That's cool as in
not the 71st day (and counting) of triple digit temperatures. Cool as getting snowed on on the 4th of July. Cool, as in needing to snuggle down in the sleeping bag. Ahhhh. That's more like it.
Other than the obvious 108 degrees expected today, my nephew John, blogging about his recent trek to the top of Pikes Peak got me to thinking about Colorado. If you
check out his story, you will see that his mountain-climb was inspired by an even greater feat - the discipline to lose 120 pounds of excess avoirdupois! Way to go, John!
My mountain-climb could be attributed to not having a clue about what was involved in climbing one of Colorado's fourteeners. What were you thinking, Bob?
Way, way back - the summer our son graduated from high-school - the new youth-director told the kids that they were going on Trek that summer. Here's the info, we need your money by this date, and oh-by-the-way we need a few adults to go and drive and be responsible, (because the YD certainly wasn't). For some reason, Barb said she would go. After I recovered from the shock of her going, I realized that meant I had to go too - if for no other reason than to bury her body by the side of the trail!
To be fair, the materials pointed out that even though there was no technical climbing involved, one was expected to be reasonably fit, and a good exercise regimen would be helpful in achieving this fitness. So we exercised. We walked, and jogged, and carried backpacks full of rocks around, and after the second day of this nonsense declared ourselves fit as we were going to get.
The afternoon of departure, we loaded up two church vans, split the driving duties between the five adults, and headed for Twin Lakes, Colorado. We got as far as Abilene before we had to stop several hours while one of the vans had some repair work. Back on the road, we were not out of West Texas before the air conditioning quit on the other van. The plan was to drive straight through. The plan was stupid.
Breakfast at a Hardees in Hereford, forcibly make the kids trade seats in air-conditioned van for seats in non-air-conditioned van, forcibly make one of the adult drivers who refused to be relieved to step away from the van, and we were on the road again.
As part of our conditioning regimen, both Barb and I had given up caffeine; we recognized that we were headed for a wilderness area, and a caffeine dependency just wouldn't do, would it? Never mind that when we finally made it to base camp in the hills above Twin Lakes, we met the Dr Pepper truck coming out of the gate after the driver had restocked the vending machine in the dining hall.
We got there on Saturday afternoon and spent the rest of the day in instruction and orientation. Bobby Wood was running Wilderness Trek at that time, and as he told us what to expect for the rest of the week it was at that point some of the young ladies realized there would be no restrooms on the trail. The expression on their faces was worth the trip.
Sunday morning was worship out on the point - looking across the valley at Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive. Seeing the two tallest mountains in Colorado from that perspective inspired a lot of prayers that morning. Sunday afternoon we went to rappel. All of us. Even Barb. She was not too keen about the idea of stepping off the face of a 100 foot cliff with nothing between her and the ground but a couple of thin ropes. She was less thrilled when the ropes got tangled and she was stuck on the side of the cliff. While Bobby climbed down to get her going again, I was looking around for a shovel and a good burial plot.
One of our group refused to rappel. Absolutely. Refused. No. The youth director talked to him, the adults talked to him, the other kids talked to him. Not go down that rope. Finally, Bobby told him that he had a choice: he could rappel, or he could rappel. That was the only way he was going to get off the mountain. He rappelled. And loved it! We saw lots of changed behavior that week, but that fear turned to victory moment was priceless.
Monday we divided the tents, cooking gear and food among us and set out for high camp on Mt Elbert. Never mind that our backpacks were already stuffed full before we distributed another 40 pounds of gear per person. Tie it on and hit the trail.
The "back" slope of Elbert - our approach that morning - starts out with a significant segment of scree - loose, slippery rock. Easily displaced, we spent the morning yelling "Rock" to those coming along below us, and dodging the rolling boulders from those above us. We finally reached vegetation again, and began following an old logging trail upwards.
About mid-morning, it began to rain. Now ponchos were on the list of things to bring, but Bobby had already pointed out that they are next to useless in keeping you and your pack dry. Garbage bags work for the packs, and some of the kids resorted to using them for ponchos as well. But the fact is we got wet. And cold. And miserable. And did I mention wet?
High camp is at about 11,000 feet - right at treeline. Some of us got there with everything, Some of us got there without our back packs, and some didn't get there at all. The stronger ones of the group went back to collect packs and trekkers and bring them up. I was not among that group. It was still raining, we were still wet, and we were still miserable. Finally, someone got a non-Forest Service approved fire started and we huddled around that for a time, and then the sun came out.
I cannot describe to you the sheer joy of that group upon seeing the sun. Never was a little sunshine received with more delight and adulation than at that moment. All became well with the world again, and we almost forgave Bobby for dragging us up here. Supper that night included fried Spam, a delicacy that most of the kids had never experienced. One of the guys was so excited, he said he couldn't wait to tell his mother about Spam. I was pretty sure she wouldn't share that enthusiasm.
It rained again that night. Unfortunately, our Trek Director believed in letting Trekkers make non-fatal mistakes (and we are suspicious about the other kind), so no one told a certain group of girls and the female adult sponsor that the door of their tent should not open on the uphill side of the mountain. If you do that, water flowing down hill rushes in the tent door and fills the tent. Someone who shall remain nameless will forever be remembered as shouting at the Trek Director, when he explained the mistake the next morning, "We could have stayed at home and gotten wet for a whole lot less money!"
Tuesday was acclimation. Above high camp the slopes were still covered with snow, and we climbed up onto those snow fields and glissaded down them. Glissaded is a technical term that means we sat down on the snow and tobogganed down the side of the mountain, dragging an ice axe behind us in the mistaken belief that it would a) slow us down, b) help steer us, and c) allow us to stop when we ran out of snow.
Wednesday, early Wednesday was summit day. Up at 4am, eat a dry breakfast and begin a death march to the peak. From high camp to the peak of Elbert, there are 7 false summits; you see what you think is the top and put everything you've got into making that, only to find that there's more mountain ahead of you. It was at this point one of the kids asked how we would know when we got to the peak. Bobby, said, "You'll know when there's no more up." Above 11,000 feet breathing is labored. The least exertion winds you. At some point you realize that you are taking a step, then taking a breath. Step. Breath. Later in the morning, it has become step, breath, breath, breath, step, breath, breath, breath.
And then there's no more up. You are sitting on the rock pile that is the top of Mt Elbert, elevation, 14,440 feet! We sing a couple of songs, take the group photos, and it's time to head down. Storms come early at this elevation and to be caught on the peak is to risk becoming a crispy critter. So we start the descent.
And that's when you realize that you have given everything you have to get to the top. You are completely exhausted, and going down the mountain is just as hard as going up the mountain. You just use different muscles. There's no elevator, no road, no snow field to glissade down. It's just one foot in front of the other. It was the hardest thing I've ever done.
Thursday was the trek down from high camp, where we found out there was a logging road that completely bypassed the dangerous scree. Back to trail head, back to base camp, wonderful feast waiting for us and then the Thursday night bonfire.
You had to be there to fully appreciate the bonfire. So many attitude changes. So many life-lessons. The Thursday night bonfire is the reason you go through this hell.
One of the hardest things I've ever done. So hard, that we went twice more - La Plata and Mt. Harvard, and timed a vacation trip so we could be at another Thursday night bonfire. And forever more, our family had a mantra: "You've been wet and cold before. You will get over it."
BuffaloAustin Wildflower Buffalo
Listening to @Austin360Radio on my Android and they're playing Buffalo Soldier by Marley. Great way to start the weekend!
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