Douglas, Heidi and I met at the Longs Peak Ranger Station parking lot at midnight Saturday to start our journey to the summit of Longs Peak. The vertical climb is 5100 feet to the summit of this 14er. We have been training this year by hiking and climbing. I have been hiking in the Poudre Canyon summiting some of the many ranked peaks there, but the hikes have been 8 or 9 miles long and the elevation gain was less than 3,000 feet. We also climbed Mount Elbert which is the tallest of the 14ers in Colorado. One of the big distinctions of Longs is that much of the climb is considered Class 3, requiring use of hands and feet to scramble along rocks. This demands concentration, care and keen sense of balance.
We hiked in the dark using headlamps to light the way through the pine trees. We crossed rushing streams that we could hear better than see. We switched back and forth winding our way up to treeline where the clear sky revealed stars without end. When we glanced back down the slope we started to see a parade of lights dancing through the trees below. Other hikers had started the climb as well. The city lights of metro Denver blazed from below providing a compass of sorts showing east instead of north.
With no sleep since sunrise on Saturday, the effects of the elevation gain are wearing me down. We stop for snacks along the way to stay nourished during this calorie burning trek. At about mile four, I'm feeling a little light headed. My 15 pound pack is starting to feel heavier than it should. At one of the breaks, I curl up on a foam pad and close my eyes, but sleep eludes me. After a few minutes of quiet, I rise and feel a little better. Faster hikers, those of muscle and youth, pass us up as we wish each other well.
The eastern sky lightens as we gain elevation. Instead of dark shadows, I can now make out sharper outlines of the peaks in front of us. The change in terrain is evident as the size of the rocks grow bigger and bigger. Instead of walking, we are now hopping from rock to rock balancing on the soles of our boots hoping that the rock we jumped on is stable and doesn't move. A trail sign announces that the "boulder field" is just ahead. Our dance across the rocks purposefully protects the fragile alpine plants.
With first light we can see tents of campers ahead in the midst of acres and acres of boulders. A structure ahead is the target for our dance line. The building is the site of the solar powered privy. The toilets are really just elevated toilets surrounded by a short fence for privacy. This rest stop is a welcome relief.
The "Keyhole" is the next landmark. Moving through this hole in the rock moves us from warm morning sunlight into the shade of the mountain. We travel along the back side of the mountain close to the base of the rock. The exposure and drop to our right is sharp and steep. Thousands of feet of drop. People have died along this stretch of rock. This is the start of the Class 3 scrambling. Painted markings dot the way winding steadily upward. We take turns leading the way finding the best rock for good footing and looking for hand holds as well. Some sections are crumbly and slippery. We try to avoid those areas as dangerous for our own safety as well as for those below us. Rocks spilling downward can be serious trouble. My progress is slower than Doug and Heidi and they relieve some of my burden by pulling some weight from my pack and adding it to their own. Thanks guys. Progress is slow but steady along the "Narrows". After what seemed like miles through the Narrows we turn into the Trough for an even steeper climb to the "Home Stretch". Every foot step and every hand grab requires attention up this steep section of the rock face. I'm not thinking about breathing at this point because we can see the summit point and the adrenaline kicks in. We made the summit by 10:00. This area is huge and flat and awesome. We remove our packs and celebrate with some snacks.
Heidi unfurls her Ostomy Awareness banner and celebrates her success. Doug upends himself with his traditional summit headstand. I sign in at the summit log and down we go to complete the climb in reverse order. Gravity helps, sometimes a little too much, on the climb down. We move on all fours down the rock facing outward for much of the sheer vertical drop. Where there is no rock protecting against a precipitous fall we turn and face the rock and climb down. There is much traffic on the climb today. We must wait our turn and allow others the chance to climb at their own pace. Doug reminds me that accidents most often happen during the euphoria of success and the rush to get back down. We move slowly and methodically down the sheer rock face.
Doug stopped along the boulder field to filter a new supply of ice cold water for the rest of the trip. The cool water is refreshing. The hike down is long. We're working on energy supplies that have dwindled.
We celebrate that the weather has been great all night and so far during the day, but we see clouds starting to fill the sky. As we near the tree line the clouds now dark with rain start to break loose and share the moisture with and on us. The rain is great, but the lightning storm that came along with it is near and loud and fierce. We hurry along the trail now sloshing through the muddy pathways and sliding on slick rocks. The lightning is scary. It is real and close. We continue quickly along the trail that eventually leads to the trail-head. Despite our rain jackets and pack covers we are drenched to the skin. The rain came in hard, cold, steady streams. Everything was shiny and wet. After changing into whatever dry clothes we had at the cars, we unceremoniously depart anxious to return home and rest our sleep deprived and weary bodies. It will take days before I can take in the literal enormity of this trip to the top of Longs Peak.
