On a chilly June morning, I found myself on top of the world. 14,439 ft above sea level, the summit at Mt. Elbert is the highest point in all of Colorado and the second tallest point in the contiguous United States. Additionally, it is over 1,900 feet higher than Mt. Baldy, which was the mountain I was supposed to climb that day. It was an adventure planning and experiencing a sporadic 14-day trip out west after our Trek at Philmont Scout Ranch was canceled due to the Ute Park Forest Fire. Climbing this mountain was my biggest accomplishment; the crew I hiked with experienced altitude sickness, we hiked through the snow in the middle of the summer, and I made the most anticipated Facetime call of my life.
Mountain climbing is a peculiar sport; it’s a race against the sun. We woke up at o’ dark thirty and began hiking at 4:20 am up the five-mile trail to the summit. The goal is to break the tree-line before sunrise, then to be under the tree-line by noon. In the unstable atmosphere that resides in altitudes higher than 12,000 ft above sea level, afternoon storms prey upon weary uninformed hikers. The mountain air alone strangles victims by depriving them of oxygen and conspires with headaches and nosebleeds to banish climbers to lower ground. The freezing temperatures solidify sweat and create the unpleasant sensation of being warm and exhausted and cold and stiff at the same time. Nevertheless, all nine crew members forced his way to the top.
As a Georgia boy, it's rattling to say that the most snow I have ever seen in my life was in the middle of the summer. It clothed every rock along the trail so that I could never tell which rock was secure to place my combined weight of myself and my gear upon and which was loose, ensuring a bleak doom to the depths of the cliff. Hiking was a slippery fight under the weak Colorado sun, and I became more endangered with every step. My crew had prepared 18 months for a smaller mountain that would have been uncloaked, but the both literal and figurative sudden combustion of our plans put us in contact with a greater, unexpected mission. Though scared to death of slipping and tumbling down to the ice baths hundreds of feet below, it was necessary to joke amongst ourselves of sledding our descent instead of hiking back down the mountain to calm our troubled minds.
Three-quarters of the way, I did not think I would make it to the top. I was beyond tired, sore and quickly losing motivation to continue after watching several other hiking parties surrender and turn around despite a partial climb. A more experienced hiker on his descent, however, raved about the impeccable cell service at the summit: a rare and treasured commodity out west. This promising query piqued my interest. Without much else to think about, I reminded myself that the rest of my family was enjoying a pleasant day at the beach with my grandparents, and I had not spoken to them in a week as a result of being, well,'on Edge'. My number one incentive became to phone home to bear witness to the astonishment on my family’s faces when they saw where I was. My amplified ambition pushed me to finish what I had started, and I made the most anticipated Facetime call of my life from the top of the world.
There I was, standing in the snow in the middle of June, looking down upon all of creation. From my hiatus, everything below looked immaculate, unscathed by mankind. It was the big picture moment where I realized how beautiful the world was. In addition, I trumped altitude sickness, kept both feet on the ground, and most importantly called my family. Had a fire not consumed our original destination and barred us from climbing Mt. Baldy, I would never have made this trek. Our crew conquered the second tallest mountain in the contiguous United States on short notice and with little preparation for icy terrain. Undoubtedly, the climb to the top of Mt. Elbert on the two week trip out west was the peak of all my travels.