Redemption List – Colorado’s Mt. Lindsey (14,042 feet)

My brain began to let the excuses pile up in a hurry.

My wife and I welcomed our first child into this crazy world in late January of 2021, and the night of July 12th, 2021 was the first night I’d spent anywhere other than a few feet away from them both in the five months since.

It was the heart of the COVID pandemic, the gym had been closed for over a year, and I was about as out of mountaineering shape as I’d been in my life.

As we neared the trailhead that would lead us up to Mount Lindsey first thing the next morning, we found that established (and expected) car-camping sites had all been scuttled, and that the trailhead parking area had been closed off entirely (see more below). As a result, we were relegated to backtracking further down the road where sites did not exist, meaning we’d be forced to sleep in our cars that night (since the idea of a flat tent-pad didn’t exist on that rocky portion of the road).

Fate would have it that this was the first week I’d been driving my Forester, which I’d picked up due to the need for a safer ride for the car seat that almost always resided in the back at the time. The car was new enough that I had not yet realized that when you put down the back seats in that model, they don’t lay flat with the floor in the trunk. In other words, I would not be laying out an airpad and sleeping bag in an extended space that night. I’d be scrunched up on the back seat itself.

The spot wasn’t flat. I didn’t sleep. I spent too much time trying to sleep at least a little bit that morning that I didn’t get out of the car early enough to make coffee and breakfast. I told myself, idiotically, that the peanut butter crackers I’d instead eat on the fly would be enough to tide me over and get me going.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. The fact was that Mt. Lindsey was much, much better than I was that day, and that’s probably the case most every day.

From the Lily Lake Trailhead in Huerfano County, the hike up Mount Lindsey takes you from a roughly 10,700 feet up the Huerfano River drainage to a summit of either 14,042 feet, 14,048 feet, or 14,055 feet (depending on which measurement source you trust). The 14er ranks as the 43rd highest peak in the state of Colorado, a jewel at the southern tip of the northern Sangre de Cristo Mountains over the shoulder of both Blanca Peak (14,345 feet, 4th tallest in the state) and Little Bear Peak (14,037 feet, 44th in the state).

The trio of peaks flank Great Sand Dunes National Park at the edge of the vast San Luis Valley, a contrast of terrain and landscapes that seems truly out of this world. Sand and snow together, like some crazy mountain beach surrounding a long-ago dried up ocean. The area had been on my to-hike list since the first time I laid eyes on it years ago, and after having climbed Wetterhorn Peak the previous summer – my first Class 3 route up a 14er at that date – I knew empirically that I was ready to take on the northwest ridge of Lindsey, itself a Class 3 scramble, too. This would be 14er number 16 for me, and surely the experience of the previous 15 would be enough to carry me through.

Surely!

My hubris didn’t just blind me from the obvious inputs suggesting I’d be better off getting back in shape and actually, y’know, sleeping once or twice before attempting it. My hubris led me to ignore the fact that I was attempting it with my longtime buddy and hiking partner George, who had not only not had a kid that year, but also stayed in great shape while living in altitude in Vail.

I quickly noticed that I wasn’t just going to struggle to make it up this mountain, but I was going to have to do the whole damn thing by myself. George, barely a thousand or feet into the ascent – and before the technical climbing portion – was running laps around me. My dragging-ass was dragging him down, and I knew that was only going to get worse the further up into the thin air we got.

As you reach around 12,100 feet, the trail veers southeast back into the designated Sangre de Cristo Wilderness, flattening out into something of a park/plateau with the Iron Nipple (13,500 feet) to your left and Mt. Lindsey over its shoulder.

It seemed like a perfect spot to have a seat, sip of water, and a cracker to boost morale. In reality, it became the site where I sat down, sipped water, and announced in a wheeze that I was bailing out on the summit attempt.

I didn’t think I had it that day. I knew I didn’t have it in me to keep up with George, who eventually machined his way to the summit in short order, with the actual climbing coming after I’d thrown in the towel.

I turned around, headed back down the trail, and drove back home to Denver with my tail between my legs. It remains the only time I’ve ever bailed on a 14er attempt after actually making the call to begin the climb.

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Had I known just how difficult it would be to get back to the spot where I bailed, I like to think I’d have found a hidden gear and plowed on. Of course, had I known ahead of time how restricted access would be just two months later, maybe I would’ve pre-planned to be in better shape to start the climb in the first place.

On September 9th, 2021, the people who actually own the land on which the Mt. Lindsey summit sits opted to close access to the peak due to liability concerns. While most every other 14er in the state is on BLM land or National Forest land – i.e. public land, where they should be – Lindsey is one of the few that happens to be owned privately, a concept that I’ll rant about on another day. Point is, based on certain legal interpretations that came to light in high profile cases during the summer of 2021, the owners chose to pull the plug on letting people summit one of the most beautiful peaks in the state.

That likely explains why when we were there, in July, the established car-camping sites had already begun to be decommissioned.

Access to Lindsey remains closed to this day.

The original title for this post was ‘2024 Redemption List – Colorado’s Mount Lindsey (14,042 feet),’ but I highly doubt I, or anyone else that doesn’t own the mountain, will get the chance to climb it this year. The Colorado Fourteeners Initiative is going to continue to advocate like crazy that it reopen, and do the dirty work behind the scenes to hopefully make it happen at some point along the way, but I fear it’s still just going to take more time.

For now, the Redemption Tour will have to remain on hold, and this one in particular sticks in my craw due to my own self-inflicted reasons for failing. I will see you again at some point though, Mt. Lindsey.

Speaking of the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative, if you’ve got the inclination to donate to their efforts to not just reopen Mt. Lindsey, but to maintain access to all 14ers in the state, you can make a donation to them here.