The Scariest Hike of My Life
“Please Mother…. Just wait! Wait a few minutes! I can see the trees! Pleaseee!! Please wait!!” I begged of her with tears streaming down my face.
With an upcoming trip to hike Mt. Whitney in California, the highest mountain in the lower 48, I wanted to get out on another 14er during my off-hitch to get some miles under my belt and get up to elevation. Exactly 5 years ago I came out to Colorado for the first time to lead an AmeriCorps NCCC crew based out of their Aurora office. My team’s first project was working with Habitat for Humanity of Teller County in Woodland Park and our housing was at a campground in Divide. Every day we got beautiful views of Pikes Peak, a pretty well known 14er that stands at 14,115ft. My team had talked about hiking it together, but when the day came, we couldn’t agree on the start time and we weren’t allowed to drive our team’s Ford Transit up to the top as a safety net. So, it never happened.
Flash forward to this week. I was planning to see my friend Kay in Green Mountain Falls on Saturday morning for a yoga class and then head to stay with my friends Neil and Nancy in Gunnison for a few nights after that. I didn’t want to go west to find a mountain to hike to then go east and west again, so I was looking for hikes close to Kay that I could use for training for Whitney. I immediately thought of Pikes Peak. I am in significantly better shape now than I was 5 years ago and I felt excited at the idea.
I checked AllTrails to see my route options. I could pay to drive the Pikes Peak highway and park at Devil’s Playground, but that was 5.3 miles out and back with 1,335 ft elevation gain. I wanted more than that and I didn’t want to have to pay the fee for the highway. Then I saw the Barr Trail which was 23.8 miles and 7,444 ft elevation gain. That felt like a bit more than I wanted. Pikes Peak via Crags Campground seemed like the perfect middle ground sitting pretty at 13.3 miles and 4,396 ft elevation gain. I decided that was the trail I would take. I downloaded the offline map, sent it to Kay to see if she was interested in joining me, and looked at camping options close by for the night before.
iOverlander had a campground, Crags Campground, marked right by the trailhead. But when I pulled into the campground at 8:30pm, I saw a lot of signage for the campground being a fee area of $25/night. Again, I didn’t want to pay in order to have this experience. I left the campground and circled back to the trailhead. There was a sign for parking, but no signs that indicated it as a “no camping” area. All along the road to the trailhead there were “no camping” signs posted as well as at other trailheads, so seeing that there were no such signs at this trailhead, I felt good about car camping there for the night. I started to get my pack ready for the morning as it started to rain. I got inside my car and continued to pack what I could while being inside and made a list of everything to pack in the morning when I could walk around my car and get to things with more ease. I put my window coverings up, changed into pajamas, set my alarm for 4:00am and did a bedtime meditation to calm my nerves and excitement of the next day.
I didn’t get good sleep as I heard other vehicles pulling in to camp for the night and others getting in at 2am and starting their day then, with lots of loud car doors opening and closing while parked right next to me. I let my alarm snooze until 4:15am, then I changed into my hiking clothes for the day, took down my window coverings, used the pit toilet, and started checking things off my packing list. I got water boiling in my jet boil and ground some beans for a coffee. Kay pulled in about 10 of 5 and I was so happy to see her! I was so excited that she would be joining me for a few hours in the morning before she had to go home to work for the day. Once I was finished packing and we were stepping foot on the trail, it was 5:11am. I started my Strava and was filled with excitement for the day.
I set out not caring if I reached the summit or not. Obviously, I thought it would be so cool if I got to share pictures of myself at the top and claim the day as my first successful 14er summit (I have attempted two other 14ers but had not reached their summit). But I am still recovering my Achilles tendonitis that I developed last summer while training for the Leadville Heavy Half. And the main goal was to get some good training for the Whitney hike, as I do care about reaching the summit on that trip.
I expected to average 2 miles per hour on the hike as that tends to be my average pace, especially on harder hikes, with the first mile or two being slower. My body takes a while to warm up and understand, “Oh, this is what we’re doing today.” I checked the forecast for Pikes Peak the day before and while on the hike which showed cloudy weather at 1 pm and no storms until 6pm. I felt confident in our 5am start time and felt good about my anticipated 2 mile per hour average.
Kay and I enjoyed our time as we hiked the first 2.3 miles together. She was excited as it was her first hike she's done that started in the dark. I have always liked getting started in the dark because it's a gentle ease into the day for me with the light of day slowly pouring over you through the trees. I noticed that I also enjoyed starting in the dark because it allowed me to focus on getting my body warmed up and not stop every other minute to look at a cute flower (Hiking has become slower since studying plants as I want to ID every new plant I see).
We crossed the log bridges and the creek in the beginning and slowly made our way up. We both noted that there was no ease into the hike, as it starts steep. I was more slow moving than Kay, but she was kind and stopped whenever I needed a break to slow down my breathing. I really enjoyed having her join me. There is something so special about girlhood, especially with those who just understand you. No explaining needed, just empathy and love. She motivated me in both quiet and direct ways. Quietly, she hiked up steep sections one swift step at a time, looking powerful and strong. I followed her lead, even when the voice inside my head said, “Jeez, this section is hard.” More directly, she encouraged me that I could make it to the top and gave me extra snacks for my journey ahead. She had to turn around and head back down to her car and we parted with a hug.
I continued up trail just a little and then sat down to take another break and eat the banana she had given me. I took my phone off airplane mode to check the forecast again. It was still showing clouds at 1pm and storms starting at 6pm. I texted Sean an update of the hike so far, said hello to some fellow hikers who passed me, and then started up trail again.
I felt I was slowing down without Kay in front of me to push me faster. But I was able to fall into a slow steady pace that had me stopping less. I know from many hikes out of the Grand Canyon that it doesn’t matter how slow you move, just that you keep moving. The momentum will carry you out.
Getting out of the treeline was hard. The trail is steep with switchbacks and I felt it would be impossible for me to reach the summit. I took breaks every couple of 100 ft of elevation gain to allow my lungs to adjust. Having exercise induced asthma doesn’t quite mix well with elevation, but hiking remains my favorite hobby. This steep section of tail felt like it would never end and I sang, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swim, swim. Just keep swimming…” in my head to distract from the difficulty and slowly keep pushing myself up the mountain. I slowly climbed up until I was eventually out of the trees.
The trail started to flatten out and I got a view of the summit. All of my doubts about summiting melted away. “I’ve got this! All the reviews said that was the hardest part of the hike, and now I can see the finish line!” I thought. I took in the views for just a minute before continuing on at a much faster pace with my freshened confidence.
I took little breaks to fuel up with some gels and electrolytes and felt physically and mentally good. I got to a visibly interesting part of the trail that cuts through a section of rock. I wanted to take a picture on my film camera, but hearing Neil’s advice in my head, “Don’t take the shot if it's not right; film is expensive,” I thought that the sun would hit the rock on the way back down the mountain, and decided to wait until then to take the shot. There were three ladies sitting just below the rocks and they cheered me on as they saw me coming up the trail. It lit me up and put a big smile on my face. They asked me if I had passed the group of guys they were waiting for and we talked about the trail for a minute. They encouraged me that I had passed the worst of it and was well on my way. They said they would see me at the top.
After that, it was just a little ways past to Devils Playground and the trail was easing to a gentle incline. Once I got there, I took a quick bathroom break and continued on my way. I thought about those that were driving up the peak as I hiked alongside the road. I felt immense gratitude to my body for its ability to hike up the mountain. I truly wouldn’t have been able to get through to where I was 5 years ago if my team did attempt it. This is also the hardest thing I’ve done in a year. After the Heavy Half, I focused on resting and taking short walks to aid in the healing of my tendonitis. This was a big day for me and I felt immense gratitude to all the versions of my past self throughout the last year that took my healing seriously. If I rushed back to big adventures like this too soon, I would have reinjured myself and not been able to be where I am today.
I passed a couple more sections of trail where the road and trail met. I took some breaks to fuel up and felt great about my chances of reaching the top. I started leap frogging with a group of three, one of which I got the vibe that he was a guide. Around 10:30am, some clouds formed over us and it started to hail. I sat and took a break and checked the forecast again. Still, it showed no storms anytime soon. The group of three passed me again, and I asked if they had done this before. The guide had said, “yeah, a few times. What about you?” “No, this is my first time. I’m trying to make a safety call for myself as to if I can keep moving forward or need to turn around with this hail.” “I checked the forecast when we were at treeline and it showed lightning at 3pm at treeline. So I’d say if you're down below treeline around 2:30, you should be good. We are continuing up because they will be taking the cog down, and then I’ll trailrun down. It’s up to how fast you can hike up and then back down to treeline. Turning around is never a bad idea. You could always hitchhike from one of the road meetings too; that’s pretty reliable here.”
I checked my Strava and saw that my pace was getting quicker than the 1 mile per hour rate I was going up the steep sections earlier in the hike. I had 4 hours until I needed to be below treeline, according to the forecast the guide had seen and I felt that I could make it in that time. I had another sip of electrolytes and started up again. I tried to take less breaks and push, as I didn’t want to be cutting it close. The trail did start to get steep again, but I knew that it was a matter of mental strength at this point. I pushed on and envisioned myself at the summit, taking a picture with the elevation sign. I noticed that I didn’t have as hard of a time breathing as I had earlier. I was at about 13,000 ft and celebrated when I reached 13,200 ft as that was the highest I’ve ever been. Previously my record was 13,185 ft on Mosquito Pass during the Heavy Half. Even if I didn't reach the summit, I felt proud of this accomplishment.
I pushed on for another 500 ft of pretty difficult elevation gain until I reached the base of the scramble. Wow. I was so excited and so proud of myself for getting here. I collapsed my trekking poles and stashed them into my pack. I put my pack back on and checked my phone to see what elevation I had reached. I was above 13,700ft. With a smile of pride and gratitude to my body, I put my phone back in my hip pocket and was ready to start scrambling.
Out of nowhere, it started to violently hail. I saw dark clouds but they were on the opposite side of the mountain from me. I stood there for a minute, as I was put it the mindset of making a safety decision. I was within less than 400 ft of elevation to the summit, but that meant getting higher than I was. I considered continuing up as the hail that hit before passed quickly. I started to sob. I got a gut feeling that continuing up wasn’t a smart decision. When I started the hike, I didn’t care about reaching the summit. But now that I was so close, my soul felt crushed at the idea of not being able to summit. I knew that if it wasn’t for the weather, I would make it. I stood another minute, with the emotions and my thoughts see-sawing about continuing up or turning around.
BOOM!! Boom! Boom! Thunder rumbled directly above me. My heart rate shot up. That was it for me. I took my pack off, took out my trekking poles, put my pack back on, and started back down the trail.
I continued to cry. Now both from the heartbreak of making the decision not to summit and from the fear of the storm. I calmed myself by thinking of the time I recently took a hard fall on a plot, as we were trying to finish sampling quickly before a thunderstorm got above us. Falling and getting injured wasn’t an option as it would make everything worse. I saw that the group of three had turned back as well and they were approaching the road. It looked like the guide had gotten someone to give his group a ride to the top, while he went back down the mountain on the trail. I felt good in my decision once seeing this.
I reached the road myself and had been debating asking someone for a ride. But I thought that I could continue at least for a bit more, so that’s what I did. After passing the road though, I kept double guessing myself. “Had I made the right decision? Would it have been smarter just to make it to the top? What if the storm gets worse and now I’m exposed?” I thought. I stopped and looked back at the peak. The storm still didn’t look bad and I didn’t see any lightning yet. “You made this decision, spending time wondering if it was right is not going to help. Just keep moving and ask for a ride at the next road crossing if you need too” I told myself.
But I couldn’t stop this back and forth debating in my head. I made the choice that felt best in the moment and I continued to remind myself of that. I made the choice I did because “I love my life more than I love summiting this mountain today.” I told myself this and others who I passed as they were on their way up. I told fellow hikers that I had thunder directly above me while hailing. That there was no lightning yet, but that I loved my life more than the risk of it and to make the decision that was the best for them. They all continued to keep hiking forward. I had to remind myself that I was not in a crew setting and that I was not responsible for anyone’s safety but my own. This is a challenge as I’ve led crews for 5 years now and am always considering the safety of those around me. But today, the only person I was responsible for was myself.
I tried to enjoy the hike down as much as I could in this anxious state. Lightening the mood for me was a pack of marmots sounding the alarm. They were scattered and all on top of rocks, shooting up and down, letting out their high pitched trills. They always bring a smile to my face and make me giggle and that was exactly what I needed. I stopped walking and just watched them for a minute. I was grateful for the humor they brought to my day.
They blend in well, but there are marmots in this photo!
As I approached each road crossing, I checked in with myself mentally and physically, and took a look at the clouds around me and how they were moving, and the time. I still had the 2:30 timeframe in my head and used that as a piece in decision making. At each road crossing and the parking lot for Devil’s Playground, I made the choice to keep hiking down.
My Achilles was feeling pretty good, the ball of my left foot was starting to feel a little strained but not too bad that I felt I needed to hitchhike. After passing Devil’s Playground it was 5 miles back to the trailhead. About half of this is exposed as its above treeline. After passing the parking lot and continuing down the trail, my thoughts started to see-saw again. “Should I have asked someone for a ride? No, the clouds don’t look too bad, its not hailing anymore, and you’ll be down to treeline in about 2.5 miles. Yeah, but what if the storm starts again? None of these people are going to be going down to Crags if they drove up to Devil’s Playground. You made your decision, now keep moving with it.”
I passed the section where the ladies had been cheering me on during my accent. I didn’t stop for a film picture. Although it was not storming above me anymore, there were still enough clouds in the sky to block sunlight from hitting the rocks the way I would have wanted. I saw dark heavy clouds, and knew that I needed to move with speed, but also make conscious steps so as to not fall and get hurt. Within 5 minutes, the wind started to pick up and I was freezing. I took my pack off and pulled out my sweatshirt and a cliff bar. I needed to warm up from a layer and from putting some “fuel in the furnace”. I ate small bites as I continued to walk, not wanting to waste time by sitting down. Just a few minutes later, it started to hail again. I put my half eaten cliff bar in my sweater pocket and set my focus on getting below treeline.
The storm picked up quickly. It was violently hailing and windy and thunder started to rumble around me. I started to feel panic take over my thoughts. “No, this is not the time. You need to stay calm. Take slow, steady steps. Take slow, steady breaths.” I said this out loud to myself over and over again as I made my way down the mountain.
I saw a lightning strike and counted until I heard the thunder. 4 seconds. That means that it was less than 1 mile away. Tears started to stream down my face. I know the power and might of Mother Nature and I know she is not to be questioned or messed with. But could she be begged, or reasoned with? “Please Mother…. Just wait! Wait a few minutes! I can see the trees! Pleaseee!! Please wait!!” I begged of her with tears streaming down my face.
I have never been more aware of the severity of a situation before. There was nowhere for me to take shelter. No caves I could see and nothing but exposed area with some large rocks. Nothing that looked large enough for me to take cover under. I had to just keep moving down the trail.
I continued to talk out loud to myself. Several times I started to cry again, and I forced myself to choke it back, knowing it was not going to keep me calm or safe. “You are not back to your car yet. You can cry when you get there. You need to stay calm. You need to take slow, steady steps. You need to take slow, steady breaths. Slow, steady steps. Slow, steady breaths.”
I lost the trail two times as it went over rocks and wasn't as obvious as it was when ascending. Each time, I worked quickly and consciously to find the trail again. I was soaking wet from the hail coming down and cold from the wind. I didn’t allow myself to think about this though.
But I couldn’t help thinking about Sean. Thinking about the future and the life we have dreamt up together. Whitney in two weeks, the Pan American in two years. I thought about what his life would look like if I didn’t make it out of this alive. Tears. Sobs so loud I imagine those up at Devil’s Playground must have been able to hear.
“No. You are making it out of this, You have too. Keep moving.”
Thunder continued to rumble above me as I got closer and closer to the trees. But it almost felt like a mirage, I got to the first tree and then it was open again. This continued to happen for at least 10 minutes. I had lost the trail a third time. As I was climbing down the upslope, I saw a hiker coming down the trail, also soaking wet and moving quickly. I said “Hello!” He said a quick “Hi” and kept moving. Clearly he hasn't been a part of a crew or ever taken into consideration the safety of anyone but himself. By the time I had taken about 10 more steps down to get back on the trail, he was completely out of sight. I took a deep breath, and continued to move.
I still wasn’t fully in the trees and the storm had not lightened up at all. “Slow, steady steps. Slow, steady breathes.” Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I got some good tree cover. As I got under a large tree and stopped for a second, I felt that I needed to pee now or else I would pee my pants. With a quick look around, I squatted right on the trail. This was the first time I had stopped moving since putting my sweatshirt on. The adrenaline paused as I felt a small bit of relief from cover of the trees. I decided to see if I could get an updated forecast to see if the storm was going to be passing soon, so I should take cover under the tree or if it was going to be going for awhile and to keep moving. Nothing would load. “Ughhh!” I called Sean. It rang a little and dropped. “Ughhhhh!” “I need you to call me” I texted. About 30 seconds later he calls. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Sean, I’m so scared! I’m so fucking scared!” “Whats going on?” I couldn’t keep it together anymore. I let all the tears out. Through deep sobs, I told him the situation I was in. He tried to calm me down and said to stay under the cover of the trees, feel safe in the fact that I wasn’t exposed anymore and wait out the storm. I was still sobbing. I knew I was safer and had to release the emotions I had been holding at bay while above treeline. Sean looked up the forecast and was able to see that it wasn’t going to be stopping anytime soon. In fact, it was going to be storming all night. He advised me to keep moving, taking solid steps and not stop until I got to the trailhead. I heard voices. From up trail I saw people coming. I told Sean I saw people and that I was going to join them down. He said to be safe and told me he loved me.
“Well this is fucking terrifying” I greeted the couple up trail. “Yeah, oh my god. We were basically running to get below treeline. We saw lighting and that really quickened us along.” “Yeah it felt like forever to get to the trees,” I said. “Can I please join you guys on your way down?” “Yeah of course!” “I will happily take caboose and just follow your lead.” And we moved quickly along.
After a minute, I introduced myself. “So, I’m Smokey.” “I’m Hannah” “I’m Zack” “Nice to meet you guys!” We moved down the trail while it continued to hail and thunder.
Zack took the lead, with Hannah following and me last in line. We moved with conscious steps and easy conversation getting to know one another. Hannah was kind and would look back to make sure I was still right there with them and point out any slick spot along the trail, asking if the speed we were moving was okay. Slowly, I started to feel better.
Being with others and having conversation to distract from the situation was a world of difference. When I was alone, I was having to keep myself in check emotionally and physically, which is an easy enough thing to do when you’re on a “normal” hike. But add in all the factors of the current situation, and it takes an extreme level of inner strength to muster up the ability to think clearly and make smart decisions for survival.
I learned that Hannah is from Montana and Zack is from Florida and they are both in the army in the springs. We talked about our shared love of hiking and gave each other recommendations on other trails and parks to check out. We shared the feeling of outrage over the recent attempts to sell off public land, highlighting that public land is for everyone and that they benefit us all from having green space to cleaner air. Zack and I shared the sentiment that we are in the west because of the vast amount of public land compared to the east coast where we are from.
They asked me a lot about myself and what I do for work. I enjoyed sharing with them my love for my job and how I ended up doing what I am now. I asked if the army has them do any silly little team builder activities like “highs, lows, buffalos” and they were intrigued to know what that was.
“Highs, lows, buffalos” is something you are familiar with if you are in my close circle. I got it from leading with the corps as it's a way to check in with your crew. The high is the best part of your day, the low is the worst part, and the buffalo is anything you feel like sharing; it can be something funny, an honorable mention, something weird, or just something noteworthy. I use this with my crews, but I also use it with friends, especially when I haven’t seen my friends for an extended length of time. It's a nice way to get a glimpse into their lives when living in long distance friendships.
Hannah and Zack said they really like that. They said they don’t do any debriefs that are fun like that, but they wish they did. They said their debriefs are much more straightforward and to the point of the work itself.
Hannah turned back to me, “So what are your highs, lows, and buffalos from today?” If I hadn't felt safe with them before, I sure did now. I shared that my high of the day was seeing them come down the trail. And that my low was 2 minutes before that. Really though, it was the whole time from when I turned around at the scramble until I saw them; being exposed during the storm was the most terrified I have ever been. I shared that my buffalo was how surprised I was at my sadness of not being able to summit. I told them I was using the hike as training for Whitney and that summiting didn’t have to be a part of that. But once I was so close, I wanted to reach the top so badly. Zack asked how close I was to the summit, and when I told him I was over 13,700 ft he mirrored my frustration with a deep sigh. “Oh man! You were so close!” “I know!!” "That's okay, you got the training in and will be ready for Whitney. Your body doesn’t know the difference between 13,700 and 14,100.” "Yeah, and I’m safe so that’s what really matters. I was just surprised at how sad I had felt to not summit.”
“Hannah, what's your highs, lows, and buffalos from today?” I asked. “My high is being back in CO and hiking. But my low was the beginning of the hike. I felt like my legs were dragging and like I wouldn't be able to do much of the hike.” Zach said, “Yeah I noticed that. You were really quiet this morning whereas normally you’re pretty talkative.” “Yeah, I had to focus all my energy on one foot in front of the other. But then I started to feel better and really enjoyed the hike. My buffalo is…” She paused while she reflected on the day. “Oh! We saw 3 big horn sheep cross the trail right in front of us on our way down!” “No way!” I said! Seeing wildlife is one of the best parts of hiking. “What are yours, Zach?” she asked.
“My high was being able to summit and feel strong while doing it rather than struggling like the first time I summited Pikes. I reached the peak once before but it was a real struggle to get up there. And today I didn’t feel that. I mean it was still really hard, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t feel like I was struggling with every step. My low would be how dizzy I felt on the scramble and up on the summit though.” “Yeah I was worried about you there for a bit.” Hannah echoed. “I’m feeling much better now though. The altitude just really messes with you. My buffalo is that I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to eat once we finish the hike.” Hannah laughed. Apparently he had been talking about this a lot on their hike before I joined them. “She won’t even know what it is,” Hannah said to Zach. “It’s a thing!” he said. Hannah turned to me, “Do you know what a snack wrap is?” “Yeah, it's a chicken wrap from McDonalds.” Zach was happy to hear I knew what it was. “Yeah! And its back!” Hannah and I looked at each other with a laugh and a headshake.
“Thanks for entertaining that.” They had no idea that that was special to me. “Yeah, thanks for sharing that with us! I really like it.” Hannah told me. “Do you do any other team building activities?” “We make a crew contract at the beginning of the season that we can come back too and change if needed. Every day we do little check-ins like “highs, lows, buffalos” or reviewing what went well on the plot. I also do one-on-one check-ins weekly and we set goals for personal and professional growth during the season that I check up with them on their progress.” They both agreed they wished they had more things like that in their jobs.
I was feeling much better by this point. I could still feel the anxiety and fear in my body, in my bones. But, I was no longer in danger and I was feeling the benefits of community. Not having to weather the storm alone.
“So what do you think Zack; are you going to go in?” Hannah asked. “I don’t know, I mean we are already wet from the storm” “Yeah that’s what I was thinking” she turned around to me. “We’ve been talking about getting in the creek after the hike all day.” I smiled because I had had the same thought when Kay and I hiked over the log bridges in the dark hours earlier. “I love a cold plunge. Especially after a hike” I didn’t feel interested though. I wanted to get out of my wet clothes, eat something as my belly rumbles started to mimic the thunder, and let Sean and Kay know I was safe.
We continued down the trail with easy conversation, talking about the experience of this hike and how it will make us stronger. We all agreed that we love outdoor recreation and our careers because they are made up of real struggles and overcoming them help us grow into stronger, more capable people.
We passed back over the log bridges and my body slowly relaxed as I knew I was getting closer and closer to dry clothes and a warm ramen. I packed my jet boil, spork, and ramen to enjoy on the summit. A mid-hike ramen has become one of my favorite parts of hiking lately. Obviously, I had not reached the summit, nor had the opportunity to stop for a food break on the way down. I was hungry, wet, and cold and now that I was no longer in imminent danger of a lightning strike, my thoughts were focused on comfort.
We reached the trail head and they discussed not cold plunging and instead getting into dry clothes and going to get food. I agreed with them, saying I can’t wait to make some food.
I thanked them again for letting me join them on the way down, telling them they have no idea how grateful I was for their kindness. They said they were happy to have me join. Hannah reached out her right hand for a hand shake, to which I was surprised. I haven’t been met with a handshake by people my age. I thought it was probably influenced by her military background. I shook her hand and Zach’s and said I hope they get home safely.
I got to my car, but saw that I was just shy of hitting 13 miles so I walked back and forth in the parking lot doing some dynamic stretches to hit 13. Then I set my pack down against my tire, took out a change of clothes from my car, and went to change in the pit toilet.
This gave me a little comfort. I then got out my jet boil and made 2 packs of ramen. I got my car together to leave once the soup was ready. I took it into the front seat with me and started to drive, looking to get service so I could text Sean and Kay. I got to Divide, parked at a grocery store, and let them know I was safe. I sat there for awhile, eating my ramen and trying to warm up. Having raynoides, it takes a while to regain warmth at the core after being wet and cold for hours. I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go at this point. I had been planning on car camping in the national forest nearby, but the radar and the sky continued to show storms all night. I really didn’t want to be camped out, listening to thunder all night, as my body would be distressed hearing that.
I told Kay I needed a comfortable bed and a hot soak to help calm my nerves. I looked up hotels in the area. The cheapest I could find was a room for over $200 in Manitou Springs. I really didn’t want to spend that kind of money for a room for one night as I am very financially conscious, but I felt this was a time when a hotel was more of a need than a want. So I booked it, and drove down to Manitou. I stopped at Walmart on my way, purchasing bath salts and bubble bath. I checked into the hotel and grabbed some things to bring into my room before it started to rain again. I then drove 1 minute down the street to pick up a very disappointing pizza, and drove back to the hotel. I grabbed my bleach wipes and did a thorough cleaning of the tub. I ran a hot bath and set myself up with the pizza, a cold seltzer water, and some calming music.
I slipped into the tub and for the first time since I was at the base of the scramble, I felt my nerves relax. I closed my eyes and said, “you are safe.” I laid in the tub, eyes closed, listening to the soft music, and reflected on the day. I still thought about if I made the right decisions along the trail, but knowing that I was alive and safe, I didn’t question it anymore. A crazy part of me let my mind consider attempting Pikes again in the following days. I shook the idea, telling myself to just be present in the moment of recovering.
I will return to Pikes with the goal of summiting, but this experience will always mean more than reaching the peak. I was challenged with a real struggle. The struggle of survival. I had to be focused and fierce in my determination to get back to my car safely. I had to find strength within myself to listen to my gut when my heart’s desires were louder. I had to take slow, steady steps and slow, steady breaths to quiet my anxiety and allow my logical thoughts to guide me through the storm.
Summiting a 14er takes great physical strength, but being within 400 feet of the summit and deciding to turn around for safety takes intellectual strength. And talking myself through the hike down while I was getting soaking wet from hail, freezing from the winds, and anxious from lightning less than a mile from me, took every ounce of my strength from physical, to mental, and emotional. I will look back on this experience when I am facing hardships as a reminder of what I am capable of. If I can survive this, I can survive anything.