Bear Peak

This post was missed amid a busy summer schedule.

The last time I hiked to Bear Peak, the day ended with a never-to-be-forgotten experience ( see details below).  That hike began at the Mesa TH on Eldorado Springs Drive.  This time we would begin on the northwest side off Flagstaff Road.  Elevation there is 7,242'.

Ed maneuvers through a section of rocks on trail.

According to the map, trail begins next to a tract of private land.  That meant identifying the TH could be more difficult than normal.

The drive out of Boulder on Columbine Avenue, past Chautauqua Park, always puts me in a good frame of mind.  That of...this (Boulder) is a place like no other in the U.S.  Maneuvering the hairpin curves, steep climbs, guessing when to pass cyclists, and the urge to look off road at the exceptional landscape below, was a challenge.

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After passing Cathedral Park, we knew we were close to the TH.  Plus we knew trail began on the left side of the road. 

A sign designating 'Private Property' caused us to stop.  A few paces from where the vehicle was parked, there it was, a trail marker for Green Mountain West Ridge trail.


One more use for duct tape.

The first .5 mile, trail ran parallel to a fence row establishing the private sector.  It then dropped a few hundred feet elevation while entering a grassy area that led to a power line.  As we approached the area, the sound of a chain saw became louder and louder.


On trail with Bear Peak in background.

As we rounded a bend in trail, we noticed a handful of men in hard hats dragging pine tree branches along the slope below.  Making a switchback turn that would take us below the work crew, brought us in direct line with the area where the men felling trees were working.

Ed used his emergency whistle to signal the men that we were close by.  Upon hearing the whistle, the crew stopped their work and focused on two hikers approaching.  'Is it ok to pass on the trail ahead?' asked Ed.  One of the crew responded, 'Yes, all clear down there.'


Rock outcropping atop Bear Peak.

As we passed below the crew, those who were dragging limbs across the slope returned to their work.  We could hear the chainsaw restart and by the varying whirring sounds of the saw confirmed the full crew had returned to the tasks at hand.

After crossing a small stream, we picked up the Bear Peak West Ridge trail.  We began seeing glimpses of the back side of the famous flatirons and in particular the 8,461' rock outcropping called Bear Peak.  It is a more daunting scene from this approach compared to that previous outing coming from the opposite side.


Approach to the steep part.

At this point, we had not seen another hiker, only the men on the power line work crew.  That would change as we made our approach to Bear Peak.  We could hear voices coming from trail above.

As we got closer to the base of the Peak, we went through an area where a fire had devastated the slopes in the area.  Some vegetation, including wildflowers, small tufts of grass and some signs of reseeding of the former pine forest were beginning to show life.


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I stopped on trail to rehydrate before beginning the ascent.  As I looked up slope, a mountain of solid rock stared back.  With no vegetation to speak of to shield the landscape, I could only guess where trail would lead me to the top.

A forest fire can destroy all living things on a mountain, but it can't change location of rock formations hat have been there for millions of years.  There were times where I looked up ahead and said, 'Where does trail go after that large bolder?'  Only when I was able to maneuver the bolder did I find the direction I would go.


Wildflowers thrive amid the fire devastated area.

During the climb, many hikers passed us.  Most of them were college age, 20 and 30 somethings.  A sizeable group of young people were members of an environmental group. 

Me being the slower of our duo, took a few minutes to catch up with my partner, Ed, who had found a spot at a switchback to sit, rest and rehydrate.  When I arrived, at around 8,000' el., we  agreed that actually getting to the top (8,461') was not a priority.  Time of day, time required to make the return to the TH and the ever-changing clouds overhead, helped make the decision to have lunch at that spot, then return.

More hikers, most of whom appeared in our age bracket, maybe even older, passed on their way down.

Total Miles Completed = 6.6  

As for that never-to-be-forgotten experience;  That day, my oldest grandson went along to Bear Peak.  That evening, he had a hockey practice scheduled.  It would be no problem because I decided to drive the two of us so we could go directly to practice after the hike.

The day turned from moderate to cold to very cold.  The wind had increased and was whipping at us repeatedly.  On Bear Peak, some members of the group were wondering, I'm sure, why they had registered for this trip.

Sitting on a rock, at the peak, Marcia was overheard saying, 'I can't feel my fingers.'  Reaching into my day pack, I found a pair of glove liners and gave them to her before we started down slope.  Progress was slow due to the steepness and rugged terrain.  Some actually slid down on their butts to keep from falling.

I checked my watch a number of times and calculated how much time was needed to get my grandson to Centennial in time for practice.  It would be tight, but we could do it. 

Telling Ed, we would move ahead and quicken the pace, Connor and I surged ahead and down slope.  At the bottom, trail went left and right.  In haste, I looked both ways and decided to go left.

An hour later, we were hiking across a grassy field with a residential community in the distance.  It was not the same trail we were on this morning.  I couldn't appear to be panicked although I was.  Now, there would be no time to get Connor to practice on time. 

Moving to the spot where trail met a cul-d-sac, we approached the first house and rang the doorbell.  There was nobody home.  A second residence was vacant so we moved on.  After passing a few houses, I decided to approach another and rang the doorbell.

A woman opened the door.  'Hello' I said.  We were hiking in the flatirons and got lost.  We are miles from our vehicle.  Could I use your phone to call a cab?  The woman looked a bit concerned, then said, to Connor, 'Are you OK, you look cold.'  Connor nodded that he was fine.  Then the woman said, 'Wait here, I'll call you a cab.'

After thanking the woman, Connor and I went to the curb and sat on the grass to wait for the cab.  About 40 minutes later, a cab came up the street.  When I told the driver where we wanted to go, I asked how far we were from our vehicle.  'Well, that's about 6 miles from here,' he said.

At the TH parking lot, we jumped in the truck and started for the highway.  Now there was virtually no way I would get Connor to hockey practice.  I decided to tell him the truth.  He was ok with it and probably thought all along that we would not make it in time. 

What I learned later was that Ed and five other members of the group had made the same wrong turn at the same trail junction and came out close to where we did and also called a cab.

This story has been retold many times since.  It's all part of ones journey.