Matt, Mike and I finished our climb at James peak and headed south for a wack at another climb. Originally planned to climb Mount Democrat, but found the National Forest closed due to fire concerns, though the fires were 100 miles away. Better safe than sorry, I guess. Time to regroup, so we looked at the map and Mike decided that our best bet was to try for LaPlata Peak. He had seen a tempting snow filled couloir the previous week and was sure there would be snow left to climb. Back in the cars and another 2 hours to the trailhead. We swung by the trailhead, just for a gander then drove back to the national forest campground at Twin Lakes to spend the night. Next day we had a leisurely start around 8:30 from the trailhead and, following Roach's directions, wound our way up towards LaPlata Basin. The initial trail, once leaving the normal route, headed east across a very low ridge, but we knew we had some elevation to gain. Shortly after leaving the normal route, we ran into some trail finding difficulties. This trail sees little use and in many places is hard to distinguish from the game trails. Once we hit the stream draining LaPlata basin, we turned South (right) and started up, following the west bank of the stream. The hike up was moderately difficult, but the verdant area and attractive brook more than made up for the numerous deadfalls we encountered. It seemed like every 50 feet we were climbing over or scooting under another downed tree on this unmaintained trail. We had numerous views of the Ellingwood Ridge to our left as we hiked up, and I could only imagine the difficulties one would encounter on that traverse. After about 2.5 hours of hiking, we broke out above tree line into the LaPlata Basin, a glacial cirque with a spectacular view of the north face of LaPlata Peak in front of us and the Ellingwood Ridge to our left. This area was mostly covered with some type of low growing, woody shrub about 4 to 6 feet in height. We spent the next half hour spread out and slowing moving towards the base of the north face, looking for a suitable campsite. Eventually we settled on a very nice spot back about 100 yards from the east bank of the stream, and 300 yards south of the head waters. There are better sites west of the stream, but the land is quite boggy, so we opted for a lesser site with easier water access. After we set up camp and ate lunch, Michael went exploring the approach to tomorrow's route. Matt and I went our separate ways up to the base of the Ellingwood Ridge, just looking around. We were all back at camp around 3:00 and spent the next 4 hours reading, lounging, baking in the sun, and watching the snow disappear from our climb. It's amazing how hot it can be in the afternoon at 12,000 feet. Unfortunately, we didn't get the usual afternoon thunderstorms, and as such, no cloud cover. We finally lost the sun around 8:00 and were quickly in our bags.

Up at 4:00 to a chilly morning, our first one this week. There was frost on the ground and a skim of ice in our water bottles, which bode well for the upcoming snow climb. We were away by 5:00 after another breakfast of Quaker instant oatmeal. One of these days I have to find some alternatives to Mr. Quaker. Using our headlamps to guide us, we each found our own route across and up the talus to the base of our climb. As we started up, my short legs didn't have a chance of keeping up with Matt and Mike, though my nerves wouldn't have let me anyway. It truly feels like you're in a cocoon when you are climbing along, isolated from your partners by the intervening darkness. We regrouped (Matt and Mike waited for me) at the start of the couloir where the rays of the sun crept down the face towards us. The couloir we picked, the only one left with any amount of snow in it, is located on the western side of the north face. (If anyone knows the name, I would love to hear from you.) Some rock fall was coming down the route and Mike was hit in the foot by a golf ball sized piece. The first time ever as he exclaimed, and Mike has climbed for years in North America, Europe, and Asia. Donning crampons, we started up on very nice, firm snow. Matt and I used axes, but Michael stuck with his trekking poles as he says he most always does. Mike quickly pulled away, with Matt somewhat behind and me still further. I'm new to this game and getting kind of old. That's probably a euphemism for chicken. I understand how to climb French style, and I know the crampon's going to stay there, but it's a long way down. I've climbed waterfall ice for years and I'm much more comfortable facing into the slope rather than out from the slope. Next to that, I'll take the step kicking, especially when someone in front of me kicks them! Pointing feet down hill when you're going up is kind of like leaning into a punch. We stayed on the east side of the couloir to avoid the rock and keep on the firm snow. It was amazing how quickly the snow softened once the sun was on it. At the top of the couloir, we transitioned to what Mike called good alpine ice. Yikes! It looked thin to me. I could have bailed onto the rocks, but stupidity easily replaces commonsense. Anyway, the slope had moderated so I was game. Once we crossed this ice field all that was left was a scramble up more talus to the top. If my memory serves me correctly, we arrived at the summit around 8:15 - 8:30. We stayed there and enjoyed the views for about an hour, then started down the normal route. But first we had to practice some more on the ice field. Going up is so much nicer than going down. I survived after a near miss when I snagged a crampon on my pants leg. Concentrate. We took the normal route down to the first saddle then cut northeast, down a steep grass slope back to our campsite. On the way, Matt spied a Nalgene bottle and made the extra ¼ mile hike across the slope to retrieve it. Evidently, someone dropped it up on the ridge and this was its resting spot. It probably fell, bounced about 1,000 vertical feet. They truly are tough. We arrived back at camp around 11:30 for a total of 6.5 hours round trip. We lounged around some more, but none of us could bear the thought of another afternoon in the sun, so we broke camp and headed out around 1:00. We were like horses heading back to the barn and we made the hike out in about 2.0 hours, compared to 3 on the way in. Isn't down hill wonderful?