Day 7, June 24, 2014
Huron: The Art of the Two Minute Nap
I was way behind schedule. My plan had been to finish Huron in less than an hour…However, I had also worked about 3 hours of sleep into my schedule, and according to that schedule I needed to start La Plata in the morning at 4:45 am. Clearly I needed some rest after the last set of mountains, but I could try to get back on schedule by skipping some sleep. So I decided to ask for 1:30 minutes of sleep. It was very cold, and I crawled into my sleeping bag on the ground and slept. I just remember the Jeep leaving as I drifted off to sleep.
It was immediately time to wake up! Well, that is what it felt like. Man was it cold! Fortunately, I was able to catch an extra few minutes in the sleeping bag as Andrea taped up some blisters on my feet. Surprisingly, I only had a couple blisters, which doesn’t do justice to what they felt like. I was shivering like crazy as I got out of the bag and prepared to go. I groggily remembered that Wes had showed up to hike with me again.
After thanking Kim and Andrea for helping me get ready, Wes and I started up the mountain at 2:17 am. This was the beginning of yet another huge day. We had to get up and over 4 solitary mountains, no “easy” traverse from peak to peak for us today. Each and every mountain we had to go all the way up, and all the way down. To break 10 days for the record I had been hoping to be ahead of schedule right now, but now I was just struggling to keep up with the schedule. It was actually pretty encouraging that was so close to the schedule so far. If I stayed on schedule, even though I might just miss cracking the 10 day barrier, I still looked to shatter the old record by nearly 18 hours. In fact I felt confident that if I could just avoid an injury I would destroy the record, I wasn’t even worried about it. I was just trying to somehow think of a way to gain those few hours that would allow me to break 10 days. It seemed that I just had to survive today, and then tomorrow, the big day in the Elks would make or break me!
It was great having Wes back, but also a little discouraging. It was just so easy for him…Of course, he reminded me that he hadn’t been through what I had been through…yet it is still humbling to hike with people that seem so fast. He seemed invincible. Every step at the beginning of the hike was difficult. I needed some time to loosen up, let the foot pain numb out, and to fully wake up. At 11,000 feet Wes gave me back my pack, and we continued up at a pretty reasonable 1500 foot per hour pace. Several times I had to bend over, lean over my poles, and cough and try to hack out some gunk out of my lungs, and then we would continue onward.
The trail up the west side of Huron is a very good trail, except maybe the last few hundred feet to the summit where it enters a loose talus field. We reached the summit at 4:18 am, and this was encouraging because climbing 3500 feet in 2 hours was a very decent pace, consideration how beat up I was.
However, on the way down I started having trouble staying upright again, and my vision was blurring. So I asked Wes if he didn’t mind if I took a nap, and laid down for a short rest. In two minutes, I popped up ready to go again. A couple of short naps like this seemed to refresh me just enough to keep moving. Wes was impressed that he didn’t have to start prodding me to come back to life, considering how quickly I was falling asleep. Soon it started to get light, and of course that is always the best medicine when you are struggling with sleep deprivation in early morning hours.
We headed down and started seeing other people coming up, which was still a surprisingly rare experience. It is amazing how crowded the 14ers are during peak times, such as weekend morning in the summer, yet how desolate they can be if you are up there at uncommon times…You know, like midnight in a whiteout!
We reached the trailhead at 6:00 am. Kim and Andrea were waiting with the Jeep Liberty to drive me to the starting location for La Plata. Wes decided to join me for yet another peak, so he followed along with his dad. I fell asleep right away.
La Plata: The Secret Bridge
The plan for La Plata was to drive up from Winfield and hike it from the south side. This is actually the easiest route on La Plata, and since we were already near Winfield because we just descended Huron, it was a no brainer.
However, for the way down I wanted to head north down the standard route of La Plata. It was a little harder to descend north because it was a little longer and there was an extra 1000 feet to descend. Normally I would not choose a longer route with more elevation, however in this case it would make the shuttle time to the next peak very short.
Unfortunately, we had recently found out that the bridge over the river was being repaired, so there was no access up the standard route. James had scouted out the river and told me it was raging, so there was no option of swimming across the river. I used to be a raft guide and kayaker and mentioned something like “If only we had a kayak…!” Immediately, James got an excited look in his eye. He could set up a ferry with his raft! So that was our plan and while I was climbing Huron James headed back to Aspen to round up the ferry gear.
I woke up on the bumpy 4 wheel drive road as we headed toward the La Plata trailhead. I didn’t recognize anything, so my mind was still in a fog. Andrea and Kim helped me get ready to go, and I started climbing the trail with Wes at 7:02 am. I had been way behind schedule, but by taking such a short nap in the night we were only about two hours behind my planned schedule. And in the crisp morning light I was feeling pretty optimistic. It still took some time for the stiffness to work out of my legs and the knee pain, foot pain, shin pain, and ankle pain to numb out, but that was what I had signed up for! I knew this was going to hurt. And here we were on day 7 and I was only an hour behind schedule! This was great, if I could just pull a rabbit out of my hat on the last couple of days, maybe I could break 10 days…
At 11,700 feet, Wes realized that he had the key to his dad’s car, so he decided to head back down, because he didn’t want his dad to be stranded. I said goodbye and continued up the trail. The minute Wes was gone I started to lose my optimism, and I noticed that my legs were burning, and I would still have coughing fits every once in a while. I still had to be careful not push myself too hard because that would lead to difficult breathing problems. Although it seemed like it wasn’t as bad as the day before.
Around 12,000 feet you come into a wide basin that is famous for lots of willows (not fun to bushwhack in) and lots of mud bogs and swampy trails to go through. This year, with all the snow, I figured it was going to be pretty nasty. I wasn’t interested in get my feet wet…on something like this I have found that it is important to take care of your feet. So anything you can do to avoid getting them wet can save you painful foot problems later on. I remembered that a few years ago I had hiked this side of La Plata with my mom and son Calvin. Rather than going through the mud bog willows, we had found a route that stayed dry up on the west side of the basin, and the bushwhacking wasn’t bad either. I saw a cabin and remembered taking a picture of Calvin by that cabin. So rather than following the trail I left it and found some pleasant, dry grassy slopes to walk up. I avoided the entire swamp, yahoo!
I continued up and on to a ridge, and then up the steep rocky slope that leads up to a false summit. It is a good thing I knew it was a false summit, because otherwise that would have been a demoralizing one!
I turned around, and to my surprise there was Wes. He had run all the way back down with the key, discovered that his father was gone, (he must have had a key) and then he ran all the way back up. He was not even breathing hard.
We reached the summit at 9:29 am, and immediately turned around, and started down the north side. Wes speculated that people following along on the website that knew about the bridge being out might be concerned that we were making a huge error…so it was going to be fun to surprise them with our sneaky plan to ferry across the river.
Surprisingly, we found an unexpected snowfield to descend. The conditions were perfect, and even Wes, who had never glissaded before had a fun time zooming down the snowfield on his butt. I think he understood why I felt that trying to set the record so early in the year did have some benefits…Unfortunately there were some other nice looking snowfields, but they didn’t go in the right direction. So we continued on down the trail. I tried to jog as much as I could, and I am not sure if it was a good idea because I was feeling ever step after pounding step in my joints.
At 11,000 feet Wes took my pack and started running in front of me. Normally this would be considered “pacing” but since we were out of the 3000 foot zone anything goes. We made it down to a creek crossing, and turned left to contour around to the road. Then we saw James hiking in to meet us. He told us that he had scrapped the kayak/raft idea in favor of a couple of ladders strapped together. Mental note, another desirable skill for a crew is the ability to build bridges.
Then we followed James along the trail, after joining the road he led us into the trees just before we were within sight of the bridge that was under construction. We reached the location where we would cross the river at about 11:40 am. The river was spectacular where we were going to cross. It was like a mini box canyon, with steep cliffs on either side. James had found a very narrow part that was just narrow enough to allow two ladders strapped together to reach both sides. My entire crew plus Steve and Betsy were on the other side ready to watch us come across. James gave a quick demo of how he wanted us to cross, and first Wes went across. I could see that Wes was pretty nervous, so he took it slow in an effort to keep the ladder from shaking around too much. Once he was across I followed him, and rather enjoyed the break from the constant pounding of the trail. The cool air rising up from the rapids below briefly reinvigorated my spirit, and it was fun to see Axel and Calvin on the other side. There was a pretty big crowd there to watch us cross, including the entire crew, there was also Wes’s dad and Steve and Betsy, some close friends of Kim and Andrea.
Axel and I hiked out to the road where the car was waiting, and slowly we all regrouped. I crawled into the van and Andrea started working on feet, and I tried to eat and drink as we drove towards the South Mt. Elbert Trailhead.
In the end, it may have been a little unnecessary to go to all the trouble to cross the river rather than just drop down the other side of La Plata. But it was a fun experience, overall it probably did not save any time.
Elbert: The Glorious Descent
It only took about 20 minutes to reach the lower South Mount Elbert Trailhead (we arrived at 12:23 pm). However, it was hot, and I needed some extra work done on my legs. Andrea taped up my feet, and I was trying out an ankle brace, as the sore left ankle was becoming a problem. The shin problem was not hurting anymore for some reason, but my knees, especially the right one was still pretty bad, I had left the wrap on my knee so long the previous day that the back of my knee had become chafed and that was creating a surprising amount of discomfort. Mom and Andrea took good care of me though.
I also had some new drugs to help with the breathing problems-including an inhaler. Natalie seemed to think that the cold I had started with had turned into a lung infection and that had led to exercise induced asthma. I never before appreciated what it would be like to have asthma, and now I think I have a pretty good idea of how bad that would suck.
I also tried a breath right strip to open up my nostrils, which was especially helpful for me. My nose is so crooked that I can barely breathe out of one side anyway, so I should probably use those strips more often.
It seemed like it was taking forever to get ready. When I finally got out of the van I felt like a robot. Everything was so stiff from the new tape, braces, and wraps that I felt very constricted and could barely move my joints.
I said goodbye to the crew after about 30 minutes in transition and hopped in Kim’s Jeep for the quick drive to the Upper Trailhead. Fortunately Kim and Steve knew where to go, because I tried to make them take a wrong turn!
Wes just couldn’t get enough of this 14er training, so he had signed on for one more peak. I was planning a big snow descent, so he brought along my extra ice ax and sled so that he could enjoy the glissade with me.
We left the trailhead at about 1:03 pm. So with the bridge crossing and long transition I was now about 3 hours behind. That was OK, it just meant that I wouldn’t be able to try out another plan I had hoped for to squeeze out a few more hours towards the 10 days barrier.
It just did not like the first part of this climb. It was hot, very hot, and flies were buzzing. The first part of the hike was totally dry. Not a drop of moisture anywhere. I was also extremely uncomfortable with the knee wrap and tape, etc. Wes and I weren’t talking much either, and I was starting to fall asleep. This had happened to me too often during the day, and I was in a mental rut as we passed a group of trail volunteers hard at work on the trail.
Wes must have noticed that my performance was lagging, because he tried to strike up a conversation. It worked because then we talked all the way up to the summit. Now that we were getting higher we were seeing a few snowfields, and it was now my practice to wipe of the dirty top layer of snow, grab a handful of snow, and slowly eat it while hiking. The only thing missing was some snow-cone flavoring.
I also laid down near any clean source of water coming out of the snow and drank as much as I could. I just couldn’t drink enough water.
We reached the summit of Elbert, the highest point in Colorado, at 3:37 pm. Now I was getting excited. I was hoping one of the west facing gullies that lead down from the summit of Elbert would be full of snow, since it was afternoon, I was hoping for good sliding conditions. We headed down the South Ridge for a short distance until I saw the gully we wanted. And yes it looked like a glorious descent. Unfortunately it would take some time to get there, as the snow didn’t start for a few hundred feet. When we reached the snow, it was a little intimidating at first because of how steep it was. Wes was definitely not feeling very confident, and asked me if I would like to go ahead. He would just hike down and meet up with the crew later.
I suggested it was a good time to learn, since he had the gear and a good snow field, and I hoped I was a good teacher. I would give him instructions, then slide down a ways, and then wait for him to try to follow my instructions to come down and join me. He mastered the self-arrest, which is important, but eventually felt bad because he thought he was slowing us down too much. For one thing, he was wearing shorts and his butt and legs were completely numb. So he asked me to go on ahead. I reluctantly decided to go, and made sure I gave him clear instructions on getting out once he found the road.
So on my own I continued sliding down the gully. The really good stuff only lasted a while longer, because then it became littered with rocks and pits. However, dodging rocks on my sore bum was still better than hiking down talus.
Eventually the snow ran out, and it was a short bushwhack down to the road. The plan had been for James to deliver my mountain bike up to this road for me to ride out, because I was already 3000 feet below the summit. I didn’t see the bike, and hoped that it was not on the road above where I had come out of the bushes.
So I hiked on down the road looking for and wondering where the bike was. Soon I was in a grumpy mood because I just didn’t see the bike, and I would have made quick work of the road with the bike. Soon Wes caught up to me again, as he was still moving quickly on the road. And we walked on down until we found the river crossing. James and Kim were waiting for us on the other side of the river crossing, and the only way across the raging torrent was a single little 3 inch diameter log. It was a little scary crossing it, and I imagine I teased James “Where is my bridge now?” It was 5:21 pm, and we were finally at the car.
The road from here on down totally sucked, and James had figured no one would want to ride down this road and hadn’t even really thought about getting the bike across the river crossing.
We reached the bottom of the extremely bumpy road, because James and Kim’s Jeep performed admirably, and then had to cross an even bigger river, although this was one the Jeep could handle, then we turned left and headed up to the North Half Moon Trailhead for the climb up Mt. Massive.
Massive: It’s Dark…Hence…Sleep Demons!
We pulled in to the North Half Moon Creek Trailhead at 5:42 pm. It took me too long to get ready again. My estimates for hiking time and driving time had been pretty accurate for the whole trip, but the one thing that I hadn’t expected was to spend so much time just getting going once we were at a new location.
We knew that I would get caught up on the mountain in the dark, so we had to add some extra gear for warmth and a headlamp, and replenish powder and drink a protein shake. Kim and James were both very helpful in laying out my options and then packing whatever I wanted.
The shoes I had worn on Mt. Elbert, the Hokas, were done. Permanently. The soles were peeling off and despite James attempting to super glue them they were just a lost cause. I knew there was going to be a bunch of snow so I decided to just wear my Salomon boots.
I said goodbye to Kim and James, and with Wes following behind we started to hike at 6:04 pm…for about two steps. I couldn’t walk in those shoes, at all. Within those two steps I could feel every bruise, bone, tendon, hair, and painful fleck of skin in my foot. So I immediately turned around and asked to try the Speedcross shoes. After putting them on I walked a little bit up the trail, but the right foot had a horrible bruise on the top (caused earlier by the Speedcross shoe) and on every step the shoe bent and compressed the bruise. That wasn’t going to work either. So James went back and grabbed my old road Hoka. I tried it on the right foot and it felt pretty good. So I continued up the trail with the Speedcross shoe on one foot and the Hoka on the other.
Wes and I continued up the trail through a nice forest. This part I remembered always drags on and on when you are coming back down, you just don’t remember how far you actually hike down here along the river. I was shocked to find a massive snowfield just before the turn to the right that begins the steep climb. We made the turn and continued up the steep, rocky, trail. I just wanted to get this mountain over with, and I just started counting every step: “One, two, three, four…one hundred and eleven, one hundred and twelve…one thousand two hundred and sixty four”. I didn’t want to stop, so I didn’t pause or change my pace. Just step after relentless step, hoping to get up this mountain as soon as possible.
We had to leave the trail as it was completely blocked by snowfields. Oh how I wished I could go faster. I wanted to slide down these snowfields but I feared I would be coming down after dark when the snow turned bulletproof.
Surprisingly, for the first time all day, I noticed that Wes was starting to fall back. This was surprising because he had been like a superman all day long. He had carrying my pack when allowed, had kept me awake by talking to me, patiently waited as I hacked out my lungs with grotesque sounds, and had been in a great mood the entire time. At first I didn’t think much of it, but then he said that he was afraid he would hold me back, and he decided to go down. I was sad to see him go, and thanked him for all his help. He offered to let me use his superlight carbon poles, as I had been complaining about the poles I had borrowed from James. Heavy poles that seemed to be made of the compressed matter of a neutron star…you know, where a teaspoon of the stuff weighs as much as earth. In contrast, you hardly even knew you were holding the light carbon poles. I warned Wes that I was developing a reputation of breaking every pole I touched on this trip, but he insisted that I take them.
I continued up and made it to the ridge south of Massive’s summit at 8:30 pm. This was a little depressing, because I thought I had been making good time, but I should have summited by now. And Massive was a lot farther up the ridge than I remembered. I had to cross a big snow field to go directly to the summit, and since I was now on the east side of Massive the snow was harder than it had been on the other side because this side had been in shade for a long time. On one step the pole broke through the crusty surface, and as I pulled it out it snapped in half! “$%@#$!”. I hated that I had just busted up such a beautiful pole!
I reached the top at 8:56 pm. It was getting dark fast so I pulled out my headlamp. It took an hour longer than expected to get up. I hoped that the snowfields would stay soft for a good descent, so I tried to descend quickly. It was no use though, by the time I started trying to slide down snow it was already rock hard, and the glissading was extremely unpleasant, as I had to self-arrest the entire glissade, the snowfields were also melted out in that pitted, rutted, golf ball like fashion that I had seen before, and my rear was felt pretty bruised up, so I tried sliding on my slide to take the pressure of the sore areas.. It was now completely dark, and the glissading exhausted my entire upper body.
When I ran out of snow, I was expecting to come upon the trail, but I couldn’t find it. I figured it must be close, and that I couldn’t go too wrong if I kept descending and stayed right. I knew that if I somehow missed the trail, it would mean trouble because without the trail I would find myself in some cliff-strewn bushwhacking down below.
I started falling asleep…blurred vision, can’t walk straight, etc. If you have read this far you know the routine. Somehow I hadn’t found the trail yet, but I just kept descending. This wasn’t what I expected, a wide open grassy slope. Where were all the rocks?
Then I found what appeared to be an old trail that had been made unusable by a trail crew. In order to dissuade future climbers from using the old trail, large rocks had been put on it. I figured this was a good sign because it would probably lead to the newer trail that I was looking for, so I continued down the grassy slopes. When I reached the trail I was confused. I was wondering why Calvin and Axel weren’t keeping up with me. “CALVIN!” I yelled, wondering where he was. Then I remembered, he wasn’t here. When I am going for the record I have to be careful to really move fast here! Wait a minute, I am going for the record! I better get moving.
“What a beautiful sculpture!” I stared down at it. I climbed up on a large rock and stared down at the beautiful sculpture that Kim had made. I stared and stared at it, then I realized it was a rock. “What I am doing standing up on this rock?” I took a few steps. “What a beautiful sculpture! I must get on a rock and look at it.” Staring. Staring. No I should really sit down and look at it. Maybe a little nap would be nice!” “Damn it, what am I doing?”, “Axel, where are you?” “Crap, I’ve got to get moving. Wait where is the trail? Why isn’t someone looking for me, I could get lost”. These were some of my hallucinations I was having as I tried to concentrate, stay on the trail, and continue moving down.
I was still in a daze as I made it to the bottom of the steep section and turned left to hike out the last couple of miles. I saw a headlamp in the distance, I made my way towards it and eventually found Kim, who was coming up to find me. We hiked down together, which lifted my spirits and helped pull me out of my slump, and finally reached the trailhead at 11:39pm. I had really fallen apart on Massive, taking much longer than expected.
Before I got in the car I saw Wes in his dad’s car, and can’t remember if I said goodbye. I found out later he had scraped his butt on the glissade coming down Elbert. The wound became infected and he ended up getting admitted to the hospital for 24 hours.
James drove down the road to where the van was waiting. I climbed in the van and fell asleep right away.