Something changed that day.
Maybe it was while he was bear-hugging the snowy knife ridge, wallowing upward for hours at 13,000 feet with sheer, 1,000-foot drops on each side. Or maybe it was on his first turns on a 60-degree incline above 1,000-foot cliffs. It could have been when he delicately clicked out of skis, clinging to nearly vertical snow and rock above those crazy-big cliffs, and slipped on crampons for hairball rock climbing to reach more vertiginous snow.
Somewhere on the 14,130-foot Capitol Peak, Aspen mountaineer Chris Davenport felt his world shift.
For his partner that day, photographer and accomplished big-mountain climber Neal Beidleman, it was a bold but calculated climbing endeavor more than a ski descent. For Davenport, a pro freeskier with fresh ink on his mountaineering résumé, it was a highlight of an illustrious ski career and the unrivaled apex of his quest to ski all of Colorado’s fourteeners in a single season. It was even more rewarding than the duo’s week-before descent of the Landry Route down 14,018-foot Pyramid Peak, which was last skied by pioneer Chris Landry some 28 years ago. It may have been more rewarding than the big-picture goal.
Before those two hills, Davenport was reluctant to acknowledge the increasing likelihood he would not achieve his lofty goal of skiing all 54 of Colorado fourteeners in a single season. (Paltry snowfall on the Front Range and Sangre de Cristos has left many of the tallest peaks in those eastern ranges impossible to ski from the summit.)
But now, after his soul-stirring descents on Pyramid and Capitol, Davenport is sated. Yes, he acknowledges – barring a hearty series of spring snowstorms along the eastern flanks of the Rockies – his goal probably will take more than one snow season. He knew success required an epic snow year that never arrived for some parts of the state. He’s humbled yet inspired by the embrace he has felt on Colorado’s highest points.
“This project has in every way exceeded my expectations. I never expected to ski the quality lines I’ve skied,” he said last week after a quick morning notching the San Juans’ Handies Peak. “A lot of people are e-mailing me that even if I quit right now, already what I’ve done is a great mountaineering achievement in the history of the state. I am feeling incredibly lucky, and I’m not sure where the luck is coming from. I have not had a single issue. The descent off Capitol (Peak), that’s something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. This is by far the most gratifying project I have ever done.”
Davenport’s mission is designed to inspire. He’s filming a movie; gathering photos from helicopters and cross-valley photographers for a coffee-table book; feeding daily dispatches to a website (skithe14ers.com.)
Setting the standard
His descents already have inspired some of the state’s most daring ski mountaineers.
On April 13, while he, Beidleman and Aspen’s Ted Mahon skied the Landry Route off Pyramid Peak, a team of Crested Butte skiers was on Capitol but was rebuffed a mere 100 feet from the summit. When Davenport and Beidleman skied Capitol seven days later, the same group – which included Sean Crossen and Pete Sowar – skied Pyramid’s Landry Route. Crossen plans to return this week for a shot at skiing a new line off Capitol, which is unequivocally the most difficult fourteener in the state. If he succeeds, he will end his five-year push to ski all 54 of Colorado’s fourteeners from the true summit.
Crossen, also 35, has been skiing Colorado’s highest hills since 1996. But in the past five years he has been going back and skiing every peak from its absolute summit, an ethical requirement to rightly claim a summit descent.
“I have grown a lot since the beginning of this thing,” said Crossen, a father of one from Crested Butte. “It’s been pure perseverance to just try to finish. A lot of the peaks have taken three or four tries. You have to have supreme faith in yourself. That’s all you got really: true, deep faith in yourself.”
Last week, five days after Crossen’s group seconded the clean descent down Landry’s, Denver mountaineer Dave Bourassa also conquered Landry’s, which requires negotiating a steep choke of vertical rock halfway down the line. In 1978, Landry used ropes to rappel that stretch without skis. In the past two weeks, the section has been skied repeatedly.
Bourassa, who is one of Colorado’s most dedicated backcountry skiers, has eyed Pyramid for several winters.
Davenport’s “aerial photos and firsthand information on the route made the decision to get after it much easier,” Bourassa said. “Knowing that the line is in and good to go takes a lot of the guesswork out of the equation. I am inspired by what Davenport and Crossen are doing and have done for the sport of ski mountaineering. Major props to those guys.”
Technology helps
It may seem like some of the burliest lines in Colorado have fallen in short order, but really it has been a gradual progression, said Lou Dawson, the legendary ski-shod pioneer of Colorado fourteeners and the only skier to ski from the absolute summit of every 14,000-foot peak in the state.
Dawson credits exceptional snowpack in the Elk Range and a new generation of skiers who have honed their skills on super-steep resort terrain using increasingly chubby skis. The technology of fat skis that float over variable snowpack was not available to the old generation of skinny-ski riders like Dawson and Landry, who sank through marginal snowpack. Plus they couldn’t rip 55-degree terrain on a daily basis like the new-school riders who have pushed resorts to open more precipitous slopes.
“Back in 1978, we thought 45 degrees was super-steep extreme skiing. Now people can handle 60 degrees,” Dawson said. “Those skills promulgate themselves through the ski community. You work within the parameters of your generation. Chris’ route on Capitol, in my mind, is a good example of breaking out and expanding the envelope.”
Staff writer Jason Blevins can be reached at 303-820-1374 or jblevins@denverpost.com.
