Drift Peak III:

Third Time's the Charm

Drift on the approach in the early morning. Our route climbs the steep wall on the extreme right, then traverses the lumpy ridge and ascends the southern summit. (JF)

It's getting to be a tradition; early winter rolls around and I head out to Mayflower Gulch to get my seasonal reminder of what winter mountains are all about. Twice now I've attempted Drift Peak and twice I've been sent packing less than half way up. On our first attempt, Amy, Davide, and I floundered through deep snow while attempting to climb the NW face of Drift. On our second attempt, Amy and I joined Fabio, Andy, Nelson, and Peter on an attempt of the Villa Ridge, but were again flumoxed by 3' of gorgeous, fresh powder. Amy and I turned around before gaining the ridge proper, but even the others turned back shy of 13,000'. All of us had a score to settle with this innocent-looking, 13,900' snowdrift!

We assembled a strong and highly motivated team of folks from Summit Post. Andy, Nelson, Fabio and I have climbed together many times and we were joined by Jeff and Dan, a pair of geologists who had been repulsed by Drift earlier this year. Conditions were definitely not optimistic; there had been a foot of new snow in the last week (less than on my previous attempts), but the forecast called for a high of 5 degrees and sustained 20 mph winds (gusting to 40)--frigidly cold for a route we already knew was a lot harder than it looked. Add to this a personal feeling of Holiday Season malaise, a sore knee, and a generally defeatist attitude, and I put my personal chances of summiting at about one in four. I announced that this would be my third and final attempt on Drift; galling as it would be to fail three times in a row, it was time to persue other goals.

Nevertheless, we came loaded for bear. We met at the Mayflower Gulch TH at 7 am and headed up the familiar trail. Fortunately, it was already packed down from skiers the days before so we were able to cover 1.5 miles, half the way to the summit (at least horizontally!), quickly and without snowshoes. After this, we turned and ascended the steepening slopes to the top of Gold Hill in deep powder. Dan, young and strong, sprinted ahead and broke trail the entire way.

From the top of the hill, things got more interesting. First up was a steep headwall of loose talus covered in a generous layer of unconsolidated snow. In the best of conditions, there isn't really a trail up this slope and in the snow it was pointless; we picked a likely line and balanced our way up loose, hidden rocks.

Dan breaks trail (NC).

Me on the ridge enjoying the pre-broken trail (FS).

At this point, I was farther along on the route than I'd made it on either of my previous attempts but I was getting cold feet about continuing... literally. My feet were extremely painful and I would have taken almost any excuse to turn back yet again. But the rest of the team showed more fortitude than I and offered their support while I got my feet back under me, so to speak. After loosening my boots, blood began to flow and they warmed up. I grimly soldiered on, thankful for my team's support.

Fortunately, continuing at this point was a very attractive option. It was still extremely cold, but the promised 20 mph winds hadn't really materialized (beyond occasional breezes). The ridge undulated toward the summit crested with incipient cornices on one side or the other the whole way. Dan, Jeff, Andy, and I alternated breaking trail along the ridge and I was soon warm from the effort.

We paused at 11 am near the end of the ridge and the peak seemed to almost be ours. Nelson suggested a 1pm turn around time and it seemed that 2 hours would be more than sufficient time to reach the summit. The ridge soon ended and the final 900' of mountain was before us. It still didn't look too bad, but the reality was a choice of deep powder, snow covered talus, or sheets of hard, icy snow. Dan took to the rocks, while the rest of the crew started up the consolidated snow, front-pointing mightily. Axes were deployed. The going was slow, but steady.

Six motivated climbers (FS).

Working up steep snow on the NW face with the Villa Ridge, Gold Hill, and Mayflower Gulch far below. (JF).

At length, I emerged at a sub-summit at 13,700' and was hit by the full force of the wind, just as strong as promised. People were starting to look a little tired as they collapsed down behind some rocks but, despite my initial misgivings about the day, I was feeling great. It looked like we might actually put this thing to bed! With half an hour until our turn-around time, we started the final push up a wilderness of steep rocks and deep, unconsolidated snow. Finally, Jeff, Dan, and I reached the summit at 12:55. Andy arrived shortly thereafter followed a few minutes later by Fabio and Nelson. 100% success!

The summit sported spectacular views, of course, but absolutely brutal conditions. It was extremely cold with a strong wind out of the north west. It was also about the clearest conditions I've ever seen. The Flattops to the west and Pikes Peak to the east, each 70 miles away, were clear enough to appear just across the valley. Closer, the dark bulk of Quandary Peak loomed to the east, massive and toothy. We could see skiers far down in the valley below enhancing and expanding on the collection of tracks. Climbing the mountain, we'd been warm enough, but the summit didn't invite a lot of standing around in these conditions, nor was there any shelter to speak of available. Fabio noted that he was extremely glad that the southern of Drift's two summits is the marginally higher one. Traversing to the north summit and back in these conditions was not an attractive option!

Andy, Dan and I on the NW face (JF).

Jeff on the summit. Yeah, there's some wind (JF).

One by one, we started back down. Dan, energetic on the ascent, had burned out after doing more than his share of trail breaking. He'd also managed to pull down a large boulder on his foot just below the summit and was concerned about its integrity. Andy had mild AMS and was throwing up. Time to get down. Strung out over a few hundred feet of altitude, we made our way down the steep upper face. Twice, while traversing compacted snow, my heels slipped out from under me and I started an uncontrolled slide. I'm pleased to report that my self-arrest skills are fully functional and instinctive. With a feeling of great detachment, I flipped myself onto my stomach, planted my axe pick, and came to a complete stop after sliding perhaps 2 meters. Great!

Eventually we got back to the ridge and enjoyed the undulating traverse along the trail we'd spent so much energy breaking on the way up. The views were good and the wind had dropped to nothing. I enjoyed a nice 15 minute rest flopped down in a snowdrift, watching the skiers below. My frozen water hose proved it was still significantly below freezing, but the sun was warm and the satisfaction of finally summitting Drift kept me quite content in my airy perch.

Fabio makes his way down typical talus near the summit (NC).

The crew after a successful descent: Fabio, Jeff, Nelson, me, Andy, Dan

The final descent of the steep, talusy headwall was no fun, but at least gravity was on our side this time. Back down on the flats of Gold Hill, we regrouped for a snack and some photos. We retrieved our snowshoes and tramped down the deep powder slopes into Mayflower Gulch. It was then an easy hike on well-packed trail out to the parking lot which we reached 9 hours, 6.5 miles, 3000 vertical feet, and umpteen thousand calories after leaving. A quick, well-deserved celebratory dinner in Frisco sealed the day perfectly.

I am unspeakably glad to have succeeded on my third Drift attempt, but have to wonder why this time was different from the last. Certainly denied ambition is extremely motivating and having six frustrated climbers gave us a certain amount of emotional inertia. The weather was hostile, but could have easily been much worse. We were only exposed to the wind for the top 500' of the climb and had fortunately all brought plenty of warm gear. The route is a challenging one in the winter, but we learned from previous attempts and managed to find the path of least resistance. In fact, the ridge was far more interesting and aesthetic than it appeared from below and this helped overcome a lot of the mental challenges. Having a large team allowed us to support each other and share the energy-consuming tasks of trail-breaking and route-finding. Each of us had our emotional and physical low-points and were helped on by our team-mates.

Whatever! It was a great, hard, and gorgeous climb with some very kindred comrades. As long as there's more of that, I'll be happy!

The Wilderness Journal

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