Molas Pass
Day 3
Reasonably speaking, this was to be a rest day. Not a full on break from any trails, but something more low-key.
Perhaps a gentle walk through the forest.
Perhaps a short hike to climb part of a mountain.
I had both of those as possibilities for my rest day as I set off from Andrews Lake at Molas Pass Monday morning.
The short hike up part of a mountain got tossed out first. I was eager to go scope out the route up Snowdon Peak. I was thirsting for any view I could get off the backside at the Grenadiers.
But when I came to the fork 1 mile into the hike – the one that would take me to the base of the peak – my legs were eager for a different plan.
Perhaps that easy jog through the forest, then?
This second plan was quickly tossed out, too, when I realized the possibilities that followed this trail. I knew it led to Crater Lake, and I knew that lake was at the base of the Needles.
The base of The Needles.
My heart ignited as my legs took off.
I didn’t have much time, but I had energy.
–
Before we get to the Needles, though (of course, I did indeed find them!) I have to pause for a moment to bring Engineer into this portion of the story.
There she was. As always. Once again in the distance – a solo peak jutting up from the ground beneath.
Engineer tends to steal the show in my world.
But she’s not the only peak that has a special place in my heart.
A look northward and I could see some other of my favorites rising up as I, myself, gained elevation.
–
The peaks in the distance stole the show for the first few miles.
Then, there was a new star.
The first views of North Twilight resembled the ones I had seen from the highway many times before (after all, the highway was just to the west).
But as I came closer, engulfed in the land surrounding me, my own two feet moving me forward, North Twilight was shining brighter than ever before.
By the time I got to the lake, I was on top of the world.
Standing at the base of North Twilight, she emanated all that I had imagined. Once again, those sheer, tall granite walls, still covered in streaks of snow.
Reflected for me to see, twice, her full majesty.
–
By now, though, the lake wasn’t enough to satisfy me. In the past couple miles I had realized the possibility of a new mark – the ridge above the lake.
Although the trail ended on the map here, at the lake, I knew it had to continue up to the ridge. Trails like this don’t just end when there’s such high potential for views nearby.
The trail had to continue, and I would continue forward to.
And I am so glad I did.
Accessing the pass wasn’t the most enjoyable. The trail from the lake is overgrown. The snow and ice on the trail made the steep, narrow sections difficult.
But no matter. Eventually, I found it.
The pass – the one that could, eventually, lead up to the summit of North Twilight. Or, perhaps beyond to the other Twilight Peaks. I could see one other (South Twilight?) clearly from here.
Standing at the base of this range filled me up.
But best of all, there was more!! From this vantage, I could see far below – all the way down into a deep canyon cut by The Animas River – to the very trail I had run just yesterday.
Views of the Twilight Peaks, right above me.
Views of the Animas – where I had been just yesterday – down below me.
And a view of one of the Grenadier Peaks – the very peak I ha dbeen chasing yesterday – jsut across from me.
Now that, my friends, is magic to me.
–
Now, after exploring the ridge and dreaming of future days when i could summit these peaks surrounding me, all that was left was to turn around, soak in even more views of more peaks, and get back to my car.
After all, the early morning hours were creeping away and I needed to get back to work!
Wrapping Up The Trip
From here, the trip wasn’t over. I was able to squeeze in a couple more mini-adventures between the work that needed to be done, sleeping, and driving back to Phoenix.
After working in Silverton, I decided that a trip up the west side of the Alpine Loop was in order. I had never headed in that direction before, and all seemed quiet off in that direction.
Plus, Silverton Mountain was down this road, and I had yet to go check it out.
I drove all the way until the good dirt road ended, my heart lighting up every time I saw the potential for accessing a peak or ridge (and, as this is the San Juan’s, that happened about every 15 feet). I wasn’t pushing my car (with its rather bald tires) on this trip, and from here both roads headed up with the potential for big and sharp rocks.
So, I parked the car, and did what I do best. I started moving forward on my own two feet.
Storm Peak
Storm Peak caught my attention the second I first caught a glimpse. Its tall, steep, sheer granite walls, still streaked with snow, was nothing short of magnificent.
I started walking towards it, the tall walls captivating me.
Dreams of coming back and skiing Silverton a constant in my mind as I continued forward.
When I found the base of Storm Peak, I was greeted by a fun sight: another individual, old miniman – clearly a current home – was parked at the base.
Window washer in hand, the man was cleaning the windows with the water from the creek.
We struck up a short conversation about the beauty of the area and the hazards of poor visibility out of car windows, and then I was off again.
I climbed just a bit higher for the best view of the peak.
I sat down, doing my best to enjoy the view in front of me – while also doing my best to release the thought of continuing further. There was a clear trail from here up to the ridge. From that ridge, there was access to the peaks.
It called me in.
Another day. I’d be back another day for one hell of an adventure.
As for now, I’d sit here, enjoy the view, and then enjoy my easy hike back to the car.
A final little hike
Tuesday morning, I was beat. Three nights of sleeping in the car combined with 50+ miles of trail running had left me depleted.
Plus, I had a job to do:
To head back to Phoenix. To wrap up a project for work. To clean out the rest of my apartment, and to get out of the city.
To drive away. The rest of my belongings riding along beside me.
To head home. This time, not to return.
I wasn’t looking forward to the drive. I certainly wasn’t looking forward to the 119 degree highs in Phoenix.
However, before I took on all that, I had somewhere I needed to go.
Of course, you already know that story.
I came back here, to Molas Pass. I hiked down about a mile and found this lookout.
–
I wouldn’t be making it to the base of these peaks this trip. And I was still far from heading up one.
But here I could sit, and look, and be here in this space with each one.
–
I still don’t know how it is these peaks speak to me the way they do.
But I do know the pull is strong. Year after year I come back here. Year after year I explore more of it.
Year after year, more is unveiled to me – so many trails to run; so many peaks to climb.
But for now, I was here. Just sitting – being immersed in it all.
And that was perfect.