rugged topo in the state.

Finally I hit the return loop. It was 2+ agonizing miles back to the truck.

The slush has frozen in the evening chill. Yum!


As challenging and frustrating the return part was, and here is my sadistic side, I would do the same damn thing again. I was in a beautiful area, deep into the wilderness and aside from fatigue, dehydration and some pretty good raw spots on my shins from my boots, I was fine.