This was my first attempt to climb Capitol in one day in the winter, a feat that has never been done.

It was a long drive (nearly six hours) from Colorado Springs to near Aspen. Our chosen route was the Snowmass Creek Trail with the West Snowmass Creek approach. On New Year's Eve I camped next to my car as far as I was able to drive--about 2 miles short of the normal road's end in summer.

That night I slept lightly. Around midnight I was awakened by some distant firecrackers, then again around 2 A.M. I heard a couple walking by on the road. I looked out of my tent and saw that it was snowing lightly.

When I awoke around 4:30 A.M. about 4 inches of new snow had fallen. Assembling my gear I was hiking by 5 A.M. Unfortunately, the battery on my head lamp was dead and there was no moon. The snow had mostly obscured the tracks left over from a pair of skiiers on trail I had noticed the previous evening on a reconnaisance walk.

Once on trail, the first couple of miles were easy enough even with the faint light remaining from my nearly dead lamp. I knew I had to cross the creek soon though. When the valley opened out to my right I decided to just plunge down to the creek and see if I could find evidence of the trail. Soon I did find a sign, but the crossing was looking very daunting. A beaver dam looked like the best prospect. With deep snow obscuring the gaps in the beaver's handiwork, crossing the creek was a long process.

After finally crossing the creek, the way up valley was not obvious. I just could not find the creek that I was supposed to follow. Finally, as the sun began to light up the early morning, I realized I was one valley too far right. Sam the Wolfdog chose this opportune moment to vanish.

Sam was long gone. I called him, waited, called again. No answer. Not even a distant howl. Finally I followed his tracks in the snow. Around and around in circles they went, then up, up and over a ridge, and beyond. Much farther than I wanted to track him. I again waited. After one hour he had been gone longer than he'd ever been. An hour became two. Still no Sam.

I walked back to the creek. I used the natural break in forest as an amphitheater to amplify my voice calling as loudly as I could. For four and half hours I waited. I was losing hope. Sam was gone. Finally I heard a distant plaintive half cry, half howl. Fifteen minutes later the prodigal dog slowly wandered into view, exhausted. Apparently he had wandered over one too many ridges and lost his way.

It was nearly noon by this time, so I had no choice but to abort the attempt on the mountain. Strapping on my tele skis I skiied down snowmobile tracks to the left of the river. I think it was private property, but no one was around, and I was not about to cross that treacherous river again. Besides the skiing was much easier than trail walking. Sam trailed behind, uncomplainingly on leash.