Atop the Castle

There is a landmark near our house.  It is called the Vermillion Castle.  It is, as the name implies, a towering pile of steep, red rock.  There is a trail—the Vermillion Castle Trail—but it mostly winds around in the foothills.  There is really no way to the top.

At least, I didn't think so.  I was scrambling around yesterday.  At the top of a long rocky slope I found a little ledge I could climb.  I traversed it and popped out onto another rock fall.  At the top of that, I found a little saddle.  Around a hoodoo at the end of the saddle and then there was a little snow slope that went directly to the final wall, a sheer block of rock at the top.  Under the block there was a corner.  I got around the corner and onto another snow field.  Up.  Another little saddle and a couple of blocks.  Up the blocks.  Bam.  Sky above me.

It was kind of late because, when you're that close to the top, you don't stop climbing.  I turned around at 5:30.  The sun was down and it was getting dusky.  I skittered down snow slopes and jumped from ledges.  It took 25 minutes but I made it to the Chev by full dark.  Eleven hundred vertical feet.