We drove up to Breckenridge on Saturday afternoon, and stayed at a lovely two-bedroom condo owned by Donna’s friend, Kay.
The alarm went off at 4:00 on Sunday, and we left the condo around 5:30. John was having serious problems with the sweet roll and coffee he’d had for breakfast, and a couple of stops were required on the south side of Hoosier. Having climbed Democrat only one week before, Donna and I found the route from Alma to Kite Lake quite familiar. We parked the truck a fraction of a mile further from the trailhead than we did on that previous trip, thus avoiding a nasty creek crossing and the possibility of further undercarriage abuse.
It was about 6:40 when we hit the trail. John was clearly weakened by his bout with the sweet roll, and began to lag behind. Three-quarters of the way up to the saddle, he decided it was a losing battle, and turned back.
From the saddle, the weather to the west could be observed — and it didn’t look too great. Showers were moving in from the west, gradually obliterating our view of the next ridge over as they advanced. We could see blue sky underneath and behind them, however, so we pressed on after a brief rest. Halfway up the ridge to Cameron, tiny snow pellets began to dust the trail. When Donna’s hair began standing on end, and the Snap-Crackle-Pop Brothers took up residence in Paul’s hair and mine, a brief halt was called. We hunkered down beside the trail, which was skirting the ridge to the southeast, and waited for things to clear. With the passage of the snow shower and related electrical phenomena, we struck out again, across the narrowing ridge, then up the gentle slopes to the broad summit of Cameron. Some notable pictures were taken.
After another brief rest, we strolled across the saddle toward Lincoln. For trudging up the last few, steep feet of Colorado’s eighth highest peak, we were rewarded with an expansive view of Democrat, Cameron, Bross, and scores of other high peaks. And, yes, it appeared to be possible to take a jeep to within a fraction of a mile of the top, approaching from the east.
Next came the trail to Bross, which begins as a pleasant downhill walk which skirts Cameron to the northeast, then crosses the low point of the Cameron-Bross saddle. It then meanders up old mining road switchbacks to the expansive summit, where someone has erected a fine wind shelter.
From Bross, say the guidebooks, one descends west or southwest back to Kite Lake. The west side is quite steep, however, and we sought to avoid it, choosing instead the trail which leads southwest off the top. The trail forks at the first drainage, which is also quite steep. For better or worse, we elected not to descend via the first drainage, and kept to the trail as it bent south.
Soon, however, the trail gave out, and we found ourselves astride a spur, which was becoming increasingly rocky and steep. With few apparent options remaining, we headed east off the spur into the second drainage, shuffling down the steep scree slope. (The effect was not wholly unlike skiing, as Donna would later note.) Then we started down the bottom of the drainage, which was fairly broad and dry, if rocky.
As we descended, broad and dry increasingly gave way to narrow and wet (the rocky part remained constant). The walls of the gully grew steeper as we descended, and a climb out of the gully became less of an option. We paused when, about 30 feet ahead of us, a threesome which had passed us appeared to be having difficulty proceeding. One of them — the lone male — appeared to have found a route alongside a small waterfall, and was assisting his companions, who were using handholds and footholds, clinging to the nearly-vertical rock wall above the fall.
Graciously, the fellow assisted the three of us as well, first demonstrating the series of ledges which allowed one passage alongside the fall, then calling out “another foot... six inches more... three more inches...” as each of us waited for our feet to find the next step. We thanked him for his assistance, and he sprinted down the remainder of the gully in pursuit of his companions as we let our adrenaline ebb.
After exiting the gully where its steep walls opened onto the valley, we strolled the remaining half-mile down to the campground area, then down the road to the truck and John.
