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Knowing that any given second
Could be your last on this earth
Absolutely terrified
Please, please
Oh please spare us
Trembling with fear
Like a rabbit
With a mountain lion bearing down
Poised to strike
How can it be
That your mind drifts away
Shutting out the pain
Calmness sweeps over
Waiting for fate to come
Without a care in the world
While death is still deciding
Whether or not to take you
How can it be?
Deep into the Indian Peaks lie the Saint Vrain Glaciers. Nine miles in. There’s a 4x4 road that leads halfway which would’ve been useful if only we had the right vehicle. Dave’s pickup was not enough. My Bronco is not properly equipped. Neither of us could drive past the crux jus one mile in. We saw others with big burly tires and off road suspension make it over. They made us jealous and added new toys to our lists of wants.
So we made the long trek all the way from there. Sixteen miles round trip, all on foot. It was too much for one day. The three of us (Mir, Dave, and me) couldn’t complete the mission.
Long story short:
On that first attempt (July 21st) we were booting up the snow when the t-storms rolled in. We had to abort and run for the cover of trees 500 feet below. Vowing to come back another day.
On the eve of July 26th, we did. With all the camping gear we’d need. Loaded down with all that extra weight, it was 6 miles and hours of heavy labor. Evening became dusk, dusk became night. Hiking in the wild well after dark. With a bright half-moon casting shadows onto pale mountainsides. Difficult balance acts on slippery rocks and logs across the streams. Winter suddenly growling and staring into the blackness of the night. Warding off who-knows-what. Watching over me and Mir. Our little family was having an experience.
With tomorrow’s drinking water boiled, stomachs full and backs sore; finally we slept. The starry night fades away, melting into morning.
Light slowly leaks into my eyes until they’re were wide open; staring at the illuminated roof of the tent. Mir is mummified in her sleeping bag and Winter is curled up in a ball. Both awoke when I unzipped the door to take in the sunrise over the lake. Dave and his yellow dog Milli were soon coming up the trail to meet us.
Two pristine miles of scenery later, we were booting up the glacier. This time was a success. Mostly. Somewhat. For a while.
Once again, thunderheads were coming. Dave saw them first and got spooked into hammering down the run all in one shot. Winter chased him down. But before we’d clicked in, Mir and I saw the clouds break apart enough to feel safe. We savored it, stopping here and there to photograph each other. Together in our happy place. But something was amiss.
Milli hadn’t yet descended. She was still at the top. Whimpering and crying. I’d seen her hesitate before, but she’s resourceful and courageous. Always finding the nerve to execute; often in steeper places than this.
This time though, something had her oddly spooked. We called for her from the bottom to no avail. Finally, Dave began booting back up to get her - frustrated. Clouds were thickening once again. Then came the crack.
Thunder boomed and echoed off all the mountain walls surrounding us. Dave was a third of the way up. He scurried to the side and hid in the moat between the rocks and snow. We ran for the trees a hundred feet up on the opposite facing wall. We could still hear Milli’s cries from the top of the run. We wondered if she’d become trapped under loose rocks. She had sent several of them tumbling down.
Minutes passed without thunder and soon Dave reappeared onto the snow. He’d left his lightning rods (skis & poles) in the moat and was basically sprinting up the bootpack. We feared for him. How the hell was he going to get down? It was a steep pitch of firm snow. I don’t suppose he even cared at the time. His poor baby was alone and crying at the top. In an unknown and perilous situation. He just needed to get to her as fast as possible.
I was about to leave our cover to see what I could do when another burst of thunder pinned me back down. Dave once again disappeared into the moat on the side.
This pattern repeated itself, with the thunder getting closer each time. Finally, blue sky split the clouds and we breathed a little easier. Dave was most of the way up now. Milli had been silent for quite some time. Then we heard something awful.
It was Dave’s voice. “FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK!!!!” And it wasn’t anger. There was agony in his voice. Anguish filled the air. I felt sick to my stomach. We were speechless and stunned.
We made our way out of the trees, down the scree and back to the apron. Dave was way up high; prone and clinging to the snow. Another explicative broke the silence. I wanted to puke. But just then, Mir saw and said something wonderful. “Matt, look above Dave! She’s alive!” Sure enough, Milli was moving about just out of his reach.
We’d later discover that Dave’s agony was that of anxiety and utter exhaustion. He’d grabbed Milli by the collar and was inching her down when she slipped it and ran back up. The sky was getting gray again. And he couldn’t coax her down.
I gave a yell and his answer was “HELLLLP!” So we geared back up and began making our way. I don’t know how I summoned the strength. My legs burned every step of the way. The first time up I’d barely stayed ahead of Mir, but this time the urgency was like a fire under my butt.
I found Dave’s skis in the moat and grabbed them. Climbing out of it with 4 skis on my back was excruciating and meticulous. The early afternoon sky grew darker still. It was a race against time.
In my hurry I lost balance and slipped several times. Milli was somewhere on the rocks above and out of sight. She was skirting narrow stony shelves and trying for an alternate route. Dave was trying to catch her. Occasional rocks tumbled down. I was unaware of many of them, just watching my step until Mir would shout “ROCK!” from below. Thankful that she was watching, I kept moving. Sometimes with bowling balls missing by inches.
About three quarters of the way up, Dave was back in sight. Milli was on his lap, trembling. Aside from a bloody paw, they were both ok. But she was frightened. She wouldn’t get on the snow – which was the only way down.
So we did what we had to do. Take turns carrying her over our shoulders. A squirmy, 70 pound dog. Ski a high angled glacier with that as a condition. After hiking all those miles. Having booted up there twice. Knowing that we had to hurry because another storm was imminent. I thought I knew what pressure was, but now I really do.
The first angled traverse went well, but that first turn was scary. With both arms around the dog and her added weight, I gained way too much momentum. On the verge of losing control, I dug the downhill edge as hard as I could. While skidding to a slow stop, the searing pain of a muscle cramp shot through my leg. It seized, I collapsed and laid clinging by two metal edges. Dave took Milli from me, and had pretty much the same experience.
We took turns doing this until halfway down where the pitch eased off a bit. We hoped Milli would get down on her own power as ours had run out. Sink or swim, little girl. At first she wouldn’t engage those paws and started sliding, but she did pop up and eventually start running.
Our relief would be short-lived. We were almost down when it happened. A flash lit the sky with an immediate, deafening clap of thunder. Right on top of us, reverberating off those walls. Going on and on as if the sky was tearing apart. Maddening.
We raced to the bottom, threw our skis as far away as we could and huddled together around a three foot boulder. Hail began pelting us, harder and harder until the pain of it was tortuous.
There we were; three people and two dogs all gone fetal in the focal point of a vicious thunderstorm. Quivering and shaking. “Please, please oh please don’t…” BOOM!!! Like a shotgun blast over our heads, leaving our ears ringing.
This continued – the intense hail, breath-taking flashes and air splitting thunder for so long that something strange happened. A calm, relaxed frame of mind. In the middle of a war zone. I cannot explain why. One by one we each began to feel this way. We began talking. Mir took a picture of Dave before he’d let go. The flash of her camera was a bit unsettling, but it was all ok. We counted seconds between lighting and thunder. The hail began to let up. It was finally moving away after a solid twenty minutes, leaving us covered in white pellets – but alive and well.
We hiked back to camp without speaking much about anything. Soaked and chilled to the bone, we gathered up dead wood, made a stone circle and built a fire. Darkness fell. We cooked 6 packages of ramen and as many bratwursts. Shots of rum and JD went down until we were all gathered around the warmth of the fire and finally speaking of our fierce experience. Laughter and smiles swirled around with sparks from the fire late into the night. And then we slept.
Dave in his tent, me and Mir in ours. So at peace, so special. It wasn’t just today’s trauma, but the whole experience that was powerful for the two of us. Hiking miles in the dark, waking together in the wilderness, unzipping and seeing the world through the door of a tent, and of course, the wild events that followed. Hugs and kisses. Goodnight, moon.
Dawn of a new day came and went before we awoke. It was a quiet morning in the outdoors. Peaceful and sunny. Reflections of mountains in the lake. We fished for trout, watched a deer watching us from a lush, green meadow and took turns boiling water. Breakfast over the re-kindled fire. We didn’t speak much of the previous day as we packed up our things, said our goodbyes and began the long journey home.
The six mile hike out was rather quiet. Alone in, yet bonded by our thoughts. Taking in the peace and tranquility of one of the more serene places in Colorado. Resigned to the fact that our skis would be put away after this trip. Hanging them up until those first August turns. Probably sometime next week. :D
We're currently sorting through over a hundred images; the best of those are coming soon....
Tits. Thanks, Duph.
OK. So it's rained everyday in Colorado for like a month, and you guys decide to hike above timberline to ski. The lightning that's probably crackled around your house for a month has actually caught your attention when it's too late. You got scared, and shit yourself. You than decide to post about it like you're a victim.
Sickety sick Duph!
Don't bother dude. There's been a few lame aliases popping up lately. Let em go. They all fade eventually.Quote:
Originally posted by duph
Have a snack, troll.
What tipped you off?Quote:
Originally posted by phUnk
Don't bother dude. There's been a few lame aliases popping up lately. Let em go. They all fade eventually.
These alias are all obviously Blurred Elevens, He has no idea how to use the words:
there & their or than & then.
Quote:
You than decide to post about it like you're a victim.- feelthebreeze
Matt, that was beautifully told. Thank you so much.
While I'm uploading pictures (modem connection), I thought I'd share a few of my impressions of this unforgettable trip.
I get my ass kicked in the mountains all the time. Dave and Matt are so strong and so smart that I never thought I'd see the day when they were taxed to the point of physical and emotional exhaustion. Matt carried pretty close to his own body weight on his back the night before and Dave hiked in from the trailhead with his camping gear and skis on the same day he went to ski the glacier. We're talking miles. And they were both still strong on the initial boot up - kicking in steps for me into fully glaciated snow. It's so easy to take them for granted. The second time they had to head up to the top was an exercise in sheer willpower and I feel priviledged to bear witness to what they accomplished bringing Milli down. These guys are my heros.
When we finally got back to the camp we were completely soaked and chilled to the bone. There comes a point where your body just gives up on generating warmth and we were there. The fire we built was our salvation and as our bodies warmed our hearts and minds were soothed and we sat and talked into the night and came to an understanding of our experience. It was cathartic. And I felt some surreal connection to all the other fires made by man, back to the ice age.
Hiking at night was a real pleasure. As the evening unfolded from dusk to full darkness, my eyes adjusted so well. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to see, but everything took on a different kind of clarity and I felt very surefooted and relaxed. I didn't want or need the flashlight. When we finally got to a boulder field and Matt turned on the flashlight for a moment to pick a route, the light happend upon a cluster of white flowers nestled between the rocks, making them glow. All the fairy tales of my childhood came to life. Pure magic.
I've been wanting to camp and ski for some time now and I'm grateful to Dave for making it possible. We haven't got the gear for it and he hooked us up good. Tent, sleeping bags, stove - we were set. It was fun and interesting to figure out what else to bring, everything we needed and not a bit more. An exercise in minimum/maximum constraints, kinda like some of the calculus I did in college. I think we did a fair job of it, obviously some improvements will be made as we get more experience. Some thoughts:
1) Ramen rules! Hot and filling and cheap and lightweight. It mixes with anything.
2) Eggs can be pretty stupid. They were fragile and took too long to cook in the morning. It was frustrating to see all the cartons at the grocery store were made of egg whites - we need our protein. Where can we get powdered eggs in Summit County?
3) Bratts are so yummy, but they also took too long to cook. Next time I'll pre-cook brats and breakfast burritos and just warm them up at the camp.
4) Rum and instant sugar free coolaid is a winner. Very tasty. I got me a major buzz and didn't even miss having beer. /grin Instant coolaid also makes boiled water taste good.
5) Starbucks doubleshots are not worth the weight, even though I am addicted to them. Next time I'll get the box of instant cappucino.
6) Tuna and triskets and the little condiment packages of relish and mayo lifted from the convenience store make a great lunch. But some of the packages burst open and next time I'll put them all in a plastic box.
7) Gotta bring a rope to hang the food pack in a tree. Climbing up and down when you're exhausted is a pain. We didn't see any sign of bears, but you never know.
There's so much more swirling around in my head, but the jist of it is that I had the time of my life. I thrived on the challenges and want more of the same. Dave's got a lot of experience and I'm glad he's willing to lead the way. He's talking winter camping and I'm starting to see the possibilities. We can go anywhere.
Shera & Duph, your stories take me there, I vicariously live through these stories. They are pure stoke and you guys have killed it this summer. I miss the mountains, specifically the areas in colorado that you guys have been hitting, so much, but reading about your trips makes me feel like I'm there.
Thanks for bringing the stoke, I look forward to hearing your stories from august.
Be safe out there.
Hey dickhead, I'm good friends with Mir and Dave.Quote:
Originally posted by INDY GS
These alias are all obviously Blurred Elevens, He has no idea how to use the words:
there & their or than & then.
Post first, then smoke crack.:rolleyes:
No worries, Brett. We got a pretty good idea who's causing trouble. I think you do too. ;)Quote:
Originally posted by BlurredElevens
Hey dickhead, I'm good friends with Mir and Dave.
Post first, then smoke crack.:rolleyes:
I know it ain't who Duph thinks it is.
Yeah, I think I know Mir.:)
Duph thinks it's Ted Stryker, but Splat knows it's not him. Does that mean that Splat knows Ted Strykers real identity????
Please share with us Pat.
The pics are finally uploaded. These aren't all of them - I think Matt'll get the ski pics linked when he gets a chance.
Here's the crew:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727all.jpg
Getting our gear together:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mdf.jpg
Setting out. After the way I wanked out on our first hike up, Matt decided to carry my skis as well as his and a significant portion of the rest of the gear. Jeeze.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mdb.jpg
I was only carrying about 60 lbs.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mg1.jpg
This was one of the easier stream crossings. Still light out and the logs weren't moving under our feet.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mda.jpg
Our home away from home:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...2004727md9.jpg
What joy to be in such a beautiful place:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...reflection.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...91/727svg2.jpg
The dogs are loving it:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...0291/727w4.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...7milli%7E0.jpg
The best fire ever. Dave's got cave man skillz.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...1/727fire1.jpg
Late night drunkenness (Dave refused to compromise himself. /wink)
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mdg.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...727mgf%7E0.jpg
Mmmmm, little piggies. Can you tell that I dropped them on the ground a few times?
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...1/727brats.jpg
Breakfast of champions:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...7breakfast.jpg
Down time. Matt went fishing.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mde.jpg
Let the little guy grow up. Send his grampa next time:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...91/727fish.jpg
Meanwhile, Winter stopped to smell the flowers:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...0291/727w3.jpg
And she tolerated the braid I made for her harness:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...0291/727w2.jpg
We were being watched. Can you see the deer?
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...91/727deer.jpg
Time to head home. Since Matt had a hockey game that night, I carried my own skis. He got pretty much everything else.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...1/727packs.jpg
Our leader and baby girl ready to go:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db5.jpg
See you next time:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db4.jpg
That would require I also divulge who you are.Quote:
Originally posted by BlurredElevens
Yeah, I think I know Mir.:)
Duph thinks it's Ted Stryker, but Splat knows it's not him. Does that mean that Splat knows Ted Strykers real identity????
Please share with us Pat.
Brett, I have no problem with you or dispute the fact that you are friends with any one here. I noticed a trend in many of your posts, that trend continued in these alias's posts. Sorry to point a finger, just something I observed.
I have no problem with you man, I think you bring some good stoke to this place as well as a bit of humor.
Thanks for the pics Shera. Looks like fun despite the obvious setbacks.
Quote:
Originally posted by splat
That would require I also divulge who you are.
Go ahead, I have nothing to hide. However, you and I both know that I'm not Ted Stryker. I know a few of your aliases though.:eek:
Beautiful picture btw you guys.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...reflection.jpg
Nope, nobody with an alias is hiding anything. They just want to raz people or start feuds and not let people know it's them.
I've done it. But got over it. That certain rush of knowing I could say anything without the comments being tied to me. Kinda like stealing cookies out of the cookie jar as a child. And what goes around, comes around; even on the interweb.
With the thought in mind that none of us should take anything too seriously here and not allow ourselves to get our feelings and egos bruised, and (to a great degree) let shit-slinging slide, I'll not betray the confidences of those who have placed their trust in me and say only the following-
I just get tired of seeing a group of people, all of whom I know and like personally, backbiting and accusing each other (sometimes rightly, sometimes falsely) of internet slanders and thriving on vituperation when they could be spending those words infusing one another with much better energy.
[/clue]
Great narrative to go with those pictures, Mir. It should be said that these aren't just pictures that Mir and I took, but Dave's (iskibc) are mixed in as well....
This is where we could drive no further on on the 4x4 road.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...0291/727b2.jpg
When we saw these two make it over,
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/7274x4.jpg
that's when we were envious. Those two didn't even hesitate with their rigs. They didn't get out to scout, no need for a spotter, they just took their tailored routes (varying by vehicle type) and powered right through as if they'd had it memorized. They probably did. We simply lacked the proper equipment and experience and wound up spinning tires endlessly no matter what we tried.
And here's something I didn't mention about our first attempt. Dave was so far ahead of us on the hike down on July 21st that he didn't benefit from the "taxi". An amphibious old military vehicle whose driver gave Mir and I a ride down the last couple miles. Talk about an awesome vehicle, this guy just hammered down the road with 40" clearance over rocks that would tear my Bronco to shreds. This is Mir getting out:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mgg.jpg
And here she is looking over the lake where we set up camp:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mgd.jpg
And as I said, we embraced each other's company
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...1/727mdmg1.jpg
as well as the beautiful things that surrounded us on the hike up to our run.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...columbines.jpg
Can you see Mir and Winter?
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mg3.jpg
Dave beginning the booting:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db9.jpg
And here he is doing an excellent Spider-Man impression at the top:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db1.jpg
Meanwhile, me, Mir and Winter took a break; unable to make Dave's pace.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...0291/727w1.jpg
From there the three of us tried for an alternate route up. Thwarted by impassable cliffs, we were making our way back to the main couloir when Dave came skiing by and speaking of the nearing thunderheads. So we took an alternate entry, not quite from the summit but not far down from it at all. An angled sub-chute that had a damn good pitch of its own. Mir going up it:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mg5.jpg
Mir coming down:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mg6.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mg7.jpg
Me:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727md5.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727md4.jpg
Dave in the main chute:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db8.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db3.jpg
Me:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727md3.jpg
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727md1.jpg
The $money$ action shot. Mir next to the waterfall:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mga.jpg
Dave in the same spot, on that unexpected 2nd run:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db7.jpg
and you-know-what came next. What follows is that shot I mentioned Mir took. When we almost rode the lightning and crashes split the air; rolling and tumbling down every mountainside. Pelted by sheets of hail. Are we going to survive?
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727db6.jpg
Let me tell you, I was at least as scared as they looked. When Mir's flash went off, I kept saying: "That was your camera, right Mir? That was the camera, right?" Those were my first words in about 10 minutes and about when I started feeling lucid.
This is a shot we took as the initial storm passed from our cover in the trees.
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...91/727svg1.jpg
That was before we really feared that something tragic had happened to Milli. Soon after that was when me and Mir began booting up the 2nd time. Dave was near the top and appears as a speck; indistinguishable from the rocks.
I don't have much more to say; other than about the hike out. I enjoyed it, but was mentally and physically exhausted. I just looked around at all the views as Mir led the way and I mindlessly followed and struggled to keep up. She found ways around many of the stream crossings for me; as I'm sure she knew I wasn't capable of the balance needed for the normal ways across. Here's one of many views I had of her leading the way:
http://www.tetongravity.com/usergall...291/727mgc.jpg
I can't really think of anything more to add; my mind is exhausted just thinking of it all and reliving it. It is so unforgettable.
Thanks for the stoke guys. This is why i can't wait to move west. All those white tipped mtns. just beg to be skied everytime i see them in the summer.
You guys fucking rule. Great shots of the experience and the skiing.
http://tetongravity.com/ubb/icons/icon14.gif http://tetongravity.com/ubb/icons/icon14.gif http://tetongravity.com/ubb/icons/icon14.gif http://tetongravity.com/ubb/icons/icon14.gif http://tetongravity.com/ubb/icons/icon14.gif
This deserves a big bump. I'd hate for anyone to miss it due to the problems with the board over the weekend.
Great report guys!!!
First of all, GREAT PICS!
Second of all, you hiked all the way up there for THAT?!?!?!:eek:
Thirdly, you COULD have driven your Bronco up that you PUSS! Learn how to drive! :D
WOW! Exellent and amazing pictures! Thanks for this TR...very wonderful.
I am glad I opened this thread before heading home from work...sets the tone for a happy evening.
However, I was saving it for tomorrow to stave off Tuesday boredom. Can you post more?
:)
Sprite