14,255 Revisited

Photo by the ever lovely Lora Bierbaum!

It’s been almost 3 months since my last entry.

Titled “14,255”, I shared about our decision to hike (climb) Longs Peak with a group of friends and the need for this fat boy to get in condition. That was June 2, 2010.

Last Friday, August 27, 2010 we made it to the summit of Longs Peak.

It took us 18 hours, from the trailhead to the summit and back. It was a beast and the beast had us for lunch. I’ve spent the last day working on a trip report that I’ll post over on the Forums and link to from here, but I wanted to share via this Blog a few observations made throughout this process.

Training –

58 years old. Summer highs in SoTex average 100 degrees. The humidity stays around 80% on a good day. Let’s do the math:

100°(80%)*58 + 14259 = Wasn’t gonna happen² !!

The Plan -

As it became apparent that our lack of training & preparation made actually reaching the summit iffy at best, depression set in. We were climbing with 20 friends who were pulling for us to make it. Heck, the darn thing even was named with me in mind…Get Bill Up The Hill!  Who needs that pressure?? The thought of looking like a wimp in front of them was less than appealing. I began to toy with the idea of possibly missing our flight or getting lost on the way up or even shattering a leg in the Boulderfield as a way out. Too radical. Too painful. I had no other option but to give it a go.

The Surprise –

We made it.

All the way.

Up and down.

Without a doubt this was the most physically demanding, mentally challenging and emotionally draining thing I’ve ever attempted. I believe it was climbing partner Lori Smith who mentioned that she had heard climbing Longs was more painful than giving birth. I thanked God that I’m a man (please note the lower case “m” in “man”.  No further comments from you, dear reader, is required!).

The Heroes –

Everyone who even gave it a shot is a hero. There was a whole lot of stepping outside comfort zones that day. Michael (Smudge) posted a quote that kinda summed it upped for me…

”Most want to live vicariously through the confident, intrepid man, but nobody wants to saddle up and ride.” – John Sharp.

We rode.

Not really rode…that woulda been nice, but you get the idea.

The biggest “Heroes” for those that made it that day were Igloo Ed and Big Al. They guided 2 groups up to the peak. Al led us and hiked twice as far because he kept running ahead to check the route and then scurry back to help us through the hard spots. At the Narrows he actually teetered on the edge of the abyss to act as a buffer between Sandy & eternity. Crazy, crazy man. It was appreciated, but still…

The Community -

Could we have done it on our own? Maybe…maybe not. My money’s on the “maybe not”. We left the trailhead as a group of seven. We trudged 6 something miles to the Boulderfield  and joined up with the other group of day hikers and the group that had camped at the BF. If memory serves there were 19 that reached the summit from our group and 4 that for one reason or another held up at the Keyhole. The beauty of community is that everyone shared in the joy of the effort. The group that camped spent their evening filtering and bagging water for the day hikers. John greeted us with cookies and his huge grin. Both welcome sights. Mike & Stacey sent us through the Keyhole with a smile and a hug. Big Al & Ed led the way, motivated us and encouraged us to do things that we never would have attempted on our own. We picked each other up, cheered each other on, joked, shared food and drink, and pushed when a push was needed. Sandy & I had quit on our minds at least 5 or 6 times only to be kindly prodded on by Al. On the Homestretch only a few yards from reaching the summit, we  ran out of gas. As we peered up at the now unattainable goal we saw the members of Ed’s group cheering us on. The adrenaline rush got us to the top. The hugs and high fives and laughter healed the hurt and freshened the spirit!

Lessons learned – Since I’m still too tired to come up with a fresh perspective, allow me to borrow a quote that fellow summiteer (Not too tired to invent words, tho) Smilin’ John Swadley shared with us from Teddy Roosevelt:

“It’s not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

There.

That’s it.

Do it again?

Nope!

Okay…maybe once more.

Bp

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