Perseverance on Capitol Peak

August 14, 2011

Capitol Peak from the Trailhead

Capitol Peak has been on my mind for many years.  The flanks of this Colorado 14er rise dramatically from the surrounding basins, making the peak a stunning and imposing monolith of granite in the Elk Range.  From a distance it might appear that all summit routes are technical.  The peak is reclusive and access is not easy, requiring a backpack-in and an overnight for all but the most ambitious climbers.  It doesn’t have the popularity or notoriety of Longs or Pikes or Elbert, in part because it is not readily visible from a city or highway, but it holds what many believe to be the most difficult standard route on a 14er.

For years I read trail descriptions and studied trip reports about this peak wondering ‘could I?’ and ‘would I?’  After a few years of sharpening my skills and testing my mettle I felt ready for an attempt.  But my typical weekend warrior trips afford maybe one or two days of opportunity for an attempt and a climb such as this one demands good weather, and so it slipped from the top of my list, but never completely out of my consciousness.  During downtime at the Refugio in Ecuador, or in the posh on Denali, the subject of Capitol Peak came up in discussions with others who love the mountains.

Finally the opportunity came.  Dan and I coordinated to each take off enough time from work to allow ourselves to get into the Colorado backcountry and challenge ourselves on several routes and peaks, creating an ambitious itinerary that we modified based on weather, conditions, stamina, and our priorities.

Capitol Peak in the waning sunlight

I flew in on Saturday and we headed right up into the mountains, arriving at the Capitol Creek trailhead around 5PM.  From the trailhead the mountain is in plain sight and its beauty is jaw-dropping.  As Dan pointed out, you simply can’t take a bad photo in this valley. Shouldering our packs we started up the Ditch Trail, enjoying the scenery as we went.  The 6.5 miles to the Lake started easy for me, but maybe the heavy pack or my quick transition from sea level to 11,000 feet caught up to me and I was tired by the time we made camp near Capitol Lake, enjoying the last rays of evening light on the North Buttress of the mountain.

We were up at 4AM to ready ourselves for the day ahead.  After some oatmeal and a cup of coffee we grabbed our rucksacks and headed for the trail.  Dan was part of the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative that built the switchbacks in the 1000’ slope up to the Daly Saddle, and I was thankful for the mild grade as we gained ground quickly in the darkness.  Halfway up we looked back and saw the headlamps of others just starting out at the lake and still lower, there were some headlamps coming up the main trail.

Overhead there were stars, but there were also some clouds streaming across the sky and from the start we weren’t sure how the day’s weather would materialize.  A cold front was predicted to pass late in the day or overnight, so we hoped we could summit before the weather deteriorated.

Beyond the saddle the route drops into a basin and climbs to the end of the basin before angling up over talus toward the ridge line feature known as “K2.”  Still in darkness we tried to stay as high as possible on the traverse into the basin and we soon found that the route was not easy to follow.  We crossed several loose gullies and the way forward was becoming increasingly less clear.  Fortunately we carried microspikes and we put them on at the first crossing of a snowfield.  I was feeling a little skittish on the hard snow with just the spikes and no ax, but there wasn’t much choice.

We continued to cross snowfields and ascend on rock bands in between until we couldn’t proceed any higher.  We downclimbed some rock and crossed another snowfield to make our way to the main route.  It was light now and we had lost a lot of time route-finding in the basin.  Two of the groups passed us low in the basin and now were ahead of us.

Capitol Peak from K2 - note climbers on the knife edge

Back on the main route the rock was big and blocky and we clambered up through the rocks until we reached a talus slope below K2.  The sky was mostly cloudy now and an intermittent drizzle began to fall.  I was becoming skeptical about our prospect of summitting, but we pressed on.

Gaining ground close to K2, the route skirts around the north side of this prominence, and the exposure of the route went from nothing to attention-grabbing in an instant.  We climbed to the top of K2 where you will, as one of the guidebooks states, “consider your future.”  There before us was the breathtaking summit pyramid of Capitol Peak, soaring above Capitol Lake on the north and Pierre Lakes on the south.  Looking across the ridge that the Northeast route traverses, we could see two climbers crossing the fabled knife edge.

Capitol Lake from near K2

Our next challenge was descending from K2 back to the route, which took some route-finding and careful down-climbing back to the north.  The west face of K2 is incredibly sheer, dropping more than 1000’ into the Pierre Lakes basin.  We began our climb onto the ridge, carefully placing our hands and feet to test for loose holds. 

Past the mini-knife, we arrived at the main knife edge, a 100-foot long section of exposed ridge.  We still weren’t totally committed to the climb and miles beyond Capitol the weather was deteriorating.  Occasionally a little drizzle fell, but nothing major.  It was fairly certain that there was no threat of thunderstorms, but the specter of wet rocks was equally concerning on this route.  Dan scooted across the knife and I went about halfway before we both stopped, had a chat, and decided to turn back.

Mike on the knife edge

Dan on the knife edge

Defeated on Capitol.  Capitol Punishment.  I was thinking of the proper headline for our about-face.  It was incredibly frustrating, even if a part of me felt some relief.  I felt like my dream to climb this mountain would be shelved for another bunch of years.  I felt like the turn of events here could undermine my own confidence in my ability to climb such mountains.

Dan was even more frustrated.  And looking back on Capitol from back below K2, it now smiled in the sunlight and the weather looked like it might hold off.  Dan initiated the decision to turn back around and go for it and I wasn’t about to let him go off and have all the fun on his own…

For all the frustrating route-finding issues we had earlier in the day and the time we wasted, we now climbed efficiently and with a purpose.  Dan led us back across the knife edge.  I walked on a ledge below the knife where I could, holding onto the knife, and then scooted across where there is no ledge.  The scooting basically requires you to straddle the ridge, with one leg on each side of the ridge, and use your hands to drag yourself forward.  It’s an inelegant approach, but it was effective.

Did I think about the exposure?  Not really.  Once we entered the committing portion of the route beyond K2, I felt a strong focus come over myself.  I paid close attention to my movements and the immediate surroundings.  I moved like a cat burglar, making progress while doing my best not to dislodge loose rock.  Up there you have to test every hold because your life depends on it.

Capitol Peak summit

Beyond the knife we carefully watched for cairns and followed the route on the ridge until it made an ascending traverse on the south side of the summit pyramid.  The terrain was steep and we were still being careful not to dislodge the loose rock.  Finally, we arrived at a series of ledges which were covered with some loose scree and provided a good means to gain ground and access the south ridge.  From the south ridge we ascended up and over to the summit, just as some sleet was falling.  We did it!  We had summitted Capitol Peak!


From the summit, the imposing ridge connecting to Snowmass Mountain comes into view, a ridge so ragged and loose that it is known as ‘Satan’s Ridge’.  We also had great views toward the Bells and down into the nearby basins, including Capitol Lake, where our campsite stood nearly 3000 feet below.  We didn’t stay long as the descent was sure to be a challenge.

We retraced our steps down the south ridge and carefully down the ledges to reach the traverse which took us back around to the ridge.  The weather held as we reached the west end of the knife edge and scooted back across.  After traversing around K2 we stopped at the top of the talus slope for a break and I breathed a sign of relief.

Dan descends Capitol's South Ridge

On the return we found a more efficient route through the lower portion of the basin, boot-sliding on the snow slopes in the middle of the drainage.  We crossed a couple of boulder fields and the route back to the Daly saddle looked straightforward until we reached the gullies that started our route-finding dilemma earlier in the day.  We climbed high above the gullies and across on very loose rock before descending to the saddle and rejoining the trail that took us back to camp by mid afternoon.

We decided to spend another a night at Capitol Lake, exploring and enjoying the scenery here before eating a leisurely dinner and enjoying a celebratory beer, cooled in a nearby snowfield.  We both savored this day and the climb.  And the weather held off until after nightfall when the rain and wind came in and battered our tent as we slept.

This climb is one I will never forget.  It is a memorable route that requires ideal conditions and a climber's 'A' game.  If I had to sum up the climb using one word it would be 'Intense.'

campsite near Capitol Lake