January 30, 2007

• Climb Every Mountain!

  (Or One of Them, at Least)

  RECYCLING TALES OF YESTERYEAR

  In July of 2003, I visited an old college buddy of mine in Colorado.  While out there we hiked to the top of Longs Peak with some of his friends.  I was the only flatlander in our group, but at the time I was in decent shape from running and lifting. 

  The trailhead was located near 9000 feet.  We began hiking early in the morning before the sun arose, through a mostly coniferous forest:

  

  

  As we ascended, the forest gave way to alpine meadow:
  
  
  

  And then, steamy tropical jungle:

  

  Oops, that belongs in another story!

  
  Actually, the vegetation ended and we reached the boulder field.  At the upper right you can see an opening in the rock formation called "The Keyhole".  On our way across the boulder field we aimed for that landmark...From that point on the rest of the climb was much more arduous, due to both the terrain and the altitude.  Up until then it had been more of a hike than a climb.  You can see only a very small amount of snow here.  I was told that was because of a drought the preceding winter.  The lack of snow made our climbing a lot easier than it might have been.  That summer was also very dry and we were fortunate not to encounter one of the mountain's frequent afternoon thunderstorms on our way back down.

  Here's looking down the mountain on the other side of The Keyhole:
  
  

  After a strenuous climb, I stand triumphant upon the mountaintop, 14,259 feet above sea level:
  
  ...in an era before digital cameras (or at least before I had one)
  

  It was about this time that I began to develop a headache.  We had summitted fairly quickly.  After a few minutes of rest and enjoying the view from the top, we began a painstaking descent.  Fatigue set in and our movements slowed considerably as my head continued to throb and I began to feel a little sick.  I discovered that I had not brought enough to drink...the dry air can be
  deceptive and water loss from exertion is not so easily noticed.  Fortunately, someone wiser in our group had been prepared and gave me some water.  Back down below the boulder field my headache and nausea began to subside.  In the last few miles the hike seemed like it would never end.  Our weary feet became a lot more sensitive to all the poking rocks and roots on the trail, but we pressed onward and completed it, exhausted.

  Back at the car we agreed it had been a lot of fun but not something any of us was eager to do again.

  But probably the best thing is that it gave me something to brag about, which I enjoy whether or not anyone is paying attention.

  • 11:03 am
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