We left Colorado Springs Friday afternoon with high hopes of camping on Halfmoon Creek Road that night so we could get an early start the next morning. Too bad I forgot my sleeping bag. So we snagged a hotel in Buena Vista--in the nick of time as this being the first day of the Memorial Day weekend the town filled up fast. Next morning I slept through the quiet alarm of my wrist watch and we didn't actually begin hiking until shortly after 8 AM.

Halfmoon Creek Road is a familiar road for me. The Leadville Trail 100 mile race traverses the lower section, while Nolan's 14 100 mile race traverses the upper portion. Separately I have climbed both Massive and Elbert, the two highest peaks in Colorado from this road. About 9 miles up the road and 2 miles after a sign warned "high clearance 4-W drive vehicles only past this point" I pulled up my '89 Honda Accord at the junction with Forest Road 110J that leads to the ruins of Iron Mike Mine along the back (west) side of Mt Elbert. Forest Road 110J immediately crosses Halfmoon Creek. In 2001 when I attempted 9 fourteeners in 24 hours I drove my high clearance truck across the stream without difficulty before gaining another 2 miles where I camped out at 11,000 feet for our midnight start.

Today, a single notched log across Halfmoon Creek represented our hopes for a dry crossing. To make the crossing easier, I tossed our poles across, but only Rebekka's lodged on the opposite bank. I watched in dismay as my poles floated downstream. Focused to immediate action I didn't waste time worrying about falling off the narrow log and scampered adroitly along the narrow log, flung my pack down on the opposite bank, and hurried downstream. After 100 yards I retrieved one pole where I found it hung up on low hanging branches. Then a further 100 yards downstream the other pole had its progress halted by a log in midstream. Here I had to wade in to retrieve it. By the time I returned to the original crossing point Rebekka had managed to scoot across the log, but Sam was worrying himself into a frenzy on the opposite bank. With my feet already wet I plunged in, grabbed his collar and harness, and dragged him across.

Thus began our adventure.

The road switchbacks once as it climbs a mile and half to yet another stream crossing where I camped in 2001. Rebekka and I both made it across the three spindly logs over the abyss, but once again Sam held back and I had to wade back to drag his butt across.

Sam is going on nine years old and I'm afraid his glory days are "zu Ende". In his prime he climbed 52 of Colorado's 54 14,000' peaks under his own power. Today he was content to hang out at the 12,000' elevation "Iron Mike Mine" ruins and await our return from the mountain summit.

After a further mile or more we lost the road in the snow pack, but by following the valley course and more steady slogging we eventually came on it again just before reaching its terminus at the ruins of the Iron Mike Mine. Here we set out sights to the SW and Friscol, the col between Frasco Benchmark and today's goal, French Mountain.

From the vantage point of Iron Mike Mine, the way up looked steep. I hoped, however that it would "lay down" as we neared the actual slopes. Indeed as we made our approach it did become much less treacherous and to my relief the snow was solidly packed and not "avalanche ready".

Unfortunately Rebekka's snowshoes are not good enough for the steep snow slopes and about 700' vertical feet shy of the summit she decided to turn back.

With gathering clouds, increasing winds, and incipient snow I made a beeline for the summit, reaching it inside of half an hour. I didn't linger on French's summit and soon caught back up with Rebekka and later Sam the Wolfdog at Iron Mike Mine where he patiently awaited our return.

Of course we had the two stream crossings awaiting us. Sam was mentally prepared this time and needed no extra "encouragement" to cross.