Wordless Wednesday

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DeCaLiBro

6 September 2004

I'm having an incredibly good year. I got my first winter 14er in January, in spite of being grounded by my doctor for persistent knee problems. I summited "The Mountain of My Fear" in June. I got my first double bagger, two 14ers in one day, last month. And now I've done four 14ers in a day, the very same peaks that eluded me last year in a white out. In accomplishing this magnificent (for me) fete, I also surpassed my goal of ten peaks this year. I just bagged number 11 for the year, and there are still three more months to go!

We left Denver at 4 a.m. Monday, hoping to beat the Labor Day crowd. But Monday was the best climbing day of the three-day weekend, and lots of folks had the same idea we did. Of course, it probably didn't help that I picked one of the most popular 14er day hikes in the state.

Labor Day this year would mark my fifth annual consecutive 14er climb on this very weekend. I wanted to climb five peaks in a day, but the day was so wonderful, four will do.

Kite Lake Road seemed to be in better shape this year than last Labor Day. I didn't have to put my 4Runner into four-wheel drive to reach the lake. Some of the peaks seemed to have a bluish glow as we began our ascent of Democrat via the standard route, and we traversed sections of fresh snow, but the amount of snowfall on the peaks was not truly evident until the rising sun painted orange slivers atop Buckskin and Democrat. By the time the sunlight spilled down the west face to meet us, sparkles abounded in the powder and rime.

The route up Democrat was a regular highway, with splinter bands of a youth group racing each other up the mountain in a battle to be first on the summit. By the end of the day, of course, no one was rushing to the top of Bross. Hikers were slowly making their way both over Cameron and around Cameron with no apparent shot clock spurring their progress.

Climbing Democrat was special for me because it was the first time I'd really seen the mountain, even though I've already climbed it twice. It was the first time I was able to soak up the view of surrounding peaks, with crystal blue skies strikingly setting off the white tipped peaks to the south and west.

Descending Democrat was a bit of a chore. Those heavenly white sparkles that had magically transformed the morning's work into a crystalline fantasy were now slippery rocks and patches of ice just waiting to send off-guard hikers tumbling.

Climbing Cameron was much more work than I had anticipated, knowing it is not an official peak. It may not have a big enough drop in the Lincoln saddle, but it more than makes up for the shortfall on the Democrat side. Cameron seemed to go on and on and on forever. Feathers of windblown ice along the west-facing rocks were about the only saving grace.

Cameron's summit felt like the moon, flat and bare. Lincoln loomed on the skyline and looked daunting after the just-completed ascent. We crossed a small snowfield to traverse the saddle, and Lincoln was actually fun. I took the higher trail atop the dull knife-edge ridge on both the ascent and the descent and thoroughly enjoyed the mild altitude bumps as well as the breathtaking views down both sides. There were several more patches of snow to cross on the west side of the ridge, but I avoided them by staying on top of the sun-baked ridge.

Prayer flags on the western slopes of Lincoln caught my camera's eye while The Lizard searched for a space on the filled register to sign our names. We then enjoyed a quick lunch and basked in the glow of my first three peaks in a day. These are easy peaks, but snow and ice bump up the level of difficulty just a tad.

The huge summit of Bross also was like being on the moon. Snow and ice had melted everywhere the sun shined, and the temperature was actually warm and comfortable. Now began the worst part of the day, the ankle-twisting, rocks galore in your shoes, scree descent. I HATED going down Bross. If I ever do those peaks again, I'd rather reclimb Cameron or come down on the four-wheel drive road and hike all the way around the mountain back to my car than slide down the dirt and rocks again. Yuck!

We'd planned to tackle Buckskin next, but the hour was growing late, so we slurped a chilled Berry Blue SoBe, munched on mint Oreos and admired the orange, yellow and gold aspens tucked neatly in almost every stand along the two-hour US 285 trip north.

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Mount Democrat

30 August 2003

Rain fell all night. I kept wondering if maybe I shouldn’t try to hike today. I knew it would be snowing up high. But I had no way to contact my hiking partner, who was coming in from Utah to bag peaks all weekend.

At the trailhead, fog was dense. The air was full of hair-curling moisture. My bangs were all over the place and dripping, too.

The summit was a bit chilly. The kind of cold that prevents you from signing registers because taking your gloves off hurts.

We kept losing the trail on the way up. Just before we reached the saddle, two more hikers, Mike and Doug, caught up to us. This was exceptionally cool for me because I was now hiking with guys named Mike, Doug and John. Only Larry was missing. The remarkable coincidence ignited so many precious memories of hiking Marble Canyon with all four of my brothers when we were just wee kids. I wish I'd had my Nikon back then. Oh, the pictures I would have!

There indeed was snow on Democrat, and snow was falling again before we left the summit. There was no view whatsoever. One of the reasons I climb is to see the view. The hike was one of the easiest I’ve ever done. The snow made it just a little bit more work than, say, Grays and Torreys. The hardest part of the entire hike was trying to keep from getting blown off the summit. When we were on the side of the ridge that sheltered us from the wind, I did fine. But when we got up in the wind, ooh, baby, was it cold!

This summit counts as winter, right?

On the way down, I was feeling somewhat discouraged because I’ve had this hike planned for months, and if I’d waited until Monday to do it, as planned, the weather would have been fine, and I would have bagged all four peaks... Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln and Bross, or the DeCaLiBro, as the quad is affectionately known. I would have used lots of film. I would have been a happy camper.

My hiking partner, unfortunately, refused any hint of flexibility, even though he had more free days to climb than I had. He insisted I change my schedule to accommodate him, even though I provided the four-wheel-drive to get us to the trailhead. He thinks religion stinks, he hates the Olympics, and he wasted no time making his thoughts well known on just about everything I like. He seems to hate people in general, especially cheery people.

On the way down from Kite Lake, I stopped to give another motorist a jump. My hiking partner said he’d take care of the details, as it was raining. The gentlemanly thing to do.

Well, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t figure out how to unlatch my hood. So I had to get out of the car and do it myself. I got back in the car and gave it gas while the other motorist tried to start his car. When his car started, my hiking partner gave me a thumb’s up and got back in my car without helping the other motorist detach the jumper cables!!! I couldn’t believe it! I mentioned he hadn’t closed the hood, and he sat there and grinned. “Oh, you’re right. I didn’t, did I?”

The rudest thing of all was when he stuck his hand into my homemade cranberry trail mix without asking! He just grabbed a heaping handful, more than half! I was walking way behind him. He stopped, stuck his hand in my bag and just started eating, as if that was acceptable behavior.

So, maybe the wind on the saddle really was NOT the worst part of my day…

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