I’ll be honest – I don’t like people! Well actually, I don’t dislike all people all the time. My antisocial tendencies only really kick in when I’m seeking solitude and escape from civilization. When I’m in the wilderness I don’t want to see anyone else. Selfishly (and unrealistically) I want it all for myself! Fortunately my lovely bride (and fellow lover of solitude) knows this about me and supports my occasional antisocial behavior. In fact, a while back we collaborated to come up with the perfect introvert backpacking trip. We planned to spend several days roaming off trail in the Grenadier mountains in the already remote Weminuche wilderness of southwestern Colorado. It was everything an introvert could hope for.
We started our trip in the parking lot at the Molas trailhead waiting for heavy rain to move out of the area. We’re not made of sugar and history has proven that we won’t melt if we get wet. But still – all evidence to the contrary – we are neither sadistic nor masochistic. As the day wore on, we (endlessly) weighed our options – bag it and start tomorrow, or just go for it? The forecast called for better weather the next day, but we were ready to go today. Finally we got a little break in the rain and decided to head out. The “on trail” portion of our trip took us down to the Animas River, and then up Elk Creek as far as the “Beaver Ponds.” As expected we slogged through some heavy downpours. Fortunately these were interspersed with bits of sunshine.
The real fun began the next day. Up, and up and up into the Vestal basin below Arrowhead Peak, the amazing Wham ridge on Vestal, and farther up – the Trinity Peaks. We got to the end of the trail (our goal) and just kept heading up the valley until we found a nice camp spot in a high meadow. One might assume, that after a long day we’d both be ready to spend the remaining hours before bed just lounging around camp. One might…and one would assume incorrectly. Sharon decided to go exploring in the direction of Wham ridge and made it to the base. I was content sitting around until Sharon shamed me with her energy. I thought I’d head up just to the top of the small ridge above our camp. Of course, there was another slightly higher ridge that promised an even better view…and so on, until I was able to get a good look at our route for the next day.
Our plan for the next several days was to continue off trail. Next day would be a short day, heading over the unnamed, but informally and aptly named “No Pass Pass” or “Gnarly Ass Pass” and descend to Trinity Lake. Then we would find our way over two passes in order to camp near Leviathan Lake to the south. From Leviathan we would make our way down valley to pick up a major trail that would eventually take us north to Highland Mary Lakes, and then out to our car. That was the plan. Of course, as always, subject to change.
Next morning, No Pass Pass was the first obstacle. When we scrambled up a boulder and scree slope and got our first good look, it was a bit intimidating. When we watched a mountain goat slip on the loose rocks as he made his way over the pass, it didn’t do much for our confidence. But as usual, delirious optimism won the day. As is often the case, reality wasn’t nearly as bad as perception. As we dropped down to the beautiful Trinity Lake, a gnarly, nasty monsoon storm followed us over Gnarly Ass Pass. Even though we hadn’t gone far, Trinity Lake suddenly looked like an excellent place to set up camp.
The route to Leviathan Lake was pretty spectacular. Still plenty of snow up high, even in July. The real challenge though, came as we attempted to descend to Leviathan. Our topo map showed steep terrain, but plenty of possible routes down. This time reality offered up a swift kick to our backsides. We spent several hours working our way down one promising route after another, only to have each cliff out. Which of course meant climbing back up a steep mountain side in search of another possible route. As afternoon turned to early evening, we were starting to get a little concerned. Finally we saw a possible chink the mountain armor. Naturally it required more climbing and a long traverse. When at last we came to a small flat spot, the only one we’d seen in hours, we decided to just call it quits for the day. A brief reconnaissance revealed a place where it looked like we’d be able to descend. With that worry off our minds, we set about enjoying one of the remote, scenic camp spots ever.
Day five was turned out to be a beautiful, relaxing and challenging day all rolled into one. The descent required some serious route finding, but we eventually made our way down 800′ to Leviathan Lake. The word ‘blue’ really doesn’t do justice to Leviathan Lake. One is moved to do a synonym search to find a more appropriate descriptor. Azure possibly? Cerulean perhaps? Beautiful definitely!
After a break spent on the shoreline enjoying the views, we dropped another 500′ to a smaller lake. Since we’d gotten an early start and were making good time, and since the views were so spectacular, we decided to spend a few hours at this lake relaxing, reading, chatting, and exploring.
Unfortunately, time waits for no one. The time came for us to leave our little paradise and return to the trails and people below. With the possible exception of our previous day’s difficulties, wandering about above timberline is a joy. Wandering about below timberline is a chore. With no trail to follow, and no direction to go other than “down” we began to make our way to the valley floor. Enough to say that it was tough going. Eventually we came across little snippets of trail scattered about in the woods. Gradually the little snippets joined together to form a real trail leading us a crossing of Vallecito Creek. Once across, we were back to established trails and back to what we thought of as “civilization” … even though it was still far removed in the middle of a wilderness area. The previous days of off trail travel had delivered on the promise of solitude.
Day six was a long day north along the Vallecito trail, across on a stretch of the Continental Divide Trail, eventually bringing us to the Highland Mary lakes. While the trail was beautiful in its own right and passed through some lovely terrain, it suffered only by comparison to the sublime heights from which we had just descended. Incessant forward motion carried us thirteen long miles over passes and through valleys. The Highland Mary Lakes were a welcome sight.
As usual, our last day was bittersweet. Obviously we looked forward to something other than trail food. A hot shower is always welcome. Seeing family in Durango is always a joy. Days in the wilderness however, bring a special satisfaction that is unmatched in civilization. Thanks Weminuche, for a wet, wild and wonderful week!
