Wilson Peak (14,017) by Brian Schultz   Friday  September 19, 1997

I drove to Montrose yesterday after hiking Belford and Oxford. About 10 miles from town I came upon two deer in the middle of the road that I didn't see until the last moment because it was dark. One ran to the side but the other hesitated as I slammed on the brakes, waiting until I was about to hit him, and then he jumped right over the hood, tripping and rolling over it. All I could see were his hooves, expecting him to kick in the windshield any second and then me, but he continued rolling and landed  perfectly on his feet. He scampered off to the side of the road and then just stared at me. I looked at him for a minute while I tried to make sense of what just happened, wondering how he could have survived the impact and how the car didn't get wrecked. It all happened so fast, it seemed like a script right out of Hollywood- stunt deer and all. After I got over my shock I drove into town relieved that nothing worse happened. The car suffered only a few scratches. But it definitely was an omen of things to come.

To start with, I overslept but the weather in Montrose was sunny so I ate breakfast before hurrying over to the Silver Pick trailhead. This was my second attempt on Wilson Peak and I figured Dawson's Northwest Face route would be easier, so at 9:00 I started up the road and turned left after the mine on a trail that had footprints. I checked my altimeter but didn't trust it and continued up what I thought to be the proper route- it sure fit the description. The sky was sunny at the trailhead but was now completely overcast as I headed up a miserably steep scree gully and topped out at 13300 ft to a dead end. On the other side was a sheer dropoff with no possible way to get over to Wilson Peak, which I could see in the distance, its summit in swirling clouds. I was on the wrong side of the ridge and I contemplated dropping back down the gully until I could cross over it. All of a sudden it started snowing, which didn't bother me but when I dropped to 12000 feet it turned to rain. I called it a day. Making up 1300 feet was one thing but doing it on wet rock was another.

Taking my time, I carefully descended and actually made my way into the Silver Pick basin where I should have been in the first place. I looked back at Wilson Peak. The weather was turning nasty up there and I kept on, just about to step onto the dirt trail when I slipped on the wet rocks. I tried to brace my fall with my left arm and I jammed it terribly. Thunder was rumbling behind me and it was storming up on Wilson's summit- by the time I reached the road I was caught in a downpour and the thunder was booming all around me. Had I found the right route I would have been near or on the summit when the storm broke loose.

I was soaked when I reached the car at 2:30 and the pain in my left arm made it very difficult to get my coat off. It hurt so much that I found it easier to just place my left hand on the steering wheel with my right hand. Which wasn't a good sign but the hand was fine and I was able to drive ok. This was only the beginning of my vacation- I headed for Arizona to visit friends and then to Texas to spend time with my daughter and her husband. By the time I got to Phoenix the arm was black from the elbow to the shoulder. Thinking I only damaged some ligaments I paid it no mind, and nine days later when I finally got home to Minnesota the color was better but it still hurt like hell. An orthopedic surgeon suspected a torn rotator cuff and ordered an MRI. The results showed a broken shoulder bone! No surgery was required but it took over six months to heal on its own.

I wasn't too disappointed to miss out on my second try on Wilson Peak, but next time would be in the summer for a better chance.