Stuck on the Roan

I keep a note on my phone with a list of all of the photography locations I want to check out.  One of the spots that had been on that list since moving to Glenwood is the Roan Plateau.  Located just north of I-70 between Rifle and Parachute, it is an outdoor paradise hiding in plain sight.  If you asked 10 people who live in the Roaring Fork Valley, my guess is 9 wouldn’t even know you can go up to the top of it.  At 9,000+ feet in elevation and seemingly a world away from the surrounding development, I imagined the top of the Roan Plateau to be a landscape photographer’s paradise.  Based on satellite views and topo maps, I knew there were aspen groves, creeks, and waterfalls to explore.  I mean look at that image above and tell me the area doesn’t look fascinating. There’s just one wrinkle in that exploration plan:  while the eastern and northern parts of the plateau are protected, oil and gas companies have leases on the far western part and access to a number of canyons on that side is blocked by gates and fences.  That means that getting to some of the best spots requires going the “long way” - up to the top and then back down into the canyons.

Since I was going to be hunting waterfalls, the conditions needed to be just right.  I wanted it to be cloudy, there needed to be no snow, and the dirt roads needed to be reasonably dry.  One Saturday in mid-October seemed to fit the criteria.  I headed out mid-morning and started my drive from Rifle up JQS Trail, the faster, but more challenging of two ways to the top.  The drive up was pretty good, but as I approached the end of the climb there was some snow in shaded spots, but it didn’t present any trouble for my Jeep.

Getting to the top felt like such an accomplishment.  I didn’t encounter another car the entire time and it was crazy to be able to park the Jeep and look down on the Grand Hogback.  After spending a few minutes at the overlook, I resumed the drive for my planned destination:  a trailhead to a waterfall hike.  I had put the plan together using a bit of skeletal information I was able to find online coupled with those satellite/topo maps I mentioned earlier.  The hike went off without a hitch and I was able to find the waterfall I was looking for.  It was quite a thing to experience an oasis like that in the middle of a part of Colorado that is so arid.  I got back to my Jeep around 5:00 pm and mapped my drive home to Glenwood at about two hours.

Because my drive up and over to the trailhead was so uneventful despite some snowy and wet spots, I was complacent and started my drive out without even thinking of the prospect of getting stuck.  Sure enough, about 100 feet from where I was parked, I hit a muddy spot going up a hill and my tires started spinning.  I attempted to back up, but did not have enough traction to right myself. I attempted to go forward and all that did was dig my tires in further and start me sliding closer to the edge of a ~15 ft drop off.  I tried the usual tricks like putting rocks/wood under the tires to get traction, but nothing worked.  I had no mobile signal and a couple hours of daylight, so I grabbed some snacks and my water bottle and headed out to hike to a spot where I could get a signal and call for assistance.

Nearly 10 miles into the hike and still without a signal strong enough to place an outbound call or search the Internet for a towing service, it was dark and some rain/snow was going to be coming in.  Throughout most of my hike, I had been confident I’d get a signal, but as it got later, I was began to get a bit worried.  It was then that I came upon two trailers, one of which had a light on.  I never would do this under normal circumstances, but I had no choice here, so I knocked on the door of the trailer to explain my situation and ask for help.  The man in the trailer had been sleeping and he didn’t speak much English so he woke up his companion in the other trailer and I told to them what had happened.  The guys could not have been nicer.  They welcomed me into one of the trailers and gave me water and hot coffee.   I never drink coffee, but at that moment, it was the best thing in the world.  The men were sheep ranchers from Peru and had been living up on the plateau for the whole summer tending to their flock.  They were due to finish up their season in just a few days.  They told me I could stay there with them and use their phone the next day to call an extraction service for my Jeep.  We stayed up a while and chatted. I learned about their careers and families back in Peru and I shared about my photography and what the heck it was that made me take the trek up there.  When it was time to go to bed, they were so generous and gave me one of the trailers and they crashed together in the other one.  The next morning, I woke to a couple inches of snow and was so thankful I had come across these ranchers.  I used their phone to arrange for my tow and they left on horseback to go to the flock.  I left a thank you note and my phone number but unfortunately, I never heard from them again.

About four hours later, the guys who were going to help me get out showed up.  Fortunately, I had written down the coordinates of where I was before my phone died and they were able to find my location using those and some basic directions I provided.  We drove to the spot where my Jeep was stuck and using a winch run behind a tree, they were able to right the Jeep and start pulling it up the hill.  I followed them back over to the edge and then down to the bottom of the plateau before meeting at a gas station to settle up.  The extraction bill was $1,100, but at that point I was just happy to be out of the situation.  When I got back home, I texted a couple photos of the waterfall to my photographer friend, Sally, who knew I had been stuck and her reply was “Pretty, but not worth it.”  Maybe so, but it makes for a good story now.