This is actually a very resounding, significant statement given last weekend's adventure.
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But first thing's first. It's been over a year since I've written. I wish I could say there was a hiatus because I've been out on crazy adventures. The truth is, I've simply been coming to peace with being by myself. It's been surprisingly lovely. I live alone and I come home to a dog that's super excited to see me. Sometimes, he decides to ingest my essential oils. Most of the time I love seeing him. My home has become my peaceful space. It's nice to be content. Plus, I have a no pants rule in my tiny studio. Good thing I'm the only one frequenting the place.
I have been on a few adventures. Not nearly as many as I would have liked to this year, but a couple panned out to be more than I had bargained for. Last weekend was one for the books (or the blog).
Since my last update, my best friend growing up, Nichole, moved to Colorado. It's been glorious. I love having her less than two miles away from me, always. It's so nice. Nichole naturally makes friends exponentially faster than I do, and was invited on a hut trip (I'll explain logistics in a minute) back in March with a group of 15 people. She promised me if there was an opening, she'd let me know. So fast forward to the beginning of October, and I was in. I was so stoked.
The logistics: What is a Hut Trip? This link describes it perfectly. It also happens to be based on the Fowler-Hilliard Hut, my accommodations for last weekend. Check it out, and you'll be SO Colorado. https://peaksandpassports.com/2013/08/05/so-whats-a-hut-trip/
In my own words though, a hut trip is a "Colorado thing", where we get crazy and reckless, hike to a remote location, and therein lies a hut. A lot of these huts were built around World War Two, for the army to practice sneaking up on soldiers at a high altitude. The huts are pretty awesome though. Although our hut didn't have running water, a legitimate bathroom or electricity besides light, it accommodates 15 people, had a huge kitchen and wonderful wood stove that kept us warm. It had an enormous bunk room that we avoided at all cost because it was so cold, we trudged the mattresses to the wood stove. But it was beautiful. The path there was not.
I was nervously anticipating this trek for at least a week. I had snowshoed once in my life (a short hike to Saint Mary's Glacier) and had never used my backpack for a righteous purpose. I felt like I wasn't ready, but at the same time, as ready as I would ever be. This is meaning I was terrified.
These are my snowshoes (lent to me by my kind, amazing coworker Kate) and my 65L Osprey pack, filled to basically the brim with the necessities: 36 tortillas, one pound of cheese, 3 liters of red wine, two books, soup, and layers on layers. Spoiler alert: Never read those books.
On the Friday of departure, I woke up at 6:05am (which is way before I wake up for work) anticipating a long day of snowshoeing. Let's be real. I was anticipating 5 miles in, about a mile of strenuous (but worth it!!) steep incline to the beautiful hut in the middle of the wilderness. Here's what followed.
Our drive to the trailhead was relatively uneventful. Caitlin, a friend of mine whom I had met through Nichole caravanned us, and Hallie and I were passengers. Hallie instantly became a soul sister of mine - both her and Caitlin were the two best friends I could have on this trip. The road trip consisted of some really depressingly placed songs on satellite radio, one that sticks out is 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls. We skipped over these, but looking back were they ominous? Maybe.
We get to the trailhead and strap in our snowshoes. We're ready for adventure. It's 10:30am. Surely we are getting to the hut by nightfall. This actually isn't even a question, more of a statement at this point.
We begin trekking. At this point, there is six of us (I'll call us the OG 6): Carissa, Eric, Leo, me, Caitlin, and Hallie. We are going at a decent speed. Decent for them, stealthy and aggressive for me but I keep up.
About 3 or 3.5 miles in, we see the trail markers we had been looking for. It tells us to take a sharp left turn....Into about 3 feet of snow, freshly lying upon a creek. We all immediately acknowledge that this is the steep incline we have all been waiting for, and in the end, it'll all be worth it, right guys?
We decide to attempt this steep incline. In 3 feet of snow. In snow shoes. Basically long story short, we are unsuccessful, a couple of snowshoes lost and all. So, we all reconvene at the trail marker. A couple of us want to keep going and persevere. Most of us just want to give up and drink in Leadville for the night.
At this time, snowmobilers pass us. They tell us, basically like angels in a dream "The hut is near! Take this path...Straight ahead, and then take a left. it's the long way, but it will only take you another hour and a half...Two hours TOPS!" A cat/groomer came and offered to take our packs to the point where we would have to take a left. Miracle! We took it as a wonderful sign. We would make it to the hut right around nightfall....... Or would we?
We start trekking. And the trekkers I started with were not trekking lightly, but I certainly was. I slowed down to the pace of a snail. I got to the point where 10 steps at a time was a victory. Turns out that can happen when you're close to 12,000 feet above sea level. So I'm taking my sweet time, and it's okay...Because the hut is only an hour and a half, two hours tops away, right?! It wasn't. I became so slow, and so tearful, and confused, because my blood sugar was probably extremely low. I began looking for places to crawl and sleep under. Then I sluggishly remembered I didn't have my backpack on, so therefore no sleeping bag. This reinitiated the panic, which led to me yelling for help to no avail, which led to me calling 911 to no avail, since I didn't have service clearly. I should also add a black crow flew over me. I felt absolutely no relief when that happened.
Probably less than an hour into this point, I heard help. Two voices behind me. I remembered that there were a few hikers that had started later on the trek were probably on our route as well. I didn't know their names, but asked if they had food. And thank the lord, that Cliff Bar probably saved my life. Lia and Eric came to my rescue. They were a part of my group yet I had not met them yet. They came to me, asked my name, knew I was a part of their group, fed me, and not even joking....They changed my socks. Took off my current boots and socks and helped get me into a dry pair. My real guardian angels. I got up, Lia took my snowshoes, and we trekked on. We trekked with the belief that the hut was just around the corner (it wasn't, I ended up having to put the snowshoes back on).
We kept on going. I remember telling Lia "I don't think I can do this, I'm too tired and too out of shape." -- this girl told me that's not an option, and that we were all going to get through it together. I love her for that. So we went. Having renewed energy (thanks Cliff Bar!) gave me a new perspective and I knew I could keep going. We eventually caught up to our crew. Our crew was lost. But we had a GPS, and we were all together at this point. I want to say it was 3 hours later of blazing new trails, but we finally made sight of the hut and we all made it there. ALIVE. IN ONE PIECE.
We made it there. Commence a sense of triumph, and gratefulness for being alive, and just a sense of community. It was beautiful. For over 24 hours, we communed, drank our weight in wine, made dinner for one another, and really just appreciated being alive in this world.
On Sunday when we left, a few of us opted to call (one person had service) a snowmobile company down at the trailhead to come get us. That was and adventure in and of itself. So thankful for Novaguides for getting us out of 2-3 feet of fresh snow on our way out of the Fowler-Hilliard Hut.
WE ARE ALIVE YOU GUYS!!!! LIFE IS LOVELY.
