July 4, 2020: A 13.9er!!!

It will be easy, they said.

Only 6 miles, he said.

Rated Class 2 (easy with snow), the book proclaimed.

Easy peasy. So what if it's a 14er (one of the 96 mountains in the United States and 58 in Colorado peaking at above 14,000 feet)? I've done four before. What's the big deal?

What the book, Garrett, and I didn't take into account...

52 year old hot flashes (raising heart rate to 160 while climbing from 12,000 to 13,000 feet and
a thunderstorm slyly rolling in at 13,500 feet and
none of the four of us (Jake and Zeke were in tow too) packing rain gear for unanticipated rain for our 4th of July hike.

That pretty much sums it up. But let me regress.

4th of July. A beautiful Saturday. A perfect day for a hike. But not just an ordinary hike. We decided to take on an 'easy' fourteener.

With a 6 am wake-up call and a gorgeous drive through Silverton and then 4 wheeling to remote parts of the mountains, we reached our desired trailhead. All seemed perfect. We three humans + pup started our climb. All seemed well in the world for the first mile.

Easy peasy. Then I handed Zeke and leash over to Jake. They proceeded to basically run to the top of the mountain.

And then there was me. My heart started beating out of my chest on many of the escalations as my menopausal hot flashes seemed not adapt to the high altitude. Garrett patiently stayed back with me, encouraging me to push through. I found my pace, calculated how long to the top and how many steps (750) equated to each .25 mile. I had a plan.

Then came the rolling black clouds with accompanying thunder.

Rain, rain, go away??

Hmmmm....with thunder, comes rain and then comes lightening? Without cell service, I could not Google to validate this theory, but with poles in my hands and people still looking microscopic on the peak, I was feeling nervous.

750 more steps in, I came to the realization that my calculation to top was off because we parked a quarter of a mile down from the trailhead. Note that a quarter of a mile doesn't mean a lot when you are walking on flatland, but man does it feel like 5 miles when you are scaling a peak with gusting winds and an impeding storm.

Flashbacks came to me of a time 11 years ago when I didn't know a trailhead from a gravel road. I was road-tripping with my parents (pre-Garrett Brucker, mountain man, years). We were driving through the Bison National Park in Montana and I was hell-bent to see what was at the top of the 'hill' I saw outside my car window.

Wearing only shorts, flip flops, and a thin hoodie (not too far from my attire today), the rain began and I took off running. I could only hear my mom tell Dad, "Jim, just let her go. Once she sets her mind to something, she is determined. Storm or no storm, she is going." (photos cred to Mom are below).

Yes, there was a storm that day too. I did get to the top (it was a short trail...no 14er) with rain pouring by the time I hit the peak. On my flip-flopped run back down, hail pelted me in the face and I was drenched.

I did learn some lessons from that maiden hiking adventure oh so many years ago, but others I have chosen to ignore. A lesson I did learn was that determination does not have to equate to being stupid. Today I acknowledged that I will never win in a war against lightening. The lesson in proper hiking attire and being prepared? Not so much.

At 13,900 feet, with the rain starting and thunder rolling, I turned around and started running back down the mountain. Note that Jake and Zeke had reached the top and made it down the mountain without being hit with a drop of rain. Garrett was ahead of me and was able to race to the top and took a quick picture. Everyone else on the trail was outfitted in rain gear and were racing down the mountain as well.

Did I mention the rain gear? We packed none. As I reached about 13,800 feet, I watched the lady ahead of me stop and put on pants, coat, hat; as though she was preparing for cross-country skiing.

"What the hell?" I thought with my cotton tank top and shorts. Note that I was still burning from hot flashes and was loving my tank (pre-rain). It is super-special because I cut out the sleeves myself to make it a tank top. Yeah me! The rain gear woman had at least $300 of North Face gear on while I thought I was the smart one (note I do have very good rain essentials carefully packed away at HOME).

This is the part where I haven't learned much since Montano hiking, other than not wearing flip flops. I did pack a hoodie. But yet another fail as it was a thin cotton hoodie (but very cute in grey and bright yellow!) purchased last week for $19.99 from a t-shirt shop on Main Street Durango.

But I ran like Forrest Gump, water dripping off of every piece of cotton, non-dry-fit clothing. Garrett caught up to me at the last mile and we ran the final stretch, soaked, but together. My trail running shoes were a brilliant purchase (one wardrobe win for me).

After reaching the car with sopping shoes, it took about two hours of carefully pointed vents to dry out clothing, inch by inch. Garrett decided to take a different route home. With Jake later checking his phone map (which we hadn't before making this choice), he let us know our new route turned into a 3 1/2 hour drive home (took us 2 hours to get there). I quickly concluded that Jake should be in charge next time.

In the end, it was a great day. None of us had driven on the roads we took home, so we saw parts of Colorado we had never seen before. We ate (ravenously) at a great Mexican restaurant in South Fork, Colorado. We also started an audio book enjoyed by the three humans passing the time while Zeke snoozed away in the back.

A great day. Really.

Not what I expected and I was bummed not to hold the "14,000 Feet" sign at the top, but that's okay. It's good to remember that the fun isn't always in the the destination and following a set plan. The real fun is in the adventure, which inevitably comes with bumps in the road.

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2009 Hike: