After climbing Independence Monument, Ryan and I headed to the Rockslide Brewpub in Grand Junction for a late lunch. Refueled, we continued our journey south to Ouray then located a campsite at the Angel Creek campground partway to Yankee Boy Basin.
The cool air and clear sky felt like home after the sand, wind and biting flies of the desert. After a nap we packed a completely different set of gear into our backpacks for the next day and debated when to get started in the morning.
I was pleased when the night remained clear and the temperature dropped to the mid-30s. At 5:40am we drove up to Yankee Boy Basin to find a couple headed for Sneffels and a set of skiers aiming for Mount Emma. No one else was destined for Potosi however, so Ryan and I set off the opposite direction to pick up the familiar slopes that lead to Teakettle and Potosi.
The sun was coming up across the valley, but we’d be in the shade for some time yet and we were both comfortable hiking in insulated jackets. For the first thousand feet or so we were able to keep to bare slopes and frozen tundra.
As we neared the Coffeepot-Potosi saddle we hit steepening snow and stopped to strap on crampons and un-holster an ice axe.
A steep snow patch below some cliffs was our last obstacle to the saddle.
In full view now was Potosi and the couloir that had attracted us here.
Getting to the couloir required some consideration. The saddle and ridge we were on was still corniced and had been getting sun for at least an hour by now. We knew of a party last year that turned back because they didn’t want to re-ascend these slopes later in the day. After talking it over, Ryan and I committed to descending the longer standard route.
Agreeing to proceed, we descended near a cornice, but off to one side of its fall line.
A traverse then brought us to the base of the couloir.
The slopes around us showed plenty of evidence of wet slides and rock fall. Glad that the night had frozen so well and that weeks of warm weather had settled the snow and melted off much of the cliffs above, I began to climb into the shade of the couloir.
A small rock came bounding down the couloir and I saw it take a beeline for Ryan, then pass harmlessly through his legs. Marble-sized ice bits musically descended the couloir encouraging me to quickly move higher.
Partway up the couloir the snow turned icy and I felt it was time to engage the second ice tool. Ryan did the same and a bit before 10am we topped out of the couloir.
We still had a bit less than 100 feet to the summit. The slopes above had been getting sun for a while, but the deep freeze had kept them from getting too soft.
If we weren’t concerned about softening snow and wet slides we could have stayed on top soaking in the view for hours. Ryan wondered if there was a peak in the San Juans that we couldn’t see.
Neither of us were familiar with the standard route, but we had a brief description and maps so we reversed our route back to near the top of the couloir then headed south down a gully which seemed to lead in the right direction.
A little face-in downclimbing brought us to the class 2 ledge that in summer is the standard route to the summit. Now, it was a sloping pile of snow with cliffs above and below. Still, the snow conditions were good and we were able to traverse around the south side of Potosi until the Coffeepot-Potosi saddle was again in sight.
A little scree hiking in crampons returned us to the saddle. We were a bit concerned about repeating our morning’s traverse after the snow had been exposed to the sun for hours. On the traverse I’d examined the terrain and been able to piece together a route through rocks and gullies that would allow us to reach our ascent route lower down.
We still had a few steep slopes to cross, but their high angle and aspect kept them from softening too much and before long we were back on muddy tundra and removing our crampons.
At the trailhead we had the pleasure of meeting Charlie Winger, whom both Ryan and I had purchased guidebooks and climbing gear from.