Towers

Castleton Tower rises above the Priest, the Nuns and the Rectory.
Widerman looks at the La Sal range from the top of the tower.

-It was a whirlwind week after a spring storm dumped feet of snow in the Colorado high country. With time requested off from work I had two of the best ski days of the year up at Vail and then John Widerman and I decided to gun for the desert during a break in the weather.
Castleton Tower is a real North American classic. A perfect stovepipe that breaks the horizon from miles away and it has a handful of routes that are possible for a mortals. However I'd heard unfortunate stories sandbagged ratings and people spending the night in the labyrinth of cliffs below the tower.
Getting to Castleton was like getting to another world on the chosen day of ascent. An hour and a half hike straight up the sand and scree took us approximately 1,700 ft. higher than the camp (John had an altimeter). With the previous days weather and an early start it was unbearably cold. By the time we got to the climb our water was a mix of icy slush and it took a great deal of effort to sort gear and prepare. I needed to brush up on my alpine starts.
In my opinion no off width to squeeze box chimney should go at a modest 5.9 rating, but I'm probably just in wuss mode after not having trad climbed in months. All the same after whipping twice on the crux and looking up at a seemingly unprotectable gap and looking down at two other parties waiting below, I started to have some doubts as to whether or not I could pull through.
Long story short we got up and back down with out major incident, but the next night in camp we met a group with one person planning to base jump off the top while his girlfriend planned on paragliding off the saddle; I guess life could always be more extreme. John was a solid partner, especially with my bitching during the long rappels down the other side. Now I just need to find the time to do the other 10 or so towers I have my eye on.
P.S. On the way back I got some good news, one of my photos made its way into the Rock and Ice gear guide. It's not a paying position, but it's a start. The picture is of Dean on Slice and Dice in Indian Creek.

White Pine

I didn't see any if there were.

Tomichi Pass overlooking Hancock Pass which eventually leads to St. Elmo. 

Tomichi was the smaller of two cemeteries in the valley.

With four separate bedrooms, a community sleeping area, full kitchen, indoor bathroom ect. the place was awesome.

The mine.  Signs prohibited entry due to high concentrations of lead,

I recently went up to an old ghost town called White Pine for my friend John Fulton's Birthday. One of the local brewer's assistants owns a huge lodge there that runs horseback trips during the summer, but in the winter it along with some of the other summer cabins that still exist are deserted and only accessible by snowmobile.  

So after work one evening we loaded the gear, skis, five people and two dogs onto a snowmobile-sled combo and braced for a bumpy six-mile moonlight trip up to the lodge. (the keg and food had already gone in two days previously)

White Pine was silver mining town with a boom in 1878, but after a plunge in silver prices in 1894 the town was nearly deserted.  The original site was moved due to repeated destruction by avalanches.  The actual townsite has several seasonal cabins intertwined among the shells of late 1800's dwellings.   

It was a great experience, essentially a hut trip minus most of the hike.  The next morning we hiked up to Tomichi Pass and skied the back side.  Most of the snow was crust up until that point though. 

There were coyote's everywhere making there presence known through their cries, trails of scat and leaving the dogs nervous at night while skiing out ahead and alone I startled one down in the creek bed.  It had a start up the hill and got stuck in a drift momentarily.  Although I got close I couldn't get my glove off and my camera out in time to get proof.  Later that day my friend said that fresh coyote tracks over laid my own for several miles.