Berthoud Pass Co. and Back!

Last winter I spent some time exploring the Colorado mountains around Berthoud Pass at 11,315 foot in elevation. At that time I was fighting deep snow either on snowshoes or skies. Now that it’s summer why not go back to the same area, but this time with hiking boots and a day pack.

I found a victim or companion to go along on a 2 day 44 miles hiking adventure. Dave Guzy a fellow Colorado hiker, found enough time to spend away from job and family.

We arrived at Berthoud Pass at 7:00 am on June 30th, with a comfortable temperature of 55 degrees. Our route would take us west on the Continental Divide Trail as we left the safety of my pickup truck. As the name implies the trail will follow the ridge of the mountains that divide the western drainage from the eastern drainage. All waters that drain off the eastern slope of the mountain go towards the Atlantic Ocean and every drop of agua that lands on the western slopes goes towards Arnold Schwarzenegger’s house.

The trail will gain 1,206 feet of elevation in 4 sweaty miles of trekking. Patches of white snow that were packed along ridges and overhangs added a color contrast of greens and browns of the tundra and small bushes. Because of the high elevation and extremes in temperatures all plants are miniatures. As we walked along we had the sensation of hiking with a plastic bag over our head due to the lack of oxygen at this high attitude. During the steep ascents we could only walk for a few minutes without a stop for a couple of heavy breaths to give the lungs a chance to catch up. Because of our increase in elevation we had a 360 degree panoramic view of where we had been and our destination that lay ahead.

Our first objective was to reach Vasquez Pass and from there we could descend into the Vasquez Wilderness Area and Fraser valley. Vasquez Pass connected a dirt road over the mountains in the 1800's. In my mind I could hear the clanking and squeaking of wagons wheels from the past. With this vital link, miners with high hopes could move supplies into the gold fields. After Bethoud Pass was constructed Vasquez Pass fell into ruin and it was hard to tell a road ever existed.

In the distance with the help from a great pair of field glasses we could see 20 elk hanging out on a distant slope. We could also see the town of Fraser, our stop for the night, even though it was still many miles away. Coming down a steep mountain side we came upon a forgotten miners dream of his bonanza dug into the hill side. Only ancient timbers stuck out of this played out gold mine. The farther we hiked into the valley the taller the trees grew, except the ones that were missed being mowed down from last years winter avalanche.

By lunch time we came upon a stream that was born high up on a mountain side as its’ snow melted. A fallen log would make a great picnic table. The ground was covered with pine cones and an occasional animal track. Early pioneers in this area put moose and elk steaks on the barbie when ever the chance arrived and as a result most of the game didn’t survive. The Colorado Dept of Wildlife has done a bang up job of building up the herds in recent years. Moose have recently been released in this water shed area and seem to thrive.

The Vasquez Creek following along the trail seemed to be making better time than us as we headed down the valley. By 4:00 pm we came to our first turn that would lead us into Fraser. A local jogger told Dave that Fraser was still 7 miles a way. Dave’s sore feet didn’t like to hear that information any more than Dave did. I stepped up the death march pace a tad with Fraser on my mind. Dave had a more sensible idea, no not crying, flagging down a passing car and begging for a ride. Within a few minutes I heard the sound of crunching gravel as a older car pulled up behind me. In the back seat with his backpack as his copilot sat Dave. His arm was motioning me to approach our savior with the bad paint job. Momma didn’t raise no fool and I was in the passenger seat before the dust could settle.

The Rocky Mountain Inn and Hostel in Fraser was a welcome sight. Our host for the night, Emmile was so friendly and helpful. She showed us around the super clean hostel. The hostel had everything a family or individual could needed and it was a bargain at $18.00 per person, large rooms with a common area for TV. The showers came in handy as 22 miles of dirt went down the drain. A family of 6 from Chicago cheerfully shared the hostel with us. The oldest child was going to University of Pittsburgh next year and I being originally from the burg, we had much to talk about.

The next morning July 1st the hostel awoke to clear skies. Dave and I had many miles to get under our soles, except Dave’s soles didn’t want to hear it. His heal, his toes, in fact both of his feet were in agreement, that baby steps were in order but not a forced march. We had planned on hiking up and over Rogers Pass and then continue back to Berthoud Pass. Another 22 miles with a lot of elevation gain lay in front of us. Since these adventures can change when the weather and body condition turn upside down, it was time for a 360 degree change of action.

Dave and I together would walk as far as Winter Park ski resort on the bicycle path that parallels Highway 40. Then he would put his fate in the out stretched thumb of his right hand on the highway. We picked a good spot with enough room for his savior to pull over and give Dave and his sore feet a lift. I would continue my walk back to my truck on Berthoud Pass.

I walked along the road facing traffic and it wasn’t all that bad, even though I was walking uphill. From Fraser I had a walk of 18 miles with a elevation gain of 2600 feet. The scenery in the valley was grand with rocky covered mountains decorated with snow fields that lead down to pine covered slopes. As the cars and trucks came whizzing by me I did manage to keep a eye open for possible wildlife sightings. I did see plenty of moose tracks along the sandy shoulder of the highway, but alas no Mr. Moose, maybe they thought I knew Sarah Palin. By 10:00 am I made it to where the highway makes a dog leg curve to the right and starts a steep ascent. The Fraser River went straight up its’ carved out valley and I would follow it. The river was running high with all the snow melt and it formed hundred of waterfalls. It went over boulders and then when a fallen tree would try and block its’ path it would just simply gush over it. The noise of all the rushing water almost blocked out the noise of the semi trucks brakes either trying to slow their progress down the mountain or the sound of the trucks racing engines chugging up the same obstacle. I found an old path that a power company had made to string electric lines on wooden poles. The same company came back, when the lines were obsolete and cut down the poles and gathered up the copper lines. From tracks in the soft mud I could tell elk and moose had been using the same right of way.

By noon I had the pass in my sight. I followed a old ski run that snow boarders use every winter. As my reward I found a pair of new ski gloves and a nygene drinking container that was revealed when the snow melted in the summer sun.

My last push up the steep hill brought me up to the parking lot that held my truck and Dave. Dave had been picked up after waiting 2 hours, but it was better than making his feet suffer any more.