< PREVIOUS ] [ 2001 Index ] [ Ed Quillen HOME ] [ SEARCH ] [ NEXT >
Back in November of 1999, I wrote about a little mountain that deserved a name. Now I'm pleased to report that it has one: Headwaters Hill will be on the map, after a favorable vote on July 12 by the U.S. Board on Geographic Names.
Headwaters Hill sits in Saguache County, about four and a half miles south of the summit of Marshall Pass, along the Colorado Trail (or the Continental Divide Trail -- they're collinear in that area).
It's only 11,862 feet high, and so it's dwarfed by its handsome neighbor, 13,268-foot Antora Peak (not to be confused with 14,269-foot Mount Antero in Chaffee County, which in turn should not be confused with Antero Junction where U.S. 285 meets U.S. 24 at the foot of Trout Creek Pass in Park County).
In general, Headwaters Hill is about as undistinguished as a mountain can get. It's not a landmark like Pike's or Long's peaks -- you have to know what you're looking for to distinguish it from nearby 11,885-foot Windy Peak. It's not in pristine wilderness, for there are old logging and mining roads all around it. Nor is it in or near any lengendary mining districts -- Bonanza is the closest, and even though some of its mines operated well into the 20th century, the Bonanza name reflects prospector optimism a lot more than it represents reality.
But Headwaters Hill is where three signficant hydraulic systems converge. Its west side drains (in theory anyway) into the Pacific Ocean, via Millswitch Creek, Marshall Creek, Tomichi Creek, the Gunnison River and the Colorado River. Its north side run-off is bound for the Atlantic Ocean, via Silver Creek, Poncha Creek, the South Arkansas River, the Arkansas River, and the Mississippi River.
Although it may appear as though the Rio Grande also originates in that area, it doesn't. The water on the south side goes down Middle Creek to Saguache Creek to San Luis Creek to a dead end at San Luis Lake just east of the Great Sand Dunes.
Or at least, that's where natural flow halts as the water sinks into the sand. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation pumps some of this water over a low divide so that it can flow into the Rio Grande and help Colorado meet its commitments to New Mexico and Texas.
Headwaters Hill is one of only five triple
divides
in the United States where three major
drainages converge. Three of these are in the Rocky
Mountains, according to Dale Sanderson of Denver, who's a
cartographer for Qwest, and the other two had names: Triple
Divide Peak in Montana and Three Waters Mountain in
Wyoming.
Sanderson was one of the two prime movers in getting a name for the mountain.
(He's also the nephew of the previous owner of the house
we live in now, thereby proving Martha's theory that
Colorado is one big small town. And he has discovered that
Colorado's traditional lowest point
of 3,350 feet,
the Arkansas River at the Kansas line in Prowers County, is
wrong. The actual lowest point is 3,315 in Yuma County
where the Arikaree River enters Kansas.)
The other prime mover on Headwaters Hill was George Sibley of Gunnison. For 11 years, George has organized the annual Headwaters Conference at Western State College, and so it's clear he likes the name.
He also organized various petitions for the public to sign, as well as endorsements from a variety of governments. Although Headwaters Hill is entirely within Saguache County, it's close to Gunnison and Chaffee counties, and so the approval of all three boards of commissioners were sought and obtained.
The three-sided nature of Headwaters Hill also meant that it was appropriate to consult three ranger districts and get their approval, as well as the state and national offices of the U.S. Forest Service. And there's the state government (as it turns out, the state archives office handles our place names).
As you can see, naming a mountain is no simple matter. Climbing Headwaters Hill can't be that hard, though, since even I have done it. Every fall, George leads a small expedition from Marshall Pass to Headwaters Hill -- a diverse group ranging from healthy Western students to retirees to gasping out-of-shape boomers like me.
He's called it a Naming Quest
in the past, but
this year it will have to be a formal christening for the
new official name.
I suggested some champagne, with corks and bubbly erupting into three drainages. He responded that it would be more fitting to make the hike with three kegs of beer, one from a brew-pub in each drainage.
While that does sound appropriate, I confess I was not entirely disappointed by my research, which revealed that there hasn't been a brewery in the Closed Basin since William Bingle opened the Saguache Brewery in 1885 and closed it in 1886.
So the exact means of celebration remains to be determined. But in Colorado these days, a domain of increasing gentrification and generification, it's a novelty to have anything to celebrate.
< PREVIOUS ] [ 2001 Index ] [ Ed Quillen HOME ] [ SEARCH ] [ NEXT >