So there we were, atop Mount Bierstadt at 6:45am on a cool, windy August morning. My newfound compatriot (Tony) and I had about 1½ miles to the summit of Mount Evans. Between us and it lied the Sawtooth ridge - a Class 3 scramble in places, with some exposure. The first task was to drop about 800 feet from Bierstadt to the lowest saddle point of the ridge. We picked our way down Bierstadt's fairly steep north ridge, aiming for that low point. The descent took about 45 minutes, and the day warmed considerably during that time. At the low point of the ridge, there's an initial Class 3 section to climb up a pinnacle and cross to the ridge's west side. As Tony and I started the climb, we began to have troubles. It was a little trickier than either of us really counted on, and much of the rock was slick with the previous night's frost. That being the case, we climbed back down and re-evaluated our plan of attack. Since neither of us felt too comfortable scaling the slippery rock, we quickly devised plan B - drop down and skirt the cliffs of the Sawtooth on the east side, then climb straight up Mount Evans' southwest slopes and re-join the trail there.

This proved to be a grueling task. We downclimbed almost all the way to Abyss Lake, at 12,300 ft., and then began a long grunt up. Luckily, we were able to do the entire climb on solid rocks and avoid trampling the surrounding plantlife, which made me feel better about it. About 9:30 we attained the top of the slope, which put us right on broad west side of Mount Evans. It also provided our biggest surprise of the day: a face-to-face encounter with a young mountain goat, who didn't even seem the least bit surprised when two panting humans popped their heads up not 10 feet from him. Tony and I both scrambled for our cameras and got a few good shots in before the goat decided we weren't edible, and weren't going to provide food. A few bounds and he was gone.

The next leg of what was turning into a marathon day was to boulder-hop east to Mount Evans' summit. The route runs just to the south (climber's right) of the ridgetop. There's a faintly cairned path along this 0.7 miles, and as long as you pick a decent path along the boulders, it's not difficult at all. Presently, we could see the telltale signs that we were nearing our destination; the Mount Evans Observatory sprang into view, and then the paved parking lot just below the summit. The last few hundred yards of the climb consist of a well-worn footpath that gently switchbacks to the summit marker. After a morning of solitude, we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by people ('gasoline climbers' Tony called them). It was a bit irritating, watching the family from Nebraska gogging for pictures and wheezing and complaining about the altitude. We found an isolated spot away from the crowds and took a break to eat and enjoy the views off Evans' north face, down to Summit Lake and beyond. Although it was hazy, one could make out the entire Denver metro area lying on the flatlands to the east. Way cool!

After about 20 minutes to eat, relax, and shake the gravel out of our boots, it was time to head back to Guanella Pass. Returning over Bierstadt was an unappetizing prospect - it was enough of an effort to get this far, let alone retrace our steps. Luckily, both Roach and Dawson offered an alternative - a west slopes route on Evans that would take us around the cliffs of the Sawtooth on the north side, and then curve back around to Guanella Pass. While it did have some distance involved, it looked like a fairly easy slope, which was just what we were after. We picked our way back along Evans' west ridge to the broad slopes beyond, and angled north along the cairns, aiming to pick up the west slopes trail.

Now comes the bummer part. We could never find the dang trail! The cairns led around to Summit Lake, the opposite direction we were heading. So we just angled off in the general direction of the trail (as documented in the Roach and Dawson guides) and figured we'd intersect it sooner or later. Since we were still mostly rock-hopping, I wasn't too worried about trampling the tundra.

We kept angling northwards and down, and still no trail. Now were were descending mostly grassy slopes with the rocks becoming fewer and fewer, and I was getting a little upset, as this wasn't the most environmentally correct way to go. As we descended below the cliffs we came upon the Gomer Creek drainage, and still nothing, despite the trail markings in both guides. At this point, we decided to just follow the drainage as closely as possible to minimize impact to the surrounding alpine flora. This proved to be a good plan until we started encountering thick groves of willows. Now I was really getting crabby, and I think Tony was secretly starting to hate me for suggesting this route. It was past noon and getting quite hot out, although the persistent wind kept us from sweating too heavily. We decided to hike right down the damned drainage, since every other path looked to require a machete or something of that nature. We alternated between splashing through the creek and hiking on the gravelly sandbars and gingerly making our way through the swampy marshland areas until finally, blissfully, we intersected the well-cut Bierstadt trail. At around 1:45 we made it back to the parking lot, tired and achy. I felt like I'd been through a marathon, and bits of me were sore that usually aren't after a climb. We did some figuring, and it came to about 9¼ hours, 4700 feet of gain, and about 9 miles under our boots. That's a pretty good haul for anybody!

We never did see any kind of a trail for the Evans 'West Slopes' route, so I have to assume that either; a) I completely missed it, which I find hard to believe; b) if there is a trail here, it's mismarked in the guides, or; c) there is no trail, period. Whatever the case, this would be a great winter route, as the slope is never too steep, and a snowcover would eliminate the otherwise environmental unfriendliness of it. It would make for a great snowshoe in and a piece-of-cake ski out. For summer climbing, though, I'd have to recommend staying away from this route, unless you know something I don't. In fact, if anyone's done this one in the summer, please let me know where the &$^@!#!! trail is, please!