I said to myself, "My choice of shoes for this hike was not well thought out. I think I may end up with bone bruises." Often times, online research doesn't convey the reality of an experience. It's usually hard to be proactive when deciding what pieces of gear might be relevant vs. irrelevant. Perhaps, I've become complacent in some of my hikes this year...
"It's 7:00pm -- time for bed, babe." Andrea said to me on Friday evening. Alarm clocks were set for 2:00am. Early start, right? So, why didn't we camp the night before? Well, we have a semi-precious, not-cute-whatsoever, Border Corgi that we don't want to leave alone for multiple days. We decided to depart the Springs at 2:30am to arrive in the Leadville area around 5:30am. We knew it would be a very long day, reminiscent of our Longs Peak adventure in August, 2015.
As I drove past the abandoned towns and mines through the fog of Tennessee Pass early Saturday morning, I felt an eerie mystique about this area. The history in this part of Colorado always fascinates me. My grandfather worked as a silver miner in Leadville for a brief period of time, so it was an interesting thought imagining what it was like during the 1960's.
The sun was beckoning over the crest of the Sawatch Range as we approached the rough 2WD road in my trusty Xterra. It took about 30 minutes to drive 8 miles on this road, since its predominant features were large pits and small, sharp rocks. The aspen trees were unique in this area. I could tell they were very old due to the diameter and height of each tree, brilliantly networked together. We drove up a little further to find that this was a very busy and popular hike. We had to make the sacrifice and parallel park down the dirt road quite a way. As I've read, thousands of people hike the North Ridge of MOHC, but only hundreds hike the Halo Ridge. Of course, given the extremophiles (not the archaean microorganisms) we are, Halo Ridge was our drink of choice. Andrea has accomplished 25 total 14er summits and I've accomplished 29 summits, so our experience has built over time.
"Let the adventure commence." I remarked at 7:00am -- an unusually late start time for us. We began hiking at a steady pace, admiring the floral biodiversity along the way. The wildflowers were energized, basking in the sun, while displaying their vivid colors. The bees were buzzing, going about their busy days. We briefly took photos, but wanted to keep making progress on the hike. Ahead was the first of many great challenges. A series of rocky switchbacks slithering its way up toward the ridge. Thirty switchbacks to be exact. Once we reached the ridge, we were able to survey the unique, historical shelter that was built in 1924. We regained our bearings while peering at the mammoth MOHC. The Halo Ridge Route is notoriously strenuous, but lying ahead of us was not what we expected. Rock scrambling galore. To get to Holy Cross, one must traverse three 13er peaks. The first 13er was the most challenging, since we were gaining most of the elevation here. Once we reached the summit, we had to lose some elevation. The second 13er was much easier, but it was a game of "Can you balance on these boulders while they shift next to a 500 foot cliff?" The third 13er was the easiest; however, we had to descend several hundred feet, again while performing the balancing act.
At this point, we were both getting a little aggravated. For me, it was my shoe selection. Typically, we can run some 14ers, so I usually choose a comfy pair of trail runners. For this hike, that was a terrible selection. My gut instinct was to wear my La Sportiva approach shoes. They're stiff, stick to rocks like glue, and also pretty comfortable. I went with my Saucony Peregrine trail running shoes. Sticking to the rock was a challenge, but the worst part was the flexing of the shoe which would cause my ankle to bash against neighboring rocks. Anyway, I guess as outdoorsy people, we don't always make the right decisions. All we can do is base our future decisions off of past experiences.
We approached the summit of MOHC. It looked a little intimidating gazing up at it, but I decided to zone out and continue with more class two rock scrambling. Before we knew it, we were standing on the summit. We performed the ceremonial reapplication of the sunscreen, consumption of the Honey Stinger bars, and the guzzling of water... wait... what water? My water supply was quickly depleted over the course of four individual summits. I heard a man we had met earlier say, "Does anybody need extra water. I have a lot left." I had to say yes because I knew that 14 ounces would not last me another 6 miles. I thanked him and was grateful for his offer. Andrea and I began our descent from the summit with more rock scrambling action ahead of us. It quickly flattened out some and became more of a trail again.
I'm a very obsessive person when it comes to logistics such as: directions, time, weather, etc. During these 14er hikes, I feel that my eyes are partially glued to the sky, evaluating the clouds. The time was around 2:00pm and we were still above treeline. Typically, we are back within the shelter of the trees before noon on these hikes. The risk of thunderstorms during the summer is very high. Hiking above treeline during a storm is very risky. You're basically tempting fate and inviting lightning to strike you. Luckily, the spotty, dark clouds weren't sinister, so we did have time on our side.
We kept descending at a pretty quick pace. We found a stream where many folks were congregating and relaxing. I dipped my hat and buff in the stream to try to cool off. We knew exactly why everybody was relaxing. The trail system takes a sadistic turn for the worse shortly after the stream. Half Moon Pass was awaiting our arrival. A pass that ascends 900 feet. "Sip, sip. Well, that it for me." I'm completely out of water with 2.75 miles to go. Andrea also ran out of water at this point. I felt pretty hydrated most of the day, but the last couple of miles really kicked my ass. The dehydration, cotton mouth, and lethargy were setting in. The only relief was to keep hiking forward, knowing that I had a treasure chest of water in my Xterra. Stumbling and tripping, we finally made our way to the car. It's amazing how the body responds to drinking water after a couple hours of dehydration. I felt alert and alive again. I was getting to the point earlier where I was willing to risk a Giardia infection just to chug some river water. I'm thankful I refused because Giardia infections suck!
After relaxing for a few minutes, the time was 6:00pm. We were starving and knew of a place in Leadville that would meet our needs. Tennessee Pass Cafe. It was the best dinner after a long hike. I downed a couple cups of coffee, since we had to get back to our semi-precious, not-cute-whatsoever, Border Corgi. 2.5 hours later, we made it home. 11:00pm and extremely exhausted, I said to Andrea, "We're camping next time." She said,"Okay." It seems that we should've learned from our Longs Peak experience that cramming these intense climbs into one day is absurd and borderline insane. Amnesia is the mountaineer's affliction.
This was a character-building experience. I learned that I cannot simply rely on online research. I have to use my best judgment for what works for me and I suggest that anyone taking on such a task to please use discernment. But, it was an awesome day and we accomplished what we set out for. There will always be little things here and there to learn for next time. For me, choose the shoes/boots wisely and take an extra liter of water.
Cheers,
J
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