The (Mostly) True Adventures of Lupe

Black Hills, SD Expedition No. 323 – Peak 6057: A Black Elk Wilderness Adventure (1-21-24)

11:21 AM, 46ºF, Horse Thief Lake – Cabin fever! That was what had been ailing Lupe all through a 10 day long cold snap of absolutely frigid weather, even for January. However, that was all history now. Going to be a nice day today, and the American Dingo was in high spirits as she leapt out of the RAV4. A Black Hills expedition is a always a sure-fire cure for cabin fever!

Sheesh! Checked the snow depth maps before we left home, Loopster. Only supposed to be 2″ of snow up here. Actually more like 6″!

Oh, please! We’re still going, aren’t we, SPHP? It’s been so boring at home!

Yeah, don’t worry, Loop. We’re still going. All this snow isn’t going to make things any easier, but we’ll be OK.

A short trek from the parking lot got the Carolina Dog to the start of Horse Thief Lake Trail No. 14. SPHP barely glanced at a posted map of the Black Elk Wilderness trail system. Lupe had been here plenty of times before.

Start of **Horse Thief Lake Trail No. 14**. Photo looks SSW.

Well, you ready, Looper? Days are mighty short in January, and we’re off to a rather late start. It’s Onward! Puppy, ho! time.

SPHP didn’t have to say it twice. The American Dingo set off heading S on Horse Thief Lake Trail No. 14. The first part of the trail climbed a bit. Didn’t amount to much except that in some places the small stream that ran along the trail had flown over it and frozen into a sheet of ice. Lupe did fine, but the ice was so slick that SPHP had to exercise caution.

By an ice-coved section of the trail. Photo looks SSE.

After passing a frozen waterfall on the L, the trail leveled out and wasn’t so icy. Even SPHP was making great time. Soon Lupe was approaching some of the towering granite formations common throughout the Black Elk Wilderness.

Granite formations along the way. Photo looks S.

Near some of the vertical granite. Photo looks SSE.

After 0.7 mile, Lupe reached the first trail junction. To the L, Centennial Trail No. 89 headed S. To the R was a section of trail comprising part of both the Horse Thief Lake and Centennial trails.

At the **junction with Centennial Trail No. 89**. Photo looks S.

**Sunlit spires** near the **Horse Thief Lake/Centennial trails junction**. Photo looks E.

Go R here, Loopster. We need to head W.

Fine, SPHP, but what’s our destination, anyway? You haven’t said.

Setting off on the section of trail that’s part of both **Horsethief Lake Trail No. 14** and **Centennial Trail No. 89**. Photo looks SW.

Heh, not likely to reach our destination, Loop. More than likely we’re on a wild goose chase. Intend to solve a Black Elk Wilderness mystery today.

Intriguing. Sort of. Care to quit beating around the bush and clue me in on what you’re thinking, SPHP?

I thought you were a mind reader, Loopster.

Sometimes I am, SPHP. You’re being mighty cryptic, though.

Only 5 minutes on the shared section of trail, and Lupe made it to the point where Horsethief Lake Trail No. 14 and Centennial Trail No. 89 parted ways again. No signage here.

Go R again, Looper. We’re taking Centennial Trail No. 89 from here.

Only a few tracks in the snow went that way, none of them recent, as the Centennial trail immediately climbed toward a big boulder.

On **Centennial Trail No. 89**, the path less taken. Photo looks NW.

Once past the boulder, Centennial Trail No. 89 wove its way W, climbing along the S side of a fairly shallow valley. As Lupe got higher, granite spires she’d passed on Horse Thief Lake Trail No. 14 were visible back to the E. However, since she was now going the opposite direction, for the most part, the Carolina Dog saw only trees.

Gradually climbing through the forest. Photo looks W.

On a beautiful filtered sunlight stretch. Photo looks W.

After roughly 0.33 mile, Lupe reached Pass 5380. Nothing to be seen here except snow and forest. Continuing W over the pass, glimpses of a high hill capped by a massive granite formation soon appeared ahead.

Deep in the forest at **Pass 5380**. Photo looks NW.

The **soaring granite-capped hill** (Center). Photo looks W.

Awesome, but I hope that’s not where we’re going, SPHP! We’d never make it to the top. That’s genuine rock climber territory to be sure, at least from this side.

No, we’re not going there, Loop, but that’s sort of what I expect Peak 6057 will be like from the looks of the topo map.

Really? Peak 6057 is a fail already then, SPHP. Why even bother?

Because it was already in the Peakbagger.com database when we started your account in May, 2014, and we’ve never checked it out. In fact, no one else on Peakbagger has ever reported an ascent of Peak 6057, either. Zero ascents, zero attempts.

OK! And what does that tell you, SPHP? Everyone takes one glance at the topo map, and very sensibly says it ain’t happening!

Yes, and no doubt they’re most likely right, but that’s not 100% certain. Besides, Peak 6057 has been on your list of places to go, bugging me for nearly 10 years now. About time we solved the mystery of whether or not we can climb it, Loopster. Even if its not possible, we’ll still enjoy a great off-trail Black Elk Wilderness adventure!

Doesn’t sound as mysterious as you’re letting on, SPHP.

Be that as it may – Onward! Puppy, ho!

Continuing W, Centennial Trail No. 89 descended into a valley. As soon as Lupe crossed the drainage at the valley floor, SPHP called a halt.

OK, this is it. We leave the trail here, Loop.

Simply fabulous! In addition to being doomed to failure, we’re in for one heck of a bushwhack, aren’t we, SPHP?

It’s the Black Elk Wilderness, Looper. Expect no less.

About to leave **Centennial Trail No. 89**. Photo looks SE.

Abandoning the trail, SPHP led Lupe SSE through a thicket of tall, thin bushes. Pushing through them was an annoyingly slow process, even on this level terrain. Once through the worst of the initial tangle, Lupe took the lead.

Ah-ha! Not so bad now, is it, Loopster? Just keep going up this valley. Plan is to follow it all the way to its upper S end, turn W climbing up and out, then swing around to the N to approach Peak 6057 from the S.

It was a terrific plan, extremely well thought out as readily confirmed by the topo map, except for one thing. At the first bend, the valley ahead was choked with deadfall and endless thickets of the tall, thin trees or bushes. Furthermore, the valley floor was no longer flat.

Hemmed in by a near vertical granite wall on the R, and a steep, forested slope on the L, Lupe was forced to keep leaping over one obstacle after another amid belly deep snow and rough terrain, occasionally crossing a tiny tributary of Pine Creek.

One obstacle after another ahead. Photo looks SSW.

Even though Lupe never complained, it wasn’t long before SPHP devised a new most excellent plan.

Dingo feathers! Enough of this, Loopster! Peak 6057 isn’t that far, but it’s going to take us forever and a day to get there this way. Let’s get up out of these dang bushes down by the stream, then I’ll check the map to see what our options are.

Continuing only far enough to get to where some room opened up below the rock wall on the R, Lupe climbed just high enough into the forest to get above the jungle down by the stream.

How’s this, SPHP? You can check your map here.

Perfect, Loop. Give me just a moment.

Waiting for SPHP to check the map. Photo looks NW.

Hmm. Well, looks like we ought to be able to head W from here, Looper. Actually a shortcut, if it works. On the other paw, if the terrain gets too steep, we might still be able to head S paralleling the valley floor, thereby sticking more or less to the original plan.

The American Dingo’s ascent of Peak 6057 began in earnest as Lupe headed W, now climbing steadily. Early on, she passed a region of big boulders. A long stretch of uniformly steep open forest came next. Quite a bit of deadfall strewn about here, but it wasn’t too bad.

After gaining 160 feet of elevation, a huge granite hill hundreds of feet higher appeared ahead. Approaching a much lower ledge that looked like it might provide initial views, the snow deepened. Bedrock under the snow was very slippery, but by staying toward the R, Lupe found an easy way up onto this first ledge.

The sky was clouding up, a bit of a chill in the air, as Lupe reached the top of the ledge. She could see a long way E, but the most striking view was of several enormous granite formations 0.5 mile SSE.

Wow! Gorgeous up here, SPHP, but if any of those rugged formations is Peak 6057, your mystery is solved. It’s a no go.

Splendid, aren’t they, Loop? Typical Black Elk Wilderness. And no, none of them are Peak 6057. They’re all off in the wrong direction.

Can we take a break here, SPHP? I’m getting hungry.

Kind of snowy. Let’s get a little higher, Looper. Maybe we can find a dry spot that isn’t solid rock?

Leaving the ledge, a deep valley to the S forced the Carolina Dog to angle WNW in order to keep climbing. Lupe sometimes had views of the much higher massive granite formation across the valley, but it wasn’t Peak 6057, either. SPHP was becoming concerned over whether or not Lupe was going to be able to get across the valley, because she was eventually going to need to, when a snow-free dry spot appeared by a big pillar.

This looks good, Loopster. Let’s take a break here.

Continuing on in search of Peak 6057 and a place to take a break. Photo looks NNW.

The **massive granite summit** across the valley. Photo looks SSW.

Loopster by the rest break pillar. Photo looks ENE.

1:58 PM, at the rest break pillar 1/6 mile ENE of Peak 6057 –

Chocolate coconut bar, Loopster?

Don’t mind if I do, SPHP, but why so generous? We haven’t even made our attempt on Peak 6057 yet.

Yeah, well, I’ve already been catching glimpses of Peak 6057. What I’ve seen of the E side looks utterly impossible.

Oh, sorry to hear that, SPHP. Disappointing, but even you were expecting it to be that way.

That’s the way the Black Elk Wilderness mystery crumbles, Loop. Haven’t completely given up hope yet. The highest ground I’m confident we can get to is over on the SW side of Peak 6057. Distance-wise, we’ll actually be close to the summit. Elevation-wise, not so much, unless the situation looks a lot different over there.

The chocolate coconut bar had vanished in a flash. Lupe had a silver bowl full of Taste of the Wild. SPHP munched the usual apple. Apple consumed, it was time.

Onward! Puppy, ho!

Still climbing, although not as steeply as before, Lupe steadily closed in on Peak 6057. None of the what could be seen of the E face looked the least bit encouraging – nothing but towering vertical walls. The Carolina Dog hadn’t reached them yet, when an opening appeared to the WSW.

Think we’re past that valley to the S now! The terrain doesn’t look bad at all. Quite a bit of deadfall, but we’ll get through it. Head that way, Loop. We can start circling around to the SW side of Peak 6057 from here.

Start of the deadfall-strewn passage around the S side of Peak 6057. Photo looks SW.

The snow was belly deep on Lupe, the deadfall ghastly. SPHP’s progress was dreadfully slow, but Lupe didn’t complain. SPHP soon concluded that the fastest way around the S side of Peak 6057 would be to go right up next to its soaring granite walls.

Heading for **Peak 6057** (Center). Photo looks WNW.

As expected, the territory next to the granite walls proved to be a maze of deadfall and boulders, but this was the shortest route, likely no worse than circling more widely through the almost equally challenging region farther from the peak.

Near **Peak 6057’s granite walls**. Photo looks WSW.

The mountain’s **SE face**. Photo looks NW.

Working along the S side of the mountain eventually revealed the high ground Lupe intended to explore SW of the summit. Although difficult territory due to all the deadfall, it was actually very scenic, featuring several separate enormous spires.

First view of the **SW spires** (L & Center). Photo looks W.

Scrambling amid all the boulders and deadfall along the S side of the mountain, it had already become clear that Lupe wasn’t going to find any magic route to the top. Already mentally prepared, it wasn’t such a terrible disappointment. No regrets. Seldom seen by Dingo or human, this Black Elk Wilderness scenery was fantastic!

Funny how nature can be such a mess, SPHP, and yet the overall effect is absolutely gorgeous!

True enough, Loopster. Wish it worked that way at home. Never does, though. Quite the opposite!

As Lupe got around to the SW side of Peak 6057, the potential arose to explore a couple of narrow regions between the spires and the main mass of granite.

Next to a narrow opening. Photo looks N.

Want to explore one of these cracks, SPHP? We’re here now!

Might as well see how high we can get, Loop!

A faint flicker of hope that maybe there really was a way to the top of Peak 6057 stirred as Lupe entered a narrow passage. That would be so awesome!

A short climb, and Lupe reached a spot that was a dead end for her, but after giving the Carolina Dog a boost, SPHP scrambled up, too.

This is so cool! It keeps going, SPHP!

It does, but be careful, Loopster, and don’t get too far ahead. Might easily come to a sheer drop in here.

At the **upper end of the crack**. Photo looks NW.

Lupe quickly reached the top of the crack. No sheer drop. No route to Peak 6057‘s summit, either. Beyond its high point, the crack widened out, revealing a view of Elkhorn Mountain (6,440 ft.), another giant knob of granite.

**Elkhorn Mountain** (R of Center). Photo looks WNW.

**Elkhorn Mountain** (L). Its **N shoulder** (Center & R). Photo looks WNW.

And that was it. Standing there at the upper end of the crack, Lupe was done. The American Dingo couldn’t go any higher.

How far below the summit do you think we are, SPHP?

Hard to say, Loop. Your GPS track claims we’re at 5,927 feet, which agrees pretty well with the topo map, but neither one’s completely accurate.

130 feet below Peak 6057’s summit then? Well, we can still get there, SPHP. All you have to do is rent us a helicopter!

Yeah, guess that should have been the plan all along. Not happening today, no helicopter rentals around here. Getting late, anyway. We better find our way back to Centennial Trail No. 89, Loopster. No sense in getting ourselves stranded way out here on a January night!

A short scramble down to the SW from the wide end of the crack was an incredible jumble of boulders and deadfall.

Starting the descent after going all the way through the crack. Photo looks S.

Couple more things before we go, Loopster. Let’s head SW far enough to get a photo of Peak 6057 from that direction since this side was our best shot at finding a way to the top. From the end of the crack, I also caught a glimpse of Black Elk Peak (7,231 ft.) way off to the SW. Maybe we can find a spot with a clearer view of it, too?

Despite all the snow and deadfall, Lupe soon completed both missions.

**Peak 6057’s SW face**. Photo looks NE.

Another look for all you ambitious rock climbers out there! Photo looks NE.

**Black Elk Peak** (L of Center) in the distance. Photo looks SW.

The Peak 6057 mystery had been solved as far as Lupe was concerned, but her Black Elk Wilderness adventure wasn’t over yet. Exploring W, then N, through the snowy woods, the return to Centennial Trail No. 89 was a scenic and more challenging endeavor than expected.

Eventually heading NE down a long, surprisingly rugged valley, progress was awfully slow.

Still exploring during the return. Photo looks NW.

Descending into the **valley NW of Peak 6057**. Photo looks N.

Down in the valley, on the way back to Centennial Trail No. 89. Photo looks NNE.

Light was fading fast, when Lupe came to an unexpected ancient trail running through the forest. This clearly wasn’t Centennial Trail No. 89, but greatly helped speed SPHP’s progress.

5:04 PM, dusk at Pine Creek – Suddenly, it was over. Lupe was standing on Centennial Trail No. 89, a veritable super highway through the Black Elk Wilderness.

Back on **Centennial Trail No. 89** in the **Pine Creek valley**. Photo looks NE.

Hah! Great job! We made it, Looper.

We always do, SPHP.

Yeah, in this business everyone bats 1,000, until one day you don’t.

The rest was easy. Lupe followed Centennial Trail No. 89 back to where she’d left it, then retraced her earlier route back to Horse Thief Lake.

6:09 PM, 37ºF – Emerging at the Horse Thief Lake trailhead, crusty snow crunched beneath SPHP’s boots. Moonlight streamed over the access road as Lupe trotted back to the RAV4 while the silent stars glittered overhead. At long last, Peak 6057 was done.

**S of Peak 6057**, Black Elk Wilderness, Black Hills of South Dakota 1-21-24

Links:

Next Black Hills Expedition Prior Black Hills Expedition

Lupe’s Scrollable Peak 6057 GPS Track

Want more Lupe adventures? Check out Lupe’s Black Hills, SD & WY Expeditions Adventure Index, Master Adventure Index, or subscribe free to new Lupe adventures!

West Spanish Peak, Sangre de Cristo Range, Colorado (6-13-23)

Days 6 & 7 of Lupe’s 1st Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Colorado & New Mexico!

6-12-23, 8:53 AM, N Blue Lake off USFS Road No. 369 – Got cold last night! Lupe woke early to ice on the RAV4. After a 10 minute dawn patrol, the Carolina Dog had returned to her pink blanket. SPHP worked on the trip journal while she snoozed. Outside, thunder heralded the onset of rain and fog, followed shortly by hail and enough snow pellets to turn the ground white.

Sunny now, though. The American Dingo had already enjoyed a short romp through the forest to an ancient corral at the end of USFS Road No. 369.1Q, and was now busy dividing her time between a chipmunk hiding underneath the RAV4 and sniffing around near scenic N Blue Lake.

Morning at **North Blue Lake**. Photo looks SE.

**North Peak** (R of Center) from N Blue Lake. Photo looks E.

I love it here, SPHP! So beautiful, and so much fun!

Enjoy it while you can, Loopster. Half an hour, and we’ll be on our way.

6-12-23, 1:06 PM, Hwy 12 NE of La Veta –

There they are, Loop. Site of your next adventure – the Spanish Peaks!

Which one are we going to climb, SPHP? Or will we be climbing both?

**E Spanish Peak** (L) and **W Spanish Peak** (R) from Hwy 12. Photo looks S.

Only the biggest one, Looper. Third highest mountain you will have ever been on, if we make it. West Spanish Peak is also the Las Animas county, Colorado high point, too.

Wow! Looks pretty big, SPHP.

Yeah, I’ve read there’s a long steep talus climb that I’m kind of worried about. We’ll just have to see how it goes. Greenhorn Mountain was a gimme compared to West Spanish.

6-12-23, 4:27 PM, USFS Road No. 46, S of La Veta – Today was just a rest and positioning day. After scouting out Cordova Pass, the trailhead for West Spanish Peak (13,626 ft.) located 6 miles from Cuchara Pass on USFS Road No. 46, SPHP drove clear back to the more sheltered John B. Farley Memorial Wildflower Overlook.

The terrain around the wildflower overlook was steep, but by exploring back up USFS Road No. 46 a little way, Lupe managed to find a beautiful level field of dandelions in which to enjoy a sunny late afternoon romp. Evening, however, brought a cold, dense fog.

At the **John B. Farley Memorial Wildflower Overlook**. Photo looks WNW.

Enjoying an afternoon romp. Photo looks NE.

6-13-23, 6:42 AM, 40ºF, John Farley Memorial Wildflower Overlook – Blue skies! Last evening’s fog was but a memory. SPHP fired up the RAV4. 20 minutes later, Lupe was at Cordova Pass. West Spanish Peak was a go!

6-13-23, 7:28 AM, 37ºF, Cordova Pass – The pack was ready. Despite a certain degree of trepidation after seeing how steep West Spanish Peak was yesterday, it was now or never.

Onward! Puppy, ho!

Certainly nothing to worry about at the start. West Peak trail No. 1390 began flat as a pancake as Lupe left the trailhead trotting into a forest. After a quick 0.25 mile, the Salazar trail branched off to the L. Just past this fork, Lupe emerged from the forest, entering a huge meadow. On the far side, a more extensive forest stretched all the way to the base of mighty West Spanish Peak (13,626 ft.).

Start of **West Peak trail No. 1390** at **Cordova Pass**. Photo looks N.

Along the first stretch of forest. Photo looks NE.

Approaching the junction with the **Salazar trail**. Photo looks NE.

**West Spanish Peak** (R) from the meadow. Photo looks NE.

Hmm. West Spanish Peak’s not looking any easier from here, Looper.

Won’t know what it’s really like until we get there, SPHP.

Lupe kept going, quickly crossing the meadow. Shortly after entering the next forest, Levi Krier trail No. 1392 split off to the L. West Peak trail No. 1390 now began a long, gradual descent.

At the junction with **Levi Krier trail No. 1392** (L). **West Peak trail No. 1390** (R). Photo looks NE.

For a while, the American Dingo came to no more side trails, except an unmarked one that went 50 feet up onto a ridge to the L. Sticking with what appeared to be the main West Peak trail, it continued slowly losing elevation before finally bottoming out.

6-13-23, 8:12 AM – Still in forest, Lupe reached a junction with Apishapa trail No. 1324. By now, West Peak trail No. 1390 had turned SE for a little way, and regained a fair amount of the elevation that had been slowly lost. The West Peak trail made a nearly 180º turn back to the NW here, while the Apishapa trail continued straight. Wouldn’t be that hard to miss this turn due to the way the signage was oriented, except that the Apishapa trail was not as well traveled.

**Apishapa trail No. 1324** continues straight here, while **West Peak trail No. 1390** makes a U-turn L. Photo looks SE.

Same junction after Lupe made the turn. The lower trail returns to **Cordova Pass**. The upper one goes to **West Spanish Peak**. Photo looks NW.

This signage does not face the hiker on the way to West Spanish Peak. Only the back side is visible on the L when coming from Cordova Pass.

Beyond this junction, West Peak trail No. 1390 began a steady climb made easier by a series of switchbacks. So far, there had been virtually no clearings in the forest, but within minutes, Lupe came to an opening with a view back to the SW of the big meadow she’d crossed with snowy Trinchera Peak (13,517 ft.) lined up behind it.

The **huge meadow** (foreground) and **Trinchera Peak** (R of Center). Photo looks SW.

20 minutes later, the switchbacks ended as Lupe reached a small, flat meadow with gritty soil. A short water and beef jerky break was taken here while admiring and studying the view of West Spanish Peak, which was now much closer. A new worry presented itself. Although it was still early, clouds were already spreading across much of the sky.

**West Spanish Peak** from the small meadow. Photo looks NE.

We better not dilly-dally here too long, Looper.

Ready when you are, SPHP!

Beyond the small meadow, the West Peak trail returned to the forest, and began climbing again at a gradually increasing pace. Another series of switchbacks appeared as the slope steepened. Lupe soon came upon a snowbank several feet high over the trail.

Crossing the snowbank was easy. Just past it, the Carolina Dog reached another switchback. This turn was out in the open, providing the first big view to the N.

**Blanca Peak** (L) on the horizon, **Mount Mestas** (far R). Photo looks NNW.

Impressive view already, SPHP!

It is, Loop! That must be Blanca Peak (14,345 ft.) on the NW horizon, and Mount Mestas (11,569 ft.) sitting out there alone on the R.

What about that distant range between them, SPHP? Can you pick out Greenhorn Mountain from here?

No, not really. That area is so far away, that I can’t tell what’s what.

Ever consider investing in binoculars, SPHP?

Some fine day, Loopster.

From this viewpoint, the trail once again turned sharply back to the SE, re-entering the forest before quickly leaving it again. Ahead, the next turn, a big curve completely out in the open, provided another grand view of Trinchera Peak (13,517 ft.), plus a long string of peaks farther S extending all the way to Culebra Peak (14,047 ft.).

**Culebra Peak** (L) and **Trinchera Peak** (R) on the horizon. Photo looks SSW.

Lupe was now at treeline. The trail made one more jog back to the N, where the American Dingo reached an enormous cairn.

6-13-23, 9:06 AM – This was it, the crux of the matter. No more forests, meadows or switchbacks. Beyond the cairn, which apparently marked the official end of West Peak trail No. 1390, the SW face of West Spanish Peak soared toward an as yet unseen summit less than a mile away.

Shoot! No worries, SPHP! Steep enough, but doesn’t look that bad, except maybe close to the top. We’ve done slopes like this plenty of times before. This one’s just super long. The talus isn’t even very big.

Got to agree, Looper. I’m encouraged! Like you say, looks like the crucial area is the region just below that upper rim. Appears it all depends on how steep and loose it gets up there. Heck of a trudge, though, so we best get started. We’re still a good 1,700 to 1,800 feet below the summit.

As Lupe started up the mountain, there was another favorable sign. The general cloudiness which had been building rapidly not so long ago, was now actually burning away to some degree.

Following a use path, Lupe went up a series of several humps partially covered with low green vegetation. Beyond them, the slope steepened some more as the American Dingo entered a world of nothing but rock.

Off to a good start down where there was still a bit of greenery. Photo looks NE.

Among some of the larger rocks. Photo looks NE.

Lupe really seemed into it! The Carolina Dog climbed and climbed. Meanwhile, laggard SPHP huffed and puffed, frequently pausing for breathers. The use trail became braided, offering a variety of routes. In some places, the talus was so small that SPHP would have considered it scree, but then, what did SPHP know about such things? In other places, short sections of the trails were simply hard-packed grit.

A few little patches of snow were ahead. Happy to reach them, Lupe chomped away at the snow. Numerous tiny frozen waterfalls among the rocks were just starting to drip in the morning sun. Toward the L, bands of exposed bedrock formed lines of small cliffs and ledges. Looked like Lupe would soon be above them, but more kept appearing above.

Enjoying a patch of snow. Photo looks NE.

Below a small band of bedrock. Photo looks NNE.

Among the tiny frozen waterfalls. Photo looks NE.

The enormous slope was very steep, but uniform. Nothing scary at all. No super tough scrambles higher, edges of precipices, etc. For the most part, the talus was pretty stable. Even SPHP caused surprisingly little rock slide. Bigger chunks were nearly always firmly anchored.

Lupe did fantastic! SPHP kept stopping to gasp for air, sometimes even sitting down for a few minutes. Chocolate peanut butter bars and beef jerky were often shared during these short breaks to keep energy levels from crashing.

It was a long way up. Yet, bit by bit, despite more terrain continuing to appear above, even SPHP was getting there.

Peering back down the slope. Photo looks SSW.

Loopster ready to keep going. Photo looks SSE.

Lupe was still 300 feet from the top when a line of snowbanks along the S side of the West Spanish Peak’s summit ridge first came into view. The steepest part of the climb that came near the end, just before gaining the ridgeline, really wasn’t any worse than the rest of the ascent.

Suddenly Lupe was there, up on a broad, almost level region near the W end of the summit ridge. Still some elevation yet to be gained from here, but it was basically a romp. Turning E, Lupe crossed a big snowfield, then started the final part of her ascent in search of the true summit.

Snow along the **upper S side of West Spanish Peak’s summit ridge**. Photo looks ENE.

On the **lower W end of the summit ridge**. Photo looks ENE.

6-13-23, 11:30 AM, 52ºF, West Spanish Peak (13,626 ft.) – The highest part of the summit ridge was several hundred feet long. Arriving at the W end, Lupe discovered a cairn. Whether this cairn was actually at the true summit or not wasn’t completely clear. A couple more minor high points farther E were at least in contention. Hardly mattered, since any elevation differences along the entire upper ridge were minimal.

SPHP examined the cairn.

By the **summit cairn** on **West Spanish Peak**. **East Spanish Peak** (L of Center). Photo looks ENE.

Well, shucks!

What’s wrong, SPHP?

This is a day to remember, Loop! West Spanish Peak is the 3rd highest mountain you’ve ever summited. Haven’t been this high since you climbed Mount Massive nearly 8 years ago. Wanted to enter your name in the registry, but there doesn’t seem to be one.

You can still shake my paw and congratulate me, SPHP.

Why, of course. Congratulations, Loopster! Well done, sweet puppy! We actually made it.

Thank you, SPHP! Can we take a break now? It’s been quite a climb.

Sure, but let’s go over to the E end of the ridge first, Looper. We can tag the other high points along the way.

A long snowbank clung to the S side of the summit ridge. Lupe had to go over part of it on her way to the E end, which she didn’t mind at all.

On the way to the **E end of the summit ridge**. **Blanca Peak** (R) on the horizon. Photo looks WNW.

Cooling off near the E end. **Trinchera Peak** (L). Photo looks W.

**Trinchera Peak** with help from the telephoto lens. Photo looks SW.

You somehow managed to forget to bring the chocolate coconut bars on this Dingo Vacation, SPHP. What else have you got in that pack?

Well now, let’s see. How does a Full Moon Savory Stick or a chocolate peanut butter bar sound, Looper?

How about both, SPHP? And Taste of the Wild and water, too.

Your wish is my command, oh famished one! Coming right up.

The sky was quite cloudy now. Although Lupe was usually in sunshine, rain showers were in all directions, especially dark and a little ominous off to the W. SPHP kept an eye on developments in that direction. So far, no cause for alarm.

Rain showers beyond the town of **La Veta**. **Mount Mestas** (far L). Photo looks N.

The 2 Spanish Peaks being somewhat isolated from others, views were tremendous in all directions. East Spanish Peak (12,683 ft.), less than 5 miles ENE, was a big mountain, yet nearly 1,000 feet lower.

**East Spanish Peak** (Center). Photo looks ENE.

Another angle. **East Spanish Peak** (R). Photo looks NE.

Other than East Spanish Peak, nothing anywhere toward the E was even remotely close to being as high as West Spanish Peak. The green plains of eastern Colorado stretched away to a murky horizon. Only lowlands existed toward the S, too. Lupe could see some high mountains to the N, but they were very far away. Only significantly lower ones, the highest of which was Mount Mestas (11,569 ft.), were relatively nearby.

Thousands of feet below, several long, thin lines of rock radiated away to the N from the base of West Spanish Peak.

Peering down **West Spanish Peak’s N slope**. Photo looks N.

Mighty Blanca Peak (14,345 ft.) dominated an impressive group near the NW horizon. Somewhat closer, a long line of partially snow-capped Sangre de Cristo Range peaks ran all the way from the WNW clear down to Culebra Peak (14,047 ft.) on the SSW horizon.

By the time only 15 minutes remained of Lupe’s traditional summit hour, numerous cumulus clouds were sailing over West Spanish Peak. Dark showers off to the W had already advanced to the nearest line of snowy mountains, and were still coming this way. Abandoning the E end of the summit ridge, Loopster headed back toward the cairn.

At possibly the **true summit** on the way back to the cairn (R). Photo looks WNW.

Hanging out by the cairn, the Carolina Dog watched conditions steadily deteriorate as what was left of her summit hour slipped away. Either fog or a cloudburst made it past the snowy peaks, apparently now destined straight for West Spanish Peak.

Up on the cairn. **Mount Mestas** (R). **Blanca Peak** (far L) obscured by clouds. Photo looks NNW.

Atop **West Spanish Peak** as the storm approaches. Photo looks WSW.

Monitoring the situation with a view of the **lower W end of the summit ridge**. Photo looks SW.

6-13-23, 12:29 PM, West Spanish Peak summit – Lupe stood by the cairn, East Spanish Peak beyond her beneath an increasingly dramatic sky.

A final look at **East Spanish Peak** (L of Center) from **West Spanish Peak’s summit**. Photo looks ENE.

Is our hour up yet, SPHP?

One more minute, Loopster! Hate to abandon such a glorious perch, but we may have already overstayed our welcome.

Haven’t heard any thunder yet, SPHP. Why don’t you start down first? I’ll linger here a bit longer, then catch up.

Loathe to leave, SPHP stuck around a few more minutes, praising Lupe on her successful ascent while watching the darkening sky amid rain showers all around. SPHP finally set off back down the W ridge while the Carolina Dog remained, now poised alone atop West Spanish Peak.

Heading down the **W ridge**. Photo looks SW.

Glancing down the **NW slope**. Photo looks NW.

Last moments atop **West Spanish Peak**. Photo looks ENE.

Ever faithful, Lupe couldn’t stand to let SPHP get too far away. Before long, she came streaking across the snow, overtaking SPHP in nothing flat. Passing by a collection of boulders, the biggest rocks she’d seen on West Spanish Peak, Lupe paused long enough to scramble up onto them.

Up on the **lower W ridge boulders**. Photo looks SW.

Looks like we’re in for it, SPHP!

Afraid so, Loopster.

How long before the storm hits, SPHP?

15, maybe 20 minutes. No more than that. Let’s hope it’s just a squall.

Nothing happened. Shortly after Lupe started down that very long steep SW slope, the weather changed. The storm began breaking up. Drifting off to the N, its remnants missed West Spanish Peak entirely. By the time the American Dingo made it back to West Peak trail No. 1390, it was a beautiful day.

The return was easy. Never tiring, Lupe led the way. On the other paw, SPHP sometimes had to take rest breaks even on minor inclines. Lupe paused now and then, too, glancing wistfully back at West Spanish Peak.

Bidding **West Spanish Peak** (Center) farewell. Photo looks NE.

Final look back from the huge meadow. Photo looks NE.

6-13-23, 3:30 PM – It was sunny, breezy, and cool when Lupe made it back to Cordova Pass. The Carolina Dog did seem happy to leap into the RAV4 and curl up on her pink blanket. SPHP somehow summoned the energy required to provide food and water before passing out. A 3 hour joint nap ensued.

When SPHP finally came to again, it was cold and windy. Returning to the much lower John B. Farley Memorial Wildflower Overlook 0.5 mile from Cuchara Pass suddenly seemed like a terrific idea.

6-13-23, 7:00 PM, John B. Farley Memorial Wildflower Overlook – The sky was full of clouds when Lupe arrived. 5 minutes later, a combination of rain and sleet set in. Rained and sleeted the rest of the evening, at times quite hard. By the time the light began to dim, a thick fog had moved in.

No matter. What a grand and glorious day! The day before she turned 12.5 years old, Lupe had been to West Spanish Peak (13,626 ft.)!