The sun is rising, the birds are chirping, the air is still, and the roar of the Animas River reaches my ears as it meanders through the deep and majestic canyon in front of me.
I’m looking out at one of my favorite views in the world – The Grenadier range of the San Juans.
It’s been a full few days. 50+ miles of trail running at my back makes my heart full and my legs tired.
Now, this early morning, I bundled up and made the short hike down to this point.
A point where I could sit, look out at one of my favorite views, and just be.
Just be. Here. Breathing. At peace.
Several years ago, I caught sight of these towering peaks for the first time.
The first look was from a far distance. Sunrise. Around this same time, but many miles to the East. Several canyons and passes between us, I could see the sharp granite peaks – how could there be so many??
Later that day – a rather long day – I got to see them much closer. The end of the day, quite literally falling over from fatigue, we crested a final pass and my breath was taken away.
Once again, how could there be so many peaks?
The following day was like no other, as I spent the better part of the day catching glimpses, finally descending down into the canyon on the East side of the range.
From here, the peaks towered tall above me. I couldn’t see the peaks from this vantage – only sheer granite walls, making any thought of ascending to the top highly unlikely.
We climbed over a pass and headed north, the peaks now behind us, slowly disappearing. I was sad to be leaving them.
But I knew I’d be back.
–
That was all many years ago, and since that day I’ve spent much time dancing around the San Juan Mountains, always eager to catch a glimpse.
Driving by on the highway, I’m always eagerly looking over to catch a glimpse of this specific view. Occasionally I’ll stop and take them in for a moment.
On better occasions, I’ll climb a nearby mountain to get the best views (my favorite being the views from Engineer).
Dancing around the San Juans, always eager to catch glimpses of these peaks in the distance – my heart lighting up when I do.
But always from a distance.
Not since that day, 5 years ago, have I actually stood at the base of them.
And never before have I actually had the opportunity to climb any one of them to the very top.
What would it be like to actually climb one to the top?
As for now, it’s mid-June, and the snow is still present enough such that I’m not willing to climb technical peaks. But I am eager to stand as close as possible once again.
So for this trip – one that would be only 3 or 4 days, solo, and with some remaining snow-pack – I needed to temper my expectations.
I would “settle” for any glimpse of the peaks that I could. And, if I was lucky, I could stand at the base or get a great view of a peak.
Setting Up a Plan
Access to these peaks can come from, let’s say, 4 different ways: N, S, E, W.
Access from the north requires a good 4-wheel drive car and a willingness to drive on dirt roads for hours. I ruled that one out quickly.
Access from the East was what I did 5 summers ago, and that involved many days of backpacking. I easily ruled that out.
That left the south and west, both of which could be done in day (okay, by most standards, it actually looks more like a 2-3 day backpack to actually get to and from their base; however, I was willing to run far in a day, so I’d be willing to push it just a bit if given the chance).
I’d try the southern end first, as I’d be driving up from New Mexico, which means I’d be driving by a few good options for trails that would get me to where I needed to go.
From there, I’d have to see how things went. I don’t like a concrete plan. It makes me feel locked into something and I could easily decide that there’s a better option.
What I had was several ideas, plenty of food, a place to sleep (my car), and all my trail running gear.
It sounded like a fun game, so I packed my bags and, at 4:00 in the morning, headed north.
