And now for The List that absolutely nobody but me wanted…Geo’s personal rankings of the 58 ranked and/or USGS-named fourteeners in Colorado, from the Bottom Ten to the Top Ten and including the Middle 38! 

Why? Well, as the answer in the seemingly-apocryphal story about the one philosophy student to answer that question correctly for the philosophy final goes, “Why not?” Might as well have some outlet for all the mental wrestling I’ve done over just exactly how much I hate certain peaks and love others as a distraction from everything else taking place in the world right now! Furthermore, I can’t recall coming across anyone else’s personal arrangements of The List in order of personal likability – select favorites and least-favorites, sure, but all 58? So at least part of it is my own amusement at the idea that maybe my own by-all-searchable-accounts highly unusual preferences being the one that comes up highest, if not being the only one period, in future Google searches for Best and Worst Fourteeners or the like tickles me no end. 

A brief note first on those rankings from Worst to Best before I actually dive into them: for the most part, I tried to keep what is ultimately a purely subjective matter at least as internally consistent as possible, but being merely human (probably; at least one of my friends would surely question how, uh, certain that assertion is), sometimes I did grade select individual mountains on criteria I didn’t or couldn’t apply to others on the grounds of It’s My List and I’ll Do What I Want. 

But generally speaking, I compared peaks based on my experiences climbing them in at least mostly dry summer conditions; after all, there are many I will almost never certainly do in winter or for a ski descent. In a similar vein, I also tried to base my assessments on the routes I had actually done versus those I wish I had done or might like to do in the future, especially since many of said routes involve there being enough snow for me to ski back down them. Otherwise, certain trends will likely emerge, but hopefully enough exceptions are present that it will be obvious that I didn’t arrange these just to prove some kind of point, if only to myself…really!

Enough with the preamble. Onto The List as Arranged According to My Personal Tastes from #58 to #1!

58. Pyramid Peak. Yeah, every time I return to the Maroon Bells parking lot and pass that Deadly Bells sign with its line about how rarely Pyramid and its similarly sketchy neighbors give second chances, I do get a slight twinge of guilt over my ongoing grudge. But as glad as I am to be alive and not paralyzed after my encounter with it, I’ll probably always put weight differently on each foot, and while I’m at the age where backs apparently just start hurting all the time anyway (and there is something to being able to pinpoint the exact date when mine started protesting in earnest), it would’ve been nice to settle into middle age not already disadvantaged. And while it likely wouldn’t have been The Worst of The Worst if not for The Incident, “short, steep, loose, and scrambly” are just not my preferred adjectives to have almost universally attached to a given mountain, so almost certainly it would still have been in my Bottom Ten list regardless.

Plus, I’m pretty much constantly finding new things about Pyramid that irritate me, admittedly at least partially my fault. My having updated and recorded all my trip reports from 2022 in an under-two-week span made me really, REALLY sick of how much time I’d already spent thinking about that mountain in the year+ since The Incident, then even sicker still when it once again muscled its way into the forefront of my thoughts during the revision/recording sessions. 

And in a real, uh, Female Dog Eating Crackers moment against the mountain, I learned earlier this year that it might have made me a record-holder for being the catalyst to the highest-elevation helicopter rescue in the state…a fact I learned about when, alas, it was broken. That it is one record I think everybody else and I would agree it would have been preferable for me to hang onto in perpetuity, and while I realize its handover was no more Pyramid’s actual fault than the reason for the record’s existence in the first place, the mountain that served as its setting is still a convenient scapegoat for all my collected frustration with it.

57. (South) Maroon Peak. Sorry yet again, Will_E…if “short, steep, loose, and scrambly” are not descriptors I deem favorable when reading about a mountain, “long, steep, loose, and scrambly” are even less so. Also I might as well use Pyramid’s neighbor as a scapegoat unto itself for my irritation that not once in the 9000+ words that the revised trip report/recording totaled in final did I ever make a play on the words “for whom the bell tolls.”

56. Crestone Needle. This one I’m apologizing to nobody for. What do Needle, pizza, and sex all have in common? Apparently I’m the only one of my friends who just doesn’t get the appeal of any. Plus, after having recently reminded myself just what a torturous outing Crestone Peak turned out to be, I’m now belatedly grudge-y against this one for not being what I’d consider to be “real” Class 4; if I’d known that one section that upgraded the mountain’s ranking was going to be merely steep but with big, obvious holds that afforded easy passage and thus no big deal for me to surpass on my first attempt, I’d have saved it for last and thus had a slightly less painful finisher day.

55. Challenger Point. Mentally tied for a long, long time with Needle for just how long, steep, and loose (not too scrambly, though with the challenges – heh heh? – to staying upright that already exist, who needs the added technical difficulties) it is and only making up ground on Needle East Gully’s comparative stability due to how nice the Willow Lake approach is vs. how much everything besides the quarter mile or so of actual trail through the trees at South Colony Lakes sucks hardcore, this one eventually “won” out because as much as I despised it and have no desire to go anywhere near its gully ever again except maaaaaaybe if it’s covered over with stable snow and I have skis, I know I would’ve loathed any of the other, more scrambly, documented methods for reaching Kit Carson even more. 

54. Crapitol Peak. This one has flip-flopped so many times with the next entry on the list that I strongly considered making them a tie, too, but ultimately, I would summit the next entry in only one attempt, even if it was a hell of an attempt. The fact that this one took two attempts and that my partner and I got SO CLOSE on our first attempt of this one but ultimately found it necessary to turn around not due to weather or injury but our own self-induced fatigue and frustration was, evidently, a continual source of frustration. Plus, I found the Knife Edge really annoying.

53. Little Bear. With a total of around 48 hours with no sleep due to anxiety in the 21 or so before the climb even began, this was indeed a hell of a day…or would have been, had it been merely 24 hours rather than 27.5. Throw in the late-night hallucinations, the guilt of having forced one of my partners to go to unnecessary lengths to get shelter while I was still on the mountain, and Search and Rescue being called (though thankfully not, like, truly needed), my first Class 4 wound up being far more memorable than was absolutely necessary, imho.

52. Windom Peak. Technically the least-challenging of the Chicago Basin group, the long pack in the day before, the exhaustion from the physical exertion as well as finally-subsiding adrenaline from having done Sunlight and its scary summit block immediately prior, the seemingly interminable boulder-hopping, and the fact of this being the first new-to-me fourteener I would do unroped since The Pyramid Incident (even if ropes weren’t strictly necessary, it was still steeper and more exposed than I was probably prepared for) made me Not a Fan. 

51. Sunlight Peak. The Class 4 summit block that I personally would never have been able to do no matter how solid my mental and physical states if I hadn’t been roped up, plus all the steep, loose scrambling leading up to its ridge crest and exposure along said ridge crest that reminded me too much of Pyramid for my liking on a peak that was, after all, my first new one since The Pyramid Incident meant that this one and Windom probably should be reversed…but at least I was roped up for all the parts that were scary to me on this one.

50. Crestone Peak. Started in the dark, finished in the dark, had to go back up over steep, loose Broken Hand Pass to return to the car, still not 100% sure I am not in fact still in Red Gully and hallucinating everything that’s happened since and also wrestling with mental checklists as a way to protect myself from the reality that I will never escape Red Gully…this one should be preferentially lower/numerically higher on the list, but in the subjective spirit of It’s My List and I’ll Do What I Want, I’ll give it a bit of reprieve for being my finisher. 

49. El Diente. As I wrote in a 14ers.com thread from last year in which a poster asked about peaks you have no desire to repeat, after giving amazingly concise-for-me summaries of the first nine in the Bottom Ten (plus Teakettle and Dallas, since the poster didn’t limit it to fourteeners), I wrote of this one: “Stupidly loose and tedious from Kilpacker, yet another case where I likely would’ve hated any other route, not even ranked” (or, for those not already familiar with peakbagging, having the required 300’ of prominence from its saddle with its higher next-door neighbor to qualify as a “real” mountain).

48. Mt. Wilson. To quote myself yet again from the same entry, “Similar to El D, but slightly longer. At least it’s ranked.”

47. Sneffels. To keep with the quoting theme because the post is still up and I’m lazy, “Not as bad as its demoted-to-Bicentennial neighbors [Dallas and Teakettle] in that I did manage to get up and down it without needing to be roped up to survive, but still a case of, ‘If I’m spending that much gas money, I might as well go do something I actually enjoy.’” I did not mention in that post, however, the anxiety attack I had on the crux during the downclimb of the Southwest Ridge nor my residual guilt for convincing – no matter how passively – a fourteener-noob partner to go into terrain in which he wound up getting injured by being unprepared for the looseness…and then kept going on post-injury, although happily he did get back to safer ground without further incident. 

46. Mount Lindsey. Yet another case of “short, steep, loose, and scrambly.” To quote myself from that one post one last time – even I recognized that the thread had not been titled, “Geo’s Personal Fourteener Grudge List” – “I do hope for a restoration of access so that others can determine for themselves whether this one is worth doing a second (or even first) time, but I got it done when it was still cool with the landowner, and suffice to say it’s been no skin off my nose that it’s been legally unrepeatable for a long time since.” Well, legal access has been restored as of early 2025 via a waiver system, and suffice to say I wasted no time in telling friends who had been waiting for permission, “Cool! Looking forward to hearing your take on it after you do it with someone who will not be me!”

45. North Maroon Peak. Sure, it’s still in the Bottom Fifteen, but it does have the perhaps nevertheless dubious distinction of being the only Class 4 fourteener that escaped the Bottom Ten! Plus, it does mark the turning point on this list from Peaks I Would Repeat Under No Circumstances Ever No Matter How Nicely My Friends Asked Me (Except of Course If There’s Ever a Nice, Fat, Stable Ski Line on Them) to Peaks I’m Hardly Champing at the Bit to Repeat But Could Be Arm-Twisted into Repeating If My Friends Bribed Me Appropriately. After all, this one does fall into the “short, steep, loose, and scrambly” category, and there’s no way I would ever go up the Chimney unroped, but it was the least loathsome of the Bells Unholy Trinity.

44. Mount Eolus. At least only “long, steep, and scrambly” and not “loose” applied here, and I think I would have been able to pull it off unroped if it hadn’t been the same year that I was still literally and mentally getting back on my feet after The Pyramid Incident (although I am glad for the no-longer-with-us company I got to keep during that trip), and now that it’s been over four years post-Incident, I suppose I once again could be arm-twisted into a repeat, and unroped! But the scrambling was rather sustained for the last few hundred vertical feet, moreso than other Class 3s that are still to be listed.

43. Missouri – or is that Misery? – Mountain. The first Class 2, a.k.a. strictly walkable, peak to appear on my list…or is it? There is that one section of downclimbing shortly before the summit that required me, anyway, to find some good handholds, and I sure wasn’t appreciative of the steep, loose, kitty-litter gravel sidehilling that came right after. Perhaps it’s slightly more technically difficult but also more solid to stay ridge proper in that section, but these ratings are based on what I actually did rather than what I could have done, and anyway, my eagerness to go test that alternate route is not exactly brimming over.

42. Tabeguache Peak. Sorry, Sawatches, but at least you managed to stay out of the Bottom Fifteen, which I have a feeling might not be the case on a lot of other fourteener finishers’ personal lists! I’ve only done Tab the one time via the nonstandard Jennings Creek route, and the amount of steep, loose garbage topped off with plentiful boulder-hopping and a move or two near the summit that made me question that route’s Class 2 status as well have it solidly in my One and Done file…and, while I really am trying to rank these based on what I have done vs. what I could have, the fact that I’m not sure following the connecting ridge from Shavano that marks the standard route would be much more pleasant in my eyes does nevertheless solidify its inclusion in the Bottom Twenty.

41. Kit Carson Peak. This is admittedly a hard one to place for me because I personally do not believe I would have been able to summit it without going up Challenger’s hideous and consequently despised gully first. I strongly suspect I would have ranked it closer to the bowels of my list, potentially even flat-out tied with Challenger (and maybe both in combination elevating Needle, perhaps even Maroon, a space or two farther from rock-bottom ever so slightly) had I gone up one of KC’s alternate Class 4 routes and come down Challenger’s gully…but as with the preceding two entries, I do feel I ought to limit the power of what-ifs in my rankings at least somewhat, and KC itself was relatively benign for a scrambly peak, so I’ll grant it more metaphorical distance from Challenger than it physically possesses.

40. North Eolus. Probably the only peak of the Chicago Basin Quartet that I’d repeat without whining about doing so the whole way, although there is just enough scrambling leading to the saddle with its bigger sibling that I’d really rather stick to the backpacking opportunities on solid trail if I do make a return trip to the area.

39. Snowmass. Part of me does feel that this should be preferentially lower/numerically higher just because I no longer have any desire to repeat S Ridge or West Slopes ever again, but this time the leeway granted is because I do trust in my writings of yore that I enjoyed S Ridge at the time I was doing it, even if I no longer recall feeling that way nor can fathom what about it I would have enjoyed at the time. And as much as I’ve repeatedly tried to disavow those potential alternate routes as well as anything undertaken or considered as a winter/skiing prospect, the fact that I do have East Slopes when there’s snow in the ‘mass high on my ski descent bucket list can’t help but bolster it in the It’s My List and I’ll Do What I Want category.

38. Mount Columbia. I’m sure I would view it more favorably if I were to repeat it now that the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative has put a trail in most of the way up to the ridge, but at the time I did it, the trail petered out midway up the steep, slick, grassy slope connecting said ridge to Horn Fork Basin, and suffice to say that was neither a fun nor intentional snow-free glissade back down. Besides, I might still be a little bitter about getting rejected from Columbia University as a high-school senior more years ago than I care to admit to.

37. Mount Bross. Many fourteenerers’ introduction to steep and loose, anyway, through the slopes connecting its summit to Kite Lake. Add in the illegality of said summit proper plus the indignity that it took me four tries to reach said summit despite this not being a technically difficult peak in any way, shape, or form, and really, the only things going for it are its relative ease of access…and also, in yet another case of It’s My List and I’ll Do What I Want, how inversely-proportionally fun it was as a ski vs. its misery as a dry-season peak.

36. Longs Peak. Pyramid prompted Search and Rescue and a hospital visit. Little Bear prompted hallucinations and SAR. Handies prompted a hospital visit. My first summit of Longs hit the magic trifecta, plus the Trough was the start of my distaste for steep, questionably solid gullies, and of course everything above the Keyhole introduced me to how loathsome I find scrambling in general, so obviously, it also should be preferentially lower/numerically higher…but Rocky Mountain National Park is such a special place to me I’m willing to put up with A Lot if it means getting to spend time there, as will become even more apparent in the next episodes. It is worth noting, however, that while I did offer to repeat it with a friend who has yet to experience it, I also informed her that I would not be in any way offended if she found someone else to accompany her.

35. Mount Shavano. No mountain with a proper trail should be that steep below treeline, and with how much elevation gain takes place from trailhead to summit, I sure didn’t appreciate feeling that out of breath before I’d even lost the ready-made oxygen sources.

34. Culebra Peak. This easy, tundra-heavy walk-up would absolutely be more favorably viewed if not for the logistical nightmare that its private ownership turns it into. The fees, the limited access controlled by a reservation system…some appreciate having one fourteener that is as close to untrampled as any is ever going to be in Colorado, others find it to be a prime example for why Right to Roam laws should be imported to the U.S., and suffice to say I find myself more inclined to agree with the latter camp.

33. Wetterhorn Peak. Yes, “steep, loose, scrambly, and did I mention exposed?!?” definitely apply to this one, but perhaps the shortness of the steep, loose, exposed scrambliness as well as all the wildflowers popping at the time I climbed it have given it an overly rosy tint in my memories. Still in the Bottom Half because I’m reluctant to revisit it for fear I will indeed find actual conditions to fall – hopefully not literally – far short of said memories.

32. Wilson Peak. The scrambling was short, and the San Juans are beautiful. But it’s got to be beyond obvious by now how little I care for any scrambling at all, and it is an awfully long drive from Denver. 

31. Mount Princeton. Not so steep or scrambly, happily, but its standard route is looser and therefore more annoying than most in the Sawatch, plus for being as centrally located as it is relative to Colorado fourteeners, views are surprisingly meh. But at least it is possible to bum a ride all the way above treeline if you happen to stumble across a hardy vehicle with hardy drivers who happen to have room.

30. Mount Cameron. Nobody except arguably the USGS considers this to be a real mountain as opposed to a bump that happens to connect three arguably real mountains (though plenty of self-proclaimed Real Mountaineers[™] would doubtlessly be willing to passionately debate how Real Mts. Democrat, Lincoln, and Bross are). I’d nevertheless look more favorably on this short, not-steep, not-scrambly, not-super-loose shameless excuse of an additional checkmark if it weren’t for what I recall as at least 57 false summits between its saddle with Democrat and whatever part of the big, broad bump actually constitutes its summit.

29. La Plata Peak. This one’s solidly in-the-middle status seems fitting, given that I remember next to nothing about climbing this mountain; if I hadn’t had a lovely repeat of Huron in more recent years, I’d surely still be confusing it with that charming neighbor to its south. The fact that I remember so little indicates nothing particularly bad happened, naturally, but the fact that I have had no strong motivator to try refreshing my practically nonexistent memories does, I feel, also speak volumes of its own.

28. Mount Elbert. Simple, straightforward, and of course I was and still am pleased that my first state high point was my home state’s, but a bit steep and loose leading up to its false summit on the standard route…and what a false summit it is! Plus, I have no doubt the overall steepness contributed to the family-unfriendly language I would share with future fellow forum members as we played leapfrog on my second time up it. Also the It’s My List and I’ll Do What I Want factor of it being the only fourteener that was such a pain for me to ski that I likely wouldn’t ski it again helps cement it being just barely in the top half.

27. Mount Sherman. Short, not-steep, not-scrambly (in fact, it’s been downgraded since my first time up it from Class 2 to 1 because of how defined the trail has become)…but maaaaaan, are the Mosquito fourteeners stuck in a spectacularly unscenic range! Still marks the start of the portion of this list where I might at least consider a given peak for a revisit without being begged or bribed into it, however.

26. Mount Yale. Pretty standard-issue Sawatch with its trail going most of the way up, but wow did I ever find it easy to get sucked into scramblier terrain than was strictly necessary, not to mention stumbling into what I believe to be the old “trail” that is actually a steep, loose gully on the way down, but for those future visits I’m totally not factoring into my rankings, at least I should know better now.

25. Ellingwood Point. Another case of the mountain winding up being more interesting than it really had any right to be thanks to my refusal to go back over the false summits along its ridge on my descent, I nevertheless did enjoy the standard route between Lake Como and the summit…but I could have done without Lake Como Road, either as a hike or a drive in any ratio.

24. Conundrum Peak. With the scenery and the mostly straightforwardness of its route, it’s not an unpleasant hike even with the preferred method being ascending Castle first, especially when much of the year has the possibility of glissading at least down the headwall’s snowfield to make the descent a bit more fun, but it is slightly irritating, imho, to go through all the extra effort for a peak that isn’t even ranked. 

23. Mount Oxford. This one’s route going over Belford before reaching its loftiest heights is even more straightforward (and merely Class 2 as opposed to Difficult Class 2), but going at least almost all the way back up to Belford’s summit on the way back to avoid what would otherwise be a hefty-looking bushwhack does feel like a bit much until it’s over.

22. Handies Peak. The last of the Incident peaks, but at least I summited and made it back to my car all on my own following said Incident and have a barely noticeable scar remaining. Plus, on my subsequent visit to this peak, I was far better equipped to descend its snowy slopes (yes, this does mean I am once again factoring skiing into a rating I said would be based solely on dry-season conditions, but snow sticks around longer on east-facing slopes anyway, so there’s that in addition to It’s My List and I’ll Do What I Want).

21. Mount Lincoln. A little annoying in that one has to go over already-discussed Cameron or Bross in order to stick to the established trail, but it isn’t too big of a pain to reach from either…and it does carry the distinction of being the highest in the Mosquitoes, so perhaps slightly better views than Sherman.

20. Uncompahgre Peak. Long enough to not be particularly steep, no scrambling on the standard route, but a bit of looseness coming up the backside just below the summit, and of course Nellie Creek Road is in the same category as Lake Como for unpleasantness in both hiking and driving, though also of-course it doesn’t come close to exceeding it. But the pleasantness of its trail and scenery bring back fond memories.

19. Pikes Peak. I want to rank this one more favorably, really I do. Relatively easy to access from Denver, Barr Trail in particular is as non-steep, non-loose, and non-scrambly as it gets, and yet, every time I’ve been up it, I’ve had way more of an adventure than I bargained for. Maybe if I ever have a nice, boring hike up this nice, boring peak, it will shift in the rankings…but I might as well make some attempt at internal consistency, so basing this placement on the overexcitement I’ve already had will have to suffice for now.

18. Mount Democrat. A little steep, especially above its saddle with Cameron, and as lacking in scenery as the rest of the Mosquitoes…but a nice, simple training hike at altitude especially from 12k’ Kite Lake, and the most sensible of the DeCaLiBr to do solo. Not to mention, to once again bring in factors I totally wasn’t going to include since I can’t apply them to all these peaks, a pretty fun ski!

17. Blanca Peak. Ahh, Lake Como Road. Also the stiff breezes chilling me when I summited couldn’t help but dampen my enthusiasm, if thankfully not literally. Still, this is one I liked well enough above the dreaded LCR that I cheerfully offered to repeat it with a friend who has yet to climb it. 

16. Humboldt Peak. Having repeated the walk up the South Colony Lakes so-called road only two years ago for Crestone Needle, I cannot imagine how this road failed to make a negative impact on my first visit to the area…but I do have fond memories of the trail and ridge/tundra walk above the lakes themselves, and say whatever else one will for the surrounding Sangres (as all the fourteeners in this one’s immediate vicinity are in my Bottom Twenty and only one not in the Bottom Ten, whatever else I have to say is typically punctuated by multiple f-bombs), they are scenically stunning. 

15. Quandary Peak. Nice, pleasant, downright boring, somehow at least seems slightly more scenic than its nearby Mosquito neighbors for its clearer views of the Gores and northern Sawatches, parking issues at its trailhead and the fact that it’s a little too boring even by my standards to be a more frequent repeat keep it from a higher ranking, but seeing as I would repeat it as a ski (and it is skiable for longer than most of its peers), it once again gets relatively favorable placement on the grounds of It’s My List, etc.

14. Mount Massive. Considering I only remember slightly more of the successful attempt of its standard route than I do of La Plata’s, it’s possible I’m favoring it too highly, but the lovely pictures I do have of this one and the dearth of negative memories along with its ease of access from Denver make it one I would have no issues with repeating even in dry conditions, although it is worth noting that it’s high priority for me as a future winter and ski descent, especially if I can make both happen in the same outing.

13. Mount Antero. Its high ranking would almost certainly earn a protest from most who went the standard route, particularly those who also started from the 2WD trailhead all the way at the base of the mountain, but I found the necessity of the road being limited in grade for the sake of motorized traffic to make it a perfectly fine stroll of a hike, and the fact that I hit it at the exact right time of year to not need any sort of snow equipment for my hike but there being just enough ice left near the base of the road to scare off that motorized traffic (and with it, most other hikers) mean this is another I could be rather easily talked into repeating…though probably only at the times of year likeliest to have similarly low-traffic conditions.

12. Mount of the Holy Cross. After spending years dreading the re-ascent of 1000’ from East Cross Creek, I actually found it to be not particularly grueling in the actual doing, and the approachability of the mountain’s trail and beauty of its surroundings make it another I’d be happy to revisit.

11. Castle Peak. Glissading down that headwall sure was fun, as was ascending it in the early morning with crampons on firm snow. I could have done without our inadvertent diversion off the standard route into what might very well have been the steep looseness marked with a red X on the route description to indicate its sheer avoidability, but the ease of followability of the route on the way down helps make it another I’ve willingly offered to return to.

10. Mount Belford. A bit relentless in steepness, the loveliness in terms of both grade as well as scenery of nearby Elkhead Pass, especially if one were to go up and down the pass in peak wildflower season, makes this a fine entry at last into the Top Ten.

9. Sunshine Peak. Always seemingly in danger of removal from the fourteener list every time a new survey comes out, I’m glad of its continued inclusion on The List in spite of the extra work it creates getting over from and back to Redcloud, seeing as how I have no desire to go down the dry gully dropping down from the saddle the two share that has a sign saying not to go down it and everything. It’s not too fatiguing a trek, after all, and the views along the ridge it shares with its higher neighbor are worth the extra time to admire, especially when autumn has turned the aspen leaves below to gold.

8. Redcloud Peak. Worth a visit just on its own, though of course even better if used as a springboard for Sunshine. A bit of looseness on its flanks is manageable, and the solid nature of the trail below its saddle with the Centennial thirteeners adjoining it makes for a fine bit of exercise all on its own.

7. Mount Harvard. Yet another case where the beauty of a golden Horn Fork Basin amped up my impression of a peak, but even if it hadn’t been for the addition of the autumnal scenery, I still recall finding the forgiving grade through the basin an early hint that routes with longer mileage to absorb the brunt of their elevation gain are my faves.

6. Torreys Peak. It’s been a pleasure watching CFI improve the trail to this one over the years to the point that it is now solidly Class 1 as opposed to its earlier Class 2 ranking, and as will become a theme with the remaining Front Range peaks, I personally appreciate the multiplicity of routes up it…even if I did have to dock a point or two from this one for solidly scrambly Kelso Ridge being one of its options.

5. Huron Peak. Short but not steep and primed perfectly in relation to the rest of the Sawatches as well as the Elks for scenic purposes, this wonderfully boring-by-its-standard-route peak was admittedly a little too memorable in only one way on my first go-round for my feeling compelled to rename it Hurl-on after a gastric incident just above treeline…but the uneventfulness outside of its panoramic views on my second visit have it cemented as a strong recommendation from me.

4. Grays Peak. Edging out its next-door neighbor by virtue of the trail to its summit being even more of a proper trail and also being the high point of the Continental Divide and thus being epically cool to a certain subset of elevation-obsessed nerds, this one – like Torreys – also has the It’s My List…factor of having an excellent slope for skiing below the saddle these Continental Divide monarchs share.

3. Mount Blue Sky. Initially my First True Hate of fourteeners due to the length of its trail from Echo Lake as well as the 400’ of re-ascent needed to get back up to that trailhead at the end of the hike, I have subsequently come to admire how many ways one can get up and down this mountain…including by bicycle, an option not legally available on most other fourteeners!

2. Mount Bierstadt. As I’ve posted about what I consider Colorado’s answer to Old Faithful to the forums in – to prove that I was lying earlier about being done quoting myself – that same post in which I vented plenty of spleen about plenty of the bottom of my list, this is a mountain that I find excellent “[f]or quick + easy, just-want-some-exercise-at-altitude[…] Not during a Saturday morning in July or August, of course, but outside of typical hours/seasons, it’s a solid hike that isn’t too demanding. And if you go far enough outside of those popular times, you might even have its summit all to yourself, as I have on several of my latest visits.” Or, as I put it even more crassly in an older forum post chastising someone who dared insult the fourteener I think of fondly enough to have taken its name as my middle name, “Hey now, Bierstadt was my first. While I most certainly wasn’t the first to get on top of it (even on the particular day!), and it wasn’t my longest, hardest, or most exciting, it’s still my most reliable go-to if I’m in the mood for a quickie. …or…something…..” Because yes, Bierstadt is, shall I say, rather predictable, but as should be obvious from the rest of this list, I see boring as beautiful, and Bierstadt is beautiful enough to me that it is the only one to date that I am interested in summiting every month of the calendar year or just revisiting for a heart-racing, lung-testing, general quickie. 

1. San Luis Peak. Gorgeous scenery and a trail forgiving enough whether coming from Creede or the Gunnison side that a hiker has plenty of time and opportunity to properly appreciate them. I’d have more summits of it if it were closer to Denver, but the distance does make it blissfully uncrowded, so it is well worth making a side trip if conditions are right and I’m in the area anyway…and it’s worth making the area wide enough to be within 3-4 hours or so, I say.

And with that testament to the beauty of boring, let this stand as the only list of The List that anyone ever needs to consult in order to figure out how to arrange their 14k’ peakbagging for maximum pleasure by a totally objective system that no fellow fourteener finisher could possibly disagree with. Just remember that if anybody does disagree with my order, they’ve almost certainly spent less time thinking about how to organize their hikes and more time actually hiking, so obviously I’m way more qualified than anyone else to offer such rankings in such a Buzzfeed-worthy way, because that totally was something to aspire to even in its heyday.