14,265ft.
Tenmile Range
3/58 (This was my second time up Quandry Peak).

A good friend and I spent all of last summer dreaming about our winter adventures: back country skiing, ice climbing, winter 14ers, hut trips, etc. Historically, winter is my very favorite season – I love holding warm mugs and not sweating and I anticipate the first snow of the year as much or more than I anticipate any other yearly event. But then that friend and I ended up on completely different work shifts and my personal life imploded. There’s a lot more that could be said about that, maybe it will be said, eventually. (I wrote a little bit more about all of this here: https://thedandelionforest.wordpress.com/2018/04/10/4-9-rain-snow-winter/)

The gist is this winter I didn’t buy a ski pass and I forgot how to adventure or how to mean it when I smiled. Every now and then I could feel the person I wanted to be somewhere somewhat tangibly. That manifested in funny ways, one of those was realizing maybe I didn’t need my friend with me to stand on top of a 14,000+ foot peak in the wintertime. I quickly resolved that this was something I still wanted, regardless of company. I ashamedly put in only enough research to pick Quandry Peak after a google search revealed it to be a “good wintertime 14er” due to comparatively low avalanche risk, short-ish distance and an easily accessible parking lot. I put in even less preparation and chose one of the few dates that would work before I left for Spain with no regard for weather. Further, the reason I chose that particular date was because I would be getting off work at 0300 that day. I ignorantly figured that was when I’d have to leave anyways and I’d already be awake. (This is a true testament to how the-opposite of a morning person I am – I will bury an intense winter climb and over six hours of driving into twenty-four hours of being awake simply to avoid the act of waking up when it’s dark out. Pathetic, I know. I’m getting better, I promise).

I ended up inviting a different friend along at the last minute. She graciously drove, although I avoided sleep. We hit the trail around 0600 and enjoyed ourselves and each other’s company until tree line. Nestled in the trees we had known it was windy, but per usual on 14ers, it wasn’t until we reached a tree-less elevation that we realized the extent of the wind. (I later discovered that the wind speed averaged 35-40mph that day, with frequent 60mph guests). Ice relentlessly hit our faces, which felt like tiny needles (my face ultimately went entirely numb). And we post-holed frequently, our shoes filling with snow as we crawled our way out of hip-deep snow every few steps.

My friend, understandably, decided to turn around shortly after tree line for the well-being of her dog. After some discussion, I decided to keep going. My pup was still doing fine (we would’ve turned around had he shown any signs that indicated otherwise) and I had an absurd amount of determination. I kept putting one micro-spiked foot in front of the other, taking solace from the wind whenever possible. I eventually found myself sandwiched by incredible people. One man shared a trekking pole with me, I’m certain I would not have summited without his generosity. Another shared his sour skittles with me in exchange for my promise to share the contents of my flask with him at the top. And yet another exchanged phone numbers with me so that he could send me photos he took of the pup and I braving the ridge (main photo). We all became somewhat of a family, checking in with each other frequently as we all experienced this ridiculous amount of self-inflicted misery.

“I felt like I owed myself the victory of standing on top,” I told my counselor as I recounted the details of this adventure later that week.

“I could stand to do without all the people I have left behind .. I’ve been waiting all this time to be something I can’t define .. I’ve just gotta get myself over me.” – The Format (The First Single)