|
I was out in Denver for a little over the week for business. I guess after having to go to Temecula all those times, I worked up a little karma (or is it che?) and got sent to some place a little more, well, Coloradoish. Getting sent to Denver was a dream, but it was winter, so-o-o-o-o, I had to be a little more creative than just throwing myself on a trail all alone. Wives and mothers everywhere are happier.
Saturday was a good exploration day, and I did my county highpointing cohorts proud. Of course, any other person in my life might think that the highpointing branch of the family is a little on the odd side. Regardless, I planned my trip using the full force of technology. A combination of the trip reports on cohp.org, their links to topo maps on topozone.com, and feeding those coordinates into Google Earth and my GPS, gave me enough information to give this the best shot I could. I went down to the Avis branch just a few blocks away and found a trusty sedan completely devoid of any style for $30. What a deal!
Keeping to the lowlands of urban Denver, I started with the Denver county highpoint first, located near the corner of South Jellison Way and South Kipling, elevation 5,680 ft. I parked my approach vehicle at the trailhead, and headed up the north face. The north face may be one of the more difficult approaches, particularly early this morning. I was faced with an ice field, and I did not have crampons nor ice axe. Nervous I was, but I made up for my lack of metal tools with a steely focus of concentration. Step by suburban step, I crossed the objective hazard, and was thankful the bergchrund had not opened up so early in the season. I reached the summit not long after this hardship, but the natural summit was no longer the local highpoint. A manmade island down the middle of the road may have made a new highpoint, so I dodged the cars and tramped over there a bit, too. Back at my car, I was on my way north and then west to pick up SR 93. I cruised through a part of Golden and then around to Broomsfield, Colorado’s newest county as I understand it. I peeled off on SR 128, and stopped at its intersection with Indiana, nothing around me except land that was surely planned for development. The apparent highpoint was a pushed-up berm right on the street corner, so I took a mighty stance and looked around. Yep, county highpointing can be an odd hobby. I tramped around a little more on the other side of a fence, but I was quickly back in my car and back on the freeways. Two counties completed before lunch.
I came around to the east side of Denver, heading for the highpoints of Adams County. Out near the airport, I took the counterintuitive directions given in a cohp trip report and arrived at Adams point no. 1, a mere low ridge that East 26th Street passes over. I took my hero shot, even as a truck drove by, slowing to make sure I did have a car part blown, and then moving on. Adams point no. 2 was 1 mile to the north, just west of a bend in a local dirt road. The witness mark was well signed, and someone was there just before me, probably that morning judging by the tracks. Cool, three counties completed!
The Arapahoe county highpoints were a little further along the ring road, southeast of the city. I took the Smokey Hill Road exit, and followed it to the Stage Run development. Arapahoe point no. 1 is tough to discern in comparing man-made to natural points, but I was satisfied with the point just behind the Stage Run masonry wall. Three mature trees told me that it may be natural land, and I think it may have been the local highpoint anyway. As with the other locations, I tramped around a little bit to be sure. Arapahoe point no. 2 was farther down the road, on the edge of a road cut. The natural point may have once been where the road now runs, but now you can walk along the top of the cut, on the public side of someone’s fence, and cruise right over the highpoint. That’s four for today. Unheard of by California standards.
Now, I was actually going to have to go for a bit of a drive, and I made it longer by trying to take a scenic route. I-25 runs north-south, as do the Rockies. I could easily keep track of my direction while taking farm roads back to the highway. It worked out wonderfully at the beginning, and I thoroughly enjoyed driving by older houses, in stark contrast to the soulless but sparkling developments I had passed through all day. Then, I came somewhere near Parker. Traffic lights slowed me down, and suddenly I was in development hell. I was on some sort of access road that went by subdivision after subdivision. The access road was traveling south, which was okay because I ultimately wanted to go south, but then it stopped going south. It stopped going anywhere at all, terminating in an undignified but undeniable mound of dirt. Furious, I could only turn around and retrace my steps, revisiting all of these Pulte/Toll Brother/Kaybee bastions of boredom and working my way to I-25 on a different route. Grr.
I headed south on I-25, getting closer to Colorado Springs than to Denver, in search of the Elbert County highpoints. I passed through Castle Rock, which exhibited a small spire of a mesa looming over the freeway, clearly the town namesake. The directions I had gleaned from Google Earth included a street name, but I was unsure of which exit to use if it used a town name, and no street name. I saw Greenland and I took the exit, knowing that was in the vicinity of where I was heading. I was heading east in farm country, with wide open expanses of snow covered fields. For the first time that day, I took out the GPS unit to see if I had indeed used the right exit. My goal was 11 miles away and ESE of me, and that slight southerly component meant I had probably exited too early. I criss-crossed the farmland, rarely seeing any other vehicles, and after a few turns I found County Line Road. The highpoints were near the county line, and I was back on track. I drove by the western points for Elbert County and parked my car along a small stretch of road near to the eastern points. Apparently one potential high point was right here in the road, so I considered that one done. A short distance to the north, in a field, were a few more points. The topo map showed a large contour in this area, and the highest point within it was the target. I hopped the fence and immediately found the snow to be calf deep. For whatever reason, I had gone on this adventure with my ankle-high boots, cotton ankle socks, and jeans. I was going to pay a small price to mark this county. I did a high-step jog straight north to a small stand of trees that seemed to have the local high ground, not to mention a bit of a snow clearing. From there, the other wooded points certainly looked lower, so I crossed them off my list. Plus, I was winded and didn’t want to go too many places in this field. I came back to the car, hopping over an exposed piece of the field that could have been a highpoint as well. I was gasping for breath, being in my usual winter state of fitness and being over 7,000 ft. It was humbling. I moved the car a bit to the west, looking for the wooded highpoint just before dropping to the drainage. I was near the fence but didn’t cross it, and after some tromping I was satisfied. By visual means, I don’t think this area was anywhere near as high as the previous field. Checking the topo map one more time, I was dismayed to find another contour line that had to be checked on the west side of the drainage. Disheartened, I saw it would take another hop-jog across about 100 yds of snow-covered field. My breath came ragged as I moved up the last part of the hill, but I was back at the car, digging snow clumps out of my boots soon enough. I wondered when my feet would dry. This is why you don’t wear cotton when hiking. Check the photo for where I stomped.
I was pretty satisfied with myself on the way back to Denver. I was a freak and a dork, sure, but I had topped out on five counties in one day, and I liked the sense of accomplishment. Would anyone ever admire my effort? Heck, no!
--msw
|
