Disgruntled. Evans was supposed to be our easiest hike of the week. I deliberately planned Evans' hike for the day after Grays/Torreys, figuring we'd be sore and tired from hiking four 14'ers in three days, wanting to give us a bit of a rest before pushing through the final hike. We even allowed ourselves to sleep in till dawn, knowing the trail would be the shortest of the week. The morning started out promising, with cold but clear skies as we drove up Evans' road to the trailhead parking lot. Once we got there though, dark clouds swirled on the horizon, racing towards us with the promise of bad weather. Torrey and I opted to wait it out, not particularly wanting to get caught in a storm considering we were well above treeline, watching a few other hikers gather their gear and begin the trail ahead of us. We were relieved we waited when the clouds finally reached us and not rain but snow whipped around our car, the force of the wind rattling the frame. Visibility receeded and soon we were engulfed in white and wind, the mountain in front of us obscured.
The mini blizzard didn't last, scurrying off to wreck havoc on other unfortuante mountains, and blue skies returned. The temperature stayed below freezing, though, and we shivered as we piled on as many layers as we could before leaving the warmth of the car. I went to zip Hoodoo up into my jacket but he was having none of that, instead climbing up until he was situated on his perch at my right. The trail began easy enough, though soon we were scrambling up boulders using our hands just as much as our feet to keep our balance. Hoodoo was a downright champ, refusing to stay on my shoulder and choosing to boulder hop like he was born to do it. We walked through silence broken only by the wind, the air so cold it glittered, suspended ice crystals flashing reflected sunlight like a million mirrors. Even Hoodoo kept mostly quiet, though he was the most talkative of our trio, his little meeps and meows subdued under the morning sun.
The hike was not kind to us. Despite a relatively okay beginninig, once we began gaining elevation in earnest I lost speed, becoming quickly fatigued wiht trying to keep my balance between the wind and the shifting scree. This trail had a lot bigger rocks to climb over than the previous mountains, and I was absolutely sick of bending over to use my hands for purchase on the icy rocks. I became sullen and allowed distance to grow between Torrey and I, not wanting to slow her down but knowing I couldn't push my body enough to keep up. I became lost in my own head, grumpy with the rocks under my hands and the sun in my eyes, keeping enough awarness to watch my next step and make sure Hoodoo was still with me.
Despite the lesser distance, the trail seemed to go on forever. Just when I thought we surely had to be near the summit, I would catch sight of another carin marking the nearly non-exsistent trail, then another, and yet another further on, and I knew I should just give up guessing when we'd reach the top. It wasn't until I saw the summit road twisting on the shoulder of the mountain below me that I knew we were close. A scramble, then we set foot on the tourist summit trail and walked a few hundred feet to the top. We lingered there longer than we had at every other summit besides Pikes, taking pictures and chatting with anyone who spotted my cat, though I was eager to be off the mountain. Torrey and I decided to forgo the trail back and road walk to the parking lot instead. We'd be adding miles to our hike, but at least the miles would be on solid concrete instead of loose, shifting boulders. We were grumpy enough with the hike that walking along a road filled with crowds of people and vehicles actually sounded like the better option.
We hadn't walked far below the summit before some kind souls pulled over and offered us a ride. We piled into the warmth of their SUV and made small talk, describing our week of mountain climbing and kitten loving while they told us of their visits to the mountain from where they lived in Denver. Hoodoo passed out on my lap within a minute of sitting down, and we all cooed over his little tounge peeking out of his mouth while he slept. The ride down was infinetly better than walking down, and before we knew it we were dropped off at our car with well wishes for the rest of our travels and gratitued from us for the ride. I mused that we were probably getting spoiled, catching rides down from two summits in one week, though our options for getting rides down from the rest of the 14'ers is zilch. Was it cheating, driving down insead of hiking? Probably. Did we care at the time? No. Do I care now? Definitely not. We'll take whatever advantage we can get when it comes to hiking mountains. Besides, we have fifty-two other mountains left to learn how to use our own feet on the descent. I do know one thing though: I will not be returning to Mt. Evans at any time in the foreseeable future.
Read about the first four 14'ers here:
Pikes Peak
Quandary Peak
Grays and Torreys Peaks
Interested in learning more about Hoodoo? Read about how I got him and chose him as my adventure partner here.
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