a halcyon beginning

I remember balancing on fallen trees as I followed the man I would soon be falling in love with. We were on a ridge near Durango, Colorado. It was the summer of 2010 and the beginning of my hiking adventures. Or rather, my serious hiking adventures; I’ve hiked since childhood, but only sporadically and never obsessively. I would follow Mike all summer as he introduced me to the alpine world. It was with him that I first saw the beauty of peaks shaded red from oxidized iron ore. It was during that golden summer that my desire to be outside began to outweigh my predilection for high heels and cocktail bars. Moreover, I think my love for hiking is forever entwined with the feeling of those halcyon days when we listened to Bon Iver and The Amazing as soft yellow light wrapped around our coffee thermoses on hairpin turns, as we settled into a deep familiarity with each other climbing in sync through patches of purple-blue columbines, as we shared our future career plans while also noticing water droplets weave down each others bodies as we soaked in hot springs. Eleven years later, I still follow Mike into the mountains, although now I call him my fiancé.  

a mined mountain in the san juans

our first summer together. mike hasn’t parted with me nor his mesh shorts

Together we still seek alpine lakes, though now we leave from our home base in Denver. I still let Mike take the lead on mountainous adventures because he is (lucky me) so utterly responsible. From the moment he loads our camping gear, he willingly takes responsibility for our hiking plans, the weather, our food, and our safe return. 

ten years and many hikes later

ten years later and the same mesh shorts!

seeking peaks

Mike and I have always shared the same aesthetic appreciation for the alpine and desire to be outside and active. Yet, at some point, when he wanted to take a beat and relax at the shore of lakes, I grew restless and started climbing up towards the peaks above. Some of these excursions resulted in unplanned 13er summits and times when I encouraged Mike to follow me beyond the summits and down to other lakes so that our planned hikes turned into very long loops where we sometimes ran out of water. These unplanned loops were an irresponsible bad idea on my behalf, but fortunately we never had a bad outcome.

Eventually I began doing longer and more technical hikes on my own. Mike was over me breaking my promises that I wouldn’t want to just keep hiking even after the trails ended. Yet, before you jump to the conclusion that Mike should just follow me up those ridges, I should say that Mike is tough and capable. But, his passion is snowboarding. He gets his high from jumping out of helicopters to ride down steep terrain, not always from climbing it. He had also climbed some of Colorado’s highest peaks before meeting me, and, although I cannot fully recall, it may have been his idea to hike what would be my first “14er.”

congratulations to me! i climbed a 13er . . . and then ran out of water!

hiking 14ers: a sceptic joins the crowds

On a warm September day, Mike, a new friend of mine from grad school, and myself hiked up and down my first 14er, Mount Bierstadt. A “14er” is a peak that has a summit that is 14,000 feet or more above sea level. 14er is a term that is popular in Colorado because all of the highest peaks (there are arguably 58), are between 14,000 and a little less than 14,500 feet in elevation.

I enjoyed hiking Bierstadt because it was hard, the high elevation terrain felt otherworldly, the views were spectacular, and the company was excellent. However, I was not enthusiastic about the large number of hikers, though there were not nearly as many as there are these days. In general, I do not love crowds and am sceptical of activities with mass participation. In fact, I thought that the popularity of joining the hype and climbing 14ers was lame: why would you chose to be in nature with a bunch of often annoying people when there are a multitude of other rigorous and scenic hikes nearby?

I felt this animosity towards hiking 14ers for a long time, although I did climb several in the following years because they were novel hikes for me to do in the front range mountains near home. I did some with Mike, some with friends, and some by myself. 

an autumn view from Mount Bierstadt

Memory is a slippery thing, but I think it was my desire to hike high peaks coupled with my preference to not hike entirely alone that led me to seek out 14ers above other hikes. 14ers have popular hiking trails, and so I could hike “alone” without actually being alone. My perspective and attitude changed as I did these hikes. First, they became fun. I interacted with a lot of people stoked to be out there, and slowly I realized that becoming part of the 14er community wasn’t so bad. I felt simply happy after hiking the DeCaLiBron loop alongside a lot of other folks. It was helpful to have words of encouragement as I struggled hiking – no rather sliding – down rocky Mount Bross! Second, I climbed Mount Elbert, the famously tallest peak in Colorado, accidentally by myself. I wanted to do a sunrise summit. I figured there would be other people on the trail at two or three am on a Friday morning at this iconic mountain! Wrong! I hiked through the dark forest and didn’t see another person until I passed a man close to the summit. It was my first solo hike at night and I was afraid of furry predators that could suddenly emerge on the path. So, I never appreciated the white glow of the moon more than when it came out right as I reached tree line, and with it the safety of light and sight. I’ve never seen a more spectacular inversion layer than the one that morning when the clouds looked like the ocean, the yellow alpine flowers like they were on a bluff above water. The experience was a bit frightening, but fully remarkable. Not only were 14ers becoming a fun social experience, they were also a place where I could get close to heaven and become brave.

happy with Hallie on the DeCaLiBron loop

giving thanks at sunrise on mount elbert

my current love affair: why I am enamored with 14ers

My Colorado 14er Journey has become meaningful and epic. The inner drive to hike more of these mountains sometimes sets my whole body on edge. In the pre-dawn hours, with a brown sugar pop-tart in hand and sunscreen already on my face, I drive to the trailhead to hike a high mountain and the feeling of intense excitement cannot be matched; those treks that I still sometimes do alone always require extra courage when I begin at night and will the forests not to introduce me to any new animal acquaintances. Before these hikes, I often listen to upbeat music for a short drive down a dirt road, knowing that in the following hours exertion and fear will morph into complete bliss. This pleasure mixed with trepidation produces awe.

As I write this I have summited 30 14ers. With this experience I can articulate why I am enamoured with 14ers:

• 14ers are places with extraordinary beauty.

• 14er trails make me mentally and physically stronger. They also make me brave.

• I4ers are embraced by a community of hikers, and it is usually a great joy to be part of that community.

• 14ers offer an invitation to continually research and learn more about specific peaks; it’s motivating to have a set objective, a list of mountains to choose from, and ample information about how and when to climb them.

on top of longs peak, my 30th 14er summit

the journey continues: it’s not a race to the end

I have the goal of climbing more 14ers, but that is not my sole hiking focus since there are a legion of enchanting peaks and valleys and shorelines to hike. There is also my full life of other priorities. Also, as I write this, I have entered the part of my 14er journey where I am encountering real physical risk and the decisions that accompany it. People do die on 14ers. I told myself for years that I would never climb anything above a “class 2.” Then last summer, I was suddenly ready and eager to hike Longs Peak, a “class 3.” I did so without difficulty and, surprisingly, without fear. That experience shifted my perspective on hiking. I learned that experience breeds confidence and capability, which reduce danger. I am now ready for class 3 hikes. However, at this point I do not know if I will ever climb all the 14ers. Some people begin hiking them and do them all within a short time span. That is not me. I am risk averse. So, going forward, I will take one mountain at a time. 

FOMO (fear of missing out) can be a side effect of joining the 14er hype. Sometimes it’s hard to stay home and scroll social media just to witness others reaching the summits I want to. I hope, however, that in my brief fits of envy, I can remember that I wanted to climb 14ers so that I could go higher, so that my lungs would strain and expand, so that I could see more, feel more. I didn’t begin hiking so that I could check peaks off of a list, and certainly not to feel inadequate for not reaching summits fast enough. I fell in love with hiking in the same way that I fell in love with Mike. I fell in love because I felt happy. My body and mind entered a state of satisfaction and peace. I felt like my true self, felt like the world around me was good and hopeful, felt like it was enough to just exist and experience being alive. When I become anxious to climb another peak, I hope I can remind myself to be eager for these good and true reasons. And when I am not able to hike these mountains, I hope I can tell myself that it’s okay; these peaks have already given me lasting memories that will carry me forward with an extra bit of confidence and faith. After all, hiking, like love, is a boundless journey. It is not a race to the end.

full of awe on sunshine peak

A Note on how Colorado 14er Journal Entries work:

Posts will be written and published in the order that I hiked the 14ers. They will not be based on any ranking system. Also, I started to write these entries after having climbed 30 14ers. Thus, many of the entries will be written from a somewhat distant memory. Since these posts will emphasize the aesthetic qualities of the hikes, I think that the temporal distance will serve to highlight the wondrous qualities that stood out. Happy trails.