Snowflake Monday

I don't know how Twilight Peak near Durango earned its name, but I suspect with the mining history of the Animas River Gorge, miners looked upon the massive mountain as a compass. Perhaps some miners stayed up all night trying to find their treasures.

The triple-summited Twilight Peak massif is but one of a handful of breathtaking mountains along US 550 between Silverton and Durango. Three of only five peaks in the West Needle Mountains, Twilight Peak, North Twilight Peak and South Twilight Peak are low thirteeners less frequently climbed because they are not fourteeners.

Early 1890s prospector Tom Estes discovered a rich vein of sylvanite in the West Needle Mountains and hauled a total of 14 bags of ore to the tune of $2,800, which was a fortune back then. He died unexpectedly after his third trip to his mine without ever revealing the location, and to this day, his cache has never been found.

US 550 from Silverton to Durango is an extension of Colorado's Million Dollar Highway from Ouray to Silverton, which was paved in the 1930s. Some say the 25 steep and twisting miles cost a million dollars to pave; others say the road bed was crafted from a million dollars' worth of minerals from the nearby treasure-riddled mountains. The Million Dollar Highway is the eastern half of what is known as the San Juan Skyway loops, which includes the highway from Durango through Cortez and Telluride back to Ouray, one of the most scenic drives in the entire United States, particularly in autumn when the aspens display their own brand of golden treasure.

The San Juan Skyway was the first to earn the title of national scenic highway.

Twilight Peak seemed like a great name for a spooky Halloween snowflake and served as the inspiration for this week's designs. The mountain also made for a very pleasant rest stop on our return from Durango where we participated in our final organized bike ride of the year. The autumn colors were spectacular, and we discovered a previously unnoticed memorial in one of the Twilight Peak observation points along the San Juan Skyway.





You may do whatever you'd like with snowflakes or owls you make from this pattern, but you may not sell or republish the pattern. Thanks, and enjoy!











Twilight Peak Snowflake

Finished Size: 6.5 inches from point to point
Materials: Size 10 crochet thread, size 8 crochet hook, 12 beads for eyeballs if desired (I used 6/0 glass beads, 6mm beads and glow-in-the-dark 9x6 barrel/pony beads), empty pizza box, wax paper or plastic wrap, cellophane tape, water soluble school glue or desired stiffener, water, glitter, small container for glue/water mixture, paintbrush, stick pins that won't be used later for sewing, clear thread or fishing line

Instructions

To make snowflake with bead eyeballs, string 12 beads onto thread. If using different colors beads for each owl, make sure like beads are adjacent, except for the first owl, which will be worked one eye at the beginning of the 7th round and the second eye at the end of the 7th round. Make magic ring.

Round 1: Ch 2 (does not count as dc), 12 dc in ring; sl st across starting ch 2 and into starting dc. Pull magic circle tight, but leave opening big enough to allow stitches inside it to lay flat.

Round 2: Ch 3 (counts as 1 dc), 1 dc in same dc, *sk 1 dc, 2 dc in next dc, ch 3, 2 dc in same dc; repeat from * around 4 times; sk 1 dc, 2 dc in same dc as starting dc, ch 1, 1 dc in 3rd ch of starting dc to form final ch 3 sp.




Round 3: Ch 3 (counts as 1 dc), 1 dc in same sp, 1 hdc in 3rd ch of starting ch 3 of Round 2, 1 sc in each of next 2 dc, 1 hdc in next dc, * 3 dc in next ch 3 sp, ch 1, 3 dc in same sp, 1 hdc in next dc, 1 sc in each of next 2 dc, 1 hdc in next dc; repeat from * around 4 times; 3 dc in next ch 3 sp, 1 hdc in 3rd ch of starting ch 3.

Round 4: To form owl eyes, ch 10 (counts as 1 dc and ch 7), * sk next 3 dc, 1 dc in each of next 4 st, ch 7, sk next 3 dc, 1 dc in next ch 1 sp (owl nose made), ch 7; repeat from * around 4 times; sk next 3 dc, 1 dc in each of next 4 st, ch 7, sk next 3 dc, sl st in 3rd ch of starting ch 10.

Round 5: 14 sc in next ch 7 sp. If working beads into eyeballs, pull one bead up in the middle of 14 sc, keeping bead on bottom of work so it will be inside eye opening when snowflake is finished. Eyeball placement is a matter of personal preference; you may place the bead anywhere along the opening you deem most visually effective. * Sk next dc, 1 sc in each of next 2 dc, sk next dc, 14 sc in next ch 7 sp, 14 sc in next ch 7 sp; repeat from * around 4 times working in one bead in each 14 sc sequence if appropriate; sk next dc, 1 sc in each of next 2 dc, sk next dc, 14 sc in next ch 7 sp, pulling up bead if appropriate; sl st in starting sc.
If you're not reading this pattern on Snowcatcher, you're not reading the designer's blog. Please go here to see the original.

Round 6: To form wings and body, ch 23 (counts as 1 mega tr and ch 15), *1 sc in last sc of 14/sc sequence, sk next 2 sc, 1 sc in 1st sc of next 14/sc sequence, ch 15, yo 7 times, yo and draw up loop through nose dc of Round 4, [yo and draw through 2 loops on hook] 8 times (mega tr made), ch 15; repeat from * around 4 times; 1 sc in last sc of 14/sc sequence, sk next 2 sc, 1 sc in 1st sc of next 14/sc sequence, ch 15, sl st in 8th ch of starting ch 23.

Round 7: 3 sc in next ch 15 sp, to make toes, [ch 3, sl st in last sc, 1 sc in same sp] 3 times, 17 sc in same sp, 18 sc in next ch 15 sp, [ch 3, sl st in last sc, 1 sc in same sp] 3 times; 2 sc in same sp; repeat from * around 5 times; sl st in starting sc; bind off. Weave in ends.



Lacy Owl

Finished Size: 2.5 inches tall and 2 inches wide
Materials: Size 10 crochet thread, size 8 crochet hook, 2 beads for eyeballs if desired (I used glow-in-the-dark 9x6 barrel pony beads), empty pizza box, wax paper or plastic wrap, cellophane tape, water soluble school glue or desired stiffener, water, glitter, small container for glue/water mixture, paintbrush, stick pins that won't be used later for sewing, clear thread or fishing line

Instructions

To make owls with bead eyeballs, string 2 beads onto thread. Make magic ring.

First Eye: 6 sc in ring, pull up bead and work into bottom of next sc so bead will be inside eye opening, 18 sc in ring for a total of 24 sc; sl st in starting sc; bind off; weave in ends.

Second Eye: 6 sc in ring, pull up bead and work into bottom of next sc so bead will be inside eye opening; 5 sc in ring, pull up loop from inside ring as if to form next sc and yo through one sc on side of First Eye, lining up bead eyeballs so they are positioned evenly, pull loop through 2 loops on hook, work one more sc joining to First Eye in same manner, 11 sc in ring of Second Eye for a total of 24 sc; sl st in starting sc. Do not bind off.

Body: To form wings and body, ch 15, yo 7 times, yo and draw up loop through joint between 2 eyes, making sure to go through at least 2 threads so as not to pull one thread loose, [yo and draw through 2 loops on hook] 8 times (mega tr made), ch 15; sl st in 6th sc up from bead on First Eye, turn.

Final Row of Body: 18 sc in ch 15 sp, to make toes, [ch 3, sl st in last sc, 1 sc in same sp] 3 times, 2 sc in same sp, 3 sc in next ch 15 sp, [ch 3, sl st in last sc, 1 sc in same sp] 3 times; 17 sc in same sp; sl st in next sc of Second Eye; bind off. Weave in ends.

Finish: Tape wax paper or plastic wrap to top of empty pizza box. Pin snowflake to box on top of wax paper or plastic wrap.

If using glue, mix a few drops of water with a teaspoon of glue in small washable container. Paint snowflake or owl with glue mixture or desired stiffener. Sprinkle lightly with glitter. Wash paintbrush and container thoroughly. Allow snowflake or owl to dry at least 24 hours. Remove pins. Gently peel snowflake or owl from wax paper or plastic wrap. Attach 10-inch clear thread to one spoke or top of owl head, weaving in end. Wrap fishing line around tree branch (or tape to ceiling or any overhead surface) and watch the snowflake or owl twirl freely whenever you walk by! Snowflake or owl also may be taped to window or tied to doorknob or cabinet handle. Owl also may be hung from key chain or zipper pull of item that won't be washed often. Owl may be shaped and restiffened if washed.

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Mount Silverheels, Part 2

See Part 1 here.

Sometimes you can do all the right stuff and still get into trouble. I tried to make wise decisions before I took on Silverheels. I told at least five people where I would be going. I told them when to expect me back. I took all the right equipment, even though it meant my pack was heavier than what I wanted to carry. I had an emergency shelter, extra fleece, rain poncho, knife, notepad and paper, enough food and water to get me through 24 hours, flashlight, extra batteries, lighter, snowshoes and first aid kit. I was prepared for a snowstorm or an unexpected and unplanned night in the mountains.

I went up a very circuitous route instead of the straightforward route. I think I added two miles onto my trek, but in retrospect, aside from not attaining the summit, I am glad I took the route I took. It was a good hike. I enjoyed the journey, and I got some terrific pictures. I saw parts of the mountain others most likely miss.

I was so discouraged when I decided I should turn back, I was near the point of tears. I didn't pay enough attention to where I was going. I noticed about a mile and a half down there were no footprints on the trail I was traversing.

I’d been following human tracks, and I thought I was going the right way. But suddenly the footprints were gone, and I didn't notice until it was too late.

I backtracked quite a bit trying to find familiar terrain. All uphill. I didn’t have anything left inside me to do this, and each step I took made me further from my car. I grimaced as I realized I probably was going to come out at the wrong trailhead, and I would be miles away from my car, which I would have to find in the dark. The oncoming storm at this point was actually beginning to threaten.

I knew I could spend a night in the mountains alone if I needed to, but I didn’t want to. I knew everyone I’d told of my destination would be extremely worried, and I didn’t want to do that to them. Search and rescue would cost more than I could afford. What if they pulled in helicopters??? We're talking thousands of dollars.

I had to get back to a road. Any road leading to civilization. I was on what looked like a very old and undeveloped road, so I decided to keep following it.

Eventually the road petered into a three-trail junction. None of my surroundings were familiar. I’d lost a lot of elevation, and I couldn’t see any high peaks to orient myself. I had to use my compass and the position of the sun, which was now totally engulfed in heavy nimbus clouds.

The trail numbers marking the junction were completely unfamiliar to me and not on my map. I thought if I called 911, at least they could tell me which way to head. Maybe someone would meet me at the trailhead and transport me back to my car. My fingers were crossed.

I dialed 911. The dispatcher took my name, my cell number and my location, then put me on hold to answer another incoming call that may have been a real emergency. My cell phone died.

I cried.

And I’m not trying to rhyme! I knew I had unintentionally started a search and rescue operation that might even make headlines. I was so paranoid, so devastated, so utterly helpless to do anything about it.

The sky was getting darker. The snow was coming down hard and fast. I could set up camp. I could start a fire. But something inside me urged me to keep going. I wrote notes and applied them to the trail markers. I built a wood cairn in the middle of the junction and stuck yet another note in it directing anyone who came by to check the trail markers.

I headed south, thinking that would eventually get me back to the highway, or the dirt road leading to my car, should I be so lucky.

About an hour later, I reached another trailmarker with yet another number I didn’t recognize. This was at the junction with a red dirt road. Quite stunning in appearance, the first 50 feet or so were entirely coated by a thick sheet of ice, frozen runoff engulfing the roadway. I would have to cross it to travel in the direction I thought would return me to civilization. I could go the other way, avoid the ice and get even further off target. So I traversed the tricky ice. It was not easy. I did not fall, but I had to move very cautiously and very slowly. With all the weight I was carrying, one false move, and I’d have done a face plant.

I think I walked another two miles down the red road before two tame dogs came running heartily toward me. I am so afraid of dogs, but I was so excited to see life forms! I let both dogs jump right up on me, and I welcomed them with open arms.

I could hear people voices in the distance calling to the dogs to return. My heart was doing somersaults. Oh, I was about to be rescued!!! I wanted to set my pack down and run! I knew I would need to remove the notes I’d left, just in case someone found them two or three days later and started a whole new search. I needed to call 911 to make sure they knew I’d been found.

When the dogs’ owners first saw me, they apologized for their dogs, and I simply stated, “I’m so glad to see your dogs. I’m lost.”

The couple said I was heading the right direction, but they warned I was still several miles from where I was trying to get. They offered to take me back to my car, which at the time they didn’t even know the location of, and I gladly, wholeheartedly, graciously, thankfully accepted.

When I called 911 from their cabin to report I had been found, the dispatcher said search and rescue had not been sent out yet because they didn’t know if I had found my way back to my vehicle, since they couldn’t get hold of me. I explained my phone had died while I was on hold, and I was unable to communicate in any other way until I reached my rescuers' cabin.

Imagine my surprise when upon reaching the trailhead, the female half of a husband/wife search and rescue team was studying the Silverheels map at the trailhead.

She asked if I was the lost hiker. Her husband was at the southeast trailhead just in case I came out that way. I told her I thought search and rescue hadn't been called. She said she'd heard it on the radio, and she and her husband got ready just in case, not wanting to waste precious hours in this kind of storm.

All three of my rescuers knew exactly where I’d taken a wrong turn. They said it happens all the time, and that seasoned mountaineers frequently make the same mistake. And oh, that fall on the ice at the end of the day? The part I wouldn't have told anyone? They witnessed it. Start to finish. Not only did I show them how lost someone can get, but I demonstrated my full klutz capabilities as well!

Nevertheless, I have learned my lesson. I lost the capability to make wise decisions when I got emotional. I need to stay sharp to think clearly. I’ve also learned that when I make bad choices, God further sharpens my mind by giving me the opportunity to think and act. He doesn't usually give me an easy way out on a silver platter. He allows me to work my way out of the bad places I get myself into.

I expected a medium-sized bill for making the canine-equipped search and rescue couple leave their warm, safe homes on a holiday to come out looking for me, especially when it turned out to be a false alarm, so to speak.

Instead, I was invited to help the couple train their dogs next time I'm in the area. I befriended four really cool people. And I learned to keep my cell phone warm if I expect it to work in cold weather.

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Mount Silverheels, Part 1

1 January 2004

This report was going to read, “Black Check! Black Check! Black Check! I rang in 2004 with my first calendar winter summit!"

I belong to a mountain climbing group with an online peakbagging checklist. Black checkmarks are awarded for calendar winter summits of 14ers and centennial 13ers. I wanted a black check. Almost everyone else in the group had at least one black check, and I, like a teenager obsessed with the latest trend, wanted a black check of my own.

However, I didn’t reach the Centennial peak I set out to climb. I did bag Pt. 12,282, Palmer Peak and Pt. 13,004. I did them in winter, and I did them alone. I had the entire mountain to myself on a beautiful day. I got a great workout, and I had glorious views. But alas, no black check for me. At least not today.

I camped near Florissant after shooting the fireworks on Pikes Peak from a lovely moonlit perch in Garden of the Gods and awoke an hour later than intended for the drive to the Beaver Creek trailhead.

After loading necessary gear in my pack, I headed north on the standard trail at about 8 a.m. I carried my snowshoes even though the southern slopes of Silverheels appeared wind-scoured. I didn’t want to take a chance on turning back due to unseen and nonnegotiable drifts. I wanted this peak!

The entire route was relatively snow-free, with the exception of occasional drifts and lingering accumulation in shaded areas that were easily bypassed. I never used the snowshoes. When I did posthole, my feet went only two to three inches deep. One drift was so firm I traversed it without sinking.

Above treeline, the wind picked up but was not the typical tundra blast to which I’ve grown accustomed. Throughout the day, the wind shredded cirrus and stratocumulus tatters from the western lenticular blanket to keep me alert to potential oncoming weather changes.

I quickly got off route upon reaching the skeleton forest on the wind-swept south slopes near treeline and spent most of the rest of the day tundra whacking due to the plethora of photos begging to be snapped. I’d been to Kite Lake three times but had never seen Democrat, which I'd summited in zero visibility on Labor Day weekend. From the slopes of Silverheels, I had magnificent views of the entire DeCaLiBro, Quandary, Little Baldy, the Tarryalls and the Buffaloes.

Upon reaching Pt. 13,004, Silverheels still seemed so far away. I didn’t want to return to my car in the dark with the oncoming storm and not really knowing the trail proper, since I hadn’t taken it. I sat on a rock, drank an orange juice and ate my still warm oatmeal. It was a good day, a great hike and a calendar winter summit. Just not a black checkmark on my list.

At the end of the day, when I reached Beaver Creek, I crossed to the right of the road, where the ice appeared thicker and less slippery. Just as I stepped back onto the bank, the ice broke, and the foot still on the creek took the proverbial polar plunge. My knee (the bad one, of course) smashed into the sharp ice edges. Fortunately, my ski pants prevented the ice from ripping through my skin, and fortunately, the temperature of the water temporarily deadened all the nerve endings in that leg so I could make it back to my car without limping too much. I am now the proud owner of phenomenal shades of green and purple epidermis.

And now… The REST of the story...

At the beginning of the day, I aimed for the summer trailhead and crossed Beaver Creek in my car, trying to cut down on mileage and preserve my bad knee. The 4Runner high centered on a chunk of ice when the weight of the vehicle busted through the frozen water. I got my first chance to use my ice ax. Cold, but FUN. I was hacking away like an ice ax murderer!!! It was almost like a snow cone-making event. I was chipping ice shavings EVERYWHERE! Completely coated the back of my car!

The rest of the tale, however, is not humorous. Even now, years later. I was too humiliated to tell the unpleasant and embarrassing truth back in 2004, and there may be elements of this story that help someone else. That is my hope.

to be continued...

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