Mt. Elbert
(14,433 ft.)
07-31-05

For our second fourteener of the summer we chose Mt. Elbert, Colorado’s tallest peak, and one of the easier fourteeners to summit.

My dad and I woke up at 2:30 AM, tossed our gear into the van, and drove to Dan’s house. Dan accompanied us on our trip up Gray’s and Torrey’s Peaks last summer.















On the 2.5+ hour drive, I dozed and listened to a book on CD (Lies, and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: a Fair and Balanced Look at the Right, by Al Franken—awesome book, by the way). We had a great view of Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive from the highway right as the sun was beginning to rise. At 6:00 AM we started down the trail. The hike was nice and easy at first, if a little cold. A couple hours later we left the treeline and had some great views of nearby fourteeners, including Mt. Massive.














(Dad and Dan, with false summit #1 in the background)
I have nicknamed Mt. Elbert “the Mountain of Vile Deception and Trickery.” Elbert has at least two false summits. Just when I thought, “There’s the top! I can see it! We’re so close!” I realized that we still had a long way to go. Dan attempted to snowshoe up Elbert last year. A few hundred feet from the summit, he and his group had to turn back because the trail became impassable without crampons and ice axes. Because of his last attempt, Dan was able to warn us about the false summits. Even knowing that there were false summits didn’t help me much because I was still fooled by them.





























(High-altitude insects bothered us most of the hike. They seemed content
to fly into our ears and nostrils instead of actually biting us, oddly.)














About a mile from the summit we noticed that clouds were rolling in. They did not look especially evil until we were half a mile from the summit and they turned an evil black and coalesced in a decidedly evil manner (oh yes, very evil). Dan, with his altimeter / barometer watch, didn’t think that the clouds would pose much of a lightning danger for at least another hour, so we continued on.















(Noon on the summit with evil clouds)
I was not convinced that we were going to be safe, so I ran on ahead of them. That last sentence sounded a little odd, so let me clarify: Since the trail was very steep at this point, Dan and my Dad had to stop often to rest. I was much faster than they were and desperate to summit, so I went on ahead. I pushed on and summitted about 20 minutes ahead of them. The clouds continued to build as I waited. Finally, they both made it up, we rested for a few minutes, took some photos, then headed back down.














(the actual summit)














La Plata's distinctive side seen from Elbert's summit

As always, we made excellent time on the way down. We rested in a shady area immediately inside the treeline and ate lunch. A few birds watched us as we ate, and one even ate out of Dan’s hand. The rest of the trip down is a blur of intense pain. My left leg did not want to keep going, so it often decided that it would stop for a rest while the rest of my body continued on. Of course, this was a bit of a problem. Without the aid of trekking poles to support me I would have fallen face-first a dozen times.














(Dad and I on the summit)
An important note: As any mountaineer—or even a casual hiker—knows, water is the remedy for many ailments while on the trail. Headache?—drink some water. Blurry vision?—drink some water. Falling down a crevasse?—drink some water (then get help). Water also prevents all of the aforementioned ailments, excluding falling down a crevasse, obviously, so I always drink as much as I can while on the trail. Unfortunately, that means that I have to go to the bathroom very often. “Find a tree” is a favorite suggestion of my Dad’s. Finding trees is quite easy while still in the treeline, but rocks give very little cover above the treeline. At one point I had to go so bad that I didn’t care if an entire troop of Girl scouts passed by.

Another note (of less importance): Dan and my Dad always use trekking poles when they hike. I used to think that using poles was a sign of weakness—like an old man having to rely on a cane or a walker to move around. During recent hikes, however, I have seen numerous twenty / thirty year olds using poles, so I thought that I would give them a try. Trekking poles can cost anywhere from $50 to $200 per pair, depending on how small they can telescope and the number of features they offer. I bought a $15 pair of ski-poles on sale at REI in March for our snowshoe trip up Quandary, and they work very well—even if they can’t collapse for easy storage. The poles help transfer some of the strain off my legs to my arms and shoulders. They were particularly useful on the way down from the summit; I would have fallen multiple times without their support. Poles are also great for poking things. I poked rocks, shrubs, odd-looking objects along the trail, and my Dad (to signal that break time was over). I will never do another fourteener without my poles.