fourteener

If you live in Colorado then you know what a fourteener is.

In mountaineering terminology a fourteener is a mountain that exceeds 14,000 feet  above sea level. The importance of fourteeners is greatest in Colorado, which has the majority of such peaks in North America. Climbing all of Colorado's fourteeners is a popular pastime among peak baggers; another popular target is climbing all of the fourteeners in the contiguous US. Thanks for the definition, Wikipedia.

We like slow, sustained agony with a view, is another way to say that.

On Saturday we woke up early, met Grandaddy at the bagel shop and piled in his truck to drive to Silverton. We then drove up up up on some of gnarliest 4WD roads that you can imagine and found ourselves, much later, in a bowl of peaks that will drop you to your knees in awe.

And we hiked. All of us. Steadily upward, and the altitude doesn't do you any favors.

About half way up Max decided he was done. We were fine with that, as you don't want to sour someone on something as miraculous as this. He hiked back down, napped, and played with marmots while we kept on keeping on. The scenery is epic and the trail stretches above you, seemingly a lifetime of switch backs. It's hard to imagine the top, from the bottom. 

Lewis and Della never wavered. Lewis basically scampered up the whole thing. Della and her short, seven year old legs, gave out near the top. (and that's a dubious phrase when you've been climbing for three and half hours and have passed three false summits only to see two hundred more vertical yards before the top) She would just collapse. She'd sit there for a minute, too tired to whine, and then trudge some more. Collapse, trudge, repeat. But no complaining. I suggested she stop and wait for us. No go.

She summitted a bit ahead of me, in a final burst of "I Know I Can" heroics and I was maniacally, telepathically communicating with the small group of folks at the top.

'You better cheer like hell when she gets there, you sorry sons of bitches!'
(my patience as thin as the air, apparently)
(it is a good thing that I do a certain percentage of my communication via mental messaging and the evil eye) 

They let out a feeble cheer and I cut everyone some slack because I was short of breath myself and I'm not really queen of the world...although I was feeling that way. 

So would you. 

Check out the views.

Passed this lake about half way up. If the sun had been out, we'd have been swimming.

 You can just barely see the trail... short switchbacks just below the lake head in both directions.

 Almost there.

 At the top, with the lake in the background. FYI, our fuel of choice was Snicker's bars, complements of Grandaddy. We aren't high-end hikers...sneakers and snickers got us up.

 Could they be related? Ya think?!

 

Della with her preferred hiking partner. 

One of the best parts of an epic hike is the license to eat a horse afterwards.

You are starving and have earned it.

We went here.

Then home and to bed.

The end.

(thanx john!)

(I always like to remind you...this land is your land...like the song says...it's one of the reasons I love the west...come do some tromping.)