Racer D

July 24, 2018:

The next morning I expect to wake up with sore feet and hips from yesterday’s hike up/down Maroon Peak. Despite the fact that my toes are sore, I pull on my boots and pack up my gear. We eat breakfast and get on the trail before 9am. We will climb up and over two passes today. I am pleasantly surprised that I can walk and hike without much pain. We stop at the first creek crossing to filter our water for the day and then continue our hike through the beautiful West Maroon basin.  Gaining altitude, we leave the creek behind and climb above tree line. Johnan is fresh and motivated.

The basin steepens as we climb higher. The wildflowers are amazing and we remind ourselves this is why we are here. No kidding – it is that gorgeous that you could forget you are carrying a 41lb pack and breathing like a race horse on the final sprint of the Kentucky Derby.

But we are not alone! Above treeline, the hikers on the trail are much more visible. It seems that everyone on summer break has heard this is an iconic hike. There are not an infinite amount of campsites available, and the nicer spots disappear in the order of arrival each day. For me (Ms. Competitive by nature), this is hard to swallow. It takes a constant grimacing smile from Johnan to remind me to slow down and that she is only willing to go as fast as the lungs will follow.

Fortunately, the wildflowers are abundant,

and beauty is around every corner. I am enjoying this part of the trip a lot.

As we get higher, the trail gives way to the red, crumbling rock that Cary and I climbed yesterday (we had joked about how we wished we could just beam ourselves here today instead of having to climb back down to camp only to climb back up the pass again the next morning).

Johnan and I approach the top of West Maroon Pass at 12,500ft.

It is 11:20am and we feel great. It is plenty warm for short sleeves, but we keep our long sleeve shirts on for protection from the sun which can be wicked at altitude. The valley of flowers below are a welcome sight.

We take a break at the first trail junction where some friendly hikers show us the turn to Frigid Air Pass. The sign is missing. Our instinct is to head down the hill because walking DOWN is so enjoyable after climbing up West Maroon Pass. But down would lead us to Crested Butte. So, we drop our packs and use the opportunity for a break and a well deserved lunch stop. Then, reluctantly, we turn toward the uphill route of Frigid Air Pass.

The wildflowers are just as stunning on this side of the pass, so we don’t seem to mind the gradual climb as we traverse.

Johnan is all smiles now, because the first climb is BEHIND us. We all comment on how magnificent it is, and this experience just can’t be matched back home. We are so remote and there is never any air traffic either.

We are still above treeline where the views are endless.

I find beauty everywhere and could walk forever on this trail.

It is 1pm now, and we don’t need to worry about missing this next trail junction. There is a sign! Actually, the entire trail so far has been marked great (with the exception of that one missing sign), and this just gives us a confirmation that we are on the right track.

One of our favorite times is break time. We take the load off and soak it all in.

Johnan lazily dreams about being at the top soon. The trail angles diagonally across the slope ahead. The pack of hikers has thinned out quite a bit since the morning, and I feel less of a need to rush and more of a need to enjoy all this beauty. I’m not sure where everyone went.

I am hoping Johnan doesn’t know I am taking as many pictures as I am. If she did, my camera might end up at the bottom of the mountain somewhere. It was pretty much nose to the dirt all the way up. For as much as West Maroon Pass was long, Frigid Air Pass was steep.

Persistence always wins out, and we all made it to the top, despite a few cuss words in general, directed at me.

We are standing at the summit of Frigid Air Pass, 12,415ft. It is 2pm as I glance off into the distance. I can see Maroon Peak where we climbed yesterday. It towers above the surrounding area, and I whisper, “One day…”

And now, the favorite part of most climbs is the return to lower altitudes. Sometimes a little steep…

but always with a spectacular view

and contrast!

It is places like this that remind me of how small we are and how big life as a whole really is. And to think, this is just a small blip on planet earth.

I just want to stay in the mountains forever with clean crisp air and  life abounding everywhere. It is surreal, and then out of the quiet, Cary starts singing, “My Bonnie lies over the ocean”, as a tribute to her late Granny, who use to sing it to her as a child. Cary told me that whenever she is in her happy place, she sings this song. This is a happy place for all of us. I listen quietly as we stroll down the trail toward our next camp for the night, her voice echoing in the otherwise still basin, my eyes fixed on Maroon Peak.

From here, it is pure enjoyment and all downhill to our next campsite. We are following the North Fork of the Crystal River to a campsite we hope to find in a meadow at the headwall of the creek where there is a waterfall.

We pass several nice spots before the falls, but keep on hiking until we find the steep switchbacks headed down to the base of the falls. There is a nice campsite tucked away off to the side of the trail that we are happy to claim as our own and call it a day.

Cary and I hike up to the falls from our camp on a small path resembling a game trail. However, the trail is not a game trail;  later that evening, another group passes by on their way to the falls.  It is the group we saw early morning on Day 1 when they were headed to climb Pyramid Peak. They are a church youth group camping below us on the lake and are now on the same schedule as us and headed to the same place to camp and climb at Snowmass. I talk to them about possibly joining their group on Day 4 when I attempt Snowmass Mountain. Cary will be headed home that day and I will need climbing partners. Dan, the leader, says, “Ok”, it if all works out and the weather is good.

There is more camping down below on the small lake where it is easier to access water for filtration, but we love our secluded spot up higher. We feel we have the entire mountains to ourselves.

After dinner, Cary and I hike back up to the falls. As I look back at the pictures, it sure looks inviting to jump in that water for a bath. But reality keeps you out of the chilly water, plus groups downstream drink from this runoff. It makes for some great pictures though, and some solitude.

I already put on my jammies and am ready for bed. We finished with just under 10 miles for the day, 2 passes, and a bazillion wildflowers. And as a bonus, I think Johnan is finished cussing at me for the day.