photoleif
Observer
I hosted David (oly884) at my place last weekend. Big thanks to him for driving 700 miles each way to come visit. He got a kayak out of the deal, but still it was big of him to come to visit. We had a great time and wanted to share some pix and shared narration with you of our 4-wheeling and camping. We spent our time in Trails Illustrated maps 102 and 103.
This was at our camp the first night. We drove up a road that goes to an old ski area that was operating in the 1940s but is now long since closed. The moon was wonderfully diffuse with the light clouds.
The next day after a typical camp breakfast of Mountain House apple crunch with a fresh peach chopped into it, we headed south toward Rollins Pass, a very old crossing now closed to westbound traffic due to a collapsed tunnel. Those starting on the west side of the divide apparently can continue to access the pass. I've been turned around twice by snowdrifts well into July.
At the start of the Rollins Pass road.
This is on the way up. The closed tunnel is at the end of the road, on the right. Getting here was a bit more, um, interesting than we had expected. What we thought was a nice shortcut turned into a nice trek though just about every kind of plant that can scrape the crap out of your legs!
Hillside we scrambled down to return to the trucks. We saw lightning so thought a retreat from above treeline would be in order. The whole getting electrocuted thing sucks from what I've heard.
Someone drove their buggy up the road. This thing was just mean.
A back-road to mark off the map and cut a couple miles of highway driving en route to the unknown.
Kingston Peak road, aka “the unknown”. The mountain ahead is James Peak, at 13,294'. We actually sat here waiting for a vehicle inching our way. Turns out, yes, there are people who should not be allowed on trails as such…
Survived the wait, and the traverse, to have a beer and set up camp at 11,600. The clouds continued to gather while we boiled potatoes for dinner.
This cloud wrapped around James Peak and kept on building. It reminded me of how the clouds crawl around mountains at Machu Picchu. We could tell the rain was about to let loose. Twenty minutes later it started and didn't let up all night. The wind gusted to over 50 mph and rocked the trucks. It felt like being on a boat, almost. There were apparently some campers in tents down a trail nearby… I'd hate to have been in even a 4-season Walrus with the fabric flapping furiously all night – I dealt with that once at Petrified NM one April – I was later told that's exactly the time you don't want to visit there due to the wind.
On to part 2...
This was at our camp the first night. We drove up a road that goes to an old ski area that was operating in the 1940s but is now long since closed. The moon was wonderfully diffuse with the light clouds.
The next day after a typical camp breakfast of Mountain House apple crunch with a fresh peach chopped into it, we headed south toward Rollins Pass, a very old crossing now closed to westbound traffic due to a collapsed tunnel. Those starting on the west side of the divide apparently can continue to access the pass. I've been turned around twice by snowdrifts well into July.
At the start of the Rollins Pass road.
This is on the way up. The closed tunnel is at the end of the road, on the right. Getting here was a bit more, um, interesting than we had expected. What we thought was a nice shortcut turned into a nice trek though just about every kind of plant that can scrape the crap out of your legs!
Hillside we scrambled down to return to the trucks. We saw lightning so thought a retreat from above treeline would be in order. The whole getting electrocuted thing sucks from what I've heard.
Someone drove their buggy up the road. This thing was just mean.
A back-road to mark off the map and cut a couple miles of highway driving en route to the unknown.
Kingston Peak road, aka “the unknown”. The mountain ahead is James Peak, at 13,294'. We actually sat here waiting for a vehicle inching our way. Turns out, yes, there are people who should not be allowed on trails as such…
Survived the wait, and the traverse, to have a beer and set up camp at 11,600. The clouds continued to gather while we boiled potatoes for dinner.
This cloud wrapped around James Peak and kept on building. It reminded me of how the clouds crawl around mountains at Machu Picchu. We could tell the rain was about to let loose. Twenty minutes later it started and didn't let up all night. The wind gusted to over 50 mph and rocked the trucks. It felt like being on a boat, almost. There were apparently some campers in tents down a trail nearby… I'd hate to have been in even a 4-season Walrus with the fabric flapping furiously all night – I dealt with that once at Petrified NM one April – I was later told that's exactly the time you don't want to visit there due to the wind.
On to part 2...
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