lost

Facing down the end of summer and looking at a long, miserable Colorado winter, I decided against heading out to Moab and instead planned assault on a few more 14ers.

The trip called for leaving Grand Junction around noon on Friday and stopping by Mt. of the Holy Cross. 14ers.com had pegged the round trip at 11.5 miles, which I figured I’d be able to do before the sun set. After that, I’d head out to the Mt. Massive trailhead and car-camp for until the next morning for an attempt at Colorado’s second highest mountain.

Stepped off just after 3:30PM from the Half Moon trailhead on Tigiwon Road. Was running the flatter parts and hiking hard when things got steep. Soon I came to Half Moon pass and ran the next mile or so, which dropped about 1,000 feet down to East Cross Creek. The next mile or so to treeline was steep but I continued to push the pace. I was making great time and didn’t even bother to think about the sun going down.

Above treeline, things became a bit more difficult. It was hard class 2 climbing the rest of the way. Very, very slow, but I continued up at a steady pace. Holy Cross is one of those hikes where you’re really working your ass off but the peak doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.

Eventually, after what seemed like (and may have actually been) hours, I made it to the summit. I was rewarded with a fantastic view of the continental divide. I could see it raining in Leadville, about 30 miles up the road, but the weather was beautiful where I was. I performed my usual ritual: fired up a cigar and popped open a can of Pabst. Sent out a few text messages, then called Katie to say hello.

While on the phone with Katie I actually said, “woah, it’s starting to get dark, I should probably be going.” I then told her I’d call her from Leadville, where I planned to stop for a few beers before heading out to the Mount Massive trailhead.

Heading down off the Peak was even slower than heading up. It was getting dark quickly, and the cairns I followed up the mountain were getting really hard to see. Before I knew it, I had to pull out the headlamp, and that made the cairns impossible to follow, as I couldn’t tell a cairn from a regular rock.

No problem though. I figured I’d just drop straight down to treeline and follow the trees over until I hit the dirt singletrack path I’d hiked in on.

Well, it just wasn’t meant to be. It was pitch black out, and I couldn’t see any of the surrounding mountains or even the mountain I had just climbed. I became disoriented very quickly. I also found myself scrambling down steeper and steeper rocks. It got to the point where had I been forced to head back up, I doubt I could have climbed out.

Shortly after one of my legs fell into a deep hole and I whacked my knee on a rock (I still have a huge bruise there), I took a seat to assess my situation. I had a vague idea of what direction I had to go to get back to the trailhead. I could also hear East Cross Creek way down below me, and I knew that if I could get there I could follow the stream back to the main trail.

However, the portion of the mountain I was on was pretty steep. And my eyesight was limited to the small beam of my headlamp. I was worried that in my rush to the stream I was gonna get myself into a situation that I couldn’t get out of.

So I decided that I was gonna hafta spend the night at treeline (just under 12,000 feet). Luckily for me it wasn’t as cold as it could have been, as I had on BDU pants, a short sleeve cotton shirt, a long sleeve pseudo-technical shirt from Nash Hash-South Dakota, and a thin fleece I got from the Bandera 100K a few years ago. In my Camelbak I had about 1.5 liters of water, a Clif bar, a can of Pabst, four Philly blunts, and, thankfully, a lighter.

Found a semi-level place where some trees and rocks would break the wind. It was probably in the high 30s, not cold enough to freeze to death but more than enough to make life miserable. Even though it had recently rained and all the wood was wet, I eventually got a fire going which made life suck a little less.

I tried to use my cell phone to call Katie and tell her not to worry. No signal. There was, however, 911 access. I was afraid that Katie would worry when I didn’t call her from Pb-ville, so I called 911, reported my situation, and told them not to send search and rescue if anyone called in for me.

The next hour or so was nice. I chilled out next to the small fire, smoked a cigar, and enjoyed my Pabst. Shortly after that life turned pretty shitty. The next six hours would have me curled up in the cannonball position, trying to stay warm. I had built half a fire ring, and used my body as the other half. About every twenty minutes the fire would burn down, and I’d wake up shivering like hell. But as bad as things got, I kept telling myself, “hey, it could be worse, at least it’s not raining.”

The only part of my body I really worried about was my feet. My sneakers had got wet while crossing some snow up high, so I took off my shoes and socks. My dogs were cold! I took my camo boonie cap and wrapped that around my feet, which helped somewhat.

After what seemed like an eternity the sun came up. Trying to get up and walk was an adventure, as my legs were all kindsa cramped up from shivering all night. Took me about half an hour before I could really start moving again.

Fairly anti-climactic from here on. I was probably ¾ of a mile from where I was supposed to be. Once I could see again I saw where I had to go, and about four hours later I was back at the car, enjoying another PBR.

Once I got cell phone reception I called Katie. She said, “how’s Mt. Massive?”

“Shit, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me. You weren’t worried last night when I didn’t call?”

“No,” she replied, “I just figured you got drunk in Leadville and forgot.”