Mountaintops
Happy Father’s Day!
I hope you get to spend today with family, loving on all the fathers in your life and receiving plenty in return if you’re a father.
After a long week of travel, for work and pleasure, I’m back home in Kentucky spending the weekend with my family. I’ve committed to sharing updates about the journey to Kilimanjaro with you, so I wanted to tell you about my recent training.
I began the week in Denver, Colorado, for a work conference. After two days of action-packed learning related to cybersecurity and technology, and a closing keynote from best-selling author Malcolm Gladwell, I unplugged on Wednesday and put my recent training to the test.
To be sure I am physically and mentally prepared for Kilimanjaro before I get to Africa this fall, I made the most of already being in Denver. After a few days of getting used to the higher elevation, I decided to tackle a 14er – the hiking and climbing community’s name for a peak higher than 14,000-ft.
After dinner on Tuesday, I made the 90-minute drive to the trailhead on the Front Range of the Southern Rocky Mountains. After some preparation and situating, I dozed off in the back seat of my rented SUV around 11 p.m.
At 2:30 a.m., I set off from “camp” at Guanella Pass, at 11,640 ft., with a headlamp and my winter pack. I had officially began making my way to the summit of Mt. Bierstadt near Georgetown, Colorado.
I was fortunate to hike with another, far more experienced, climber from Colorado. My new friend had first introduced themselves online in a hiking forum and was incredibly informative in my research before coming out to Denver. Joining me on the trail was a major benefit.
Summit attacks on 14ers begin early for several reasons.
First, the snow remains frozen solid in the dark, making it much easier to navigate. As the sun rises and the snow softens and melts, you’ll begin to “posthole” with every step – meaning your foot sinks into the snow, sometimes up to your knees and even waistline.
Also, the mountains around Denver are notorious for afternoon thunderstorms. If caught in a storm above the tree line, about 11,500-ft., hikers are at risk of being struck by lightning. To avoid that unnecessary danger, it is best to plan and be off the mountain by midday.
Most treks of this nature begin around 5 a.m., but I wanted to see the sunrise from the top, so I shifted my start time even earlier. Since Bierstadt is a Class 2 trek, I wanted to give myself plenty of time to navigate the obstacles.
The snow melt from the warm spring season has Scott Gomer Creek in the nearby valley raging and out of its banks. While probably best to cross with waders, gaiters, barefoot, or an extra pair of shoes/socks, I navigated it with minimal splashing by hopping across a few exposed rocks – in the dark.
There are plenty of spots along the main trail up the west slopes where you’re essentially trudging upstream through running water. Staying dry on this day was a feat.
I reached the summit ridge just as the sun was coming up. The trail reaches a saddle a few hundred feet below the true summit, and a thick snow cornice lined the final ascent. At 6:04 a.m., I made my way through the boulders and ice to the summit of Bierstadt. At sunrise it was about 28 degrees, and the wind was howling.
I was the first to make it to the top, followed by 6-7 more over the next 30-45 minutes. But for quite some time I had the mountaintop all to myself. The alpenglow over the Front Range was the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen in nature.
After I reached the top, I found the summit survey marker and then a place to sit down and have a drink of water. In the time I was alone, as the sun continued to rise above the surrounding peaks, the wind died down and for a moment I sat in complete silence.
I’d be lying to you if I said it wasn’t emotional.
After a few minutes, I called my wife (woke her up, oops), recorded a video for my kids, and snapped several dozen photos. I visited with the other hikers who made their way up soon after my arrival.
Conditions on the upper slopes of the mountain that morning were nearly perfect, with plenty of sunshine and cloudless blue skies. Even though it is June, there was still plenty of snow above 12,000 ft., requiring poles and spikes to navigate. As the sun warmed the snow fields, same steps I had made in the dark were now through a slushy mix of water, ice, and mud.
Just before 7 a.m., I began to make my way down, and passed probably 70–100 people on their way up the mountain. At 9:30 a.m., I was back to my car, changing into shorts and t-shirt, and heading for a big lunch.
After a hearty cheeseburger lunch at Clear Creek Cidery in Idaho Springs, I made my way down to Manitou Springs. My plan was to hike the famous Manitou Incline — 2,768 steps made of railroad ties stacked straight up the mountainside and a 2.5-mile descent down Barr trail back to the trailhead. It was 92 degrees outside when I checked-in and began climbing the steps just after 3 p.m.
The Incline is no joke. I struggled mightily. I stopped for a break around step 1,570. There’s a point where you can bail out and join the trail back down and being tired from the short night’s rest and literally climbing a mountain that morning, I seriously considered it.
About that time, storm clouds rolled in, and a very light sprinkle began. The clouds provided shade from the sun, and the cool rain re-energized me. I was more than halfway to the top, so I decided to make a push for it. I’m so glad I did.
I reached the top, took the obligatory photo with the number plate on the final step and sat down to rest. A group of people finished about the same time I did and invited me to join them for the hike down Barr Trail back to the parking lot.
The group included two yoga instructors and an active-duty USAF service member. By way of their careers, they had all become “locals” to Colorado Springs. They were super-friendly, encouraging, and great company on the 2.5 mile hike back to the car.
They also recommended a fantastic restaurant for dinner. If you’re ever in Manitou Springs, give Crystal Park Cantina a try, you’ll be glad you did!
I enjoyed a wonderful dinner, and met a lovely couple at the bar. I think they thought I was insane for trying a 14er and the Incline in the same day, but when I mentioned Kilimanjaro they lit up. Turns out, the gentleman is from the Congo and was elated to talk about his own African experience.
Experienced local hikers I met on the trail told me I was moving fast in the mountains, for anyone, but definitely for someone who lives at 400 ft. and had never been on a real mountain before.
I was able to reach 14,000 ft. in a solid time, with no real effects from the altitude. I did catch myself breathing harder than I expected, but I did not suffer any headaches, nausea, or dizziness. I just kept drinking water, about 3 liters from start to finish on Bierstadt, and another 2 liters on the Incline. The worst of it was when my bad knee began to tell me it had enough near the top of the Incline. Two Tylenol and a knee brace took care of that.
In all, the day consisted of 4,685-ft. of elevation gain across 12 miles of hiking. It was a fantastic experience, and my confidence in the Kilimanjaro trek is only increased. I cannot wait to get back to the mountains.
