Sunday, October 14, 2018

14'er #1: Pikes Peak


Drained. Torrey and I have been visiting Colorado on the third weekend of August every year since 2014, and this year was no exception. We met in Manitou Springs for the Pikes Peak Marathon and Ascent, and also began this year's week of mountain hiking at Pikes Peak, on the trail to the mountain's summit. Last year Torrey and I decided to accomplish personal goals of hiking all of Colorado's 14,000 foot mountains, and we had six peaks on our list to hit this year, weather permitting. We had a tag-a-long on this trip as well, my new little orange adventure kitten, Hoodoo! Yeah, we were planning on hiking six 14,000 foot mountains in five days, with a cat. As far as 14ers go, however, Pikes Peak might not have been the best one to start with.


We were up and on the trail way before it was socially acceptable to even be awake, hiking our first hour in the dark with only our headlamps lighting the way. A small handfull of other hikers were on the trail with us, both ahead and behind, and we leap-frogged each other for a while in the dark. It took a few miles before we settled into a comfortable pace, but eventually the miles seemed to melt by as dawn broke around us.


Hoodoo was fidgety on my shoulder, not quite sure what to make of the whole hiking business as we moved through the forest. He startled a bit every time a squirrel chattered at us, and stared over my pack at a doe and fawn who watched us from the side of the trail. He wanted down every so often and we would stop to let him, but he never wanted to stay on the ground long. I think both he and I were more comfortable with him on my shoulder for our first hike together. He paid close attention to everything around us, and I'm sure his kitten brain was busy figuring out exactly what was going on around him.


It wasn't until after our halfway point to the summit, where we stopped for a breakfast of hot oatmeal and cold mountain water, that I began to think maybe I'd bitten off more than I could chew. Torrey had hiked the trail several times before on her runs, but it was my first time, and I was exhausted by the time we hit treeline. Still three miles and a couple thousand vertical feet below the summit, I began to stop for rests more often, becoming shorter of breath and light headed. I knew the signs of altitude sickness, but was determined to push through, so long as I didn't become nauseous. Torrey and I sat down and had a serious discussion about whether we should push for the summit or turn around. We were not looking forward to hiking back down (remember, the summit is technically only halfway - we had to go down too), and the weather was a concern. Fortunately, Pikes Peak is one of two 14ers with a road all the way to the top, and in the end Torrey and I decided to head for the summit and wish on a star that we could hitch a ride to our car. 


The last three miles were some of the worst I've ever hiked. I was so tired my body was trying to fall asleep while still putting one foot in front of the other, and my light-headedness morphed into a pounding headache. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open and my feet moving forward, and I knew better than to try to look ahead for the summit; I'd only disappoint myself. Finally, finally, after thirteen miles and over ten hours, Torrey, Hoodoo, and I summited Pikes Peak. As we enjoyed the endorphine rush of summitting we ate salty fries and a cold drink from the summit house and happened to strike up a conversation with a couple of fellow hikers who we'd been leap-frogging all the way up. Turns out they had a ride waiting for them, and they offered us a ride down the mountain as well. We gratefully accepted and made small talk on the twenty mile drive back to Manitou Springs, where they dropped us off at our car with a wave and a wish for luck on the rest of our summit attempts. As we unloaded into the car, I couldn't help but admire the ultra runners who are insane enough to run up Pikes Peak every August in exchange for a shiny medal and a jacket. Having now hiked it myself, I don't think I ever want to do so again.


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