A&Ox3, Cap Refill <2, + Dehydration
One of the items on my list of things to do while in the Denver area was the check out Pike's Peak (now known as Pikes Peak-no ownership to that old guy who "owned it"). Going to PP is a touristy thing to do, but it is supposed to have spectacular views and could really be a nice trip. In January, upon my arrival, I knew I would like to go there and I knew that hiking the mountain was an option but you had to wait till later in the year. Well that proper time came last week.
I had a hard earned 6 days off and decided in the midst to hike the trail to the top of PP. I could book a one way ticket down the mountain on the train and not have to hike the trail back down again. There are warnings on the website that the trail could be snowy into mid May and I was a hair past that date.
I showed up at the train station at opening time 0800, bought a ticket for the 4:40 departure from the top of the mountain and started the hike. It climbs 8,000 feet in elevation to a peak of 14,200 some odd feet in 13 miles. Translation: difficult. I timed it out to be sure I could reach the peak in due time and monitored my milage per hour closely, so I could turn around if I knew I would not get there in time. But really, how bad can it be to hike 13 miles in about 8 hours?
The first few miles involved me dodging runners flying down the switchbacks. Me out of breath a bit, monitoring my fluid intake (I had about 70 oz. of water with me) and wondering if the switchbacks would end. They did. The trail continued to climb but levled off a bit. It was cloudy but warm, I had a pair of long hiking pants, and a t-shirt on and was warm but comfortable. At 6 miles into the hike I was making good time on (unknowingly) the easiest part of the trail and decided at Barr Camp to go all the way up. The camp is about 7 miles up the trail and give info on conditions on the peak, if the train is not running and so forth. I saw it, did not stop and hiked up a bit furthur to take a short break to eat a banana.
Part of my problem when hiking is I am not hungry. I hike a crankin' 7 some miles and had eaten some blackberries. Thats it. I had 6 more miles to go and looked at my peanut butter and banana sandwich with a bit of nausea. Didn't look that good to me. At this point in the hike I was hitting some small spots of snow. It was a bit melty but easily crossed in my hiking boots and not a bother. I was tired but feeling like I could get to the top in time, I am ahead of schedule at this point and feeling decent enough to finish with extra time. I took another break to eat and drink some more, I was averaging enough fluid and plenty left to the top and had noodly legs. I was walking a bit drunkenly perhaps because of lack of calories, lack of oxygen or lack of muscle. It was at this point I hit "the snow". I don't think I have EVER hated snow so much as this snow. I cursed ever liking snow, ever having skied on snow, ever having wanted snow to fall, and ever calling snow beautiful. This snow, piled over the trail was crusty slightly melty snow. I can remember this type of snow because it was so fun to carefully walk across it. Well, I stepped carefully on it walked across a chunk and got to the other side. I accomplished this a couple of times without incident but the snow was becoming more frequent on each switchback. Then...WHAM! I fell through the snow up to my knee. I climbed out and WHAM fell into the snow up to my thigh. I pulled myself out and WHAM up to my thigh again. The switchback were the worst because it would be one continuous pile of snow and you would fall through it. I figure: "Okay Noelle, this is tough but you will hike out of the alpine eventually and into the sun where the snow will have melted, you will be fine you will hike out of it." So I began to climb around the switchbacks to avoid some of the snow but the snow was everwhere so it helped some but I hiked around a snowy switchback into the snow. (and I thought my legs were noodly before..HA!)
I broke from the alpine line to find I had 3 miles left to go to the peak. It was only 1pm or so. I followed the old familiar footsteps out into the open, rocky somewhat "mossy" area. I got lost. Telling myself that the snow would clear was STUPID. It was there, thigh deep in plenty of areas with hazardous rocks in the snow, so would drop in the snow and cream your knee on a rock. Lucky for me I was 13,000 feet and not feeling much besides short of breath. I went way off the line, thinking I refound the trail on the other side of an ocean of snow (still cursing the creation of snow at this point). I swam over the snow slogging through the waist deep stuff and starting on the trail with some relief. The snow was there, but the gravel was the old familiar stuff I followed for the first 10 miles. It dissapeared. I walked up and over and up and over in desperation. Turned around and around sat down and cried. I was quite tired at this point had wet feet and a long ways down the mountain through a whole lot of snow and switchbacks. A short time through my cry I told myself: "Buck up you wimp, you gotta hike 11 more miles and it is almost 2 o'clock. Get your butt in gear and quit sniveling." I don't know how to explain the feeling I was having. I was dying to sit on a train, dying to have my brother with me and dying to not have to hike 11 miles down a mountain. I knew I had to attempt to retrace my steps back the way I came, back over the ocean of snow back over more moss and snow than you can imagine to where I lost the trail. I went back, found the trail......and found the trail going up!!! I was reenergized, saw the snow and didn't care much and headed up the mountain and climbed up the trail in a drunken, lolling walk with wet feet exhausted legs and just enough water to get to the top (but plenty of snow to melt for water) and a will to get to the top on time. I followed a whole bunch of switchbacks looked at the peak high above me and started to forget about taking every single one. There were some footsteps, tracks I recognized as consistently leading me the right way everytime, going straight up the mountain. Well heck, why not me too? I clearly at this point had not learned my lesson about getting off trails. I followed them right up the mountain. The snow was very soft in some places, I had at many times throughout the day crawled on hands and knees (sans gloves). It much more comfortable with icy snow on your reddening your palms than trying to constantly pull yourself up out of waist deep snow with nothing to grip on. (Imagine trying to get out of icy water or a steep embankment in which the stable pieces keep breaking away) So at some points I crawled up the snow, at some points I climbed up rocky walls and boulder and at some points had to jam the toes of my boots into the hard snow to get any traction. This is when the second concundrum hit me. The two most trusted tracks I had followed almost all day went in two very different directions and both cut across each other and went all sorts of other directions. I was lost again. I wasn't sure which peak to head up, if I was even on the right mountain face, or how long I could do it. No clue. A little over a mile and a half from the top of a famous mountain and I was lost. My left knee was swollen (although I could not feel it much), I was exhausted, but I still had enough time to reach the peak. I was alert and oriented (I asked myself the questions) a bit tachycardic, hadn't eaten near enough calories, dehydrated and mentally exhausted. Try encouraging yourself for about 8 hours, it is tiring.
I did what I thought was best, called the cog railway for directions. They didn't know. They had me try the sat phone at Barr Camp. No one answered but the message did say: "If you have questions about Barr trail, the hike or problems on the mountain please call the sheriff department at..." I called the cog railway (I have reception up here?) and told them what the message said and they said "I guess call the sheriff" Well little did I know that number was for El Paso County Search and Rescue and when I tell them I am lost they of course say "Don't move we will have a coordinator call you and try to help you out." I have at this point add my middleweight long sleeved shirt already because of 30-40mph winds and a 45 degree air temp. So I think..okay well I brought an extra pair of socks and these are soaking so lets change them. Changed into dry socks. Filled a zip lock bag with snow and put it on my knee and in the middle of all that got a call from Brian. I told him my milage, I was on the east face of the mountain and how far north and south I most likely was and how far from the peak. We chatted awhile, hemmed and hawed and ultimatley knew I could not get up the mountain in time to get the train. He gave me ideas on how to find the trail again and best method after that....but we needed to decide what I should do. Could I hike down 12 miles? What about if someone from Barr Camp came up to meet me? Should we send someone to pick you up?
Not one to be cocky I didn't think I could make it another 12 miles through all that snow. Plain old gravel trail? Sure. All that snow? No way. We ultimatley decided to send someone up to the peak to drive me down. I felt soooo guilty about it, hated to make them do it, especially for something so minor but what else was I to do? He asked how I could handle the cold (earlier in the conversation my apparel was questioned) I told him I was from Wisconsin and could handle about anything. I was under strict instructions to look for the trail if I was up to it and follow that up the mountain it would be long over an hour before anyone could get up the mountain, if the road was even passable.
I climbed over some hard snow sometimes back to the mountain to give my knee a break and found the trail!!!!!! Brian called to check in on me and said if I lost the trail again to sit tight (right, like I am going to let a bunch of search and rescue people haul me up the mountain). I had already called the 'rents when sitting on the rock waiting for Brian to call so I texted them the info and we kept each other up to date that way. I added my fleece as my final layer. Needless to say the swollen knee was kept out of all conversations. Later I found out mom had cried about the whole deal on the phone with a friend. Even after I told them that I was perfectly alright, had plenty of food, could melt snow with my body heat for water and could still hike. MOTHERS! I became very cold at this point and texted my dad (told him not to tell mom) and he prayed for me. Very soon I was warm again. Probably the only prayed that was answered the way I wanted. I had hoped for superpowers so I could teleport, fly or heal myself like a character on "Heroes" but God vetoed all of those I guess, I'll let you know after the next eclipse.
I ended up getting on and off the trail throughout the route, and in the end began climbing again. I was exhausted and extremely short of breath I had to take breaks every few minutes and my lips were peeling like crazy from dehydration. I laid down on rocks every once and awhile and could have honestly slept right there. My body was begging me for sleep and any remotely flat rock looked like heaven for my body. The thing that pushed me up the mountain were the boys in the vehicle on their way up. I wanted to be there before they got there. I did not want them to have to come find me. So I worked and worked and worked and rested a minute, and worked and worked and worked. I was less than 100 yards from the top when I saw them. One, than two, than three, than four and some guy in a t shirt. Two very kind men walked up with me the rest of the way I was breathing VERY heavy at this point. All of them were fully garbed in what can only be named as search and rescue gear. Then the questions started: "What's the date today?" I quickly rattled off the date, my location, my name and where I lived without them asking. All this while another one checked my nail beds. I secretly hoped they would throw an IV in me and give me some nice warm saline. I took my rehydration via oral fluids offered by the team, peeled the gunk off my lips and hoped in the suburban. They made no complaints, I got one small lecture, a nice number of stories and a very good impression of what they do. So minus my pride, a load of bruises, a black toe nail, a swollen knee and a horrible cough from being at that elevation so long I came out intact. I just hope the bruises fade before the wedding.
In conclusion: I prayed hours that day. My family and friends did too although it wasn't an emergency. God answered those prayers, not by magically removing me from that mountain or taking away that cursed snow, but he answered them. Now I would like to do that trail again on a day sans the snow. I know I could complete it.
I had a hard earned 6 days off and decided in the midst to hike the trail to the top of PP. I could book a one way ticket down the mountain on the train and not have to hike the trail back down again. There are warnings on the website that the trail could be snowy into mid May and I was a hair past that date.
I showed up at the train station at opening time 0800, bought a ticket for the 4:40 departure from the top of the mountain and started the hike. It climbs 8,000 feet in elevation to a peak of 14,200 some odd feet in 13 miles. Translation: difficult. I timed it out to be sure I could reach the peak in due time and monitored my milage per hour closely, so I could turn around if I knew I would not get there in time. But really, how bad can it be to hike 13 miles in about 8 hours?
The first few miles involved me dodging runners flying down the switchbacks. Me out of breath a bit, monitoring my fluid intake (I had about 70 oz. of water with me) and wondering if the switchbacks would end. They did. The trail continued to climb but levled off a bit. It was cloudy but warm, I had a pair of long hiking pants, and a t-shirt on and was warm but comfortable. At 6 miles into the hike I was making good time on (unknowingly) the easiest part of the trail and decided at Barr Camp to go all the way up. The camp is about 7 miles up the trail and give info on conditions on the peak, if the train is not running and so forth. I saw it, did not stop and hiked up a bit furthur to take a short break to eat a banana.
Part of my problem when hiking is I am not hungry. I hike a crankin' 7 some miles and had eaten some blackberries. Thats it. I had 6 more miles to go and looked at my peanut butter and banana sandwich with a bit of nausea. Didn't look that good to me. At this point in the hike I was hitting some small spots of snow. It was a bit melty but easily crossed in my hiking boots and not a bother. I was tired but feeling like I could get to the top in time, I am ahead of schedule at this point and feeling decent enough to finish with extra time. I took another break to eat and drink some more, I was averaging enough fluid and plenty left to the top and had noodly legs. I was walking a bit drunkenly perhaps because of lack of calories, lack of oxygen or lack of muscle. It was at this point I hit "the snow". I don't think I have EVER hated snow so much as this snow. I cursed ever liking snow, ever having skied on snow, ever having wanted snow to fall, and ever calling snow beautiful. This snow, piled over the trail was crusty slightly melty snow. I can remember this type of snow because it was so fun to carefully walk across it. Well, I stepped carefully on it walked across a chunk and got to the other side. I accomplished this a couple of times without incident but the snow was becoming more frequent on each switchback. Then...WHAM! I fell through the snow up to my knee. I climbed out and WHAM fell into the snow up to my thigh. I pulled myself out and WHAM up to my thigh again. The switchback were the worst because it would be one continuous pile of snow and you would fall through it. I figure: "Okay Noelle, this is tough but you will hike out of the alpine eventually and into the sun where the snow will have melted, you will be fine you will hike out of it." So I began to climb around the switchbacks to avoid some of the snow but the snow was everwhere so it helped some but I hiked around a snowy switchback into the snow. (and I thought my legs were noodly before..HA!)
I broke from the alpine line to find I had 3 miles left to go to the peak. It was only 1pm or so. I followed the old familiar footsteps out into the open, rocky somewhat "mossy" area. I got lost. Telling myself that the snow would clear was STUPID. It was there, thigh deep in plenty of areas with hazardous rocks in the snow, so would drop in the snow and cream your knee on a rock. Lucky for me I was 13,000 feet and not feeling much besides short of breath. I went way off the line, thinking I refound the trail on the other side of an ocean of snow (still cursing the creation of snow at this point). I swam over the snow slogging through the waist deep stuff and starting on the trail with some relief. The snow was there, but the gravel was the old familiar stuff I followed for the first 10 miles. It dissapeared. I walked up and over and up and over in desperation. Turned around and around sat down and cried. I was quite tired at this point had wet feet and a long ways down the mountain through a whole lot of snow and switchbacks. A short time through my cry I told myself: "Buck up you wimp, you gotta hike 11 more miles and it is almost 2 o'clock. Get your butt in gear and quit sniveling." I don't know how to explain the feeling I was having. I was dying to sit on a train, dying to have my brother with me and dying to not have to hike 11 miles down a mountain. I knew I had to attempt to retrace my steps back the way I came, back over the ocean of snow back over more moss and snow than you can imagine to where I lost the trail. I went back, found the trail......and found the trail going up!!! I was reenergized, saw the snow and didn't care much and headed up the mountain and climbed up the trail in a drunken, lolling walk with wet feet exhausted legs and just enough water to get to the top (but plenty of snow to melt for water) and a will to get to the top on time. I followed a whole bunch of switchbacks looked at the peak high above me and started to forget about taking every single one. There were some footsteps, tracks I recognized as consistently leading me the right way everytime, going straight up the mountain. Well heck, why not me too? I clearly at this point had not learned my lesson about getting off trails. I followed them right up the mountain. The snow was very soft in some places, I had at many times throughout the day crawled on hands and knees (sans gloves). It much more comfortable with icy snow on your reddening your palms than trying to constantly pull yourself up out of waist deep snow with nothing to grip on. (Imagine trying to get out of icy water or a steep embankment in which the stable pieces keep breaking away) So at some points I crawled up the snow, at some points I climbed up rocky walls and boulder and at some points had to jam the toes of my boots into the hard snow to get any traction. This is when the second concundrum hit me. The two most trusted tracks I had followed almost all day went in two very different directions and both cut across each other and went all sorts of other directions. I was lost again. I wasn't sure which peak to head up, if I was even on the right mountain face, or how long I could do it. No clue. A little over a mile and a half from the top of a famous mountain and I was lost. My left knee was swollen (although I could not feel it much), I was exhausted, but I still had enough time to reach the peak. I was alert and oriented (I asked myself the questions) a bit tachycardic, hadn't eaten near enough calories, dehydrated and mentally exhausted. Try encouraging yourself for about 8 hours, it is tiring.
I did what I thought was best, called the cog railway for directions. They didn't know. They had me try the sat phone at Barr Camp. No one answered but the message did say: "If you have questions about Barr trail, the hike or problems on the mountain please call the sheriff department at..." I called the cog railway (I have reception up here?) and told them what the message said and they said "I guess call the sheriff" Well little did I know that number was for El Paso County Search and Rescue and when I tell them I am lost they of course say "Don't move we will have a coordinator call you and try to help you out." I have at this point add my middleweight long sleeved shirt already because of 30-40mph winds and a 45 degree air temp. So I think..okay well I brought an extra pair of socks and these are soaking so lets change them. Changed into dry socks. Filled a zip lock bag with snow and put it on my knee and in the middle of all that got a call from Brian. I told him my milage, I was on the east face of the mountain and how far north and south I most likely was and how far from the peak. We chatted awhile, hemmed and hawed and ultimatley knew I could not get up the mountain in time to get the train. He gave me ideas on how to find the trail again and best method after that....but we needed to decide what I should do. Could I hike down 12 miles? What about if someone from Barr Camp came up to meet me? Should we send someone to pick you up?
Not one to be cocky I didn't think I could make it another 12 miles through all that snow. Plain old gravel trail? Sure. All that snow? No way. We ultimatley decided to send someone up to the peak to drive me down. I felt soooo guilty about it, hated to make them do it, especially for something so minor but what else was I to do? He asked how I could handle the cold (earlier in the conversation my apparel was questioned) I told him I was from Wisconsin and could handle about anything. I was under strict instructions to look for the trail if I was up to it and follow that up the mountain it would be long over an hour before anyone could get up the mountain, if the road was even passable.
I climbed over some hard snow sometimes back to the mountain to give my knee a break and found the trail!!!!!! Brian called to check in on me and said if I lost the trail again to sit tight (right, like I am going to let a bunch of search and rescue people haul me up the mountain). I had already called the 'rents when sitting on the rock waiting for Brian to call so I texted them the info and we kept each other up to date that way. I added my fleece as my final layer. Needless to say the swollen knee was kept out of all conversations. Later I found out mom had cried about the whole deal on the phone with a friend. Even after I told them that I was perfectly alright, had plenty of food, could melt snow with my body heat for water and could still hike. MOTHERS! I became very cold at this point and texted my dad (told him not to tell mom) and he prayed for me. Very soon I was warm again. Probably the only prayed that was answered the way I wanted. I had hoped for superpowers so I could teleport, fly or heal myself like a character on "Heroes" but God vetoed all of those I guess, I'll let you know after the next eclipse.
I ended up getting on and off the trail throughout the route, and in the end began climbing again. I was exhausted and extremely short of breath I had to take breaks every few minutes and my lips were peeling like crazy from dehydration. I laid down on rocks every once and awhile and could have honestly slept right there. My body was begging me for sleep and any remotely flat rock looked like heaven for my body. The thing that pushed me up the mountain were the boys in the vehicle on their way up. I wanted to be there before they got there. I did not want them to have to come find me. So I worked and worked and worked and rested a minute, and worked and worked and worked. I was less than 100 yards from the top when I saw them. One, than two, than three, than four and some guy in a t shirt. Two very kind men walked up with me the rest of the way I was breathing VERY heavy at this point. All of them were fully garbed in what can only be named as search and rescue gear. Then the questions started: "What's the date today?" I quickly rattled off the date, my location, my name and where I lived without them asking. All this while another one checked my nail beds. I secretly hoped they would throw an IV in me and give me some nice warm saline. I took my rehydration via oral fluids offered by the team, peeled the gunk off my lips and hoped in the suburban. They made no complaints, I got one small lecture, a nice number of stories and a very good impression of what they do. So minus my pride, a load of bruises, a black toe nail, a swollen knee and a horrible cough from being at that elevation so long I came out intact. I just hope the bruises fade before the wedding.
In conclusion: I prayed hours that day. My family and friends did too although it wasn't an emergency. God answered those prayers, not by magically removing me from that mountain or taking away that cursed snow, but he answered them. Now I would like to do that trail again on a day sans the snow. I know I could complete it.
posted by Noellebellz at 5:21 PM
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