14,200 feet of beauty - who needs to fly when you've climbed that high?
Aspen is getting to be a little while ago, so I'm going to make this my last Aspen blog entry before I get onto new things, but this was sooooooooo important to me. It changed my whole life in that way where you are just impacted by it, and you know you'll see things differently from then on, and you know that you will always be even that much more happier because you experienced it. I am so thankful for this world...
- - - - -
I hiked/climbed up to 14,200 feet today, starting with a moonlight hike at 4:45am. Went with two wonderful people, Bill (who I went to college with) and Bryce. Just two great people stoked to hike Castle Peak. We each got up at about 3:15am, met at my place at 3:45 and headed to the trailhead. We took Castle Creek road the 12 miles past Ashcroft (a ghost town) to where the trailhead was. There's a road that you can 4-wheel up to 12,800 feet, but of course, in an Acura, we went only about a mile. It's totally dark outside, and 4:45am.
Headlamps strapped on (but off, see, it was a full moon, need I say more about the greatness of that?) and we park near the entrance of a campsite. We start on our way and Bryce's car alarm goes off, which is all too funny to us considering we're 14 miles from the neareast town, out in the boonies, and parked right next to someone's campsite. Bryce turns it off and fixes it so the tilt sensor (he was parked at a tilt, yes) was deactiviated. Much grinning and laughing about that! I can't believe at this point that I'm hiking in the woods in the dark, albeit with 2 other people thank goodness. The rocky mountain faces look incredible in the moonlight and we can even see a waterfall coming down from perhaps 12,000 feet up. We are currently at about...9,800 feet? I hiked with a big smile. Soon enough the eastern sky started to turn light blue - the light was so amazing, everything cast blue, and the air so cold but it felt so good when hiking up and up and up.
Then, story number two: Bryce's contact just falls out while he's taking a picture so that he could see out of pretty much only one eye. Bill suggests they look for it - I personally think they are crazy, it's a contact for god's sake and it's the rocky mountains! But - yeah, they find it! Pretty quickly too, in the dirt and foliage. What?? Crazy - but great.
So, ha, he gets his contact back in and we hike on. We soon enough hit out 2nd landmark (1st being a water crossing) which is where the road forks to Pearl Pass and Castle Peak. This is 11,200 feet. Those wooden signs that you find indicating direction on a trail deep in the woods - they're great, they're so earthy and rustic and helpful and make you feel special that you've seen it.
So we continue - tree line is definitely approaching and we bid farewell, literally out loud, to the trees and head up. Looking down every now and then we see that the sun is starting to shine into the mountain valled below, and onto the peaks above us that we are likely to climb.
Oh goodness and the best parts are only to come, but - I am soooooo tired. And I mean that. I think I pretty much have to go to bed right now. I want to preserve this day SO badly but hopefully I will be able to describe it well tomorrow.
Wait - maybe I will try to honestly be brief and elaborate only on what needs to be elaborated upon.
Okay - this is a blog entry. Brevity may be appreciated.
Okay - so we get to 12,800 feet and snack. Take silly pictures, laugh lots, and stare up in disbelief at the climb we have ahead. Another 1,400 feet of bouldering and scrambling until we get to the peak, which we can finally see.
Okay folks, all I can tell you is that I honestly thought I might die or become seriously injured. The bouldering was iffy but didn't suggest death. All of the hiking from 12,800 up was on rocks, some smaller or bigger than other, some more solid than others, but it was rock, you got used to sliding a lot. The last 400 feet were half rock climbing and have scrambling up moist, loose soil and scree with a nice 1,000 foot drop to journey if you lost your footing, which was very, very easy to do. Funny how your thoughts go nearly blank while also extremely deep at the same time. Survival mode, where you MUST just DO. But what would stop me in my tracks was the realization (at least to me) that my life could end. What do you do with that? Evidently, you keep climbing. If you go back down then you lose the pack, they go on without you, and then you're completely alone while still feeling entirely vulnerable. You want to get to the top but sense tells you you're not supposed to be here. Maybe that's a large part of it - being there where you're not "supposed" to be - or rather, as I guess I've realized before, where there is no supposed to be or not supposed to be - you're just plain on your own. And it's your playground, but one you absolutely cannot mess with - you still have to respect it, and with that comes great joy in the interaction with your surroundings. You feel lucky, you feel blessed...and very vulnerable in this case. I didn't really look down, or think to do it but at one point and I hardly glanced down before I felt another swell of doom reach down my throat and grab my soul, no even my heart, but my all, my being, my sense of life, of living, of communion with my chosen perspective, chosen pathways, the way I thought I decided my life would be like whether I realized it or not. There it was, grabbing at my knowledge and safety and all of a sudden I became more than "me." I became the physical, gripping, grappling, struggling choice to continue to see what this life was all about. We make choices all the time like that, when we're depressed and need to get off our asses and get in gear, or when we take a big job, or quit a big job, or take a cruise, or travel, or ask someone out on a date - all this stuff - but when you're hanging to a ricky edge at 14,000 feet, you must act with your hands and feet and mind and body to go forward. Especially when you have no choice but you still feel like it is your will played out both mentally and physically that is going to keep you alive, and get you there. You are the physical representation of your will. There, that explains it. No hiding behind conversational eloquencies, no hiding behind curiosities or play or anything. You're holding onto rock, that's what you're doing, and you're climbing up, or you're falling a long, long, long way down. I still don't feel like I accurately described it, but I hope I touched on a small part of it.
Didn't take any pictures at that point, so the following are of soon before that point:
For perspective - another hiker...can you see him on the right of the ridge - not far from where it becomes a steep downgrade all the way to the right...?
I got to the top and immediately began to cry, just because I'd honestly wanted to for the last 45 mintues of 30% assurance that my next step was going to keep my from falling. I was first to the top, too, because once I saw a path that looked sure, I climbed up it so fast, the boys were cheering for me from behind. Once I started to cry thought my throat immediately closed up and I thought that nope, that wasn't a good thing to happen at 14,200 feet so I just took some deep breaths and sat down on the first rock I could find.
And then I looked. I looked at a view of 3 mountain ranges, red, grey, white, brown, green - I saw the top of them all. And then I cried because it was beautiful. Just a little bit, and then - peace. Peace and accomplishment and strength and confidence and awe and companionship with my friends who pushed me on, disbelief, joy, giddiness, reverence. So much. So, so much. Sooooo much.
We took a timed photo of all of us mooning the view.
We climbed down the other route, which was a blast for me because although it was totally slippery, if you fell, you fell on your ass and not to your death. We climbed along a ridge connecting two peaks, a ridge that was saw from far below and really hoped we could hike across. Scrambled down a very steep part of the basin from that ledge to snow where - albeit at first unintentional and soon completely intentional, I began to slide down a basin of snow, about 400 feet at a 30% grade. I have never felt so lighthearted and amazing. Ass getting soaked, I was hootin and hollerin and what was even better was all the laughing and yelling from my friends above watching me slide down. I was definitely butt-sledding and it was THE BEST EVER. Nothing could have topped off that hike any better. I was flying high after that. I think that most certianly at least made my entire year. That moment was the moment where I felt I was everything I ever wanted to be, and was feeling the feeling I'd always hoped I'd feel in my life.
To make a still longer story shorter, I'll just say that once at the bottom of the two basins, at 12,800 feet, we started our 5 mile hike back down and after a mile or so two guys in a truck driving down offered us a ride, so we hopped in the back and enjoyed the scenery and the breeze as we got a wonderful ride down the mountain. We even stopped and ate wild raspberries for 10 mins partway down.
Really, that may even be THE most amazing overall experience I've had so far. The best way I've been able to describe it so far is that I really, truly feel like I've experienced an entire lifetime in one day.
And I have so much more to go.
- - - - -
I hiked/climbed up to 14,200 feet today, starting with a moonlight hike at 4:45am. Went with two wonderful people, Bill (who I went to college with) and Bryce. Just two great people stoked to hike Castle Peak. We each got up at about 3:15am, met at my place at 3:45 and headed to the trailhead. We took Castle Creek road the 12 miles past Ashcroft (a ghost town) to where the trailhead was. There's a road that you can 4-wheel up to 12,800 feet, but of course, in an Acura, we went only about a mile. It's totally dark outside, and 4:45am.
Headlamps strapped on (but off, see, it was a full moon, need I say more about the greatness of that?) and we park near the entrance of a campsite. We start on our way and Bryce's car alarm goes off, which is all too funny to us considering we're 14 miles from the neareast town, out in the boonies, and parked right next to someone's campsite. Bryce turns it off and fixes it so the tilt sensor (he was parked at a tilt, yes) was deactiviated. Much grinning and laughing about that! I can't believe at this point that I'm hiking in the woods in the dark, albeit with 2 other people thank goodness. The rocky mountain faces look incredible in the moonlight and we can even see a waterfall coming down from perhaps 12,000 feet up. We are currently at about...9,800 feet? I hiked with a big smile. Soon enough the eastern sky started to turn light blue - the light was so amazing, everything cast blue, and the air so cold but it felt so good when hiking up and up and up.
Then, story number two: Bryce's contact just falls out while he's taking a picture so that he could see out of pretty much only one eye. Bill suggests they look for it - I personally think they are crazy, it's a contact for god's sake and it's the rocky mountains! But - yeah, they find it! Pretty quickly too, in the dirt and foliage. What?? Crazy - but great.
So, ha, he gets his contact back in and we hike on. We soon enough hit out 2nd landmark (1st being a water crossing) which is where the road forks to Pearl Pass and Castle Peak. This is 11,200 feet. Those wooden signs that you find indicating direction on a trail deep in the woods - they're great, they're so earthy and rustic and helpful and make you feel special that you've seen it.
So we continue - tree line is definitely approaching and we bid farewell, literally out loud, to the trees and head up. Looking down every now and then we see that the sun is starting to shine into the mountain valled below, and onto the peaks above us that we are likely to climb.
Oh goodness and the best parts are only to come, but - I am soooooo tired. And I mean that. I think I pretty much have to go to bed right now. I want to preserve this day SO badly but hopefully I will be able to describe it well tomorrow.
Wait - maybe I will try to honestly be brief and elaborate only on what needs to be elaborated upon.
Okay - this is a blog entry. Brevity may be appreciated.
Okay - so we get to 12,800 feet and snack. Take silly pictures, laugh lots, and stare up in disbelief at the climb we have ahead. Another 1,400 feet of bouldering and scrambling until we get to the peak, which we can finally see.
Okay folks, all I can tell you is that I honestly thought I might die or become seriously injured. The bouldering was iffy but didn't suggest death. All of the hiking from 12,800 up was on rocks, some smaller or bigger than other, some more solid than others, but it was rock, you got used to sliding a lot. The last 400 feet were half rock climbing and have scrambling up moist, loose soil and scree with a nice 1,000 foot drop to journey if you lost your footing, which was very, very easy to do. Funny how your thoughts go nearly blank while also extremely deep at the same time. Survival mode, where you MUST just DO. But what would stop me in my tracks was the realization (at least to me) that my life could end. What do you do with that? Evidently, you keep climbing. If you go back down then you lose the pack, they go on without you, and then you're completely alone while still feeling entirely vulnerable. You want to get to the top but sense tells you you're not supposed to be here. Maybe that's a large part of it - being there where you're not "supposed" to be - or rather, as I guess I've realized before, where there is no supposed to be or not supposed to be - you're just plain on your own. And it's your playground, but one you absolutely cannot mess with - you still have to respect it, and with that comes great joy in the interaction with your surroundings. You feel lucky, you feel blessed...and very vulnerable in this case. I didn't really look down, or think to do it but at one point and I hardly glanced down before I felt another swell of doom reach down my throat and grab my soul, no even my heart, but my all, my being, my sense of life, of living, of communion with my chosen perspective, chosen pathways, the way I thought I decided my life would be like whether I realized it or not. There it was, grabbing at my knowledge and safety and all of a sudden I became more than "me." I became the physical, gripping, grappling, struggling choice to continue to see what this life was all about. We make choices all the time like that, when we're depressed and need to get off our asses and get in gear, or when we take a big job, or quit a big job, or take a cruise, or travel, or ask someone out on a date - all this stuff - but when you're hanging to a ricky edge at 14,000 feet, you must act with your hands and feet and mind and body to go forward. Especially when you have no choice but you still feel like it is your will played out both mentally and physically that is going to keep you alive, and get you there. You are the physical representation of your will. There, that explains it. No hiding behind conversational eloquencies, no hiding behind curiosities or play or anything. You're holding onto rock, that's what you're doing, and you're climbing up, or you're falling a long, long, long way down. I still don't feel like I accurately described it, but I hope I touched on a small part of it.
Didn't take any pictures at that point, so the following are of soon before that point:
For perspective - another hiker...can you see him on the right of the ridge - not far from where it becomes a steep downgrade all the way to the right...?
I got to the top and immediately began to cry, just because I'd honestly wanted to for the last 45 mintues of 30% assurance that my next step was going to keep my from falling. I was first to the top, too, because once I saw a path that looked sure, I climbed up it so fast, the boys were cheering for me from behind. Once I started to cry thought my throat immediately closed up and I thought that nope, that wasn't a good thing to happen at 14,200 feet so I just took some deep breaths and sat down on the first rock I could find.
And then I looked. I looked at a view of 3 mountain ranges, red, grey, white, brown, green - I saw the top of them all. And then I cried because it was beautiful. Just a little bit, and then - peace. Peace and accomplishment and strength and confidence and awe and companionship with my friends who pushed me on, disbelief, joy, giddiness, reverence. So much. So, so much. Sooooo much.
We took a timed photo of all of us mooning the view.
We climbed down the other route, which was a blast for me because although it was totally slippery, if you fell, you fell on your ass and not to your death. We climbed along a ridge connecting two peaks, a ridge that was saw from far below and really hoped we could hike across. Scrambled down a very steep part of the basin from that ledge to snow where - albeit at first unintentional and soon completely intentional, I began to slide down a basin of snow, about 400 feet at a 30% grade. I have never felt so lighthearted and amazing. Ass getting soaked, I was hootin and hollerin and what was even better was all the laughing and yelling from my friends above watching me slide down. I was definitely butt-sledding and it was THE BEST EVER. Nothing could have topped off that hike any better. I was flying high after that. I think that most certianly at least made my entire year. That moment was the moment where I felt I was everything I ever wanted to be, and was feeling the feeling I'd always hoped I'd feel in my life.
To make a still longer story shorter, I'll just say that once at the bottom of the two basins, at 12,800 feet, we started our 5 mile hike back down and after a mile or so two guys in a truck driving down offered us a ride, so we hopped in the back and enjoyed the scenery and the breeze as we got a wonderful ride down the mountain. We even stopped and ate wild raspberries for 10 mins partway down.
Really, that may even be THE most amazing overall experience I've had so far. The best way I've been able to describe it so far is that I really, truly feel like I've experienced an entire lifetime in one day.
And I have so much more to go.
posted by Sara | 2:07 PM
1 Comments:
"You are the physical representation of your will".
Well said, missy!! That's the best thing I've heard for awhile.
Fantastic story, great photos. Those big mountain climbs are climbs through your consciousness, too-- and funny it seems that the physical world and your inner world are so tightly linked. Makes you wonder how separate we really are from our surroundings... or are we?!
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