The view from 12,500-foot West Maroon Pass was a highlight of John and Karen Werner’s four-day backpack trip in the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness near Aspen, Colo. (John Werner photos / Waco Tribune-Herald)

If you’re Billy Joel, take the piano to Colorado.

If you’re a backpacker, leave the baby grand at home.

Since the start of the year, I planned to backpack the four-pass loop around the Maroon Bells, one of the jewels of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains.

The 26-mile loop near Aspen crosses four mountain passes that surpass 12,400 feet, four creek crossings and encompasses some of the most beautiful scenery in the country.

It was an ambitious plan for a couple of 50-something, slightly out-of-shape hikers, to say the least.

The Maroon Bells are one of the most photographed spots in Colorado and a great destination for hikers.
John Werner/Waco Tribune-Herald

My wife, Karen, and I have done a lot of memorable backpacks in the past several years, beginning with a hike to the floor of the Grand Canyon in 2004. We followed with trips on the John Muir Trail in Yosemite National Park, Desolation Wilderness in Lake Tahoe, the Grand Tetons loop and Chicago Basin in Colorado.

Some of those hikes had their tough moments.

But the four-pass loop we did last week was a different animal altogether.

The first clue that all might not go right on the four-day hike was in the first mile as we climbed toward Crater Lake, which sits at the foot of the Maroon Bells.

A lady with a daypack looked at me quizzically.

“How much weight are you carrying in that pack?” she said.

“I don’t want to know,” I said. “But it feels like I’ve got a piano on my back.”

I should have weighed the piano (I mean, the pack) before I started the hike, but I think I was hauling 55 to 60 pounds. Karen’s pack weighed less, but she was also carrying a load up the mountain.

A friend of mine named Buddy Gilchrest gave me the huge pack a few years ago, and I’ve made good use of it. But it’s not very wise to fill it to the brim when you’re trying to cross four steep mountain passes.

I stuffed the pack with essentials like a tent, sleeping bag, air mattress, a few extra clothes, food and a water purification pump. On this trip, we needed to bring some light water sandals for stream crossings, so that added a little extra weight.

We didn’t bring many of the comforts of home up the mountain, but every ounce counts.

In retrospect, we should have brought less food, especially heavy fruit like apples and oranges. We should have shared one sleeping bag. Though it beats sleeping on the hard ground, we probably could have done without the air mattresses.

I usually carried at least a half gallon of water at all times. But I probably could have carried less since I had a water pump, and water was gushing from mountain streams.

One thing we couldn’t do without was a topographical map of the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness. About a mile up the trail I realized that we had left it in the car, so I raced back and retrieved it, putting us even farther behind to start the hike.

Heading to Crater Lake

We finally got up to Crater Lake in the middle of the afternoon.

If you’re going to do one short hike in the Rockies, this is the one.

I can’t think of a more beautiful site anywhere in the country except the Grand Canyon. I’d put the sculpted peaks of the Maroon Bells up against Yosemite Valley and the Grand Tetons. It’s probably the most photographed spot in Colorado for good reason.

With the Maroon Bells as a backdrop, our ham sandwiches and Cheese Nips tasted like a juicy 20-ounce steak.

They’re smiling now, but John and Karen Werner’s backpacks felt like pianos as they approached 12,000 feet in the Rockies.
John Werner/Waco Tribune-Herald

Most hikers stop here and head back to their cars for a scenic 3.2-mile round trip, but we kept moving up the trail through the bushes and mountain scree. About a mile up the trail, we found our first creek crossing. After gauging the best place to cross, we put on our water sandals and made our way across the creek with the aid of our hiking poles.

By the way, where were Kevin Costner and Goldie Hawn? Don’t they have homes in Aspen?

They must have done the four-pass loop another day.

We stopped for our first night of camping somewhere near West Maroon Creek, cooked up some freeze-dried beef stroganoff, and collapsed in our sleeping bags.

We had gone a grand total of 3.5 miles (5.5 if you count my run to the car to retrieve the map).

After rising at the crack of dawn the next morning, we packed our stuff for an early hike to our first mountain pass. It looked like about two miles to West Maroon Pass, and I was hoping we’d get there about 9 a.m.

We ran into a hiker we had seen the previous day.

“Oh, you got about four hours to the pass,” he said.

This guy looked like a strong hiker, so I was stunned by that news. So we kept moving through lush meadows and streams, gradually climbing toward the pass. My pack began to feel like the size of that piano Tom Hanks danced on in the 1980s movie “Big.”

Acclimation struggles

I felt like I was walking in quicksand. I realized that it wasn’t just the pack slowing me down, I hadn’t properly acclimated to the 12,000-foot elevation that we were approaching. I’ve had very little problem with acclimation at high altitudes in the past, but we had always warmed up with long dayhikes before we attempted a backpack.

A few hundred feet from West Maroon Pass, I was really wrestling with myself. It was almost 11 a.m. and we still had another 12,000-foot pass to cross that day. Since afternoon thunderstorms often move in around 3 p.m., you should avoid being on an exposed mountain pass.

Lightning, not bears, is my biggest fear in the wilderness.

“Karen, I think we need to go up to West Maroon Pass, and turn around,” I said reluctantly. “We’re going to have a hard time making the next pass.”

The view from West Maroon Pass was stunning as we saw Pyramid Peak to the north and Treasure Mountain to the south. A dog that was looking like he was having the time of his life ran up to the crest of the pass. There was still snow on the higher reaches of the peaks, which made for a nice contrast to the green mountain valleys.

It was time for Plan B, which really isn’t a bad option in a place as beautiful as the Maroon Bells. Even Plans X, Y and Z would work here.

After heading back toward West Maroon Creek, we stopped at an incredible campsite in the middle of the afternoon. We had hiked a grand total of four miles in eight hours, which must be a Guinness record for slow hiking.

Porcupine’s salty snack

Surrounded by stunning mountains, we had the kind of view that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie would pay $500 a night for in Aspen. The 50-degree weather was great for sleeping, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night. Some critter was outside our tent chewing on something, but we couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

When I woke up the next morning, I found that a porcupine had chewed up the handles of my hiking poles. They apparently love salt created by the sweat from your hands, but fortunately I could still use the poles.

We walked a few miles back to Crater Lake and set up our tent at another great spot just before lunch.

A porcupine chewed these hiking poles overnight, but left the tent and backpacks alone.
John Werner/Waco Tribune-Herald

We shed the backpacks and headed up to Buckskin Pass with a daypack. It was like trading a piano for a ukulele.

I wish I could adequately describe the beauty of the landscape on the three-mile trail heading up to Buckskin Pass. Not only did we get a bird’s-eye view of the Maroon Bells, we saw waterfalls and an array of colorful wildflowers that bloom in the lush grass of the mountain meadows.

The view from Buckskin Pass is one of the best in Colorado, which means it’s one of the best anywhere. Snowmass Mountain, one of the state’s 54 14,000-foot peaks, stood like a fortress in the background. Below the mountain is one of the most charming mountain lakes you’ll ever see.

Just a few weeks ago, Buckskin Pass was still impassable because of a snow cornice. So we felt fortunate to get a view from the top of the 12,400-foot pass.

Hiking back from Buckskin Pass, Karen was singing like she was Maria Von Trapp skipping through the Alps. I’ve got to think that some of her joy came from not having to haul a heavy backpack down the mountain.

We were tired when we returned to our campsite, but it was a peaceful night with no porcupines chewing our equipment. We had a breakfast of Clif Bars and fruit the next morning in front of the Maroon Bells before hiking back to our car.

After some misadventures, Karen and I learned a few lessons: Pack lighter, acclimate longer and don’t leave your hiking poles out for porcupines to gnaw on.

But even a few misadventures can’t spoil four spectacular days in the Maroon Bells.

jwerner@wacotrib.com

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