july, part one

As some of you know, within the past few years my family has established the tradition of spending the 4th of July hiking a "tallest peak". 2008: Hayley, my dad, and I hiked Humphrey's peak (12,637 ft) in Arizona. 2009: the whole Steele clan, plus Bill and Samory did Wheeler's peak (13,161 ft) in New Mexico. This year we decided to join the 14er's club and tackle Colorado's Mount Elbert (14,443 ft). Turns out we got in a little over our heads.

Mount Elbert Lodge aka Relaxation Station

Most of the weekend was spent relaxing at the Mt. Elbert Lodge, where our numbers had warranted that we rent out the entire bed and breakfast. We had a full kitchen and a patio with hummingbirds galore (quite aggressive ones, too, I might add). Needless to say, there was food, there was beer, and there was sitting, chatting, listening to the river, and watching the birds. We knew we'd be exerting ourselves soon, so we made sure not to do so before hand.

Bill, Caitlin, Kevin and I almost to the ridge

Then came the 4th: hike day. We all woke in the 5's and geared up (except Hayley who planned on staying behind due to a stress-fractured hip). The trailhead was just across the street from the Lodge, so up we went: Dad, Caitlin, Bill, Kevin, Allison, Mom and myself. Allison and Mom hiked for a while then turned back so as to not stress Allison's bun-in-the-oven. The rest of us plowed on up through the trees, made a few river crossings, and after a few hours hit the tree line. We kept trekking. Multiple hours, hundreds of switchbacks, and several snacks later we made it to the ridge (around 13,800 ft). We still had a few miles and another peak (South Elbert at 14,100 ft) to cross before reaching the summit, and Bill and Kevin were starting to feel the effects of the altitude. After much deliberation, they decided that it would be best if they turned back. And then there were three.

Circa 10 minutes pre-puke and feelin' great

Dad, Caitlin, and I, all feeling good, took off towards the top. But shortly there after, as we crested South Elbert, Caitlin started feeling a little queezy. Not five minutes later, shit hit the fan (or rather, vomit hit the rock). At first she attributed it to eating too fast or maybe a bad peach (it certainly didn't look good on that rock) and said she felt much better now, so we continued. It didn't take long to figure out that the "feeling better" was temporary; looked like we were dealing with a case of altitude sickness. At this point we were on the final stretch towards the top, and I could tell Dad was disappointed, so we told him to hurry and finish; we would head down and he would most certainly catch us in no time.

Shortly after Dad departed, barf #2 left us to rest next to the trail after a run-in with some marmots. One of these precious rodents strolled right up to us and said, "Snacks, please!" (Ok, fine. He didn't really say that, but we knew what he was thinking) Being the wildlife guru I am, I knew we shouldn't feed them, but for some reason, I couldn't remember for the life of me if it was marmots or badgers that were the mean ones (I blame the altitude). I decided it'd be best if I scared the hungry fellow off. When hiking poles didn't do the trick, I had to resort to airborne rocks as we proceeded past their stomping grounds. Soon after, Dad descended and asked the marmots if they had seen his girls. No response (they must have been upset about the rocks). He found us a few minutes later sitting in the grass just beyond the marmot's rock field.

The descent was slow and stressful. I carried Caitlin's pack and she leaned on Dad's shoulders to conserve energy. Blood sugar was on a steep decline, so snacks were attempted a few times, only to result in more up-chuck. In the end, it was decided that water was the only thing she could keep down, but she powered through for several hours until we were below the tree line.

It wasn't until we reached the first river crossing that the wheels fell off. As Caitlin attempted to steady herself on the logs that traverse the water, she gave in to the exhaustion and decided she could't go any further. Dad and I stared at each other for a while, completely at a loss for what to do. When we composed ourselves, we decided Dad would go down (he's much quicker) and I would wait with Caitlin for help to return. I removed my shoes and socks, loaded Caitlin on my back, and moved her across the river (only to find out later that we would be laying in mosquito heaven).

After a few hours of assuring Caitlin that she wasn't going to die, swatting mosquitos from her face, and worrying about the impending sunset, Mom and Kevin came to our rescue. They informed us that Dad had hurried down the mountain (it took him 15 minutes from the point that took us an hour to get to) and made contact with search and rescue; they were on their way. We waited some more, and eventually search and rescue showed up, followed shortly after by search and rescue on horseback.

We loaded up and made our way slowly to the trailhead, arriving just after dark. An ambulance was waiting at the bottom, and Mom and Caitlin rode to the hospital. The rest of the crew went back to the house for me to change and eat something before making our way to the hospital too. In the end, Caitlin was suffered from extreme electrolyte imbalance and dehydration as a result of the altitude sickness. She spent the night in the hospital and was released the next day.

As a result of the trip, I have vowed never to venture about 10,000 ft with Caitlin (except in an airplane, of course). Next year we think we'll try a "highest point" in a coastal state.