A First

A hiking group I belong to planned to hike Mt Evans. I nervously agreed to give it a try. Nervous is perhaps an understatement. I was anxious and maybe even a little scared. What if I am not able to do it? What if I have to turn around half way and go back to the car? What if I get altitude sickness? This is not that far out of the question... I once was in a bike race at high elevation and couldn't finish because I was getting dizzy.  But mostly, what if I just can't do this? I know I said that already, but it was a pretty big worry.

We left from Arvada early in the morning. I had tried to go to sleep early the night before, but I was too nervous. I was very glad for coffee to start my day. Our plan was to hike up Guanella Pass, which would be a round trip 8.5 mile hike and a 3,100 foot gain on the ascent. (I feel like a real adventurer saying something like "on the ascent" - I could be hiking Mt Everest...okay not really).

View from the parking lot

The beginning of the hike felt a bit like England and a bit like hiking through a jungle, at least what I think hiking through a jungle would be like. I say this because we were pushing our way through willows (which seemed jungle-y to me) and through mud (which was very like my Pennine Way journey). In fact, I was ankle deep in mud pretty quickly. Fortunately, my boots are used to mud. They don't even flinch, and neither do I. Some of my hiking companions were trying very hard to avoid the mud. I tried initially, but once I sank the first time, I just decided it was best to just walk right through it.

The source of the mud?

The group

The end of the willows brought a short walk through a lovely meadow filled with flowers - columbines, Indian paintbrush, elephant flowers...

So far, this hike was going pretty well. I was definitely slower than everyone else, but there's nothing new about that. All too soon, however, we started to climb up a gully. The trail was covered in scree. With my inherent clumsiness, this meant that I had to go even more slowly in order to keep my footing.  Or maybe I was going more slowly because now we were seriously starting to climb.

Looking back from the start of the gully

We were at over 11,000 feet now and the altitude was starting to affect me. My legs felt heavy and sluggish. Every few feet I wanted to stop and rest.  I tried to remind myself that slow and steady wins the race, but it was hard when I fell further and further behind the group with every step. A fellow hiker, Jenny, was kind enough to come back for me. She patiently encouraged me to keep going and waited when I felt that I had to stop to breathe.

At the top of the gully, we headed across an open space, liberally populated with rocks. It seemed less steep, and so I thought maybe Jenny and I could at least keep pace with the group now. However, the altitude made every step a challenge for me. I was getting frustrated. I had been running 5 days a week leading up to this hike. Why wasn't that training helping me? The top of the mountain wasn't even in sight yet, according to Jenny. I wanted to quit. I wanted to turn around. Fortunately, my desire to succeed, to finish overrode my increasingly tired muscles.  I started to repeat my little hiking mantra in my head: "one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other..."

I encouraged myself, I cajoled, I made promises. Slowly I made it to the western ridge of Mt Evans. Now I had to climb through rocks on the side of a mountain. I was nervous; after all if my clumsiness got too bad, I could go tumbling down the rocks. At one point I did stumble and smash my shin on a rock. My heart was pounding. "Too close!" I thought.  I determined that even if it took me a lot longer, I needed to be sure of my footing. Fortunately, the remainder of the scrambling was uneventful.

Finally, finally, I made it to the summit! It was filled with people, most of whom had driven up the mountain. It was almost overwhelming to have so many people suddenly surrounding me.  Mostly, however, I felt such a huge sense of accomplishment. I did it! I made it! It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't quick. But, I succeeded.

The typical shot with sign...

The four 1st timers in our group

I don't remember feeling quite this sense of accomplishment with any of my academic achievements. I guess it has to do with my love of challenge. When I feel that there is a chance that I will not be able to do something, and then I triumph, it is exhilarating. It makes me feel alive.

The hike back down was definitely easier although the gully was a challenge again. Rocks were sliding out from under my feet, and again I needed to move slowly to keep from falling. Fortunately, I had company. Tessa and I took our time as we gingerly walked on top of the scree in the gully.

Tessa and Katina

 

When we reached the willows, it was almost a relief to sink ankle deep into mud. At least my feet weren't sliding!!!

Marmot!

Back through the willows

In the end it had taken us almost as long to get back down to the car as it had taken to climb. I was so proud of myself. All of the struggle and doubt was worth it! I am now hoping I can climb another 14er soon.

Pictures from a couple of hikes this summer

I did a few nice hikes this spring/summer. Rather than write about each one separately, I thought I'd just post some of the pictures.

In May, my brother John and I went for a short hike at Elk Meadow Park in Evergreen.

Life from apparent death is always powerful

In July I hiked with a group from my church on the Flatirons in Boulder.  It was a fun day, even though we got caught in showers on the way back down.

Lunch break on the way up!

Our hike leaders - Lannea and Nathan

Right before the rain

 Exploring Colorado has been a fun way to spend the summer!