2002.10.10 - As a birthday present, I decided to treat myself to a long weekend trip to Colorado. I made all the necessary preparations, and before I knew it, I was on a flight heading to Denver. My plan was to climb two Fourteeners (Mt. of the Holy Cross & Mt. Bierstadt) while I was there so that I could get a feeling of what climbing at higher alititudes would be like. The plane ride went without a hitch, and at around 8 PM Mountain Time, I found myself a mile higher, ready to hit the road in my rental Alero.

I had tossed around ideas about sleeping in Idaho Springs to acclimatize, but I was so gung-ho when I actually got to Colorado, that I decided to drive out toward Castle Peak, the highest point in the Elk Mountain Range. During my planning, I couldn't decide which "14ers" I wanted to climb, and Castle was one of the ones that had barely been eliminated from this trip's itinerary. Thinking that I might be able to squeeze in 3 peaks in 3 days was fairly cavalier (especially for someone coming from just above sea-level), but I chalk it up to stupidity and youthful enthusiam.

The drive seemed to take forever, since there wasn't a whole lot to look at in the darkness, but after a few hours, I reached Independence Pass along CO 82. The temperatures were hovering around 0°F when I got out of the car, and the wind was making it feel significantly colder. I quickly threw on a few more layers and put on my headlamp so that I could see in the infinite blackness. I jogged a little way to the South to see how I was handling the alititude, and I din't really get winded at all. On my way back to the car, I glanced up in the night sky to see an absolutely magnificent show of stars; there was a new moon, so there was no perceivable light pollution whatsoever. After about 30 minutes, I got back in my car for the remaining drive through Aspen to the Castle Peak trailhead.

I finally reached the trailhead where I would spend the night at around 2 AM. Because it was already so late, I decided to leave the tent packed up and just car camp for the 4 remaining hours of darkness. I still wasn't feeling any effects from the ~3000 m elevation (9800 ft), however, that would soon change.

2002.10.11 - I awoke to a beautiful sunrise and a terrible headache; apparently my body was fine working at altitude, but not sleeping. If I felt this bad at only 3,000 m, the summit was definitely out of the picture for this trip. Instead, I chose to go take some pictures of the fall colors (Aspen really has been aptly named) off of the road as I headed back toward Holy Cross, which I would be attempting the next day. In order to rest well for the next day's attempt on Eagle County's highpoint, I decided to sleep at a hotel in Frisco, which was pretty cheap since ski season hadn't started yet.

2002.10.12 - The alarm went off at the crack of dawn at 5 AM. Its strange, how I can make myself get up at this time or earlier to go climbing, but I can never get up before 7 AM to go into work. Motivation I guess. ;-) Anyway, I had already packed up all of my gear the night before, so I got dressed and jumped in the car to get out to the Holy Cross trailhead for an early start. The sun had just risen enough that a headlamp wasn't necessary for the start of the hike, so I headed off into the wilderness.

Rather than taking the more crowded Half Moon Pass Route, I elected to follow the Halo Ridge Route past the Notch Mountain Shelter and up to the summit. The temperatuers today were in the 20s, and so I stopped probably about 200 yards into the hike to remove some of the layers that I thought would be necessary. The valley portion of the trail went by quickly. I started feeling a little bit sick when I took the obvious turnoff up Notch Mountain, but I was still feeling good enough to try and press on to at least see the cross, hopefully with some snow in it. I began to notice more signs of AMS when I was nearing the ridgeline, which made me decide that it was time to turn around. Given the length and exposure on the route I had chosen, I didn't want to make any stupid mistakes just because I wasn't feeling well.

2002.10.13 - When I got up on Sunday morning, I was feeling much better, and ready to climb one of the Fourteeners that I set out for. Since my flight was leaving that afternoon, I quickly got ready for my planned climb of Bierstadt. I got to Guanella Pass quickly & easily, and I was ready to hike by 07:00. For those who don't know, Guanella Pass is located just above 3,500 m (11,700 ft), making for a vertical climb just under 3,000 ft. As a result of this, Mt. Bierstadt is regarded by most Coloradoans as one of the easier fourteeners to climb; it is close to Denver and only entails about a 4 hour climb.

The trail began by descending into a grove of waist-high willow bushes that used to present climbers with quite a difficult time. The Colorado Fourteeners Initiative constructed the present trail to reduce the environmental impact of hundreds of climbers per year "willow-bashing" through this area. The route then switchbacks up the western slopes of the mountain, eventually topping out at an elevation of 4,288 m (14,067 ft). The day that I visited, however, the upper portion of the Class 2 trail was mostly covered in snow of varied depths.

I made great time going up the trail portions of this climb. Usually, I measure my pace estimating that I should be able to hike more than 1000 ft per hour, and this was definitely the case. I wasn't feeling any effects from the altitude, and my hiking pace rivalled my best ever. Within an hour-and-a-half, I was staring up at the final pitch toward the saddle, which was only a few hundred feet or so below the summit itself. It was at this point that the conditions started to change; the trail that had been free from snow at lower elevations was now buried in an endless sea of white. The snow cover was up to 1 meter deep in some places but just a few millimeters in others, making for lots of "surprise" postholing.

My rate of ascent slowed quite a bit as I struggled up through these variable conditions. I tried my best to follow the footprints that others had made, but often, one boot would punch through the surface, while the other landed against an invisible rock. I started to get really tired after doing this for a while, but I wasn't about to turn around. The clock was ticking on whether or not I could make it back to the airport in time to catch my flight, but that was one of the furthest things from my mind; I was sick with summit fever! As I got higher, the snow became firmer, and conditions became perfect for kicking steps. I hadn't really noticed it, but the altitude was making me have to work a lot harder for each upward step, though thankfully I wasn't feeling any sympotoms of altitude sickness.

Before long, I arrived at the saddle, where a stiff gust of wind almost ripped me off my feet. From that point, I could see the top and thus quit caring about how tired I was, how much I needed to breathe, or when I needed to get to the airport. The only thing on my mind was that barely-visible pinnacle of rock. With the now icy conditions, the exposure along the east side of the ridge was a sight to behold. After 2.5 hours of climbing, I finally crested out onto the rocky summit of Mt. Bierstadt around 09:30. I was spiritually knocked down by the beauty of my surroundings! I thanked God for safely guiding my feet to this summit. I spent about 10 minutes in wonderful solitude (which is extremely rare for this peak) until some other climbers made their way up to the top. We exchanged summit photos, but before long, I had to be on my way back down toward the airport.

Realizing the time-crunch that I had put myself in, I didn't have any time to stop and take photos like I had intended. Instead, I took the quickest way down back to the Guanella Pass trailhead; I got to experience my first glissade for about 300m down from the summit ridge. Once the snow became too soft, I spent the rest of the descent doing a combination of plunge-stepping where the snow was deep enough and side-stepping where there was but a thin layer of ice. Surprisingly, it took me another 2.0-2.5 hours to descend, just because I didn't want to risk injury in order to save a few minutes. Thankfully, I made it back down to my car with just enough time to beat the Sunday traffic into Denver and to change clothes for the flight home.

As I was getting on the plane, I couldn't help but think what a blessing today had been. The flight climbed up above the clouds and I could see the summit on which I had stood a few hours earlier. Feeling truly satisfied, I got back to Fort Worth, ready to plan my next mountaineering trip!