I’ve been antsy since April 1st. Pyramid Peak was the road block in my five year goal of skiing all of Colorado’s fourteeners. One of the most intimidating of the fourteeners, it is the only one I’ve had to attempt more than twice, and I was hoping that the third time was the charm. But April never brought the window I was looking for. Winter simply wouldn’t leave. Pow day was followed after pow day. Spring wasn’t ready to arrive and I was left wondering if the window would shut before it ever opened. I kept a constant eye on the weather, and repeatedly watched high pressure after high pressure forecasted in the long term crumble into a winter storm warning. I’ll admit it, I was stressed, and even grumpy at times. The pressure of getting my last two fourteeners done was weighing on me.
Photo courtesy of Caleb Wray
So, when the weather window looked like it was going to open, I called Jordan White- our faithful Aspen-valley friend. He provided me with the necessary beta regarding the Maroon Lake road as well as his opinion on the local snowpack. We rounded up a crew- Matt Kamper, Caleb Wray, and Frank – an excellent mix of strong climbers and strong skiers. And my thoughts were consumed for days about skiing this peak. Am I ready? Because of repeated storm systems, I’ve had so few ski mountaineering days this year…. I can count the times I’ve boot packed this season on one hand and my crampons have been used exactly twice.
On Tuesday, we decided Thursday would be the day. And of course, my mind would not stop racing. I woke up at 3 am on Tuesday night in a cold sweat and was unable to sleep the rest of the night, much to my disappointment. I knew I needed the sleep- I did not want to repeat my first Pyramid attempt where I was forced to turn around because I was falling asleep while climbing. That’s why I nearly cried when Frank and I packed up the car at 6 pm on Wednesday, knowing it would take over four hours to get to Aspen and we had a 1:00 wake up time. Do the math for that one and you’ll find that there are less than 3 hours of time built in for “sleep”. But, who can really sleep the night before a line like this. “I don’t know if I can do this on three hours of sleep in two nights,” I said to Frank. “But, you have to.” “Okay.” I knew he was right.
Of course, everything took longer than it should have and we didn’t even make it to Aspen. We pulled over somewhere on the road west of Carbondale and “slept” for a couple of hours there before waking up at a time that most people call night, but we were calling it morning. We met up with Jordan, Caleb, and Matt at Aspen Highlands and made our way to the trailhead.
Snowmobiling on a road in the dark is one thing. But, snowmobiling for a mile and a half on pavement with plowed banks beside you is not only frustrating, but silly. Overheating was an issue and we were thankful when we reached unplowed road.
We left our snowmobiles a little bit before 4 am at Maroon Lake and made our way toward the couloir that led to the northern amphitheater on Pyramid. The skies were clear and it was cold. “You’re moving fast,” Jordan commented. “Well yeah, we gotta DO this thing!” I knew today was going to be the day. Three hours of sleep for the last two nights didn’t matter anymore. I’d found some strength deep inside that I didn’t know I had, and it was carrying me through this. It was my dream to ski this and I was living it. I was dreaming and living at the same time.
First light hit on our way up the couloir, as we were transitioning from skinning to boot packing.
Booting was frustrating up the northern couloir. The snow pack had not yet transitioned to spring. It was still winter there. The first sunlight that pierced the north face of Pyramid was alarming.
Photo courtesy of Jordan White
And we cruised through the amphitheater. We found better snow on the northwest face and made good time gaining the northeast ridge.
Photo courtesy of Jordan White
Frank and I reaching the saddle of the north east ridge.
Photo courtesy of Jordan White
The saddle offers the first view of the Landry line itself. Last year, I stood on this saddle in mid-May but was forced to turn around due to uncooperative weather. I was hoping it would look less intimidating this time around. But that was not the case.
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Frank and I picked up our friend Jamie in Golden, and headed to the bottom of the Pikes Peak Roadway where we rendezvoused with the 8 other members of our group. We consolidated our gear and ourselves into 2 vehicles and began heading up the road. At the gate, we were told that the road was open 16 of the 19 miles. But, the road crews were out. 
