Colvin, Blake, Nippletop, and Dial

November 30, 2019

This classic quadruple peak hike has been on my radar for quite some time. I needed Colvin and Blake for my autumn round, and this seemed like a good way to fit them in. Originally I intended to hike it solo, but after barely keeping up to some fit young folk half my age on Allen a few weeks ago, I put out the call for recruits. Eric was the only one crazy enough to join me, though perhaps the others had excuses since people that age need generally have more important things to do like studying for final exams. Deb and Paul decided to join us for the first part of the hike so that made a group of four, with two independent teams.

We pulled into the AMR at 07:00 and was surprised by the amount of snow on the ground. We had not intended to carry snowshoes, but with the conditions looking like they were right in front of us thoughts turned to how deep it could potentially be up higher. We strapped the shoes to our pack, figuring if nothing else it would be good training weight, and struck out briskly down the road from the parking area. At the gate, Lake Road was a sheet of ice, so microspikes were the tool of the day, and these were the appropriate equipment choice over the entire day. Gill Brook trail was pretty as always, but we did not linger along here as I normally would since there was a lot of ground to cover.

Waterfall along Gill Brook.

We stuck together to the junction, took a quick fuel break and then started ascending the steep trail towards Colvin. Paul and Deb were slowing down here, so after a short discussion we decided to split up now so that Eric and I could keep moving. We scampered the rest of the way to Colvin's summit, pulling out the ice axes for a couple of the scrambles. The Colvin step had a poorly tied rope set up as an aid... trust this with your weight to your own peril. We pulled up with axes buried in the ice, using the rope only for balance. The summit vista was glorious in the bluebird day, however a stiff wind kept our visit very short. Deb and Paul arrived just as we were turning towards Blake, and they decided to call this their turn around point.

Eric on Colvin.

Colvin view.

The scoot over to Blake went quickly. I ditched my snowshoes under a rock part way down the south side of Colvin, since it was clear at this point that they were nothing but dead weight on my pack that seemed to have an affinity for catching on branches at awkward moments. We met a couple other solo hikers along here, one of them warning us that the tracked trail stopped on the false summit. We arrived on this peak, and sure enough, only one set of boot prints continued on from here to the normally accepted rock-in-a-clearing top of the mountain. This place made a very convenient sheltered spot for our first real break of the day, and we sat down on said rock for a sandwich.

Looking over at Nippletop from Colvin ridge.

After retrieving my snowshoes and climbing back over Colvin we decended very quickly back to the junction. Taking stock of the weather (perfect), time of day (13:00), our moods (keen), and body performance (no serious complaints), Nippletop was still a go. We hiked through Elk Pass, stopping briefly to admire this pretty place, and then began the climbing. It got a little bit icy, and since Eric was keen to try out some new crampons, we switched to more serious footgear, hoping it got icier. This turned out to be way overkill (kind of goes with the theme of carrying snowshoes in three inches of snow), but gave us some good early season practice of doing the duck walk. Nevertheless, we crunched all the way up to the summit, seeking the most direct lines up the icy parts, simply to justify wearing the things. After a few photos on the top looking out at the magnificent vista of the Great Range, we descended a bit to a tiny little area with a view of Dix, which was sheltered from the wind and we sat down for a second short sandwich break.

Pond in Elk Pass.

Climbing the Nipple.

After eating, I packed up, de-layered for movement and waited while Eric was furkling some gear. I was not dressed for standing, so moved a little down the trail to a warmer, sunny sheltered spot and waited. Several minutes later, Eric had still not shown so I climbed back up to find him still furkling with his pack. It became clear that he was starting to get the umbles. I helped get the pack sorted, him dressed, and then we were moving fast. I started jogging down the trail, and to my relief he was keeping up. After fifteen minutes of this, we both were warm again and stopping to delayer. A good lesson in how quickly hypothermia can set in, and to keep an eye out for your partner.

A cold man on Nippletop.

The climb up Dial was a slog. Mostly because of fatigue now, but also because we encountered a lot of blowdown along here. Crawling under trunks and branches with snowshoes and axes tied on the packs was awkward to say the least. We hit the top of Dial just before sunset, and stopped briefly to take in the view. Then it was off towards the next two sick jokes (Bear Den and Noonmark shoulder), which were climbed wearily with the headlamps on. The descent down to Lake road was lovely, as the soft snow in the open woods allowed us to boot ski alongside the trail, dropping loads of elevation very quickly. Once on AMR land, the snow pretty much disappeared and I even shed my spikes to hike the last stretch of mostly bare trail down to the road. Home free now, we crunched along in spikes on the icy road under the starlight, finally arriving at the car after an 11.5 hour day.

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