Mountains and Civilizations: Out of Reverence for those High Places

"...Upward and forever upward..", George Mallory

Mountains rise up from the earth over tens of millions of years, and are torn down over tens of millions more.  Our greatest civilizations are but ant hills at their bases.  Or are they?  The oldest mountains are not the highest, toughest and rockiest of ranges.  The oldest are those with their tops ground to dust from ages of rivers of ice and winds whittling them down.  Some have risen and fallen, and been completely ground to dust like the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado.   Some of the youngest have risen from four miles beneath the ocean floor as two plates collided for over a half billion years.  Now they rise to nearly six miles above the ocean surface.  Sound familiar?

Some of humankind's oldest civilizations have risen out of the nothingness in deserts thousands of years ago.  They rose to great heights in their time, and fell to the ages.  Their bones still lie there in the way of great pyramids, castles, and cathedrals.  Now that they are gone many of us hold them in reverence and realize that they can teach us so much.  The youngest of civilizations, in the modern age, are the largest the earth has seen.  Are they still built from the same ingredients?

Many of the ancient civilizations, and some which still exist; have a reverence of nature.  Modern civilizations are built from the bones of the ancient ones, just as the highest mountains are built from  ancient ranges.  Yet the youngest of civilizations might disrespect nature the most.  Economic growth is good.  Should our stock market be based upon individual buying power and unlimited growth with no higher limit?  If it were really based upon permanence and the growth of happiness why is it that we tear down the mountains?

Mountains certainly have moving parts and grow larger until they succumb to natural forces and are ground to bits of sand.  There are fossil sea shells, millions of years old, from past environmental apocalypses found in the Himalayas.  We can learn so much from the history of a mountain.  Yet we drill for oil and frack for natural gas in them, decimating the very stuff they are built from.  In the past, and in the current age, we tear them apart in search of diamonds and precious metals.  Or we lop their tops off for coal to fuel the insatiable furnaces of that unbounded economic growth.  IS THIS REALLY SUSTAINABLE?  Does humanity really think that tearing down the greatest of natural monoliths is going to push us, "..upward and forever upward..?"  Really??

Mountains exist for millions of years yet a civilization which might not last another fifty has deemed itself worthy to tear apart the greatest of them, or blow them apart with forces much greater than dynamite.  What happens, even with the green revolution, when we run of resources?  "Reduce, reuse, recycle", not visa-versa.  The solution is simple.  Simplify your life.  "It's so easy to complicate it, but so difficult to simplify it." (Yvon Chouniard)  So out of reverence for those high places let's at least try..   "I'm pessimistic about the overall situation, but that doesn't mean that I can't be a small part of the solution.  I'd rather take that route than be a part of the problem." - paraphrased from Chouniard's philosophies.  Perhaps we can go forever upward, but not by taking the easiest route or the quickest one.  "How you climb a mountain is more important than reaching the top." - Chouniard.

There are many pathways to the top of a mountain, but there is only one best path.  It takes time to search for it.  It takes effort to find it.  It takes even more effort to map it out, and eventually make a go of it.  Don't measure a mountain by its' height.  Measure it by the difficulty of the route, the time it takes to climb, the methods use to get there, and ultimately what you can learn from it.  Challenge is enjoyable, it fulfills us and gives us happiness when to climb difficult peaks.  We learn from our failures and give it another shot from a different angle.  What if we literally applied these philosophies to the largest of environmental problems?  Wouldn't solving those trickle down to the very stones upon which society is built upon?  Consider that..

~Nick Whittemore (December 22nd, 2013)

Related Video about the power of simplicity: The Simplest Solution

Ten Rules for Mountain Wandering.

The ten rules I've come up with from my experiences of wandering in the mountains are:

1. Think about how much water you might need.  Bring double that amount.

2. Think about how much time you need to complete your trek.  Multiply that by at least 150%.

3. Figure out how hard you think it might be.  Overestimate that significantly. 

4. Think about all the stuff that you might possibly need beforehand, locate it, pack it, and then leave half of it behind.  If you don't, you either won't make it at all, or you'll end up dumping half your supplies on the side of the trail.

5. Bring a lot of lightweight layers of clothing for all types of weather, even for a short distance on a sunny day! Wear a hat. Wear sunscreen.

6. Eat a lot the night before, so that you don't need to bring so much food.  It's all about the weight you're carrying.

7. The more planning you do, the safer you'll be and the more you'll get out of it.  Unexpected weather changes are killers, or at the very least you'll end up lost and stranded.

8. Bring a small weatherproof camera. You'll want it! (No DSLR's.  iPhones on silent are acceptable.) Bring a friend or at least some pen and paper.

9. Don't run up the mountain, you'll miss a lot of the experience.  You'll also likely fall and get hurt.  Additionally, do remember to give large carnivorous animals plenty of space!

10. Take something away from the experience.  Learn from it.  (This is really the number one rule. The more practical advice just happens to be first.)  Don't do it just to impress others.  Take something away from it.  Likely what you learn won't be what you expected to learn.  

~Nick Whittemore (November 21, 2013)

Obviously there are hundreds of other good pieces of advice.  These are just some things that I've learned and ever since tried to stick with, and they've worked for me.

The Story of Longs Peak

"The Story of Longs", 22^nd of August, 2013.

At the summit 10:30 AM

I wake up at 1:15 AM a little less than 36 hours after having done my first 14er, Mt. Elbert.  I'm barely rested from my previous expedition.  Everything has been packed since 6:00 PM the previous day.  I roll out of bed and scramble around in the dark to find a healthy snack to eat before leaving.  I find an orange, and some whole grain crackers to eat.  I look out the window of my kitchen and see an almost full moon and the mountain that I am about to climb.  It hasn't really soaked in yet, what my partner and I are planning on doing.  I put on my Carhart pants, my hiking socks, three shirts, my Marmot climbing jacket, my thick mountain socks, my Merrel boots, my Subaru beanie, and my thick synthetic gloves.  I grab my backpack and my hiking poles, and fill my two quart sized Nalgene water bottles to the brim.  I pull an apple and some other snacks out of the fridge and stuff them into my pack on top of my rain jacket, my survival medical kit, and my waterproof/freeze proof camera.  It's about 1:45 AM now.  I turn the light on for the stairs, walk down and open the door.  My first greeting is the sound of coyotes and cold mountain air blowing down from the highest peaks.  I start to close the door, and realize that I've forgotten my keys and my sunglasses.  I leave my pack by the door, walk back up the stairs, and start trying to locate my keys in the dark so that I don't wake up my roommates.  I finally locate them, along with a few other items that I'd left off the list, and run back down the stairs to the car.  I put my bag in the back along with my hiking poles.  No sign of my hiking partner, Gardner, yet.  After a few minutes he comes out with his Columbia jacket, hat, and backpack.  I open the trunk and put the backpack in, and Gardner realizes that he's forgotten his gloves.  He runs back to his room to grab the gloves and some additional food, and I realize that I'd forgotten my head lamp.  The almost full moon is high and bright in the sky, but I know that it will be dark until we get above tree line.  We finally get around to heading out around 2:00 AM for a 20 minute drive to the trail head in the Outback, a good vehicle for this occasion.

On the way to the trail head, up on the road heading to Longs Peak, we encounter many animals.  First there was a large rabbit that crossed right after a switch back.  Then there were some squirrels and a flock of birds, and later we see a deer near the road.  I drive slowly up the mountain road towards the trail head at 9,500 ft.  We arrive 2:15 am.  We are beginning to realize what we are about to embark on.  Neither of us says a word to each other.  We don our packs, check everything out one last time, and head out for the unknown by the light of moon.  I decide to leave the hiking poles behind, a wise decision.  The moon is high in the sky, but obscured by some dark clouds.  Everything looks dark in the night.

We pass the sign at the trail head, warning of "quickly changing mountain weather".  We walk up the trail with our head lamps blazing on high.  This part is much less steep than the trail up Mt. Elbert that I'd done two days before.  It's around 2:40 AM the first time I think to check my watch.  We've only been gone around 20 minutes.  I'm satisfied though, because we've already covered a lot of ground.  I'd read in the pamphlet about the hike; that the first part isn't that difficult.  We keep going, and every 25 minutes or so we walk over to the edge of the trail and pull out our water bottles to take a swig.  We keep walking and fairly soon we're above tree line.  Along the way we are passed by a few people, but we pass just as many.  One guy stops and talks to us for a minute.  He says that he's attempted Longs before, but was chased off by the weather and his injured knee.  He also says that he has trouble with altitude sickness when he gets up real high.  We nod and wish him good luck, as he does the same for us.  We keep chugging along at what feels like a fairly reasonable pace.  After all we've been living in Estes Park, Colorado (7,500 ft.) for 3 months already.  We are adequately acclimatized for this expedition.

"By the Light of the Moon"

We keep on hiking and make it above tree line.  I look at my watch and it's about 3:30 AM now.  We take a quick break and keep heading upward.  The moon is our guide and the wind is at our back.  We travel quickly.  After a few more minutes we get to a fork in the road.  One sign says, "No short cutting," and the other says, ""Longs Peak," to the right, and "Chasm Lake," to the left.  We take the path to the right towards the peak.  After another hour or so, we stop for a long break at some boulders.  The elevation gain has been significant already.  We can look down and see the outline of trees in the dark.  We also witness a sea of snaking lights on the trail both behind us and ahead of us.  These are other climbers looking to complete the same physically exhausting task as we are.  After a few more minutes we keep on trudging ahead towards our first major obstacle, "the boulder field."  It's about 4:30 AM now.

The Boulder Field on Longs

After another hour and fifteen minutes, we reach the recognizable edge of the boulder field.  The trail starts to become rocky at first, and then gradually starts to disappear altogether.  We reach the edge of the camping area.  This is for those that have elected to take two days to climb the mountain, instead of doing all 16 miles at once.  We stop for a break at the camp.  The tent sites are all surrounded by short 3 foot high rock walls.  This is to help keep the mountain elements out.  In the distance, to the left, is a wall of crumbling granite.  To the right is an expanse of empty rough terrain covered by small boulders.  There are also two small buildings with solar panels on their roofs.  These are none other than solar powered toilets, for those in need of a last bathroom break before going through, "the keyhole."  It's about 6:30 AM now.  We look behind us and the sun is rising above the boulder field, beckoning us onward.

As we are climbing up towards the keyhole, the going gets tougher.  Finally when we get near it there is a round weather hut built into the solid rock wall.  We climb through the door, sit for a few minutes, and take a picture before getting up again.  We read the sign warning of the dangers that lie ahead beyond the key hole.  I can tell you after reading that sign, and climbing that mountain, that it is an understatement.  Beyond that point you venture into the unknown, the mountain gets steeper, and it gets wilder.  Finally we are at the keyhole.

"The Weather Hut"

Longs, "The Key hole"

It's about 7:00 AM now.  We climb through the keyhole and are immediately met by a 2500 foot drop off a ledge on the other side.  We look to the left and see a red circle with a yellow bull’s-eye in the center about two feet across.  These bull's-eyes will be our guiding beacons along the trail from now on until the summit.  We look and can see the next half mile of the trail.  It follows along this ledge at 13,000 feet above sea level, up and down constantly over and around boulders.  At some points we were hanging from metal spikes above certain death half a mile below.  Welcome to, "the ledges."

We keep on heading forward and forever upward, mind you it is also getting much more difficult to breath.  The air pressure is much lower here than at sea level.  The oxygen is starting to get scarcer, and we can feel it in every breath.  It's hard to move our legs up here.  Each step feels like we might be walking on the moon, and the terrain must not be far from it.  We keep climbing up and down the ledges and after at least an hour we can see "the trough."  The trough is a 600 foot tall ladder of loose boulders rolling down the back of Longs Peak.  It is a little after 8:00 AM now.

"The Trough"

We reach the trough and look up towards the mountain.  "How long do you think it'll take us?  About 45 minutes," my partner replies.  Well it actually took closer to an hour and a half.  Boulders four feet high went upward seemingly forever.  The higher we climbed, hands over knees, the tougher it was to keep going.  The air got thinner and we were more and more exhausted.  We kept on trudging along, and gradually we could see progress being made.  Loose rocks were dislodged and rolled hundreds of feet down the cliff.  Some of them landed near the lake thousands of feet below.  At this point, maybe because of fatigue, or maybe because of something else, I noticed that my mind was completely on the task at hand.  My body thought for itself, and things such as where to put my hand next, and which rocks were sturdy enough to hold my weight without being dislodged; ran through my head.  Finally we neared the top and there lied the next obstacle, "the notch".  The going just got tougher and tougher.  It was now 9:15 AM.

The notch was this boulder, fifteen or twenty feet high, lodged between two cliff faces ten feet apart.  It turned out to be one of the most formidable obstacles yet.  The sections thus far had been class II in the boulder field, and class III (any climbing that can be done un-roped) ever since the key hole.  The notch could have been labeled class IIII (requiring ropes) if it was any higher or longer.  The face of this giant boulder was almost completely smooth, except for a few thin indentations in the rock about a quarter inch deep.  They were just deep enough to get your finger tips and toes into place and push upwards to the next one.  Here my mind was completely into the task, choosing which point to go towards next, not even thinking about falling.  There was no time to consider falling.  If some unfortunate person were to stop and think, or not have enough confidence in his or her bodies’ choice of anchor, they would certainly fall.  I stood there studying the rock face for a few minutes, trying to decide where to start.  After all, I had never done this before.  I was inexperienced to say the least, and had no rope to help anchor me.  I pulled myself up a few times with my fingertips testing the hold out.  When I felt confident enough to give it a shot, I went for it.  I pushed upwards with my strong leg muscles, and pulled with my arms mainly to maintain balance.  I made it three or four feet off the ground and then slid back down, luckily to a standing position.  Just then an experienced climber, with a much lighter pack than mine, came up behind me and offered to help me get started.  He told me, "You need to have confidence in your body.  It knows where to go.  If you don't have confidence, that's when trouble lurks."  I set one boot into place and tested it.  I looked upward and studied the rock face again for a few seconds, and pushed upward.  I only had to stop once think about where to go next.  My body did know where to go.  I learned a valuable lesson.  If you don't have confidence in the task at hand, and full focus on it, then it becomes ten times more dangerous and difficult than it would have otherwise been.  I make it to the top where my partner was waiting, and was greeted by another 1500 foot drop a few feet in front of me, and a narrow ledge to the right snaking around a cliff.  This was “the narrows."  It was now 9:35 AM.

The narrows were not the most memorable part of the climb to me.  They were a set of high ledges with an enormous drop, which was even steeper than the previous sections of the climb.  It was very similar to the ledges except that it was even steeper and only a foot and a half wide in most sections.  We did see some other more experienced climbers that passed us along the way.  They stopped on a ledge just before the final section for a break.  We stopped and chatted with them for a few moments and discovered that one of the toughest parts of the entire climb was literally just around the corner.  The final section was called, "the homestretch".  The minute that I laid eyes on it, I was ready to turn around and forget the summit.  It was now 9:55 AM, and we'd been hiking and climbing for seven and a half hours now.  It just kept going on, and kept getting more difficult until it caught up to me, near the end.

I looked up and saw the steepest part of the climb right in front of me.  There were 400 feet of steep cliffs right in front of me.  Below the narrows, where I was standing, the cliffs kept going down as far as you could see.  Being afraid of heights, it was one of the most terrifying situations that I can remember being in since I was a kid.  My heart was pounding doubly fast now because of fear and the thin air.  I had a vague memory of a 15 story metal staircase in Mammoth Cave when I was a kid.  I visualized looking down through the grating of the stairs, a hundred and twenty feet down.  That was nothing compared to this situation.  

It was like a giant ladder over 100 yards high with uneven steps 5 to 7 feet high.  I watched as other climbers started their way up.  There were cracks in the rock that ran beside these nearly vertical steps.  At the top of each step there was an area to stand on while leaning into the cliff face.  I watched as Gardner started his way up.  Everyone that had made it this far was passing us now.  The climbers below our level, and most of the ones at our level, had turned around a long time ago.

I began to follow my partner up the cliff.  I had to stop and catch my breath every few minutes.  I kept on going and never looked down once.  I didn't go on auto pilot, but something close to it.  I concentrated on the route, as the yellow and red bull's-eyes could not be seen as clearly due to obstructed views from the cliff face and the sun.  As I reached the final 20 meters of climbing, I watched as Gardner climbed over the last stair and put his feet on the largely flat summit.  He looked back once to check on my progress, and then sat on a stone at the top to take a break.  It was 10:20 AM now, and I was less than five minutes from the top.  I kept going and climbed over the last stair.  For the first time I looked up into the sky to give thanks, and I noticed that grey clouds were beginning to obscure it.  I looked back and saw a cairn marking the end of the keyhole route and the edge of the summit.  I walked over utterly exhausted and sat beside my friend on a boulder.  I looked around and saw about 30 other people on the summit doing the same thing.  We were not alone in our endeavor. Our summit time was around 10:25 AM, eight hours after leaving the car 5000 vertical feet below.

Once we were up there we finally began to relax a little.  We talked with a climber that had been to Gardner's home island of Taiwan, and he spoke some Taiwanese with him.  I looked over the opposing edge of the peak, which was the opposite side from the one we had summited.  I looked down several thousand feet below and saw a crystal blue lake.  It was Chasm Lake.  It was quite a sight from up so high!  I was glad to be able to see that at least.  The grey clouds kept rolling in.  They obscured the possible 120 mile/360 degree view from the peak.  On the clearest of days you can supposedly see into Wyoming, and even to edge of Nebraska from the peak.  Not today though, not today.  It wasn't meant to be.  I got up and walked over to find the geographical marker; the small round metal disk that had been there over a hundred years.  The one that marked the exact summit of 14,255 ft., re-measured later at 14,259 ft. above sea level.  It was on top of a boulder 4 feet high near the center of the peak.  Gardner snapped a photo of it.

 We snapped photos of us next to it.  Then we saw a plastic tube tucked underneath the boulder.  We picked it up and it contained a paper book showing the names of climbers that had made it to the top in the past few weeks.  We were already on to the second page of the 22nd of August, 2013.  There were about 65 names ahead of us already that day.  There was a box for your name, for your state or country, and a half line space for a comment.  Gardner wrote something that maybe shouldn't be repeated here, but he was both excited and exhausted.  I simply wrote my life philosophy, "Life is like a Mountain Path!":D  This time I used an exclamation point and a grinning face to show my excitement in having done something like this.  I had wanted to do it for three years, and had planned on doing it for almost exactly a year.  It was a great confidence builder to complete a trek like that.  I'd put it up there as the toughest physical activity I'd ever attempted and completed.  It was harder than running 10 miles in the snow, and tougher than all those 6 hour, 90 degree, 85% humidity practices in high school marching band.  In fact, since I'm afraid of heights, I'd put it as one of the top two achievements (along with graduating from college) of the past 10 years of my life!  I quickly realized this wasn't the end of my day though.  This was only the halfway point.  Now we had to get back down.. It was 11:10 AM now.

I looked over the edge and down the ladder of the home stretch.  My stomach churned in my throat.  I put one foot over the edge and started my decent.  It was rough going; the opposite of going up.  My strong legs were not as useful going down.  I had to use my less conditioned upper body to lower myself.  I tried not to think of the three thousand foot drop.  The homestretch went fairly quickly though.  The narrows weren't too horrible either.  We got to the notch, and that was just as tough going down as it was going up.  I slid down slowly using my finger tips and boot heals to slow the decent slightly.  Now six feet of the trough was in front of us.  It was really awkward at first.  We kind of did the crab walk down the loose boulders to keep from falling.  Our arms were exhausted.  We were exhausted.  We had to stop every 5 minutes, sometimes sooner, to keep from running completely out of energy.

About half of the way down while lowering myself over a boulder, one of my water bottles wedged itself loose.  I could feel it slide out of the holster.  Luckily it was already empty.  It fell about thirty feet and bounced on a boulder, gaining speed, before bouncing over and over again down the mountains' back.  I watched silently.  Someone up above yelled, "Don't go get it!!", like I was ever really thinking about it.  It kept on bouncing until it was out of sight and I couldn't hear it anymore.  Eventually it must have rolled all the way down to the lake far below.  I'll never know.  I'm glad it was just a water bottle.  We kept on going.  It was almost 1:00 PM by now.

We made it to the base of the trough and only had the ledges to go before climbing through the keyhole into the class II boulder field.  The clouds were getting thicker by the minute, and we couldn't see as well anymore.  We picked up the pace slightly on the ledges, as much as we could anyway.  I had no desire of plummeting off the edge.  We went up and down following the bull's eyes, which we couldn't see as well from this direction.  We made it near enough to be able to see the key hole.  Almost all of the people were on their way down now.  We met a man looking for someone that had gone ahead of him.  He asked when we had left the peak.  We told him around 11:00 AM.  It was now almost 2:00 PM.  I never found out if he found the people he was looking for.  We were tired and kept on the decent.

We climbed through the key hole, and were on our way down the steepest part of the boulder field, when the clouds broke all hell on us.  There was thunder in the distance and then a little rain, which quickly changed over to hail.  I was just happy that we were finished with the climbing part and back down to the flatter boulder field.  However, there was no real trail through the boulder field.  We went down a little further holding our hands over our heads with our rain coats on.  The hail stung like bees.  Then we noticed that we couldn't see the far edge of the boulder field any more.  The fog had begun to roll in.  We quickened our pace since we had already left the weather hut up behind us.  The air started getting cooler.  We kept on going and the fog just got thicker.  We could no longer see the summit of Longs behind us.  We were disoriented, (not lost!) and stuck in the middle of a three quarter mile long boulder field.  We just walked and climbed over boulders for at least an hour, while it hailed on us.  The fog lifted a little after 3:00 PM.  We had gone in the relatively correct direction.  We were just off course a little.  At one point, while were disoriented, we think that we were somewhere on the edge of Storm peak.  Storm peak is one of the other lower mountains that straddled the boulder field.  We won't know where we were; ever.  But we made it out without being struck by lightning or frozen, or being "lost" and freezing to death.  Everything was good.  It must have been 3:45 PM by the time we made to the edge of the boulder field.

"Longs the Celebration", the next day.

It had been over 14 hours since the beginning of our expedition and we still were over 12,500 feet up.  It was easier going from here on out though.  The remaining sections were much less steep and were class I, mountain hiking trails.  We made it down below tree line at about 5:15 PM.  It looked like it was going to rain again and we sat down next to the first tall tree we could find.  We took a long break and drank our remaining water, not much, and had an apple each and some granola bars.  We got up for the last hour down to the trail head.  There were piles of hail in the trail that were several inches deep.  I was glad that we were way beyond the slippery boulders now.  Finally we turned the last switchback and could see the trail head.  We reached it.  It was 6:20 PM on the dot.  This was sixteen hours, and sixteen miles, after we had last seen the car.  I asked Gardner if he would ever do something like this again.  He replied with a resounding, "No!", and laughed.  

It was a good thing to do once, but neither of us had the desire to do it again anytime soon!  -August 22nd, 2013.

~ Nick Whittemore (October 30th, 2013).

~ Pictures by Gardner Nie & Nick Whittemore


A few of the things that I'll remember the most about this are things which occurred on the way down the mountain.

 I'll forever hear the bouncing of my water bottle down each boulder of the trough gaining speed, and growing fainter and fainter.  It will remind me of the stomach churning feelings of fear on the way down.  Secondly, I'll remember the flowers in the boulder field after the fog retracted, and the hail ceased.  I'll remember the haunting sound of the chilling winds on the ledges overhanging the two-thousand foot drop.  No matter how confident that you are, you can't really do things like this on your own.  If it weren't for Gardner I would have turned around several times.  It is a testament to the power of encouragement & teamwork. 

You never know what lies over the next mountain.

Mountains can certainly be deceiving, just like life.  Until you make it to the top of one, you can not tell what comes afterwards.  Mountains are the perfect analogy for life in so many ways, which has been what this blog has been about so far.  I don't know whether it will begin to turn in another direction now or not.  For now I don't think it will.  Here's a little story about three mountains that I hiked to the top of  about two weeks ago.  Their names were Chapin, Chiquita & Ypsilon.  

Chapin you seemed like nothing when I looked up at your peak from the dirt road below.  I knew that I would make it there in under an hour.  Mountains can be deceiving.  I hiked for an hour and I was still only halfway up to the top of the first mountain.  The rocks were slippery with ice and it was slow going.  At one point I even lost the path and had to scramble up the side.  It was difficult going on slippery rock.  Finally when I made it to the top I could see what lied ahead, Mt. Chiquita.  However, I didn't realize that I had to descend 500 feet down the other side before starting the climb up Mt. Chiquita.  

Mt. Chiquita you seemed somewhat more daunting than Chapin, but nothing I couldn't handle.  (This is what I thought as I stared up 1000 more feet to the top.)  I looked up and saw a bird, maybe an eagle, riding the currents over the peak of Mt. Chiquita.  I wanted to be up there now more than anything!  I thought it might take me half an hour to make it to the top.  It really didn't look that far...  I think it ended up taking me another hour to the top.  When I made it to the top of Mt. Chiquita (definitely tired by this point), I could see what lied ahead, Ypsilon Mountain.  I had to go down the other side of Mt. Chiquita some 800 ft. before attempting Ypsilon, which was the highest mountain in the area.  

Ypsilon you looked challenging and difficult from the ridge below.  Almost 1500 ft. of steep terrain lied ahead.  I looked up and up and decided that I would not underestimate you as I had with the first two lower mountains.  I had already learned something that day.  Don't underestimate a mountain under any circumstances!  I started to climb upwards and every few cairns I had to stop to catch my breath.  The going was tough.  Up until this point, this was the highest I had been with my feet still on the Earth.  (13,500 ft.)  I learned to measure a mountain this day in terms of terrain difficulty, hours, and elevation.  The miles didn't matter much to me.  When I finally made it to the top, I looked over and saw another mountain, I looked down and saw other mountains and I looked back and saw still other mountains. 

I had asked myself that day, "What lies over the next mountain?", and I had learned that many times it is another higher mountain.  This may not always be the case, as it might be a low peaceful valley that lies below.  The challenges that we face in life seem to just get tougher and tougher like those mountains.  After a while though, sooner or later, you will come to a peaceful valley far below.  

  

"Longs", (August 22nd, 2013).

"Longs", (August 22nd, 2013).

Longs, I knew one day that I would stand upon your lofty peak,
Longs, I dreamt that once upon your top I would climb up into the clouds on ropes hanging from heaven,
Longs, I obsessed that you were majestic and beautiful, but also harsh and uncompromising,
Longs, I desired for a over a year to make it to your top.

Longs, you were the most physically exhausting feat of human endurance in my life,
Longs, you were one of the most mentally challenging obstacles I've had to overcome,
Longs, you threw rocks down at me; but I persevered.
Longs, you buried me with hail, and you hid me from the trees ( in the fog); but I prevailed.

Longs, I found my way in the dark through the trees by the light of the moon,
Longs, I followed the signs you left me to your crumbling back,
Longs, I walked across the boulders rolling down your side,
Longs, I made my way by sunrise up through your keyhole,
Longs, I walked upon your backbone and stared two thousand feet down your side,
Longs, I climbed hundreds of feet upon your fragmented face,

Longs, I stared down to your feet below, 
Longs, I feared that I might meet the many that you had taken along the way,
Longs, I knew that you were a dangerous foe!
Longs, I counted the number of missed steps that I made, (few)
Longs, I stood upon your top for but a few short moments in the clouds, 

Longs, you were my enemy,
Longs, you were my greatest challenge,
Longs, you are a mighty mountain,
Longs, you were my Everest!

Longs, you were worth climbing once in my life just to learn my own weaknesses and strengths.
Longs, your views were splendid, and despite your menacing disposition, you were gratifying.

- Nick Whittemore (August 27th, 2013)

Friends

One of the best things about all of the time that I have spent in Colorado is all of the great people that I have met and have the opportunity with which to work.  I am excited every year to meet new people, and see friends from previous years.  It is such a great experience to meet people from all over the world and spend time together in one place. It's really because we all are looking for an adventure of some sort.  It's the mountains that inspire us to these ends.  Some of us will remain friends through the years, and some of us will undoubtedly loose touch with one another.  It's just the natural process of things.  Where else can a group of people from all over the nation and from all over the world stay together together and have this much fun?  At work sometimes we might get on each other nerves, but it's all good in the end.  We have our differences, but that doesn't have to be a negative issue.  Most of the time we are either working hard, or out having a good time in the little mountain town of Estes Park. It's really such an experience and I'm certainly thankful for that.  

In the mean time, I can't wait to share more adventures this season with all of these great people! :) Hopefully one of those adventures will be to summit Longs Peak.  It's been almost 15 months since the idea popped into my head that I wanted to summit Longs Peak, and I still haven't even set foot at the base.  Last year I merely ran out of time here in Colorado to attempt it. There was this emptiness in me because I hadn't given it a shot. I had to come back and climb it.  Now here I am a week shy of the same time last year when I planned on doing it, and I am sick again!  Grrrr!  I hope that I will be feeling better by my coming weekend, Tuesday August 13th, to give it a shot.  The weather has to hold of course, and I have to be well enough to attempt it, and I need to have the energy to make it to the top.  Maybe all of these great people around me will help me out this week, (they have been all season!).  That would be nice.  :)  I am getting a little tired of my job here in Colorado for the first time in the four seasons.  I sure hope that there will be a reward waiting for me at the summit, in the form of something great, that will inspire me to keep going out and exploring.  I hope that the people here will be able to help me out on the next chapter of my life, whatever that might be!  ;)

The Wild Hunt

The sun rises against the mountains,
And I wake prepared for something new,
Something that I have experienced before.
A challenge, a risk, an adventure.

There is something within all of us that calls us to take risks,
Why do men choose to risk their lives to climb mountains?
It's not really to get to the top.
It's not because we have to prove something to ourselves.
It's not even because we want to say that we did it.

We really gain nothing significant from climbing a mountain; running 
a marathon; or any other endurance sport out there.

We climb mountains to better ourselves.  We run races to strengthen our spirits.  We go on adventures to bring back great stories of our super-
human feats, but also to learn our own weaknesses.  

The wild man in all of us drives us to seek something greater than our own feeble and insignificant selves.  Men climbed Everest to see if it was really possibly to do so.  Men landed on the moon to prove a point to the world, that humans are capable of more than war and the destruction of our planet.

The wild man drives us to hunt for ways to achieve greatness.  Every truly great human knows that they didn't land on the moon for himself, or climb Everest for herself, or sail around the world for themselves... It was for all of mankind that they did it.  

They were the ones that went on the wild hunt for something bigger and something better for everyone else.  And even the unsuccessful ones drive us to dream and think of better ways to live.  They all were flawed and so are all of us.  At least they took the risk to search for something better.  Whatever that might mean for the rest of us.

The Wild Hunt (Summer 2013) ~ Nick

Title inspired by the song "The Wild Hunt" by "The Tallest Man on Earth"

It's been a ride so far.

This season has been a great season so far!  I've really been enjoying spending time out west in the mountains yet again.  I have had the chance to meet a lot of great people from around the country and catch up with some old friends that are back for the new season. It's been a ride so far ups and downs from missing people from previous to meeting great new people this year.  I've done a fair amount of good hiking already this season, and my goals still include my first ascent of Longs Peak.  I can't wait to give that a try in about a month or so from now.  I am looking forward to it with anticipation and also a little bit of apprehension.  I read in one of the guide books that was left in my apartment that the about 10,000 people attempt to make it to the top, and only about 3,000 or 30% succeed.  That's not a great success rate, since it's really just a long hike and not a serious mountain climb.  That is unless a person decides to make it into a serious mountain climb!

Another thing that I am looking forward to in the next month is getting to know the new Taiwanese.  They seem friendly enough, as always, now that they are all here in Colorado. I want to attempt to pick up a little Mandarin this summer.  It is supposedly one of the toughest languages for English speakers to learn, but it is still "possible" if you ask me.  Benson, one of my buddies from last year, sent me some Chinese calligraphy rolls to hang outside my door.  They are supposed to bring good luck and happiness to all who dwell with in.  Maybe they will bring luck on Longs Peak.  I think I'll need it!

To prepare for Longs Peak I've made a list of hikes that I plan on doing before and after it.  So far, there are 15 hikes on the list.  That means that I will be hiking almost everyday of every weekend for the next few months.  They range from a moderate 7 miles to an extremely difficult & grueling 18 miles.  Along with these hikes I plan on starting my running schedule within the next few weeks.  Things feel like they are starting to come together already but it's been a ride so far!

Mountain Photo Gallery

I've been in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado for almost a month now.  I've already had a lot of adventures and fun times out here with both old friends and new ones.  I am excited to be back again!  I wanted to post the link to a photo gallery I have been building through Flickr. Here it goes!  We'll see if it works...

Lifeisamountainpath Photo Gallery

Snow! ... In May?

The snowfall in Rocky Mountain National Park this year was under average until about a month ago.  In the past month and a half several "feet" of snow has fallen in the park.  This made for an exciting dig out of the Trail Ridge store during the past week and a half.  

Two days ago, we were finally all ready to open up the store and start welcoming the hundreds of tourists to the Alpine Tundra.  That plan failed when the park service decided that our company should not open the store before they had the visitor center open.  There was no explanation included; logically it may have been a legitimate concern for the safety of the visitors, because the ranger station has EMT's present when operating.  So, at two o'clock, on Tuesday, I got the word back in the cafe' that we weren't going to open that day.  We haven't been back up the mountain since.

Yesterday, a cold front rolled in and the road was closed due to intense fog and ice.  It rained down in town yesterday, but I was able to walk to the downtown area and find things to do in the afternoon.  Today, I was all ready to go but it was still foggy outside.  I went to the EDR for lunch and written on the board was, "Snow Day! ... Again."  Then the wind picked up in the late morning.  It gusted at up to 60 mph, but had a sustained wind of almost 40 mph all day long.  The fronts here seem to just get stuck on top of the mountains.  

Tomorrow, I am hoping that the store will really open.  We all are hoping for this.  It's alright to have a day off when the weather is great, but it's much different situation when it's not; especially without a car.  I am ready to go to work tomorrow and witness the fog lifting off the mountains to reveal a bright sunny sky and the majestic peaks which can be seen for miles away.  However, there have been reports of snow up on top.  I am not looking forward to anymore shoveling.  Whoever heard of, "Snow!... In May?".

The Dig Out

This year the dig out of the Trail Ridge store reminds me of two years ago, only this time there is less snow.  

It has been a tiring few days from all the strenuous snow shoveling and stocking of boxes.  I feel like I have been getting in much better shape though lately.  Combined with all the walking and hiking that I have done in the past several days, I have been burning off those calories!  

The snow is so deep!  However, the pit is coming along.  That's the area where the snow was piled the highest.  The top of the building was barely visible over the snow piles.  I think that everyone here is working hard, and working together.  I expect it to be a very successful season for everyone overall!  The progress is very visible.  It's amazing the amount of snow that there is out there!  I am starting to get more and more excited for when the store actually opens (which should be Wednesday, May 29th).  I am keeping my fingers crossed that all goes that way.

However, I have been thinking lately about how much I will miss some of the friends that I made from last year.  I think that it was a very nice season last year.  Really, I don't expect to ever be able to replace the people that I met from last year.  I am just hoping to meet a lot of new people.  It's such an amazing place to work here in Rocky Mountain National Park!  One of the only negatives about this job is that I make so many friends and then I don't get to see most of them again.  

Well, there are going to be several more days filled with hours and hours of snow shoveling.  I plan on posting updates periodically through out this summer.  Especially when I start more hiking and adventuring in the park!

  

"I've got a Rocky Mountain High" (Season #4)

I've been in Colorado now for five days.  I'd forgotten how much different life is here.  There really is not much to worry about.  The people are nice.  The place is great.  The scenery is beautiful.  There are people from all over the United States and from all over the world.  Sometimes it seems surreal.  It's such a great atmosphere to be in.  I remember the past seasons now, and I remember the people and the experiences from before.  I miss those people and experiences a lot.  It is a different type of life here, but it is also one which is in constant evolution.  Every season is different.  Last year I lived with a guy from my home town in Indiana.  This year I am living with two guys from Wisconsin and one from upstate New York.

One of the best things about being out here again in Estes Park, Colorado is that there is always something to do.  If I ever say that I am bored out here, then there must be a major problem!  The place must have lost it's magic.  There's always something to do.

If I am not working up on the mountain then that means it's my day off.  If it's my day off I can go hiking on any of the trails that I haven't already completed for a new experience, or I can go hike a trail that I have done before and experience something new on it.  If perhaps I am not in the mood for a hike (rarely true) than I can go into town and walk the strip where the shops are.  Sometimes I might feel just like going for a walk into town or around the lake.  This season I have already walked into town several times with some coworkers.  A good walk can serve the purposes of both helping me to get in shape and learning more about the people that I work with here in this resort town.

One of the things that I am most looking forward to this summer is when all of the foreign workers come.  They naturally tend to be some of the most interesting people here to me.  I am not sure if it's their unique style of doing things, their cultural stories, or somethings else that makes them so interesting.  It might be that most of them have such good manors, much better than even the friendliest of Americans.

This season I've already set a few goals for myself while I am in Colorado.  One of them is to hike to the top of Longs Peak.  It's something that most people that visit Rocky Mountain yearn to do.  Few of those people attempt it, and only a small number are successful in making it.  That means it's a challenge.  It must be as challenging mentally as it is physically to complete a hike which gains almost a mile in elevation.

Another of my goals, which honestly I am not wholeheartedly into yet, is to start running again.  There are several coworkers out here in Rocky that are joggers and runners.  I've watched them over the past several seasons and wondered what it was like to run along the road towards the mountains, or jog the trails near the property in Estes.  We'll see if this goal ends up being important or not.

The other goals are to come away with new friendships and relationships and have a positive experience that I can carry into the next stage of life.  I should not make the mistake of saying that I won't be coming back for season number five.  I do not know that at this point, and that's alright, because right now, "I've got a Rocky Mountain High"

Return to Rocky

I am excited to announce that I will  be returning to Rocky Mountain National Park again this summer!  I think that it will be a great time again seeing all of the people that I already know from the area, as well as new people that will be coming from all over the world.  I expect it to be a great summer and fall season again.  I will not be heading out there for another few months.

When I get there look for more posts about mountains (because that's what is in Rocky Mountain National Park), and some other stories and photos.  You never know where life will take you and you can't really afford to ever count any possibilities out completely.

~Nick

Rocky Mountain National Park Webpage

Majestic Mountains

Majestic Mountains

From the bottom so tall,

The majestic peaks rise above the horizon,

In the distance,

Across the open plains,

I can see them for miles…

As I near they only appear to rise up and up,

Further and further into the heavens,

Snow caped peaks in the spring time,

It is late June,

I can still see the snow on the mountain tops,

It must be cold I think to myself…

Finally I reach one,

Looking up,

I can not see the top,

It rises to high,

Above the clouds,

I begin to walk,

I find myself out of breath,

I stop for a minute to listen to the wind…

The leaves rustle,

The sun shines bright and warm,

It is still warm outside…

I hear birds chirping in the trees,

The clouds are receding; and the sun seems more bright,

I continue walking,

I begin to feel a cool breeze,

The trees are thinning,

There is an opening up ahead…

I continue walking,

I have to stop more often; in order to catch my breath,

The land is now rocky,

The earth is hard,

I look down to see the trees far below,

I look upward to see something moving…

I continue walking,

I begin to slow down,

There is something ahead,

An animal of some type…

As I near, I see that it is not one, but many,

Sheep,

Big horned sheep,

Sunning themselves on the rocks above…

I continue onward,

There is a sea of green when I look back,

The evergreens that seemed so tall,

Look miniscule in the distance.

I continue to climb,

Climb I must,

It is beginning to get later in the day,

The sun is now overhead,

I still can feel its’ warmth.

The breeze is growing stronger,

The sun seems even more bright overhead…

Finally I glimpse the top,

Just a little farther,

I can see it ever nearer,

On the horizon up ahead,

I continue walking,

The rocks beneath my feet are smaller than before,

As I near my goal,

Dark clouds begin to appear,

They seem to be rolling quickly,

Across the plains below…

I continue,

The ground begins to level out,

I can see other mountain tops all around…

I have reached it,

The top!

I stand for moment,

The breeze has turned chilly,

There are patches of snow all around,

I look downward,

The trees are tiny,

They look like a sea of green moss below,

I look outward,

In the near distance I see other peaks rising,

Some of them must be higher than the one upon which I stand.

I look further outward,

Into the far distance,

I can see the grayish plains below,

Lakes dot the mountains like ponds,

But they are so blue…

I continue to scan as far as the eye can see,

There is something fuzzy in the distance,

Sticking up just slightly from the ground…

Could it be?

The city from whence I came?

It seems so small and insignificant,

How can men think so much of these things?

They will fall.

The mountains will remain.

I hear a rumbling in the distance,

I look behind me,

I see dark clouds nearing…

I know my time is up,

I turn back and look at how far I’ve come,

I begin hiking rather quickly,

Rushing towards the bottom; in order to outrun the storms.

As I walk,

I risk a glance behind me,

The mountain is still there,

It’s still big,

It’s still rocky,

But I remember what it was like,

To look out,

Upon the plains,

Upon the mountain ranges,

With the sun so bright,

Shinning overhead,

And the breeze so strong and chilly,

I continue to walk,

The storms begin to get closer.

Will it rain?

I remember,

The rain had once passed by,

On to another peak I suppose.

I reach the bottom,

I am thirsty,

I am utterly exhausted,

The muscles in my legs burn,

I think to myself was it worth it?

It begins to rain,

I seek shelter underneath an overhang,

I look outside at the darkening sky,

I wonder what to do next.

Then as soon as it started,

The clouds part,

The sun reveals its face,

So bright and warm,

The sky becomes blue again,

As it always was.

I look at the clouds as they part,

And witness something,

Amazing.

A rainbow had appeared…

I continue to watch the scene unfold,

Another rainbow appears,

A double rainbow,

Could it be a sign?

The scene is beautiful,

the rainbows overarching the valley,

The lakes and streams among the green grass,

This is it I think,

This is what I have been looking for,

Then it begins to fade,

The clouds depart completely,

I look up once more,

To see the mountain from whence I had come,

My heart is there,

I left it up top,

I long to go back for it….

The sun is getting lower on the horizon,

Soon it will be behind the peaks,

I look to the flat plains,

The grey and unassuming plains,

I think to myself,

I must return to the city,

Why??

I must let someone know,

What I have experienced,

I must tell them about the mountain top,

I must let them know what I could see,

I must show them how small and insignificant the city seemed,

From so high above,

And most of all I must return to the top,

For that piece of me must be retrieved,

The part of me I left up there in the clouds.

I long to return,

But it must wait for another day,

On top the mountain.

-Nick Whittemore (Feb. 2012)