August 7th, 2017

There are many dangers one encounters when they spend a significant amount of time in the mountains. The buffeting of winds while working along a large precipice, aggressive wildlife, exposure, BO mixed with patchouli, dehydration, unpredictable weather and so on. Some dangers are not as easily seen and others exist only in the mind. I have put off writing about this hike because I am wrestling with a common danger of the last type: snobbery. Last time I wrote about running a ridge even though I didn't really WANT to. Cry me a river. But it was a high point for two counties! Further condemnation. Do I really climb a mountain just because it has some title attached to it? Shudder.

So let's talk about Mt Elbert. It is also the county high point for Lake County, CO. And the high point for all of Colorado. And the highest point in the entire Rocky Mountains! The highest point in the whole stinkin' Mississippi River drainage!!! ARE WE EXCITED YET!?!! Well, no. Of all Mt Elbert's distinguished characteristics, interesting is not one of them. To me at least. I feel awful about it, but come on, look at this picture. It was the best picture I could get of the mountain.

Do I have reverse snobbery? Do I disdain the mountain because of its titles? I did once pass up the opportunity to climb Mt Whitney (with even more titles) for a number of reasons and opted instead for a summitless trek through the heart of the Sierras and never once regretted it. Or am I more garden variety snob who looks down on mountains that are not technically challenging. "Hmm, I suppose that may be fun for you simple hikers, but not something I would find exciting." You see snobs of this sort in almost any outdoor pursuit, but I have noticed it is pervasive to some degree in hiking and climbing, and here I am in the thick of it.

Since this is turning into a confessional I should put something else out there. I never summited Kings Peak. Since we are talking about boring, high points it seems like the right time to do it. I was wrapping around the side of it, and then about ten feet from the summit my buddy and I thought South Kings Peak looked taller. We couldn’t remember if Kings Peak was the north or the south one (we probably didn’t have a map, because … um, not our style at the time?), so we ditched the proper summit and took the ridge over to South Kings Peak, which turns out to be about twenty feet shorter. While on that summit, some scouts made the top of Kings Peak and started hooting and hollering about it. We used our eye levels and realized our mistake. Oops. I don’t think I have ever regretted that one either, although I haven’t admitted it openly before now. But I think my point is made that even so close to the summit I didn’t even realize it was the top of the mountain, let alone the highest point in Utah.

Kings Peak. Somewhere up there.

I need to step back and make some things clear. I was in no way coerced to climb Mt Elbert. I jumped at the opportunity when offered and was excited. I would have been excited to get out in the mountains of Colorado anywhere, even if a summit wasn't involved. Given the limitations of time, location, and weather Mt Elbert was a great choice.

But the mountains know me best and once I put my foot to the trail they knew. I might have put it to the back of my mind, but the seed was there that Mt Elbert was not interesting, impressive, or whatever enough. So I hiked and got drilled with questions. Why don’t you like this mountain? Why are you climbing it then? Why? Why? I write most of this now in an effort to be truthful about my experience, even though I’m not proud of it. Fortunately this was not a solo adventure, so I attempted to distract myself from what was pressing on my soul by talking. I talked and talked and talked. I was like a nervous middle schooler trying to impress his high school friends. I’m not usually one for talking, especially while hiking where I love to retreat inward and have these conversations with the mountains.

I am obviously not comfortable with these ideas. I skated around it a bit with my last hike. I avoided writing about it this time for a month. So yeah, I guess you could say I am in full existential crisis mode.

Breath. Relax.

I’ll put the paper bag down and tell you how it went down.

Do tell...

I had a blast. Great early start with an overly cautious Jeep driver, some trailhead/campground psycho’s, cool weather with a strong possibility of storms coming, and minimal crowds on a Monday morning. The trail was a no nonsense affair that cut straight up the mountain, without being overbearing. The surrounding mountains were beautiful and it was a joy to be out there hiking. Some friendly folks on the summit and since there is no dramatic edge at the top, I nailed a head stand for my summit pose instead of the traditional legs in the air.

I just love the mountains. I love being in the mountains. My head got wrapped around these why questions and it blurred my vision from what I knew all along. Long, long ago I came to this realization about skiing. Any day skiing is better than a day not skiing. I am heading into our second season at Utah’s smallest ski hill, but it’s still skiing and it’s great. Any day climbing mountains is better than a day not climbing mountains. With so many mountains to choose from where I live now I may still have to consider why pick one over another, but in the end I need to realize I would be happy to have the opportunity to spend time with either mountain.

Mt. Elbert showed me a great time and on the way down, just before the final really steep part of the trail we ran into a trail crew. They had spent the last ten weeks creating a new trail that would be “way more mellow.” Today was the last day the old trail would be open. So if I ever happen to meet someone else who just climbed the East Ridge, I can let them know I did it before the trail was easy. Because, come on, we all can be a little snobby sometimes, right?