Intro

Every fall, my amazing, wonderful wife sends me off to the mountains, alone and without responsibilities. Officially it's to pursue two of my passions - photography and being outdoors. But the real reason is to allow me to recharge and decompress. This year, I had an extra weekend to work with, and I was determined to make the most of it. So I booked a Needleton ticket on the Durango-Silverton train, scheduling it four days after I arrived in hopes of having acclimated even a little bit. I also scoured this site for Chicago Basin beta and I must say there are some awesome trip reports out there! Really appreciate everyone who took the time to post about their trips.

The Train

This site and others made it clear one can't book online for this. One must call the railway to book tickets to be dropped off at Needleton. By late September, reserving one of a few daily spots was not an issue. It's $15 extra for the backpack, and the whole transaction was quick and painless (other than the money leaving my account.) The confirmation appeared in my email within minutes.

One thing I learned, however, is that Apple maps doesn't necessarily know where the parking area is. My phone led me to the hotel directly adjoining the train depot. The parking lot is, in fact, west of the tracks and not east. Another tip: While the train folks claimed the parking folks take credit cards, that was not the case for me. The parking attendant told me that yes, they do take cards, but she hadn't fired up the credit card reader that early in the morning. So cash it was. And in reality, anyone catching the Needleton stop will be there at the same early hour I was. So plan ahead and come with cash - $8 per day as of a couple of weeks ago.

The train was a cool experience. Jaw-dropping views high above the Animas River, and a jovial atmosphere amongst my fellow passengers. We were two cars away from the snack car, so had a lot of thru-traffic. Walking through the car while underway felt like being on a small boat in the ocean, and there were plenty of good-natured jokes about "one too many Bloody Marys" as people stumbled on their way through.

Chicago Basin

Only two of us got off at Needleton that morning. The other person took off immediately while I adjusted my pack, so I had a solo backpack up to Chicago Basin. The weather on the ride up was good, but low clouds were blanketing the peaks off to the east as we neared the dropoff. Hiking up along the creek was awesome, with a good trail and just jaw-dropping scenery. Fall colors were everywhere, not just up in the trees but also at ground level. It's obvious from the vegetation that the area gets a TON of moisture! I met two guys at New York Creek who were leaving to catch the return train. They had climbed all four 14ers the day before and said there was just a little bit of snow up there.

As I was nearing Chicago Basin proper, the clouds came in earnest and the rain started. I could see nothing of the higher peaks, just gray swirling clouds. I found a decent campsite and set up my tent, a new Nemo Dragonfly 1P that I splurged on for this trip. It's a snug fit, but I was able to get my backpack inside the tent along with my pad and sleeping bag. The tent has a big vestibule, which is awesome, but I was never able to avoid water runoff when I came in or out of said vestibule. I had the footprint as well, and the combination of footprint and tent kept the interior absolutely dry during the next three days of frequent rain and snow.

I had delayed putting on rain gear, and was therefore pretty wet. This was fine while I was hiking and warm, but I got really cold while setting up camp. I put on dry clothes and socks and crawled into the sleeping bag to get warm. It took a couple of hours. After that, I learned to immediately put on dry clothes when I came back to camp, before my body cooled down. That worked great the rest of the trip.

It rained and snowed on and off during the night, and continued on into the morning. I stayed warm and dry in my tent. But I didn't start hiking the next morning until there was finally a lull around 10:00 or so.

Chicago Basin to Twin Lakes

The hike from Chicago Basin to Twin Lakes is straightforward, on a great trail. Once you turn off the main trail, though, it doesn't mess around - it just goes up! It serves as a great wake-me-up in the morning. Without clouds, I suspect the view would be amazing. Even with swirling clouds, it was pretty great.

Day 2: Eolus and North Eolus

I slogged up to Twin Lakes in mist and snow. I met a gentleman filtering water at the lake and briefly said hello, then turned left (north) toward Eulous.

As I ascended, the snow got heavier. It was virtually impossible to see where I was by visual cues other than directly around me. Fortunately, there was no ice whatsoever, just wet snow. I relied on following the trail, looking for cairns and checking my GPS.

The guy I met at Twin Lakes caught up with me during this stretch, and we hiked together. In the snow, we strayed a little as we zigzagged up to the saddle between the Eoluses(?), but we climbed up great granite slabs that reminded me of my childhood in Central Texas around Enchanted Rock. No rotten rock here.

We turned right to ascend North Eolus first, and enjoyed some wildly changing atmospherics.

We scrambled back down to the saddle and made our way over to Eolus.

Once we descended the "ramp" on the way back down toward Twin Lakes, the clouds parted briefly and we got some awesome views of the entire area.

I waited around for sunset to see what would develop, but other than a brief moment, the clouds moved in and the gray just got darker until it was black. I hiked back to camp and immediately changed into my dry "camp" pants and socks and got into my sleeping bag.

Day 3: Sunlight

The next morning was similar to the previous day, except it was more snow and less rain. Eventually I got started back up to Twin Lakes, snow falling gently around me. Right after I exited from trees and went across the rocky ledge and then a sharp left back up the hill toward Twin Lakes, I say a bright yellow spot emerging from the mist. It was a hiker who was coming back down, apparently too socked in by snow up at the lake. The yellow jacket was vividly visible, even in the gloom. Not a bad idea out in the wild, frankly, and ideal in the event of a worst-case scenario.

At the lake, I met another climber whom I found out later is named Denny. He was coming down from Windom, having summitted both Sunlight and the Spire the day before, alone and without gear as far as I could tell. He said his buddy contacted him via his InReach and warned him the snow was going to get a lot heavier later in the day.

With that as impetus, I picked up the pace toward Sunlight and, hopefully, Windom.

Cairns abound on the route, which is largely on bare rock.

The gully up to the Sunlight saddle was a slog in the snow. Again, there was no ice. It was just steep and loose. Staying left, as per the directions on this site, was key in my opinion.

Following cairns around the side of the summit block, it was a winter wonderland. But blessedly ice-free so far.

I came to the chimney used to access the ridge. Even though it was covered in snow and icicles, the actual places I needed to place hands, feet, elbows, knees, etc. were not slick. Otherwise I'd have had to turn around.

I got to the summit block and thought about what I wanted to do. I mean, I wanted to stand on top of the darn thing. But I also have my wife and daughters at home who would be mighty pissed if I took a fall from this particular spot. So I climbed up the easy section and ended up with my feet on the third rock from the top. I leaned my arms over to the second rock from the top, and was contemplating heaving myself up on that rock. From there, it would be relatively easy to make the final step onto the summit. But I'm only 5'8, so it was a reach. As I "test-moved" and bent my knees, my shoe slipped on a small patch of ice. That decided it - I was at my high point. Not worth being stupid over. Plus, it's a reason to come back!

I had intended to go over to Windom after summiting Sunlight, but the promised snowstorm was beginning in earnest. And I was tired and almost out of water and didn't feel like hiking all the way back to the lake to fill up. So I turned right instead of left and went back down toward Twin Lakes and Chicago Basin.

It snowed off and on down in Chicago Basin throughout the night. The next day was my "hike back to civilization" day. I got my pack and gear reorganized, delaying taking down the tent in hopes of a break from the snow. Finally I gave up and just did it. Everything was damp or wet, and it would have been pretty miserable to have to set up camp in a different location that night.

Backpacking out in the snow was surreal and magical. The valley looked like something out of a (dark) fairytale. Snow on all the trees, gray swirling clouds mostly obscuring the surrounding peaks, snow falling on my face.

I met up with Denny at the flagstop. The weather had cleared closer to the Animas River, and before long the train came to carry us back to Durango. Even though I had a reservation for an inside car, the porter hinted strongly that there were plenty of the windowless "outside" spots available and we might both like those. I guess we weren't the freshest-smelling people at that point!

Final Thoughts / Lessons Learned

• Keep your sleeping gear dry at all costs. If you're cold at night, you're going to be miserable
• Dedicated dry socks and pants for camp that remain in the sleeping bag at all times
• A pair of camp shoes would have been ideal. Next time, I'll budget space and weight for those
• A lightweight tarp to cover the tent and surrounding area would have been worth the added weight
• Filtering water with bare hands = cold hands. Use gloves or mittens, dummy
• Generally, the people you meet 6 miles from the trailhead are good companions and worth chatting with.
• I had forgotten how much I love backpacking and camping!

Thanks for reading!