Maroon Bells

The Maroon Bells provide one of the most aesthetically pleasing skylines in Colorado. My first encounter with these historic mountains was in the summer of 2023, while I was attempting the Rocky Mountain Slam (RMS). The RMS is a thru-hike spanning nearly 3,000 miles. It involves climbing Colorado’s 58 fourteeners, Wyoming’s 37 thirteeners, and Montana’s 27 twelvers. Every step is completed on foot—no hitchhiking, no trains, no buses. I won’t go any further into the details, as I could easily write a novel about that journey alone.

In mid-July, I left Aspen to begin the Elks Traverse, a 53-mile line connecting all seven fourteeners in the Elk Mountain Range. The day before, I had summited Mount Massive, walked over Independence Pass, and descended Route 82 into Aspen—a 15-hour day that left my body feeling broken. At that point, I had summited 39 fourteeners in the last 35 days.

I began the traverse with Capitol Peak, often considered the deadliest mountain in Colorado. Before reaching its scramble-heavy terrain, the route took me over K2, a 13,000-foot peak. There, I dropped my pack, knowing I’d return soon to retrieve it before continuing deeper into the wilderness. It was extremely rare for me to leave my pack unattended, but if Capitol was as serious as people claimed, I didn’t need the extra weight.

Within an hour, I had summited Capitol Peak and was nearly back to my pack. In this rare case, I won’t pretend to hide any arrogance—the peak was surprisingly easy. The horror stories must have been crafted to scare off inexperienced hikers.

As my pack came into view, I saw two furry creatures feasting on it. They looked like zombies gorging on a corpse. I lost all composure—and I’m not too proud of what happened next. From about 40 feet away, I started chucking small rocks at the vermin. My steady hike turned into a sprint. It wasn’t until I was about 10 feet away that they scattered. The two marmots had nearly chewed all the way through one of the shoulder straps of my pack.

I immediately rummaged through my gear to find a miniature tube of superglue and began patching the frayed strap, hoping it would hold for at least a few more days. For a few minutes, I sat on a rock, staring into the vast wilderness and reflecting on existence. After regaining my composure, I continued the traverse.

By all accounts, I was the first to attempt the Elks Traverse that summer. It was still early July, and snow had lingered longer than usual. The first half of the route was buried in snow, with no footprints to follow.

Aside from the chewed-up pack at the start, the Elk 14ers proved rather uneventful—essentially, pure joy. After summiting Snowmass Peak, I ascended the West Ridge of Maroon Peak. I’d first visited the Elk Range when I was 18. It was also my first time in Colorado. I wish I could say that experience had a profound impact on me, but back then, my priorities were more aligned with partying than mountaineering.

The traverse between Maroon Peak and North Maroon Peak is a half-mile of technical terrain—one of the most difficult standard 14er routes in the state. I proceeded with caution, doing my best to stay on route. It was a beautiful morning: clear skies and perfect temperatures. Deep down, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Following the broken ridge, I scrambled up the loose rock toward the summit of North Maroon. A few hundred feet from the summit, I was greeted by two strangers—a pair of rugged mountain goats. Their white coats rippled in the breeze as they perched along the ridge, seemingly unbothered by the exposure beneath their hooves.

 

The next day, I summited Castle and Conundrum Peaks. On July 16th, I returned to town. A 13-mile road walk brought me into downtown Aspen. I had rationed my food for most of the traverse, and all I had left was a cup of rice for the final push. My first stop was Poppycock’s Café, where I ordered two breakfasts: an omelet and French toast. I devoured the overpriced meal with a vengeance.

Still hungry, I headed to Zane’s, a tried-and-true Aspen classic that had just opened for the day. A double bacon cheeseburger from the tavern put my growling stomach at ease. After my rather large breakfast, I headed to City Market to resupply. I grabbed a pint of ice cream to top myself off before heading back into the wilderness.

The Maroon Bells will forever hold a special place in my heart. Adding them to the Alpine Designs collection was a must.