14,336ft.
Sawatch Range
15/58

I know in my last post I said Mount Yale was my favorite 14er experience and I stand by that, bear with me, La Plata Peak was my favorite round-trip views and overall the trip itself was so stinking fun. The best little group fell into place and man it felt good to laugh, camp, eat good food and enjoy pretty views with great friends. And we all reached the consensus that we found the best campsite there ever was.

We were a ways from the trailhead so we got a late start due to packing up camp, and then an even later start due to a dead-car battery, thank goodness for jumper cables and our last minute decision to take two vehicles. It all turned out fine.

Mostly. It was my car and the whole ordeal put me in the worst mood. We woke up to freezing temperatures and I migrated to my car to use the mirror to put my contacts in. It was a matter of seconds before the light dimmed and my car made an awkward clunk noise. My suspicion is the combination of cold and the use of the light, but I don’t know. I know so little about cars and that was the problem. I was more stressed out and grumpy about the reality that this could’ve happened to me on a solo hike than I was about the easily-mitigated issue at hand.

I digress. We began our hike around 0600 and I recovered quickly. I scream sang “No Air” and “One Step at a Time” by Jordin Sparks frequently. I’m not sure my friends cared for it, but I didn’t really care for them putting rocks in my backpack, so I guess we’re even. (No wait, listening to me dyspneacly scream “how am I supposed to breath with no air” is way better than carrying ten extra pounds up 43% grades. But maybe I’m biased).

Regardless of incessant singing and heavier than desired packs, the company was superb and I couldn’t be more thankful for the combination of personalities. All of us, five humans and three dogs, made it to the final ridge just above 13,000ft.

Shortly after that, our group dropped to three humans and one dog striving for the summit. The others made the wise-for-their-own-needs decision to say “next time.” I think this is important. I didn’t summit my first 14er and I’ve turned around on more than one since then. I think my parents were more proud of those decisions, my knowledge of my abilities and my acceptance of unfavorable conditions than they would’ve been if I had summited the peaks I’ve turned around on. Sometimes it just isn’t the right day and that’s okay.

Those of us that continued ran into much more snow than anticipated. Then the wind picked up. Then my grump from earlier that morning snuck back in. Then we summited and got to glissade down the snow we struggled up and everything was okay again.

After our group reconvened at the car, we drove into Leadville to reminisce, eat nachos (my absolute favorite post-hike food) and share pictures. I’m so thankful for friends who understand my love language is adventure. I’m thankful for these memories. And I’m thankful to have friends who put up with me, and aren’t afraid to tell me, when life is getting the best of me.

And in a way, I’m even thankful to have friends who are like-family-enough to put rocks in my backpack. It was strangely endearing .. but only once.

_

I wrote in my Mount Lindsey write-up that car-trouble was one of the two main concerns I had about hiking and camping alone. Following this trip, I immediately scheduled an oil change and a “check anything and everything I wouldn’t think to check, because I’m doing a lot of driving this summer and I know nothing about cars” appointment. (And I think that’s a direct quote). They reported that my battery was fine and everything else appeared “mechanically sound,” but I still back into most parking spots and hold my breath every time I try to start my car post-hike. And luckily, 14ers are popular enough that I have yet to encounter being the sole car at a trailhead.