Trail & Timberline #1026

VETERANS WALK OFF THE WAR 22 • 14ERS BY BIKE 26 • HIKING THE HIGH SIERRA 30 • HAUTE ROUTE 34

TRAIL &

TIMBERLINE The Colorado Mountain Club • Spring 2015 • Issue 1026• www.cmc.org

ON THE

TRAIL

TALES OF LONG-DISTANCE ADVENTURE

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Letter from the Executive Director The World's Best Long-Distance Hiking Trails

n this edition of Trail & Timberline we focus on our members’ experiences hiking some of the many long-distance trails in the US and around the world. Here in Colorado we are fortunate to have two premier long-distance trails in our backyard: the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail stretching from the Mexican border to Canada, and the Colorado Trail winding its way from Denver to Durango.

The Colorado Mountain Club has a history with both of these trails, with particularly deep roots in the Colorado Trail. Dating back to 1974, one of the CMC’s long-time leaders, Gudy Gaskill, was at the forefront of the development of the Colorado Trail. Likely not knowing exactly what she was signing up for at the time, Gudy volunteered to lead the planning and construction of this newly conceived and daunting trail project, the likes of which had never been seen in our state. Gudy and other CMC members through the 1970s and ‘80s worked tirelessly on funding, permitting, and construction of the trail—until the last segment of the nearly 500-mile trail was dedicated in 1988.

At about the same time, the Colorado Trail Foundation spun off from the Colorado Mountain Club and today remains the driving force behind the trail, with its nonprofit headquarters located at the American Mountaineering Center in Golden just down the hall from the CMC offices. Gudy’s monumental work on the Colorado Trail not only led to the creation of Colorado’s premier long-distance trail, but eventually to her induction into the Colorado Women’s Hall of Fame, recognition by two American presidents, and countless other awards and recognitions. Gudy remains involved in the Colorado Mountain Club today at the age of 88.

I myself have been fortunate to work on the development of trails over the years, having served as the Regional Trails Manager for Boulder County, and then as a planner for the National Park Service, both amazing experiences. What I’ve always found most compelling about trails is that they serve as the single

most critical resource to allow the public to see and experience the public lands of our country. Whether you’re a hiker on Mount Bierstadt, a mountain biker on the Monarch Crest, or a fisherman on the Fryingpan River, a trail allowed you access to that special place.

As important as developing new trails is to our members, maintaining those trails should be just as important, particularly during this time in history when so many visitors are accessing the backcountry. Even before Gudy Gaskill began her Colorado Trail work, the CMC was an organization that advocated for trails and served as a leader in the conservation and maintenance of those trails. We strive to continue that legacy today. I hope in 2015 you’ll consider volunteering for one of the many CMC stewardship projects being led by our staff in the State office or through several of the CMC Groups. For more information on how to get involved with a re-

warding trail project this year, please contact Heather MacSlarrow, Director of the CMC Lands Department, at HeatherMacslarrow@ cmc.org.

As the hiker Elmer Adams said in his 1939 memoir, Walking in the Clouds, “The ideal mountain trail is one which has no end.”

We at the Colorado Mountain Club couldn’t agree more.

See you on the trails,

Scott Robson Executive Director Trail & Timberline

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18 The Hike that Rekindled my Passion

30 Hiking the High Sierra

22 Two-Footed Therapy

34 High on the Haute Route

Escaping quiet desperation on the Colorado Trail

By Willow Belden

Veterans walk off the war on the Continental Divide Trail

By Liz Thomas

26 Prepared for the Unexpected A solo journey of the 14ers by bike Interview with Justin Simoni

A daily dose of beauty on the John Muir Trail

By Blair Johnson

A CMC Adventure Travel trip to the Swiss Alps

By Denise Snow

38 Ice, Ice—Maybe

My 13-year journey to summit Ice Mountain

By Woody Smith

Spring 2015 Trail & Timberline • Issue 1026 • www.cmc.org

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Departments 01 Executive Director’s Note 06 On the Outside 08 Mission Accomplishments

Learn the latest from the membership, conservation, and youth education departments, as well as news on the Ellingwood and Blaurock awards and updates from the CMC Press and the State Board.

14 Around Colorado

Find a local CMC chapter or winter school.

34 On the Cover

16 Safety First Navigation tips for hiking on trails.

By Joe Griffith

42 CMC Adventure Travel

Want to get away? Wander the world with your friends at the CMC on these classic trips.

45 End of the Trail

Remembering those who have passed.

Northeast of Stony Pass, along the Colorado Trail. Robert Walker

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TRAIL & TIMBERLINE

The official publication of the Colorado Mountain Club since 1918.

Editor Sarah Gorecki editor@cmc.org

Designer Jessica D. Case Advertising Sales

Kyla Gallagher advertising@cmc.org

Volunteer Editors Jodi Jennings Sherry Richardson

The Colorado Mountain Club 710 10th Street, Suite 200 Golden, Colorado 80401 303-279-3080 The CMC is a 501 (c)(3) charitable organization.

www.cmc.org The Colorado Mountain Club is organized to ▶ unite the energy, interest, and knowledge of the students, explorers, and lovers of the mountains of Colorado; ▶ collect and disseminate information regarding the Rocky Mountains on behalf of science, literature, art, and recreation; ▶ stimulate public interest in our mountain areas; ▶ encourage the preservation of forests, flowers, fauna, and natural scenery; and ▶ render readily accessible the alpine attractions of this region. © 2015 Colorado Mountain Club

All Rights Reserved

Trail & Timberline (ISSN 0041-0756) is published quarterly by the Colorado Mountain Club located at 710 10th Street, Suite 200, Golden, Colorado 80401.

Periodicals postage paid at Golden, Colorado, and additional offices. Subscriptions are $20 per year; single copies are $5.

POSTMASTER: Please send address changes to Trail & Timberline, 710 10th Street, Suite 200, Golden, Colorado 80401.

Advertisements in Trail & Timberline do not constitute an endorsement by the Colorado Mountain Club.

Please recycle this magazine.

Printed on 10% post-consumer waste recycled paper.

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For Members member benefits

→ Join us on over 3,000 annual trips, hikes, and activities in the state’s premiere mountain-adventure organization. → Expand your knowledge and learn new skills with our schools, seminars, and events. → Support our award-winning Youth Education Program for mountain leadership. → Protect Colorado’s wild lands and backcountry recreation experiences. → Enjoy exclusive discounts to the American Mountaineering Museum. → Travel the world with your friends through CMC Adventure Travel. → Receive a 20% discount on all CMC Press purchases and start your next adventure today. → It pays to be a member. Enjoy discounts of up to 30% from retailers and corporate partners. See www.cmc.org/benefits for details. → Receive the Shared Member Rates of other regional mountaineering clubs and a host of their perks and benefits, including lodging.

Visit cmc.org/Join/MountainClubPartners

Give

Your support helps our programs reach new heights! Give online today at cmc.org/support.

Make your support last all year by becoming a Peaks Partner with a recurring donation of $5 or more per month. Sign up today at cmc.org!

Charitable bequests of any amount help ensure the sustainability of CMC for generations to come. A planned gift does not need to be large to make a difference. Learn more about the 21st Century Circle at cmc.org.

For questions about donations, workplace giving, gifts of stock, or planned gifts, please contact us at give@cmc.org or 303.996.2752.

Volunteer Efforts

If you want to share your time and expertise, give back to the club by volunteering on a variety of projects, from trail restoration to stuffing envelopes. Visit www.cmc.org/volunteer for a complete listing.

Contact Us

Our Membership Services team can answer general questions every weekday at 303.279.3080, or by email at cmcoffice@cmc.org.

The Colorado Mountain Club thanks the Scientific and Cultural Facilities District and its citizens for their continuing support. www.scfd.org

The Colorado Mountain Club is a proud member of Community Shares of Colorado.

It PAYS to be a member! ▶ 40% off admission at the American Mountaineering Museum

▶ 20% off titles from The Mountaineers Books

▶ 10% at Neptune Mountaineering, Boulder

▶ 10% at Bent Gate Mountaineering, Golden

▶ 10% at Wilderness Exchange Unlimited, Denver

Not a member?

▶ 10% at Mountain Chalet, Colorado Springs ▶ 10% at The Trailhead, Buena Vista

▶ 10% at Rock'n and Jam'n, Thornton/Centennial Visit www.cmc.org/join Trail & Timberline

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On the Outside Sunrise at Moon Gate above Machu Picchu on the Inca Trail. Dan Orcutt

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Mission Accomplishments Forty-Year Members Live Lives Inspired by the Mountains

By Brenda Porter, Director of Membership and Adventure Travel

“NOW I SEE THE SECRET OF MAKING THE BEST PERSON: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.” Walt Whitman described long-time CMC members perfectly in that statement.

Richard Burroughs, 94, is a 77-year member of the CMC. He is currently our longestterm member! He joined the Denver Juniors Group in 1937 as a 16-year-old and climbed 41 of the 14ers by his 21st birthday. He said he didn’t bother to finish the list because the remaining peaks were “boring.” Instead, he focused his energies on Longs Peak, climbing it twice a year for 40 years, more than 90 times in all!

CMC has a special 40-year membership: once a member reaches 40 years, they receive free membership for the rest of their life. Currently we know of 300 people who have been members for 40 years or more. That’s a minimum of twelve thousand “member years!”

Our long-term members have participated in all that the CMC has to offer and many have stepped up to volunteer over and over again, teaching, leading, and serving in leadership roles.

As Membership and Adventure Travel Director for the CMC, I have had the great fortune to connect and work with a number of our 40-year members. They are my role mod-

els in how to live great lives inspired by the mountains, among a community of CMC friends. Many of our members are physically active into their 80s and 90s. And, even if injuries or physical challenges restrict climbing and hiking, they find other ways to stay engaged with the CMC community.

Richard Burroughs told me recently he would like to stop by the CMC office to share more stories of his years with the Club.

I love hearing from all of our members! Please contact brendaporter@cmc.org or 303-9962748 to share your CMC chronicles. △

Madeline Framson: Legendary Accomplishments

By Brenda Porter, Director of Membership and Adventure Travel

Madeline Framson, right, from the RMNP photo archives. Photo courtesy of Kyle Patterson, Public Information Officer/Management Specialist

ACCOMPLISHMENTS ARE IMPORTANT to people who climb mountains. In a club made up of thousands of energetic mountaineers and hikers, CMC’s membership includes many people with significant achievements. Yet Madeline Framson is a legend among achievers. She is exceptionally committed to achieving results in growing and sustaining the Shining Mountains Group of Colorado Mountain Club, as well as making sure the Club contributes to Rocky Mountain National Park.

Madeline joined the CMC in 1980 and since then she has contributed more hours to conservation, trail building, and group 8

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leadership than perhaps any other CMCer in our 103-year history. In 2003, the National Park Service awarded Madeline the George B. Harzog Outstanding Group Volunteer National Award, which she traveled to Washington, DC, to accept.

Madeline was also honored in 2007 with the Club’s Carl Blaurock Silver Piton Award.

Recently, the 92-year-old has had to reluctantly cut back on her CMC and RMNP work. However, as Chair Emeritus of the Shining Mountain Group, she is revered by many and has inspired some Shining Mountain members to step up to form a leadership council. Each of them said, “I could never attempt to fill Madeline’s shoes.” Luckily, we have a team of people working to accomplish what she did single-handedly for decades.

I wanted to hear some of the stories about Madeline, so I put a call out to members and RMNP staff.

Jim Detterline, former Longs Peak Super-

visory Climbing Ranger, wrote, “Madeline Framson is the most important under-recognized resource that Rocky Mountain National Park has. She has been a most important friend and mentor to me for three decades.

I worked with her on the CMC’s annual leadership training every May for about 20 years. She had me involved with banquets and special events…. Her work groups accomplished an astronomical number of projects, and I was grateful to be involved with some of these. She was always diligent on her research into facts and the pursuit of the truth. Her interest and care in preserving the Rocky Mountains, and in protecting her fellow CMCers through hazard recognition and training was her personal mission from God.” Grayson Garner, the Shining Mountain Group’s new Safety and Leadership Chair reminisced, “Madeline’s passion was RMNP. She was a walking encyclopedia of knowledge about RMNP! The CMC was her way of making her beloved Park accessible to others.

She understood that being in nature’s bounty was the best therapy for whatever ails any of us.”

Everyone agrees that Madeline Framson’s passion, energy, and contributions have been invaluable to the CMC and Rocky Mountain National Park. △

Cathleen Richards-Groninger Receives 2014 Ellingwood Award

By Sherry Richardson

THE ELLINGWOOD MOUNTAINEERING ACHIEVEMENT AWARD is given to Colorado Mountain Club members who have distinguished themselves in mountaineering and inspired Club members to follow in their paths.

It’s not surprising when a Colorado gal climbs big mountains. But how does a Detroit-born lady end up on top of some of the world’s highest peaks?

Cathleen learned to love the outdoors at her family’s lake cabin in northern Michigan.

She discovered the Rocky Mountains in 1965 during a month-long trip to the west coast.

The grandeur of the mountains was never far from her thoughts. Divorced at 32, Cathleen moved to Colorado.

In 1984 Cathleen and a girlfriend climbed Longs Peak. Although she made the top, the fear factor was too much for her, and she swore never to climb another peak. Then she met her future husband, Kent Groninger, who introduced her to the CMC. With her CMC training and her climber husband, Cathleen “changed her mind” on never climbing again! She finished the Colorado 14ers in 1991.

Cathleen’s first international expedition was in 1989 to Kun Peak, 23,219’. Though the team was strong, the heavy snow from the previous year made summiting impossible.

But the experience left Cathleen more determined to succeed on her next expedition.

Cho Oyu, 26,906’, is the sixth highest mountain in the world. Cathleen climbed it with her husband and CMC friends, Cleve Armstrong and Karon Young. The team couldn’t afford to hire Sherpas, so they

schlepped their gear up the mountain on their backs, earning the name “American Yaks.” The two couples reached the top, with Cathleen and Karon likely being the first American women to do so.

She then climbed Denali, Aconcagua, Mt. Elbrus, and Kilimanjaro.

In 2005 Cathleen and Kent attempted Mt. Everest. Had they succeeded, they would have been the oldest married couple to reach the top of the world. Unfortunately, 2005 was one of the worst weather years in Everest climbing history, and no attempts were made until June. By then Cathleen was back home in Colorado, saddened at not reaching the top but still relishing a life-changing adventure.

Recently Cathleen has focused on climbing the 50 State Highpoints. She had one left, Granite Peak in Montana. After spending two days on the mountain, she broke her ankle. She hasn’t ruled out going back again!

Cathleen is an inspiration to all women, especially those just starting out in the world of mountaineering. △

2014 Carl Blaurock Silver Piton Award Goes to David Hite

By Sherry Richardson

THE BLAUROCK AWARD IS GIVEN TO CMC members who have invested a substantial amount of effort in CMC activities resulting in significant improvement to the Club.

David Hite is that kind of member. Since joining the Club in 1984, he has contributed to the CMC at both the Group and State levels. David served on Denver Council, was Denver Group secretary, and then Denver Group chair. He was the editor of the Mile

High Mountaineer for four years.

With his tenure on the Denver Council behind him, he was elected to the CMC State Board, where he served as secretary during President Janice Heidel’s three-year term. Around this time the CMC hired a full-time director for the CMC Press, Alan Stark, who had strong publishing experience. David became the chair of the CMC Press Advisory Committee. Under Alan’s leadership, and with input and guidance from the Advisory Committee, the CMC Press went from being Club-supported to a thriving profit center. Additionally, the number of books more than doubled under their watch. Being an avid photographer, David went into the field to take photos for the Press’s updates of Colorado Lake Hikes and Colorado’s Quiet Winter Trails.

When the CMC and its partner the American Alpine Club began the long process of designing the Bradford Washburn American Mountaineering Museum, David took charge of the content for the Arts and the

Mountains section of the museum and collected the photos, the poetry, and the writings that visitors see today.

David then joined the CMC Foundation board. With the Club’s centennial approaching, a decision was made to publish a book commemorating the special event. David was tasked with finding the images. During that five-year project, of the 900 photos/images David collected from the CMC archives, museums, and libraries around the country, as well as private collectors and CMC photographers, 165 became a part of the book. The result of his efforts, along with the efforts of Jan Robertson, James Fell, Chris Case, and Walt Borneman, is 100 Years Up High celebrating the Club and its members.

Amidst all his volunteer work, David climbed 350 peaks. Presently David is in his twelfth year of volunteering at the ORIC (Outdoor Recreation Information Center) desk at REI. He is a member of the Club’s 21st Century Circle and a regular donor to various CMC endeavors. △ Trail & Timberline

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Bouldering Bus Brings Mobile Classroom to Front Range Schools Holly Barrass, Youth Education Program Director

YEP Manager Molly Daley shows off her bouldering moves in the bus, with YEP Director Holly Barrass spotting her. Photo by Rachel Vermeal

YEP staff cut the ribbon on CMC’s new mobile classroom. Photo by Rachel Vermeal

YEP hosted a Bouldering Bus program the first week they got the bus with Groundwork Denver. YEP joined Groundwork Denver’s end of season celebration and provided students with a balance and movement workshop. Photo by Molly Daley

IN THE FALL OF 2013, CMC’S Youth Education Program (YEP) was fortunate to receive a grant from the Millennium Trust in Boulder to enable us to provide programming to low-income Title I schools in the Boulder Valley School District. YEP partnered with The Women’s Wilderness Institute (TWWI) to bring Science of Climbing classes to schools through the Bouldering Bus—a retired school bus owned by TWWI that had been converted into a mobile bouldering gym. In the Spring 2014 issue of Trail & Timberline we published an article about this partnership and now we have an exciting update: Due to restructuring, TWWI has permanently donated the Bouldering Bus to YEP to help us provide outdoor education programming to many more schools!

The new YEP Bouldering Bus is a fully mobile classroom. YEP has always prided itself on our ability to provide the personal and physical challenges of climbing and combine them with teambuilding activities and handson science curriculum; however, many urban and under-resourced schools and groups have been unable to participate due to the high cost of transportation for field trips to our facility in Golden. The Bouldering Bus changes all of that. The Youth Education Program is 10

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now able to seek active partnerships with Title I schools throughout Denver, Jefferson, and Boulder Counties to provide unique learning experiences for underserved youth with the aim of boosting student engagement and academic achievement. The adoption of the Bouldering Bus significantly aids YEP’s efforts to increase accessibility to outdoor education opportunities for new and existing partners and participants, regardless of socioeconomic status and community resources.

The Bouldering Bus was originally built

by Christin and Ken Bellian in Fayetteville, North Carolina. When their local school district decided against building a gymnasium for students, the Bellian family built the climbing wall themselves in order to provide recreation opportunities to underserved youth. The Bellian family is still involved in the bus and is very excited about the future of it with YEP. “When Ken and I built it eight years ago, we envisioned the bus being used to introduce kids to climbing, the outdoors, healthy living, and more,” Christin Bellian said. “We thought it would be great to introduce kids to climbing, something we loved doing with our own kids. Now it looks like the bus will end up being used exactly the way we had envisioned.”

In addition to YEP’s new ability to reach underserved school populations, the bus allows us to increase program awareness for all of YEP’s programming—our after-school, summer, and Teen Ventures courses will also benefit from the bus. With the addition of the Bouldering Bus, YEP’s after-school classes will be competitive with other after-school programming available in the community, thereby increasing enrollment. Our Teen Ventures Leadership and Advisory Board will be involved with outreach events, painting the bus, and route setting workshops. This mobile climbing wall increases visibility for YEP and changes the way we think about the future of outdoor education—not to mention all the CMC events the bus will take center stage at!

The YEP department is honored to receive this donation. This is not only an amazing addition to our existing program—it’s an opportunity for whole communities of youth who will get to climb for the first time. We are excited to get the bus on the road and out into the community.

CMC members can climb in the YEP Bouldering Bus on June 7th at the Backyard Benefit event. Learn more about the event and register at cmc.org/backyard. △

Three Fresh Faces with Diverse Talents Join CMC Board Scott Otteman, CMC Board Member

Jason Kolaczkowski

Bruce McClintock

Jeff Flax

A SENIOR US MILITARY OFFICER, a long-time Denver Group leader, and a High Altitude Mountaineering School (HAMS) instructor are the three latest recruits to the CMC’s statewide Board of Directors. After a months-long nomination, review, and approval process the new board members began serving three-year terms last November.

For the past 27 years, Brigadier General Bruce McClintock has served worldwide in the US Air Force. He currently lives in Moscow, where he serves as the senior defense official advising the US ambassador to Russia.

Bruce has been climbing in the Rockies, Cascades, and in Europe for over 30 years, and was first introduced to the joy of the Colorado outdoors while summiting his first 14ers in his teens. Though his military career has meant he has worked and lived mostly outside Colorado, Bruce has managed to climb 33 14ers during regular return visits to his home state.

“I hope that my experience leading military organizations with diverse objectives can be helpful to the CMC as it looks for ways to better serve current and future members interested in Colorado’s great outdoors,” he said.

New board member Jeff Flax is a veteran CMC leader with the Denver Group and its

Rocky Mountain Over the Hill Gang. Jeff, who runs his own technology consultancy firm, served as Denver Group Council Chair and represented the group on the CMC State Council from 2012 to 2014.

The multi-generational Colorado native has been a trip leader since joining CMC in 2008, shortly after he retired from a government career overseeing technology support for all US court system federal defender offices. He has led more than 100 hiking, biking, snowshoe, and cross-country ski outings, and also been a main driver and participant in the CMC’s State Web Committee, which he currently co-chairs.

“My main goals are to be involved in improving the CMC’s website, shore up the Club’s finances, and see the Club grow— both in size and as a more cohesive organization,” he said.

Jason Kolaczkowski joins the board after steadily working his way up into a Club leader from the ground up. Starting as a Wilderness Trekking School (WTS) student after his wife and father trained with him to climb Longs Peak in 2009, Jason subsequently passed through Basic Mountaineering School (BMS) and HAMS courses, eventually becoming a HAMS senior instructor and director of the CMC’s Advanced Crevasse Rescue Seminar.

Jason, who works as a senior strategic portfolio manager at Kaiser Permanente, is currently slotted to lead a CMC trip to Denali as part of the Club’s 2015 Year of the Mountaineer celebration.

“I would really like to see us modernize our digital presence and develop a suite of online tools that make it easier to not just lead trips, but to share knowledge and content across our various communities,” Jason said.

With the addition of Bruce, Jeff, and Jason, the state Board of Directors is now comprised of 17 members. The Board meets four times a year to provide the CMC’s strategic direction, set Club policies, and review, amend, and approve the annual budget and management plan put forward by senior CMC staff. The Board is chaired by Kevin Duncan, the executive vice president of Duncan Oil Inc., who recently began his second term.

When Board slots open up, typically once a year, CMC members are notified and nominations are accepted and reviewed by the Board’s membership committee. Potentially qualified nominees are then interviewed by that panel, which makes recommendations to the CMC State Council of local group leaders. Once the Council approves a candidacy, it is forwarded to the State Board, which takes final action at its next meeting.△ Trail & Timberline

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New Snow Preservation Program Addresses the High Environmental Cost of Winter Sports Heather MacSlarrow, Lands Director

powers its lifts with solar and wind energy, Aspen leads the charge in calling for federal legislation to protect winter, and A-Basin, Buttermilk, Copper, Snowmass, and Telluride participate in the National Ski Area Association’s Climate Challenge. But the highest environmental cost of winter sports—the carbon expended traveling to and from our snowy destinations—remains unaddressed.

As the representative of Colorado’s human powered winter recreationists, CMC’s Backcountry Snowsports Initiative (BSI) is doing something about that with our Snow Preservation program.

BSI’s Snow Preservation program is designed to create immediate positive on-theground impacts through three components: tree planting, ridesharing, and carbon computing. Trees sequester carbon, provide cooling, and increase ecosystem resilience—three necessities for the maintenance of micro- and macro-climatic conditions. BSI’s goal is to raise the funds to plant 20,000 trees, which would sequester roughly one million pounds of carbon annually and contribute to local ecosystem health exponentially. A 60-mile vehicle commute emits roughly 50 pounds of carbon and contributes to the day-long traffic backups seen every winter along Interstate 70. BSI wants to create ridesharing technology to link up human powered winter recreationists headed to the same destinations.

BSI’s objective is to decrease human-powered recreation car trips by 25%.

Knowledge, as they say, is power. Through development of winter recreation carbon calculators, BSI will empower skiers, snowboarders, and snowshoers to track their own carbon output from vehicle and air travel, mountain equipment use (ski lifts to snowmaking), and gear purchases. Calculator users will also be provided an array of tools for footprint off-setting. BSI hopes to aid individuals in the reduction of winter recreation carbon footprints by 10%.

This project relies on the support of Coloradoans, so accomplishment of the aims of the Snow Preservation program is up to you.

Take a second to give right now by texting “BSI 25” (to give $25) to 50155. Here’s what different giving amounts will do to further the Snow Preservation program: $25 will buy five native trees; $50 will buy ten native trees; $100 will run a snow preservation ad on Facebook; $250 will send 25 volunteers to plant trees for a day; $500 will sponsor a snow preservation crowdfunding event in a Colorado mountain town; $1,000 will create a carbon calculator on the CMC website; $2,500 will develop a ridesharing app; $5,000 will plant 500 trees and sequester roughly 250,000 pounds of carbon every year. You can also contribute by hosting a crowdfunding event or volunteering your app development skills.

To learn more, contact Lands Department Director Heather MacSlarrow at HeatherMacslarrow@cmc.org.△

Frozen ascent. Shutterstock photo

WE’RE COLORADOANS. WE TAKE OUR POWDER SERIOUSLY. And our powder is in danger.

Dr. Daniel Scott, the University of Waterloo’s Canada Research Chair in Global Change and Tourism within the Interdisciplinary Centre on Climate Change, estimates that for snowpack in the warming winters to come, some mountains will be “winners” and some will be “losers,” meaning that while a few ski resorts will see increased snowfall, many will see a decrease to the point of being inoperable. Scott uses scientific modeling to predict snowpack at mountain resorts. He has been commissioned by winter tourism entities worldwide to determine a range of possible outcomes for regional winter sports and provide assistance in developing mitigation plans. Each report he has published estimates a significant drop in snowfall (up to 50 inches a year in the Northeast US), and ascending shift in snowline (upwards of a 4,000-foot increase).

Regional and global climate trends are enhanced by human production of greenhouse gases, and the ski industry is no exception.

Last year, millions of people visited Colorado resorts and the Colorado backcountry. High use begets high impact, from billions of tons of waste created to the incredible energy output required to operate mountain machinery.

Ski resorts are mitigating this impact in myriad ways. Vail is greening its product lines and has cut energy use by 10 percent, Steamboat

The quiet of the forest. Shutterstock photo

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Two New Guidebooks from CMC Press

By Sarah Gorecki, Director of Publishing 108 pages, 4 x 7, 60 color photos, 21 maps, paperbound, rounded corners, $12.95, ISBN 978-1-937052-14-0

1184 pages, 6 x 9, 178 color photos, 40 route topos, paperbound, rounded corners, $24.95, ISBN 978-1937052-13-3

GUIDEBOOK/UTAH

GUIDEBOOK/COLORADO

AVAILABLE IN MARCH

AVAILABLE IN APRIL

KEEP AN EYE OUT THIS SPRING for the two newest titles published by CMC Press: The Best Moab and Arches National Park Hikes, to be released mid-March, and Classic Front Range Trad Climbs: Multi-Pitch Routes 5.4–5.8, to be released in April.

The Best Moab and Arches National Park Hikes is the first pack guide for the State of Utah by Colorado Mountain Club Press.

The 20 hiking trails in this fit-in-your-pocket guide range from the world famous Delicate Arch, in Arches National Park, to hikes in Dead Horse Point State Park, where you can peer 2,000 feet down to the Colorado River.

Each hike provides a glimpse into what many consider to be the most scenic part of Utah’s red rock country, taking you to Landscape Arch, one of the world’s largest natural rock spans, and Horseshoe Canyon, containing

what many believe to be the most significant rock art in North America. Arches National Park is renowned for having over 2,000 arches within the park boundary—the largest concentration of natural stone arches in the world.

Author Rod Martinez has also written The Best Aspen Hikes and was project manager for The Best Telluride Hikes and The Best Grand Junction Hikes. Martinez combines his two passions—landscape photography and hiking—to visually capture nature’s beauty for the 20 hikes in this pack guide.

Classic Front Range Trad Climbs includes 40 classic traditional multi-pitch rock climbs from 5.4 to 5.8. Climbs are organized by area: Lumpy Ridge, Fall River Valley, South St. Vrain, Boulder Canyon, Flatirons, Eldorado Canyon, Mt. Lindo, South Platte, Elev-

enmile Canyon, and Garden of the Gods.

Colorado’s Front Range is the perfect place for moderate, traditionally protected rock climbing. This guide covers climbs perfect for beginning adventure climbers to work their way up the grades on classic routes, or for any climber looking for a fun day out getting high up on the rock and away from the crowds.

Author Brendan Leonard is a contributing editor at Climbing, and has been climbing trad routes in the Front Range ever since Lee Smith showed him how to place gear. Museum volunteer and co-author Lee Smith is a longtime Front Range climber and mountaineer, often recruiting unsuspecting climbers for their first trad route.

Trail & Timberline is going digital!

TRAIL & TIMBERLINE MAGAZINE has been published continuously—for and by CMC members—since 1918.

The magazine contains news from the Club, suggested trips and destinations, and feature articles on everything from climbing 14ers to the Club's conservation ethic. Now there is a new way to enjoy the magazine—in digital format on your e-reader, tablet, or desktop!

It’s easy to go green, enjoy all the great articles, and save on your

carbon footprint. Visit the CMC website at www.cmc.org/About/Newsroom to see archived issues.

To manage your Trail & Timberline subscription, log in to the CMC website, then click on “My Membership” on the Member Dashboard. You can update all of your newsletter and subscriptions in the “My Member Info” section. Hundreds of CMC members have already updated their Trail & Timberline subscription to digital!

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Around Colorado Our groups across the State

We Are the CMC! The Colorado Mountain Club is the state’s leading organization dedicated to adventure, recreation, conservation, and education. Founded in 1912, the CMC has helped Coloradoans enjoy the mountains for more than a century. The Club acts as a gateway to the outdoors for novices and experts alike, offering an array of year-round activities and events.

The CMC’s sixteen local chapters host a variety of outdoor activities including hiking, backpacking, mountaineering, rock climbing, skiing, and many other outdoor activities. See cmc.org/Calendar for a current listing. Our chapters also include a group for people living outside the state (Friends of Colorado), a group for members 25 years and younger (Alpine Start), and a group for CMC mission supporters who don’t participate in CMC activities (Friends of the CMC).

South Broadway, Unit K, in Boulder, where they host new member meetings and programs. The Boulder Group operates the Brainard Cabin and Arestua Hut in the Arapaho-Roosevelt National Forest. The Boulder Group also publishes a free online trail map of the Brainard Lake Recreation Area.

Colorado Wilderness Families

Chair: Scott Burger chinadaddy@comcast.net Website: cmc.org/CoWildernessFamilies This group is for families who gather together to enjoy the outdoors safely. Activities are generally designed for the participation of the whole family—including babies to early teens—and include overnight camping or “cabining” hikes, wall climbs, and map and compass practices.

Denver Alpine Start Contact: Laurie Normandeau laurienormandeau@cmc.org Website: cmc.org/AlpineStart This group, for people 25 years old and younger, was developed to encourage membership in young adults. Thanks to generous donations from CMC members, we have recently hired a Young Adult Specialist to help jump-start trips and leadership development for young adults age 18–25. Young adults from all groups are encouraged to participate in Alpine Start trips and courses.

Aspen Contact: Carol Kurt kurtskarma@aol.com Website: cmc.org/Aspen Aspen Group members mainly live in the Roaring Fork Valley; however, some members live across the country and have special connections to Aspen. In addition to mountain recreation activities, Aspen hosts picnics, an annual banquet, and slide shows on winter evenings.

Boulder Chair (Acting): Andy Cook Andy_r_cooke@hotmail.com Website: CMC.org/Boulder The Boulder Group has a clubroom at 633

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Chair: David Hutchison dwhutchison3@gmail.com Website: cmc.org/Denver Newsletter: The Mile High Mountaineer The Denver Group is the largest CMC Group and holds most of its programs and school lectures at the American Mountaineering Center in Golden.

Activities are scheduled almost every day of the week, including weekends and holidays. New member meetings—for new and prospective members—feature informative and interesting videos and briefings on hiking skills and trip policies, and are strongly recommended for all new members. For schedules and more information, visit cmc.org/Calendar.

Denver also has groups of people who meet and recreate together around specific interests.

Additional fees may apply for these special interest “sections.”

• Rocky Mountain Over the Hill Gang: for 50+ year-olds • Trailblazers: for members in their 20s and 30s • Photo Section: for photography lovers • Fly Fishing: everything fly fishing

El Pueblo

holds several social and educational functions each year, including a potluck dinner and monthly meetings with entertaining guest speakers.

The monthly meetings are held the first Friday of most months at 7:00 PM in the parish hall at Ascension Episcopal Church, located at 18th St. and Grand Ave. in Pueblo.

Friends of Colorado

Contact: Scott Otteman scotteman@aol.com Website: cmc.org/FriendsofColorado The Friends of Colorado Group was created in 1987 to support the many CMC members who live out of state but still want to take part in CMC activities when visiting Colorado. Friends of Colorado members receive all the benefits of being a CMC member; visit cmc.org/Join/MemberBenefits for a complete list of member benefits.

Friends of Routt Backcountry

Chair: Leslie Lovejoy leslie@lovejoygraphics.com Website: cmc.org/FriendsRB

Located in Steamboat Springs, this group was created by the CMC during our adoption of the Backcountry Snowsports Alliance. The Backcountry Snowsports Initiative supports non-motorized winter recreation through advocacy and on-the-ground efforts.

Fort Collins Chair: Don Carpenter dec5018@comcast.net Website: cmc.org/FtCollins The Fort Collins Group has members of all ages from Fort Collins, Loveland, Greeley and the surrounding communities. Fort Collins offers Young Adventurers Trips geared for members in their 20s and 30s. Fort Collins also hosts monthly programs, a winter potluck, a summer BBQ, and an Annual Dinner. Monthly programs feature a guest speaker who presents on a topic related to the outdoors or recreation.

Gore Range

Chair: Jill Mattoon jill.mattoon@judicial.state.co.us Website: cmc.org/ElPueblo

Chair: Colleen Widlak cwidlak@aol.com Website: cmc.org/GoreRange

The El Pueblo Group provides outdoor experiences for people in the “un-crowded” southern and southeastern parts of Colorado. El Pueblo

Many Gore Range Group members live in the shadow of the magnificent Gore Range in Summit and Eagle Counties. Members from as far

south as Salida and north to Kremmling and from out of state are also part of the group. A Gore Range Group newsletter is sent out twice a year, as well as periodic emails.

Longs Peak Chair: Mike Pippis mike.coloradoguy@gmail.com Website: cmc.org/LongsPeak The Longs Peak Group has members in Longmont, Lyons, Erie, Louisville, Mead, Niwot, and the surrounding area. Formed in 1963, and named for the majestic peak which dominates the western horizon, Longs Peak offers a range of outdoor activities throughout the state.

Pikes Peak Chair: Collin Powers powerscollin@yahoo.com Website: cmc.org/PikesPeak The Pikes Peak Group, located in Colorado Springs, offers a variety of outdoor activities, educational opportunities, and social events. Pikes Peak has two special “sections”: “SESI” is the section for singles and stands for “Singles Enjoying Similar Interests,” and “20/30-Something” is the Pikes Peak section for members in their 20s and 30s. Monthly meetings feature speaker presentations on regional activities, local history, and trips to exotic places. A potluck dinner is held in May; the Annual Dinner is held in November.

San Juan Chair: Laura Scull Scull_l@fortlewis.edu Website: cmc.org/SanJuan The San Juan Group provides outdoor experiences in southwestern Colorado and adjacent Utah and New Mexico. Meetings are held on the third Tuesday of September, November, January, March, and May. At each meeting, an hourlong presentation is usually given, followed by a business meeting.

Rosemary Burbank and Blake Clark tandem telemark skiing the Sand Dunes, June 2014. Photo

by Dave Gebhardt

Shining Mountains

Chair: Maureen Denig mpdenig@hotmail.com Website: cmc.org/ShiningMountains The Shining Mountains Group serves CMC members in Estes Park, Loveland, Lyons, and the surrounding area. Rocky Mountain National Park benefits from the many volunteer stewardship projects sponsored by the group. “The Friendly Bunch,” organized to help singles of all ages get acquainted with each other, hosts a variety of activities; while most participants are single, all CMC members are welcome.

Western Slope Chair: Stanley Nunnally stanleynunnally@yahoo.com Website: cmc.org/WesternSlope The Western Slope Group has members throughout the Grand Junction area. Monthly meetings include educational speakers and environmental issue updates, as well as stories and tales from CMC trips. Meetings are held at 7:00 PM on the first Wednesday of each month (with no meeting in June, July, or August) at the Masonic Lodge, 2400 Consistory Court, in Grand Junction. The Canyon Call newsletter and periodic emails keep members informed of upcoming meetings, educational activities, adventures, Club trips, and local activities of interest.

Friends of the CMC

Members who support the mission of the CMC but don’t plan to take part in Club activities.

This membership is perfect for people who are too busy to take part in trips and schools, but who strongly believe in CMC’s work in conservation and educating youth.

Get Involved in Your CMC

•There are many volunteer opportunities throughout the Club. All group activities are led by dedicated and skilled volunteers. Visit cmc. org/Volunteer for more information or contact your local group.

•To ensure the continued enjoyment of Colorado’s pristine places, the CMC leads efforts to protect wild and public lands with its conservation and stewardship programs. cmc.org/ Conservation •The CMC’s Youth Education Program inspires confidence and academic achievement in youth through school programs, summer camps, afterschool programs, and young adult programs. cmc.org/Youth •The Club has published its quarterly magazine, Trail & Timberline, since 1918, and operates the CMC Press with more than 45 titles in print. cmc.org/Store •The American Mountaineering Museum celebrates the rich history of the mountains and mountaineering. mountaineeringmuseum.org

The Western Slope Group leads many cross-country ski trips on the Grand Mesa. Photo courtesy of Carolyn Emanuel

Mountain Education

The CMC offers many educational opportunities through our regional groups. CMC courses appeal to people new to the outdoors as well as people looking for new ways to enjoy the mountains and expand their personal horizons.

These affordable schools encourage individuals to improve their outdoor skill sets.

CMC instructors are volunteers and members of the Club. They are experienced users of the outdoors who have polished their skills on Club trips and demonstrated their leadership abilities. Safety and personal responsibility, respect for the natural environment, and leadership skills are stressed in all courses. Students of all ages gain the skills and knowledge to comfortably participate in mountain trips.

The larger CMC groups offer more than 61 schools and seminars. Smaller groups sometimes host instructors from other group schools for weekend seminars. Volunteer committees in the groups develop the curricula, so there are some variations between the group educational offerings. See cmc.org/education for a calendar of upcoming schools.

New! Mountain Skills Adventure Camp for Adults (with Wilderness First Aid option) June 28–July 2, 2015 CMC Members: $400 Non-member Guests: $450 Join us at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in southern Colorado for summer camp. The focus will be on mountain hiking skills, safety, map and compass navigation, Leave No Trace outdoor ethics, and hiking equipment tips and tricks. Get certified in Wilderness First Aid (16-hour course) or spend those two days hiking the Sangres on CMC trips. Includes meals, basic campsites, and all instruction.

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Safety first

FOLLOW THAT TRAIL:

TOOLS FOR NAVIGATING YOUR NEXT HIKE

BY JOE GRIFFITH

In Lost Person Behavior, Robert Koester describes results from the International Search and Rescue Incident Database. The database divides wilderness travelers into two groups: climbers (or mountaineers) and hikers (including backpackers). Perhaps because climbers often venture off trail, they tend to be good navigators.

Only 17% of the search and rescue incidents for climbers are caused by someone getting lost, usually in bad weather. Hikers lose their way much more frequently, though they travel mostly on-trail. Lost hikers account for 68% of their rescue incidents.

One reason for having trails is to provide guidance, but they are not free of navigational hazards. Inattentive, unprepared hikers easily get into trouble. They go the wrong way along a trail. They miss an intersection or make the wrong choice at one. They lose the trail. Many do not carry a map and compass. Those with a map sometimes unintentionally read it upside down. Even diligent navigators can go astray when disoriented by weather or darkness. Nevertheless, knowing where you are and how to get to your destination on a trail is easier than navigating off-trail. Numbers, such as compass bearings, are not as demanding on-trail. Off-trail navigators must work much harder to gauge their direction and progress. With just a little additional preparation and mental effort, hikers could navigate as reliably as climbers. The tools needed are easy to carry and easy to use.

COMPASS

A section of the US Topo map for the Idaho Springs quadrangle. The TerraGo Toolbar allows one to extract geospatial information from the map. The PDF file of the map and the toolbar are both free.

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We humans depend mainly on our eyes to stay oriented. The verb “orient” comes from the Latin noun oriens meaning east, the direction of the rising sun. It is easy to stay oriented when the sun is visible. But when our vision is obscured by darkness, weather, or dense vegetation, we tend to walk in circles unless we have an external guide. A trail offers a guideline, but the trail by itself is not enough.

A compass needle’s magical ability to sense direction makes it a priceless item in the wilderness. A compass has many virtues. It is inexpensive, rugged, small, lightweight, and exceptionally reliable. It does not need batteries. In addition to my main compass I often use a small compass built into my emergency whistle. Dangling from my pack’s harness, that little compass allows me to instantly verify that I am going in approximately the right direction. You can avert many navigational mishaps by simply making sure that you are going the correct way along a trail.

Hikers often become lost by making the wrong choice at a trail junction, which is why a lot of work goes into providing clear signs at intersections. Not needing the information themselves, wilderness critters sometimes vandalize the signs. They trample and even chew on them. In addition, many junctions do not have signs, so you may need to figure out on your own which way to go. A compass can help with that. Standing at the junction, use your compass to measure the directions of the trails radiating from it. Compare those directions with those on your trail map. If the two patterns match, then it should be easy to make the right choice. If they are different, then you may not be where you think you are.

is easy to follow up to the saddle (a landmark) at about 11,100’, but just beyond it a sharp turn to the southwest is easy to miss. The last segment of the overlay shows that the turn is 102 m (335’) from the saddle on a true bearing of 158°. The coordinates of the red square at the turn are in the lower right-hand corner. Forewarned by your map, you have a much better chance of successfully negotiating the turn.

Unlike the older USGS topographic maps, which are still useful, the original series of US Topo maps did not include trails. Trails are reappearing in the latest version, but it is important to supplement the topographic map with a trail map. National Geographic’s Trails Illustrated Maps™ and Latitude 40° maps show trails and other information often missing from topographic maps. Parks usually provide free trail maps. Map makers strive to keep their maps up to date, but the reliability of a map depends on the feature in question. Mountains and valleys generally stay put, but trails can change. It is helpful to consult maps from more than one source. Also check the date of the map. No map is perfect, but imperfect information is far better than none at all.

Animals sometimes destroy trail signs. Photo courtesy of Bill Manning, Executive Director of The Colorado Trail Foundation

MAPS AND GUIDEBOOKS

Good navigators pay attention to landmarks, and they use them as waypoints. A landmark does not need to be a large, prominent feature. It could be a stream crossing, a ridge, or just a distinctive bend in the trail. Each section of a trail has a signature that an alert hiker will quickly recognize. Landmarks allow a hiker to gauge progress without having to exactly measure the distance traveled. Common usage associates waypoints with GPS, but waypoints described with words or marked on a map are also valuable data.

The Colorado Trail Foundation’s guidebooks describing the Colorado Trail are excellent examples of the information used by trail navigators. Both The Colorado Trail, 8th edition, and The Colorado Trail Databook, 5th edition, verbally describe waypoints associated with easily recognizable landmarks. Maps, photos, and elevation profiles help hikers to imagine the context. The guidebook includes a complete narrative while the databook condenses the essential information into a format that is easily carried. Jerry Brown’s The Colorado Trail Map Book has 1,200 densely spaced GPS waypoints plotted on large-scale topographic maps. You can find a file listing their coordinates at ColoradoTrail.org.

These resources for the Colorado Trail are a fine model of how you can prepare for other trails. First, you will need maps. Fortunately, the Internet is opening up new ways to obtain maps, many of them completely free of charge. In 2008 the USGS began work on a series of 7.5-minute quadrangle maps called US Topo. These maps, along with their earlier quadrangle maps, are available as free PDF files at store.usgs.gov. The maps are GeoPDF® files containing geospatial information. Users of Microsoft® Windows can access this information with a free addition to Adobe Reader® called Terrago Toolbar™. The USGS describes how to use its maps and the toolbar in the US Topo Map and Historical Topographic Map Users Guide. You can find it at nationalmap.gov/ustopo/quickstart.pdf.

For example, the map on page 16 shows a section of the latest US Topo map for the Idaho Springs quadrangle. The overlay on the Resthouse Meadows Trail is from the TerraGo GeoMeasure tool. The trail

GADGETS THAT NEED BATTERIES

Electronic devices have too many failure modes to be used as primary navigation tools. On long hikes battery lifetime becomes a significant limitation. If you want to summon help with your cell phone the last thing you need is a drained battery. Device complexity also invites user error. Once, at the beginning of a trip when clearing the track log on my GPS unit, I inadvertently erased all of my waypoints too. If you are depending on GPS waypoints to guide you, make sure that you have them written down and that you know how to manually load them in the field. Hikers carrying a GPS unit have become lost because they had not figured out how to use it.

On the other hand, GPS units and smartphones have become powerful (and seductive) aids for finding your way. As backups to map and compass, they can substantially reduce your chances of becoming lost. If you lose the trail a GPS unit can quickly give you the direction and distance to the nearest waypoint on your path. Many smartphones now include standalone GPS so they can determine your location while out of contact with the cell phone network.

Some GPS units can carry topographic maps for all of Colorado at 1:24,000 scale. A smartphone can display map files with Adobe Reader. The camera in a smartphone can record maps posted at a trailhead. There are many new smartphone apps for hikers. For instance, The Colorado Trail Hiker is an electronic guidebook for the Colorado Trail with photos, maps, and the ability to use the phone’s GPS receiver.

Resources for navigating trails are plentiful, inexpensive, and generally reliable. If you are unfamiliar with how to use them, several CMC schools offer comprehensive training. Becoming a good wilderness navigator is not difficult, and it will allow you to enjoy the outdoors with the comfort and security of knowing exactly where you are.

The Colorado Trail, 8th edition, and The Colorado Trail Databook, 5th edition, are available at www.cmc.org/Store.

Joe Griffith is the director and the navigation lecturer for the Wilderness Trekking School.

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The Hike That Rekindled My Passion

ESCAPING QUIET DESPERATION ON THE COLORADO TRAIL

lay exhausted in my tiny orange tent as thunder echoed off the hills. The rumbles came in rapid succession, each clap bleeding into the next. Lightning bathed my tent in a cold, white glow, and sheets of rain pelted down fiercely.

The storm continued all night. In the morning, the ridge where I had camped was blanketed in a dense fog. My rainfly was soaked, and a ring of mud had splashed up onto the walls of my tent. My food bags hung in a nearby tree, dripping.

This was bad. Nothing would dry in the damp weather, so I’d have to stuff sopping gear into my pack. Then everything else I had with me would get wet, too. My sleeping bag was filled with down, which loses its insulating power when wet, so I would be cold that night—dangerously cold. Hypo18

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thermia was a very real threat in the Rockies.

This was my first night out on Colorado Trail. The plan was to hike the entire 486 miles from Denver to Durango.

I knew I was in over my head. The trail crosses eight mountain ranges and climbs nearly three times the height of Mount Everest. It’s mostly above 10,000 feet, so the air is thin, there is significant danger of lightning strikes, and the temperature often dips below freezing at night.

About 400 people attempt the trail each year, but only 150 finish. Every shred of logic told me it was unlikely that I’d be one of them. I’d only started backpacking the year before; my longest trip had been two nights; and I’d never gone solo. I also had a fear of heights.

But I wanted to do this hike, more

than I’d wanted anything in years. Since my mother died in 2009, I’d felt lonely, untethered, and emotionally empty. I had plenty of friends, a caring significant other, and a well-respected job at Wyoming’s NPR station. But my life was passionless. As if on autopilot, I pursued a career that had seemed exciting years earlier but which now left me feeling tired and hollow.

A quote from Henry David Thoreau kept running through my thoughts: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” I knew I needed to get away. And when the idea of a long hike first inched its way into my mind, it instantly felt right—totally, viscerally right.

So I made plans to quit my job.

Prepping for the hike was a delicate matter. I couldn’t ask for much help, because then people would find out what a novice

Left: Cataract Lake (12,246’) was one of the highest places I camped, and also one of the most wonderful.

Bottom: The highest point on The Colorado Trail (13,271 feet) should offer stunning views of the mountains to the north, but when I passed through, dense clouds hung over the ridge.

STORY AND PHOTOS BY WILLOW BELDEN

I was. Family members and acquaintances were already skeptical about my hike. They warned that quitting my job to wander through the woods would leave gaps in my resume, and they questioned my assumption that time alone in the wilderness would help me regain a sense of purpose and direction.

“What do you think is going to happen out there, Willow?” one of my friends asked, when I told her about my plans. “Are you expecting the clouds to part and give you all the answers?”

Comments like that were discouraging, and I worried that if people knew how unprepared I was for a long hike, they’d be even more skeptical and might even convince me to abandon my plan.

So instead of soliciting advice, I read. And read. And read. I poured over books on

long-distance hiking, and combed through countless online forums about lightweight gear, camping meals, and feminine hygiene in the woods.

I agonized over gear choices. I ordered four tents and set them up side by side in my house to compare. They took up so much space that I couldn’t get to my couch or dining room table. But I left them up for days, stretching out inside of each, timing how long it took to erect and fold them up, and examining every tiny detail: the handy mesh pockets on the inside of one tent, the ingenious nylon rain gutter on another, the pleasing earth tones of a third.

I went through the same process with backpacks, trying out five different models at home, and filling them with rocks to simulate the load I’d be carrying.

I made a spreadsheet listing the sizes and weights of possible sleeping bags.

And I vacillated about what clothing to bring: Did I need a fleece and a down jacket?

(I decided I did.) Would two pairs of socks be enough? (No; I took three). Could I save weight by leaving my underwear at home and hiking commando? (Absolutely.)

In the weeks leading up to my departure, I borrowed a food dehydrator from a friend and dried veggies and bison meat to take with me. I mailed boxes filled with power bars, dehydrated meals, and extra sunscreen to towns along the trail. I fashioned a homemade stove out of an empty cat food can, broke in my hiking boots, and studied the maps in my pocket-sized trail atlas.

Finally, on July 7, I took one last luxurious shower and set off.

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The trail began in a dusty canyon on the outskirts of Denver. The morning sun was already unpleasantly hot as I hoisted my 40-pound backpack onto my shoulders. As I started walking, a jogger approached, bouncing along in hot pink running shoes.

“How far are you going?” she asked.

“Durango!” I said, beaming. Saying it out loud seemed surreal.

“Wow!” She smiled and wished me luck.

I felt like a superhero.

Unfortunately, the confidence soon faded.

The next morning, as I gingerly wiped the mud off my soaking tent with a wad of toilet paper, a sense of ineptitude washed over me.

How could I possibly complete the Colorado Trail, if I couldn’t deal with something as innocuous as a wet tent?

The storm was just the first of my troubles.

On day two, I arrived at the dreaded “burn area,” a 12,000-acre plot of land that was decimated by a wildfire in 1996. There are no water sources, and almost no shade, for more than 10 miles. I knew it would be tough, but I had no choice but to keep going. The sun was brutal, and the landscape desolate—hills upon hills of charred stumps and fallen trees spread out in every direction, punctuated by the occasional purple thistle.

Sweat dripped into my eyes, dust clung to my grimy skin, and my feet started to hurt. When I finally took off my boots, I cringed at the plump red blisters that had 20

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mushroomed on my toes. The straps from my backpack dug into me so deeply that my shoulders went numb. I tried loosening the straps, then tightening them, but nothing helped. The further I walked, the more acutely my muscles ached. By the following day, a sharp pain was shooting down the back of my left leg with every step.

Needless to say, I no longer felt like a superhero.

And yet, on I trudged. I couldn’t give up this quickly. I’d quit my job and cleared my summer for this. And more importantly, I desperately wanted the hike to heal my emotional scars, the same way the Pacific Crest Trail had helped author Cheryl Strayed process her grief. I couldn’t stop before I’d given the trail a chance to work its magic.

Finally, after about a week, I crested the Continental Divide for the first time, at a place called Georgia Pass. I took off my pack and sat among the vibrant yellow wildflowers that blanketed the grassy saddle. Snowcapped peaks filled the horizon; the sky was a brilliant blue; the sun felt warm and comforting on my shoulders; and I breathed in the clear mountain air, feeling a surge of exhilaration. Maybe I could finish this trail, after all.

I’d like to say that after that, the hike was a piece of cake. But it wasn’t. I hiked through clouds of mosquitoes so fierce that they bit me through layers of clothing. I plodded through monotonous woods in the

sweltering heat, climbing thousands of feet up, only to feel a twinge of disappointment when I discovered there was no view at the top. I trudged through days of nonstop rain, picking my way through the maze of cow plops that coated the soggy trail. My sleeping pad sprung a leak, and my water filter broke.

And yet, something strange started to happen. The longer I was on the trail, the happier I grew.

The independence of hiking alone was delightful: I woke up when I wanted to, took breaks when my blisters demanded, walked at my own pace, and camped when I was tired. In the mornings, I savored the silence as I sipped my coffee, watching the red glow of dawn inch its way over the horizon. And as I walked along alpine ridges, gazing at emerald valleys and elegant peaks, I marveled at having these enchanting places to myself.

The trail continued to throw me curveballs, but the kind of disasters that had haunted my imagination before the hike didn’t happen. I did not get eaten by bears.

I didn’t get hypothermia. And I wasn’t kidnapped or raped when I hitchhiked into towns to resupply.

And so, gradually, my perspective changed. Instead of agonizing over all the things that go wrong, I became increasingly grateful about simple things that went right.

“The bugs aren’t too horrible today,” I’d think. “Hooray!”

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1: After staying above treeline for about 30 miles in the San Juan Mountains, the CT descends into a canyon at the headwaters of Elk Creek. 2: Decimated by a wildfire in 1996, this 12,000-acre burn area offers no shade or water for hikers. 3: Storm clouds were brewing as I approached Black Hawk Pass. I had hiked through hail already that day and hoped to avoid electrical storms atop the pass. 4: Upon arriving in Lake City to resupply, I promptly ate the hugest ice cream cone ever.

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Or, “My rainfly is dry this morning— splendid!”

I felt gratitude toward the bears for staying out of my campsites, and toward my tent for keeping me dry during violent storms. I felt lucky that it rarely rained in the mornings when I was breaking camp, and that I got to bathe in refreshing mountain streams nearly every day. I counted my blessings that I didn’t get giardia.

As time went on, I grew more and more confident that I could handle whatever the trail threw at me. After a few weeks, walking 19 miles in a day no longer felt daunting.

Carrying enough food for an entire week was doable. And navigating a 22-mile stretch without water seemed like an intriguing challenge rather than an impossible roadblock.

I was finally living in the moment, rather than worrying about what was ahead. It was exhilarating.

On August 12, a little over five weeks after I’d set out from Denver, I came to an unassuming gravel parking lot. This was the end of the trail. I’d made it. I sat on a rock, watching the sun sink behind the trees.

A quiet sense of accomplishment tingled through my limbs. I felt calm, tranquil, fulfilled.

The trail had been brutal at times. It had tested and infuriated me, and I’d sometimes wondered with genuine bewilderment why I was putting myself through it. But it had also enveloped me in its vast beauty, erased

my anxiety over my future, and filled me up inside.

A few days after returning home, I was listening to Morning Edition on NPR, hearing the familiar voices of my former colleagues,

I was giddy with excitement. Finally, I had figured out what my dreams were. I felt capable of pursuing them— invincible, even. I was high on life. when a thought struck me.

“I don’t want to go back to reporting the news,” I said to myself.

But I also didn’t want to leave radio.

Instead, I realized, I wanted to be a host—to be the voice of a show—to think about big ideas and curate a collection of stories exploring those ideas. The very thought of a career like that thrilled me.

Before my hike, I would have dismissed such an idea, assuming I was unqualified for the role. But now, a sense of optimism pulsed through my limbs. “Of course I can

do this!” I thought.

I was giddy with excitement. Finally, I had figured out what my dreams were. I felt capable of pursuing them—invincible, even.

I was high on life.

The sense of invincibility has faded, but the trail has left its mark on me in a profound way. It’s given me a sense of possibility.

I’m doing something today that I would never have dared to try a year ago: starting my own business. I’m creating what I hope will be my dream job, producing a public radio-style podcast about the outdoors. I have zero business experience, but I keep telling myself that this is no different than hiking the Colorado Trail. When I started that journey, I was a novice too, yet I pushed through the hard parts and ultimately succeeded. And the hike turned out to be one of the best things I’ve done for myself in years.

Now, when I start to feel overwhelmed, I remind myself that it’s okay to dive into the deep end, even if you’re not a strong swimmer. If you want something enough, you’ll learn how to swim. △ Willow Belden is a radio journalist in Laramie, Wyoming. She was a reporter and anchor for Wyoming Public Radio for three years before leaving her job to hike the Colorado Trail.

She’s written for newspapers and magazines in New York, Maine, and the Middle East, and now hosts a podcast about the outdoors, called “Out There.”

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n a hot spring day just north of the MexicoNew Mexico border, I watched six hikers assemble at the worn community center in the town of Hachita, population 90. Equipped with backpacks and gear, these men were preparing themselves to walk from Mexico to Canada along the Rockies, traversing 3,100 miles along the backbone of America on what is arguably the country’s most difficult trail, the Continental Divide Trail (CDT). Although by all appearances these six men looked like a normal, ragtag group of outdoor adventurers, they came to the CDT with a special mission.

Observing the desolate landscape of the New Mexican boot heel, one already well-bearded hiker exclaimed, “This looks like Afghanistan.” He paused. “But here on the CDT no one will be shooting at us!”

For a normal hiker, the arid Big Hatchet Mountains don’t evoke those kind of responses. But for the team of hikers before me, this observation was a healthy start to their hike. These men were members of Warrior Hike, a nonprofit program developed to help veterans transition from combat life to civilian life by walking America’s long-distance trails. In 1946, Earl Schaffer, the first long-distance hiker, trekked from Georgia to Maine on the Appalachian Trail (A.T.) to walk off the effects of World War II. Over decades, veterans have found that the “two-footed therapy” of a long hike gives them plenty of time free of distractions to reflect on their interests and goals and begin envisioning a rewarding civilian life.

In 2012, Sean Gobin, a Marine who served in three combat deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan, institutionalized the restorative power of hiking by starting Warrior Hike, a nonprofit group that brings other vets to the A.T. In return for gear, logistical, and financial support, those admitted to the Warrior Hike program stay on a pre-set schedule to meet with veterans’ organizations and people in communities near the trail. The hope is that these interactions will help veterans build networks and restore their faith in humanity, while also garnering local support for trails.

In 2014, the Walk Off the War Program expanded to the West, bringing the first team of Warrior Hikers to the CDT. This team met a different set of challenges from those on the A.T. Every year, a few dozen people try to thru-hike the CDT, compared to the thousands on the A.T. Remote and wild, the CDT gives hikers a bit of the raw feeling that pioneers must have felt traversing the Rockies for the first time. Because the CDT is an unfinished trail, trekkers sometimes navigate cross-country or follow paved or unpaved roads to connect the disparate parts of the trail, which is only sometimes marked and only sometimes visible. From navigating desert red rock to drinking algae-bloomed, cow-soiled water from troughs, to traversing 14,000-foot snow-covered peaks and icy cornices, the CDT’s varied and harsh terrain begs those who dare to hike it to be flexible, knowledgeable, and unflinching.

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The Trail Show, a Boulder, CO, based podcast that highlights long distance trails around the world, describes the CDT this way: “On any given long trail, there are about ten issues that are going to make your trip tough: navigation, weather, bugs, cold/heat, bad or no water, grizzly bears, snow travel, loneliness, pain, and stomach issues. On most trails, you’re dealing with two or three of those at a time. On the CDT, you’re dealing with at least five, all the time.”

The Warrior Hikers, though, would be dealing with more than just mosquitoes and lightning. For Tom Gathman, an Infantry Rifleman for the Marines who served as a sniper in Iraq, hiking the CDT would provide a space to reflect on his life and service: “I haven’t always been the most disciplined or well-behaved person.

I’ve had a lot of misplaced energy in my life,” he explained. “On trail, I get a chance to come to terms with some of the sights and sounds of being in the service. Sometimes it takes years to understand the gravity, to understand the things you’ve done. But being outside is therapy.”

For Andrew Brennan, a US Army Blackhawk pilot who served in Afghanistan, a trip on the CDT was a place to search for purpose. By the age of 25, he was flying a $10 million aircraft with twelve passengers on board in enemy-held territory. When he returned from service, his civilian job as a warehouse supervisor was unfulfilling. Andrew told me, “You don’t join the military for pay or benefits. You are there to serve, to lead, and to live for a higher calling. Going from that to the private sector, which is so often about just getting a paycheck…it’s hard to wrap your head around that. You’re at a loss. You think, ‘What’s my purpose? Why am I here?’” Going on a long hike would provide Andrew an outlet to answer those questions. He explained, “I wanted space to find a cause that would be worth my time and effort.”

In 2014, Andrew and Tom weren’t the only ones looking for growth on this CDT hike. The Continental Divide Trail itself had a lot to gain from these combat veterans. Although Congress designated the CDT as a National Scenic Trail in 1978, bringing it the same status as its better-known sister trails, the Appalachian Trail and Pacific Crest Trail, it has remained much more obscure.

For years, the CDT was largely ignored by the land management agencies that were supposed to be its advocates.

In 1995, a group of dedicated individuals formed the Continental Divide Trail Alliance (CDTA) to partner with federal agencies to jumpstart the CDT. In the 1990s, the CDTA built and maintained miles of trail and leveraged funding to finally get the CDT in shape. The organization hired the best staff, including Teresa Martinez, a 20-year veteran of trail building and management, from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. But the golden days of the CDT and its trail organization were not to last.

Due to funding challenges, the CDTA dissolved and ceased operations in 2012, leaving talented and committed trail advocates

Two-Footed Therapy: Veterans Walk Off the on the

War

Continental Divide Trail

By Liz Thomas

Tom Gathman in the Collegiate Peaks Wilderness. Photo by Tom Gathman

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Letf: Tom Gathman in Glacier National Park, Montana. RIght: Tom Gathman admiring the view in Glacier National Park, Montana Bottom: The Warrior Hikers in the boot heel of New Mexico at their first CDT information kiosk since the Mexico border. Photos by Tom Gathman

like Teresa out of a job and federal agencies without a partner to maintain the CDT. For nearly a year, hikers and land managers wondered whether the CDT was going to die, reclaimed by erosion and vegetation until it was left unhikeable. But Teresa and a small group of former CDTA staff and volunteers refused to give up on the trail. Although Teresa had to take a job at a bakery to make ends meet, she was determined to work with this group to start a new CDT organization and was positive there were others who wanted the same thing.

When she wasn’t pounding dough, Teresa was in class, learning how to launch an internet-based crowdfunding campaign.

Soon, despite having no marketing budget, her campaign started attracting notice. By the time the campaign closed, over 600 individuals had contributed, providing the funds needed to open up shop. The Continental Divide Trail Coalition (CDTC) was born.

Teresa and the new organization’s founders pledged that the CDTC would have a grassroots mission—a duty to include everyone with a vested interest in the trail: “The CDT is not a me, it is an us,” she explained.

“We can only make this trail as good as the people who love it.”

Still, the CDTC didn’t have the money or people to drive to all the towns along the 3,100-mile path. Teresa dreamed that with the right group of hikers walking the trail, there might be a way to unite with communities across the Divide.

When Teresa heard about the Warrior Hikers on the CDT, she knew they would be the perfect ambassadors for the trail. Be24

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cause the Warrior Hikers were already meeting with veterans’ and civic organizations in each of the trail towns they visited, these hikers could represent the CDT to the most entrenched and dedicated people in those communities. These Warrior Hikers—on the trail to restore themselves—were being part of a cause bigger than a single person: reestablishing a 3,100-mile national treasure that will stay with the American public for generations.

After hiking fewer than 100 miles, the Warrior Hike team already had an unofficial motto: “Never a dull moment on the CDT.” Their military training was certainly an advantage in some respects; map and compass skills were key to finding the way north when following the “trail” from cairn to cairn or post to post. But as time went on, Andrew began to learn that his military mindset wasn’t always going to serve him out of the combat zone.

In the first resupply town, Andrew was bit by a dog, requiring an ER visit. In central New Mexico, he persevered through blisters until one became infected, and his blood turned septic. “The ER doctor told me I was 24 to 36 hours away from death,” Andrew admitted. After a round of antibiotics, he continued on, slogging through chest-deep snow above treeline during storms. A fractured foot took him off trail for seven weeks.

He eventually got back on trail in Colorado with Tom and managed a total of 1,300 miles for the season.

“A normal hiker would have slowed down or would have known to take a break, but I’ve been trained that when you don’t meet

your mission, you’ve failed,” he reflected.

“That hardnosed mentality, I paid for it on the back end.” For Andrew, hiking the CDT made him realize that his military outlook didn’t always translate to the trail, and perhaps, it wasn’t always going to work in civilian life, either.

Without his comrade, Tom continued north. While travel on the Divide may have sometimes been lonely, in each town he was greeted by veterans’ groups, elected officials, and interested residents. Kind locals gave him food, a bed to rest in, and a place to shower and do laundry. Sometimes, towns held parades or festivals for the Warrior Hikers. In Pagosa Springs, CO, a kind couple put the Warrior Hikers up in their barn, let them use their truck, and took care of Tom after a knee injury. Tom explained that the CDT taught him to “really appreciate the little things in life. You don’t take a thing for granted like a little clean water and granola bars from strangers. It helps put things into perspective.”

Tom reflected further about what he learned from the CDT: “Someday, I will be giving back and paying it forward in a big way. Your heart can’t help but want to feel this way after this type of treatment from strangers. It’s an infection, and it spreads like wildfire. I wish our society behaved this way.

Helping others. Helping strangers on a daily basis. It can be as simple as talking to somebody and being kind. We’d all be a lot better off if we just opened our hearts to others.”

After six months, countless storms, and

Continental Divide National Scenic Trail thousands of miles, Tom and one other Warrior Hiker, Shawn Murphy, made it the full distance from Mexico to Canada along the Divide. Tom said of his adventure: “The views, the weather, the wildlife, the wilderness, the water, the sunsets and sunrises, the highs and the lows. I’ve never been more in love with a thing than when I was hiking on the Continental Divide Trail.”

Although Andrew didn’t make it to Canada, he found what he was looking for along the CDT: a higher calling and a civilian mission that he deemed worthy of his time and effort. Since returning from the trail, Andrew has enrolled in business school and is developing a nonprofit veterans’ organization to establish a memorial for the Global War on Terror on the National Mall in DC. But he reflected, “When I was in the service, I had a bad habit of being married to the job. On the trail, it was a like a pendulum swung. Now I’ve got a better sense of worklife balance. I’m not freaking out if I’m not meeting my goals by unrealistic deadlines.

I’m OK with taking four to five hours a week to go play hockey: to enjoy life while I’m living it.”

Along their trip, the Warrior Hikers not only learned how to reconnect with themselves and with their country, but they also helped strengthen the bonds between Divide communities and the trail. In 2014, Teresa was approached by twelve different trail towns, each asking to become official partners with the CDTC. In November, the CDTC was recognized by the Forest Service as its official nonprofit partner for the trail, finally filling the gap left by the lost CDTA. It is a long road ahead—the trail still is only 75% complete and desperately needs volunteers and maintainers to fight back the everencroaching brush. But with the help of the Warrior Hikers—including Tom Gathman, who now works with Teresa to advocate for the trail—the CDTC is no longer just an obscure organization run by a baker, and Teresa’s dream of turning the CDT into a trail loved and cared for by many is becoming a reality.

As the snow falls on the Rocky Mountains, hiking season is over. But already Sean Gobin is organizing another team of Warrior Hikers to start the CDT again this April. Soon Teresa and I will be back in Hachita, shuttling hikers to the CDT’s southern terminus. Soon another crew of veterans will embrace the harsh but purifying powers of the trail and walk the Divide again, tying together the spine of America and the spirit of those who defend it.

Liz Thomas hiked the CDT in 2010 and now works as Information Specialist for the Continental Divide Trail Coalition. An avid long-distance hiker with 12 thru-hikes and 15,000 miles under her feet, she also serves as Vice President of the American Long Distance Association-West.

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PREPARED FOR THE UNEXPECTED DURING THE SUMMER OF 2014, JUSTIN SIMONI RODE HIS BIKE TO THE TRAILHEADS OF ALL THE FOURTEENERS (USING A COUNT OF 58), AND THEN HIKED TO THE TOP OF THEM IN A TIME FASTER TIME THAN ANYONE ELSE: 34 DAYS, 12 HOURS, 26 MINUTES, AND 57 SECONDS. HIS FIRST PEAK WAS PIKES PEAK, AND THE LAST WAS LONGS PEAK.

HOW DID YOU GET THE IDEA TO DO THIS TRIP?

The idea came from a love of riding my bike and seeing where this beautiful machine can take me. I don’t own a car—haven’t in over a decade. So if I want to get out of town, I ride a bike. I’ve ridden across the country three times, around Western Europe, across New Zealand and other smaller trips. Sometimes I ride just to ride, sometimes to get somewhere specific. In Europe, I basically was riding to visit every art museum in the area. For this particular trip I thought, “Let’s bike to all the Colorado 14ers!” I could do them in separate, smaller trips, but it would take literally years to do so. So, going light and fast and linking up everything made sense. I discovered there was already a record, so there was my baseline. Could I come close to that time? Who knew? Let’s find out! And away I went.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO MAKE THE TRIP SELF-SUPPORTED?

Huge, self-supported races are one of the little games I like to play.

I’ve raced in the Tour Divide twice and once on the Colorado Trail.

Both of these are multi-day, self-supported races. Some people like to run marathons or climb technical cliffs or go fishing. But there’s nothing better to me than to train for something so huge that it’s hard to fit it all into your head. Doing all the 14ers in Colorado by bike: How do you imagine a trip like that? What’s it feel like after the first week? It’s exciting to dream about. You just have to go for these sorts of dreams and see what happens. I love the challenge of doing everything from planning the route to figuring out what to eat and where to camp, to keeping yourself motivated while training and en-route.

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WHAT ARE YOUR RULES FOR BEING TOTALLY SELF-SUPPORTED?

Going self-supported basically means that you have to do the entire challenge yourself. You’re carrying all the gear you’ll need. There’s no support waiting for you anywhere. You can go into town and get a hamburger—but only if it’s somewhere like a restaurant that someone else could also use as a resource—and not a friend’s or a fan’s house. Self-supported is different than going fully supported where you could have an entire support crew and vehicles helping you out with every facet of the challenge. In self-supported challenges, if you have to take some sort of help, to me, that’s fine. You just need to state what happened and what you did. Your integrity is still intact.

My full rules for this challenge are pretty detailed, but that’s the gist of it. Luckily, I never needed to hitch a ride the entire time; I never stepped into a motor vehicle.

HOW DID YOU CHOOSE THE ROUTE YOU TOOK UP AND DOWN THE MOUNTAIN? WAS IT ALWAYS THE SHORTEST OR EASIEST, OR DID YOU SOMETIMES CHOOSE THE ROUTE THAT WAS THE MOST FUN?

Choosing the route was one of the most fulfilling parts of this project. I found myself many nights pouring over trip reports, maps, and guidebooks to pick the most awesome way I’d like to tackle all of this. My goal while riding was to keep off of busy, paved highways and instead put myself onto much quieter dirt routes and trails.

Since trailheads to the 14ers are found primarily on these types of roads, the route came together quite naturally.

For example, on my first leg up to Pikes Peak, I rode out of Gold-

A SOLO

JOURNEY

OF THE 14ERS

BY BIKE INTERVIEW BY SARAH GORECKI PHOTOS BY JUSTIN SIMONI

en to the C-470 bike path, and then hopped onto Wadsworth Boulevard until I hit the northern terminus of the Colorado Trail. I rode that until I came to another trail in the local system, which ended at the Rampart Range Road, an all-dirt route that goes to Woodland Park. From there, I rode for a few miles on Highway 24 to the dirt road leading to Crags Campground, the trailhead for Pikes Peak.

Ninety percent of that route was on dirt roads or singletrack. That trailhead then gave me good access to a mostly dirt route through the Shelf Road area and the Wet Mountains to the Crestone Group via the Oak Creek Grade Road. I would piece together the route in that fashion.

When it came to climbing the mountains themselves, I tried to do as many traverses between 14ers as I was comfortable with. I was able to summit the entire Crestone Group (Humboldt, Kit Carson, Challenger, Crestone Peak, and Crestone Needle) in one very long day, which saved a ton of time as I didn’t have to retreat back to my camp. It’s a little risky, as long days put you right in the way of the afternoon monsoon weather pattern, but I was pretty lucky. Other times, doing an entire group of mountains in an area was a little unrealistic for my ability level. I wasn’t prepared to do Lindsey after summiting Little Bear and then Blanca, even though Lindsey and Blanca are somewhat connected by a ridgeline. The traverse involves a 5.6 rated downclimb I didn’t feel comfortable with and then having to reverse—forcing me to summit Blanca twice. In that case I split it up into four days: Lindsey; a rest in Fort Garland; riding to the trailhead for the rest of the Blanca Group (Lake Como); and then summiting Little Bear, Blanca, and Ellingwood.

DID YOU TAKE ANY REST DAYS?

There were no days where I did absolutely nothing but plenty of days where I didn’t hike or summit. To my surprise, I had many days where all I did was ride my bike between mountains. This happened frequently when traveling from one mountain range to another. For example, from Culebra in the Sangres to San Luis in the San Juans, it’s a distance of 175 miles by my route. Traveling from the Elks near Aspen to the Sawatch was another big day where I had to traverse over the Sawatch from west to east before I could even begin. Make no mistake, cycling was a huge part of this challenge.

DID YOU HAVE TO RIDE OR HIKE A LOT IN THE DARK?

I certainly rode quite a bit at night as long as I felt safe doing so.

Riding a bike on Highway 550 in the San Juans isn’t something I’d suggest doing even in the daytime. Out of Ouray there’s no shoulder—just a drop of a few hundred feet! But riding somewhere like the Alpine Loop Backcountry Byway at night is extremely pleasant.

There were only a few days where my hiking would roll over into the night. I planned my route so that I would be climbing the more difficult peaks first and the easier peaks later on. For the most difficult routes, I would do an early alpine start and be done with my day of hiking by 4:00 PM or so. But in the second part of my trip, I was hiking regardless of the time of day. Sometimes my days started at 2:00 AM, sometimes they ended at 2:00 AM. It turned into a more continuous cycle as the mountains were easier and I was on more familiar routes.

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1: Missouri Mountain sunset. 2: A typical camping setup on Handies Peak. 3: I enjoyed perfect conditions to summit Sunlight, Windom, North Eolus, and Eolus in a single push.

DID YOU HAVE ANY CLOSE CALLS WITH LIGHTNING OR OTHER BAD WEATHER?

Sure. I raced the day’s monsoon while doing the Crestone Peak to Needle traverse. I topped out right as the clouds were hitting the west side of the mountains, and I had to literally run down towards Broken Hand Pass, where I finally got stuck. There was just too much lightning around me. I hunkered down and waited that one out. I had another close call on Pyramid after completing the Maroon Peak to North Maroon Traverse and taking a fall on North Maroon, which left me a bit shaken up. Hail began to come down a few hundred feet from the summit of Pyramid, but I decided to risk it, continuing to summit, staying for just a few seconds, and flying down again. I summitted Pyramid at around 5:00 PM, having exceptionally underestimated the difficulty of the peak. I didn’t make it back to my camp until around 9:00 PM. And woke up to a bear staring at me!

HOW DID YOU CARRY EVERYTHING FROM TRAILHEAD TO TRAILHEAD ON YOUR BIKE? DO YOU USE ULTRALIGHT GEAR? I carried a minimal amount of gear with me: a base layer, running shorts, bike jersey, arm warmers, running tights, a few pairs of socks, a pair of glove liners, a lightweight puffy, and a rain layer. I carried all that in a 28

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custom-made bag that fits behind my bike saddle, created by Bolder Bikepacking. My sleep system was a 35-degree bag, a 6-oz bivy sack, a lightweight pad, and a ground cloth for a tent that I used as a tarp. All of that I attached to my handlebars in a stuff sack. When hiking, I utilized a running vest made by Ultimate Direction, another Boulder-based company, instead of a hiking pack. The vest doesn’t have much carrying capacity, but it’s light years more comfortable for running and, as I found out, biking.

WERE YOU TRYING TO RUN AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, OR DID YOU MAINLY HIKE?

I definitely trained as a mountain runner, and my weeks of training were filled with running up and down Green Mountain and Bear Peak in Boulder multiple times a week.

I’m mostly known as a cyclist, but it didn’t take long for my cycling fitness to adapt to running. On tour it depended on the day. I could attempt to run up the mountains, but usually I was too fatigued from cycling and resorted to power hiking. Biomechanically, running uphill and cycling are very similar, so those muscle groups are just getting overworked. When it came to descending, I usually could manage to make good time with an honest run as my legs, used in that way, were fresher. Many days, though, it was truly a fast hike or even a slog up and down.

The hardest days were sometimes the easiest peaks. Bierstadt was one of my hardest summits for sure—I was just destroyed at that point. When I went faster than I needed to, it usually was to race a closing store or the setting sun or the monsoon. I definitely paid for it the next day! Eating some ice cream, though, usually helped matters.

WHAT WAS YOUR MOST EPIC DAY?

Every day seemed to make itself into a mini epic. After the first week, I would just prepare myself for something completely unexpected to happen to me. If it wasn’t some incredible traverse in the mountains, it was a bike ride that was hours longer than I thought; I’d have a bear eat all my food at my camp, leaving me with nothing to eat; I’d meet someone even more out of their mind than I was; or I’d surprise myself with how much energy I had or didn’t have.

The most memorable of these epics was certainly the Snowmass to Capitol linkup.

After summiting Snowmass, it involves traversing over the northeast ridge of Snowmass and crossing over the Pierre Lakes Basin to another couloir to gain the ridgeline up to Capitol’s famous knife edge. This is miles and miles of talus hopping—Pierre Lakes Basin looks like the surface of the moon.

The thunderstorm in the area somehow missed me on Capitol by about a quarter

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3

of a mile, and I raced across the knife edge and back down towards Moon Lake, still hopping giant boulders, past the lake, and well after treeline. From there the terrain was an improbable mess of cliffs, waterfalls, downed trees, and game trails that would go nowhere in particular for miles. Once it got dark and my headlamp faded, things just got miserable. I constantly slipped and fell on all the wet timber and plants, and I had only an idea that this way would even go— that I’d find a cow path that would bring me to a real trail. I finally did reach the trailhead at around midnight, and I passed out right then and there.

The next morning I rode out to Basalt and rode over a 12,000-foot pass all the way to Leadville. I happened to hit town on the night of the Leadville Trail 100. I was sitting in Quincy’s enjoying their prime rib, when I’d periodically be asked if I had just won the Leadville 100! I was at the base of the Mount of the Holy Cross before I was asleep again, more than 100 miles from my previous camp. The days after that I pushed the pace and probably went a little crazy from the effort. I managed another five summits in one marathon day and somehow managed to ride through the night from Guanella Pass to the Longs Peak Trailhead as well as every other peak I needed to summit. I cannot tell you how I was able to do all that.

Every day seemed to make itself into a mini epic. After the first week, I would just prepare myself for something completely unexpected to happen to me.

I also was able to summit Huron, La Plata, Missouri, Belford, and Oxford in one big push, which was somewhat of a surprise as I started my hike at 7:30 AM. All these 14ers can be accessed from Chaffee County Road 390 from three different trailheads. I would hike a group of mountains, then ride my bike to the next trailhead and repeat until I ran out of mountains.

The easiest quintuplet done was Democrat, Lincoln, Cameron, and Bross in the Mosquitos, followed by Quandary Peak in the Tenmile Range. Climbing for that day was over before 3:00 PM, and I ended the day at the trailhead for Grays and Torreys. A pretty easy day in the mountains in comparison to the Crestone Group, but I still had to cross the Continental Divide on my bike, twice!

IN ADDITION TO BEING AN ATHLETE, YOU’RE ALSO I look back, and I surprise myself! There’s a AN ARTIST. WERE YOU ABLE TO DO ANY ART WHILE lesson to be learned in that, I think.

YOU WERE OUT ON THE TRAIL FOR 34 DAYS? WHAT WERE THE MOST PEAKS YOU DID IN A DAY?

There were three days when I was able to summit five 14ers (by my count) in a day.

Humboldt, Kit Carson, Challenger, Crestone Peak, and Crestone Needle were done in one day. I also summitted Columbia Point, a high 13er between Kit Carson and Challenger Point on this same day, somewhat by accident!

I always look at these sorts of projects as art projects. The route to me is essentially a drawing, and acting everything out is a performance. I even wrote out an artist statement for this project. To me, art is the attempt to make a conceptual idea into reality no matter if that thing is a drawing or a dance, a book, or whatever. For this, it was to complete something that wasn’t easy, and do it faster than it had ever been done.

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Hiking the High Sierra: John Muir Trail Delivers Daily Dose of Breathtaking Beauty

Getting up early was worth it when I caught the sunrise alpenglow above Garnet Lake.

Story and Photos by Blair Johnson

n the eve of my longawaited, 220-mile John Muir Trail (JMT) hike in California's High Sierra, I thought I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

It was August 3, 2011, and my friend Phil and I wanted one last fine-dining experience before hitting the trail for three weeks of freeze-dried fare. As we were being seated in one of Yosemite Valley’s nicer restaurants, I congratulated a man at the next table wearing an “I Climbed Mt. Whitney” T-shirt.

He looked up—and then went off!

“Oh, I didn’t just climb Mt. Whitney,” the man bellowed. “I did the whole JMT.” “How was it?” I asked, eager to get the latest trail report. He stood up and started ranting.

“It was a nightmare,” he shouted. “I had 30

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two or three near-death experiences! The snow was knee-deep on most of the passes and you couldn’t even find the trail on some of them. You had to hope the snow bridges wouldn’t give way and drop you into some ice-cold stream.

“We also had lightning on Mt. Whitney,” he added. “And a helicopter had to evacuate people because the rivers and creeks were running so high.”

Growing concerned, I grabbed my trail map and had him show me the trouble spots. With the map covered with warnings and the fear of God in me, I shuffled back to my table, looked at Phil in horror—and ordered a double scotch. What had I gotten myself into?

Fortunately, my thru-hike turned out to be a safe—and unforgettable—experience of a lifetime. Based on the jaw-dropping

alpine scenery and the generally dry summer Sierra Nevada weather—we had five minutes of rain in 18 days—I strongly recommend hiking the entire John Muir Trail, especially if you do just one long backpacking trip in your life. Or if you like mental and physical challenges. Or if you love the writings of its namesake, America’s most influential conservationist and the founder of the Sierra Club.

I’d dreamed of hiking the John Muir Trail for close to a decade. But you don’t just wake up one day and decide to do the JMT. It takes many months of planning—and training.

Among other things, you’ll need to do a lot of research, talk to people who did it, get in the best shape of your (adult) life, and dig out all the backpacking equipment in your basement to decide what to replace with “ul-

My trail running shoes, colorful gaiters, and trekking poles kept me bouncing along the John Muir Trail.

I began my John Muir Trail hike at the Happy Isles Trailhead in Yosemite Valley.

tralight” gear. You’ll also need to plan—and weigh—your meals, decide how many days of food will squeeze into the bear canister you’re required to carry, and arrange resupply places where you can ship additional food to pick up along the trail. It’s a lot of work, but it’s time and money well spent.

Permit Patience

Before applying for a JMT wilderness permit reservation, you have to decide when to go, when you’ll finish, which trailheads you’d be willing to start from, and how many people will be in your party. Sounds easy enough, but the permit process can be as daunting as a trip to the Department of Motor Vehicles. You’ll find detailed instructions on the Yosemite National Park website, but the preferred way to apply is to print an online form and fax—yes, fax—it to the Yosemite wilderness rangers precisely 168 days before you hope to start hiking.

Permits are hard to get because rangers want to limit the number of hikers on the trail, which passes through the stunning scenery of three national parks, two national forests, two wilderness areas, and a national monument. Roughly 70% of all JMT thruhike permit applications are denied, so having your fax randomly selected is as hard as buying Springsteen tickets on the phone in the old days.

After striking out twice, Phil and I decided our best chance would be to try for a mid-week departure and apply as solo hikers. That paid off when I got a reservation to start from Happy Isles, the traditional starting point for southbound JMT hikers.

Phil and I enjoy a beer as we decide how much of my initial resupply provisions will fit in my bear canister.

Phil wasn’t so lucky, but he eventually got a “walk-up” permit by lining up outside the Yosemite wilderness rangers’ office at four in the morning the day we planned to leave.

After a ranger’s sobering warning about the “epic” snowpack and high water that year—and the need for an ice axe and crampons, which we didn’t have—we were finally on our way!

Leaving Happy Isles, the first few miles of the JMT are strangely enough paved with asphalt, presumably because of erosion and heavy traffic from the hordes of day hikers who don’t venture far from Yosemite Valley. The trail is steep and climbs quickly, giving you close-up looks at Vernal and Nevada Falls and Yosemite’s most iconic rock formation, Half Dome. As Phil and I chugged up and up out of Yosemite Valley, I remember feeling glad I’d spent so much time hiking and at the gym before leaving for California.

Given the rapid elevation gain—from about 4,000 feet at Happy Isles to 9,700 feet on Cathedral Pass—we decided to take two days to hike the 27 miles to Tuolumne Meadows. (Youngsters sometimes cover that same ground in a day, but then ultra runners have done the entire 220 miles in less than three and a half days!)

After picking up my first resupply bucket at the Tuolumne Meadows Post Office, I started sifting through the provisions. A couple veteran thru-hikers sitting nearby pointed out that I had more food than I could—or should—carry. So, with their help, I started making tough decisions about what to jettison and what I really

needed.

Because my BearVault 500 canister normally held only a week or so of food, I’d also sent resupply buckets to three other places: Red’s Meadows Resort, 57 miles from Happy Isles; the Muir Trail Ranch, at the halfway point on the JMT; and a motel in the mountain town of Independence.

(Red’s and the Muir Trail Ranch were near the trail, but claiming my last resupply was much more of an ordeal; I’d have to hike eight miles from the JMT over Kearsarge Pass to the Onion Valley Trailhead and then hitch a ride 13 miles into Independence.)

Going Solo

As a recent retiree, I’d forgotten how hard it is to get people to take off three weeks from work. Unfortunately, my friend Phil could only hike the first two days and the beginning of the third day with me—from Yosemite Valley to the crystal-clear Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River.

It was hard to say goodbye to Phil, but I headed off on my own—and promptly got lost. Losing my bearings was one of my fears about hiking alone, but I eventually found the trail after it crisscrossed the log-strewn Lyell Fork.

Camping that night on a granite bluff above the Lyell Fork bridge, I went down after dinner to visit with some hikers who’d set up on the other side of the river. I told them it would make my wife and me feel better if I could join them as they went up and down the first pass, Donohue. With the snow twice as deep as usual, I wasn’t eager to slip Trail & Timberline

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I recognized the stunning Thousand Island Lake immediately from Ansel Adams’ classic black and white photographs.

was trying to convince me I wasn’t that hungry. Perhaps most importantly, at Red’s I could buy more denatured alcohol, the fuel I used in my lightweight, homemade tunacan stove.

After a night in Red’s backpackers’ campground, I walked through an eerie forest charred by a 1992 lightning fire but already showing signs of new life.

“Rock it Through the Wilderness”

and hurtle hundreds of feet downhill like a human bobsled into rocks or an alpine lake!

The three campers—a couple, Jordan and Sarah, and their friend Ben—were in their mid-20s and hailed from the Modesto area in California’s Central Valley. They said they were glad to have me join them whenever I wanted. And even though I was 54 and had kids almost their age, Sarah, Jordan, and Ben became my best friends for the next three weeks.

Why Bear Canisters Are Required

As they packed up the next morning, Ben told me a black bear visited their campground the night before last as he was sleeping under the stars 10 yards away. From his front-row seat, Ben watched in horror as the bear picked up their food canisters one at a time, raised them over its head, and threw them down on a boulder. Fortunately, the canisters took a licking and, to the bear’s consternation, were unscathed.

Bears were the least of our concerns as we approached 11,050-foot Donohue Pass, but it proved easier than expected. Walking closely together, kicking footholds in the snow, and leaning heavily on our trekking poles, our first pass, while mentally exhaust32

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ing, proved less daunting and treacherous than most of the other passes that awaited us.

At the summit, we left Yosemite for the Ansel Adams Wilderness, forded Rush Creek, and climbed 10,200-foot Island Pass. On the way down Ben and I reached Thousand Island Lake, a gorgeous Sierra landmark made famous by Adams’ black and white photographs. After camping with some North Carolina hikers that night, I got up early the next morning to photograph the incredible pink and orange alpenglow over Garnet Lake.

Ben, Sarah, Jordan, and I hiked on and off together for the next few days, crossing the San Joaquin River, cruising by the bizarre columnar basalt formations at the Devil’s Postpile National Monument, and eventually reaching Red’s Meadow Resort and Pack Station, our next resupply.

Red’s is hardly a resort by most standards, but it offered home-cooked food and showers, things I needed badly. Although the showers weren’t working, I gorged myself in their café, knowing that I needed to take in as many calories and as much protein as I could. Eating so much was harder than you’d think, though, because the altitude

Hiking alone and sometimes with Ben or an Australian couple in their 60s, I kept heading south past serene Lake Virginia and up Silver Pass to the dreaded Bear Ridge. We’d heard how grueling the steady climb up Bear Ridge was, so Ben and I decided to tackle it at top speed! For inspiration, I pulled out my iPod Shuffle and played the JMT mix I’d made just for these moments. The rock ’n’ roll was like jet fuel for my tired legs and it helped rocket me up the never-ending ridge.

After marveling at Marie Lake, one of the prettiest spots on the JMT, we headed up Selden Pass to Sally Keyes Lake and eventually to Muir Trail Ranch, where I picked up my third resupply bucket and made a critical decision. I decided not to get my final resupply at a motel miles away in Independence so I could celebrate on top of Mt. Whitney with Ben, Sarah, and Jordan. (Their permit required them to finish the JMT a few days before I’d planned.) Although foregoing the last resupply meant carrying more food than my bear canister could hold and mooching from my friends when my supplies dwindled, I wouldn’t have to look for total strangers to hug and high five on top of Whitney!

With our bear canisters overflowing, we left Muir Trail Ranch and soon crossed into Kings Canyon National Park and some of the most remote and scenic backcountry along the JMT. The next day we came to the fastest water we had to ford. Evolution Creek usually isn’t too deep, but in 2011 it was running above our waists in places. Fortunately, our trekking poles gave us enough stability to navigate our way safely across.

Hiking on through the enchanting McClure and Colby meadows, we ended the day at starkly beautiful Evolution Lake,

Sarah led us down Muir Pass—even though we had no idea where the trail was because the snow was so deep.

where the four of us took an icy dip, and Ben proved an inflatable sleeping pad could double as a raft. After all, everything you carry should have dual uses!

For the next few days in Kings Canyon, we had to tackle at least one major, character-building pass every day. Given their altitude—all about 12,000 feet or higher—and the snowpack, the passes seemed more formidable the closer we got. Coming down the first one, Muir Pass, we had no idea where the trail was because the snow was so deep.

Sarah bravely led us down, carefully avoiding the melting snow bridges that could have collapsed at any time. The passes that came next—Mather, Pinchot, and Glen—proved just as challenging as Muir, but snow-covered Forester Pass—13,200 feet at the summit— was the toughest.

Going for the Summit

Coming down Forester on several exposed switchbacks cut into the rock, we dropped into Sequoia National Park and knew we were ready for our assault on the 14,505-foot Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the lower

Ben and I reached the summit of 14,505-foot Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the lower 48 states, after 17 days of hiking.

48 states.

Approaching Mt. Whitney from the JMT meant we faced significantly less climbing than the poor souls who started at 8,300 feet on the other side. Not surprisingly, on our way to the summit, we passed several day hikers strewn along the trail, doubled over with altitude sickness or dehydration.

On the way up, I also passed a delightful French Canadian couple I’d hiked with earlier to practice my French. The young man was worried because he’d secretly planned to propose to his girlfriend at the top of Mt. Whitney, and she was clearly struggling with the altitude.

Fortunately, all the folks I hiked with safely reached the summit of Mt. Whitney. After Ben and I dropped our packs, took in the breathtaking panoramas, and posed for the triumphant photos we’d envisioned, I called my wife, who was traveling in upstate New York, to tell her I’d made it. “I can see you,” I told her, before my voice cracked and I was overcome with emotion.

Despite all my training, there were a couple times, such as on the Golden Staircase,

when I wondered why I ever wanted to hike the JMT and if I had the intestinal fortitude to finish it. Thankfully, every day brought an even more beautiful meadow, majestic mountain range, or magnificent alpine lake that made me want to see what was beyond the next bend.

As Ben, Sarah, Jordan, and I descended the last 9 miles—and dozens of switchbacks—to Whitney Portal, I couldn’t believe I’d hiked the entire 220 miles in 18 days without knee or ankle problems, or even a bad blister.

Unlike the fellow in the Yosemite Valley restaurant who called his thru-hike a “nightmare,” I was elated, and filled with a sense of accomplishment I’d never felt before. My only regrets were that I couldn’t share the adventure with my friend Phil or my wife and kids—and that my backpacking beard was so lame.

Blair Johnson is the former President of the Board of Colorado Environmental Coalition and lives in Littleton. Now he serves on the Earthjustice Council and the Board of Greater Yellowstone Coalition.

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STORY AND PHOTOS BY DENISE SNOW

High on the

A CMC ADVENTURE TRAVEL TREK

he Haute Route is a popular ski route in winter and a trekking route in summer that stretches from the base of Mont Blanc in Chamonix, France, to the foot of the Matterhorn in Zermatt, Switzerland. Haute (pronounced “oat”) is French for “high” and encompasses an average of one mountain pass crossing per day.

In its entirety it covers over 108 miles with over 39,000 feet of elevation gain and over 32,000 feet of elevation loss. I led an intrepid group of five adventurers on a two-week trip of the Haute Route in August of 2014.

Our trek was entirely on the Swiss portion of the route, starting in Champex on the western border with France and ending at St. Niklaus, which lies in the Mattertal valley near Zermatt.

You might ask, “Why should I leave our wonderful mountains in Colorado to trek 34

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Haute Route

in another mountainous area like Switzerland”? My answer is that I have found Switzerland to be the best supported hiking destination of anywhere in the world. Hiking is ingrained in the Swiss culture, and everywhere you turn there are signposts pointing in multiple directions to a new place waiting to be explored. You can hike for days on end from point to point never having to carry a tent, sleeping bag, stove, or food because there are always huts, mountain hotels, or small villages to overnight in. When you tire of one particular area, public transportation in the form of buses, trains, boats, or cable cars awaits to transport you somewhere else.

The history of climbing is rich here, and romantic images are always recalled by mention of the names Matterhorn, Eiger, and Jungfrau. In addition, the incredible scenery of towering peaks, glaciers, alpine meadows,

The Matterhorn with Stellisee in the foreground.

and peaceful villages rival any hiking destination in North America.

That said, I had the job of convincing Martin O’Grady, Bob Watkins, Marilyn Logan, Rick Andrews, and Carol Schmitz that this trip was indeed worth the money, time, and effort. For most, it was their first time to Switzerland and for some their first time in Europe. Currently Switzerland is ranked as one of the most expensive countries in the world to travel to. However, one advantage of Switzerland for hiking inexpensively is that it caters to persons on foot with lodging in either huts or hotels and pensions that offer dormitory accommodations.

Our trip started with a little bit of excitement when Bob and Rick were stranded in the luggage area of the Geneva airport for over an hour due to a bomb scare. It turned out to be an innocent mistake of a left bag,

From the Cabane des Dix looking toward the Pas de Chèvres.

and soon our shuttle service transported us from the airport to our hotel in Champex.

The hotel was situated right on the lake called Champex Lac, and the stress of the long flight soon melted away as we lounged on the lakeside patio with beer, Rösti (a popular Swiss potato dish), and Mövenpick ice cream (my all-time favorite).

Trekking life on the Haute Route consists mainly of a similar routine every day.

First: Get up in time for breakfast, which is normally from 7:30 to 8:00 (the high mountain huts usually start breakfast at 7:00); Second: Hike and take lots of pictures until stopping at a beautifully situated little restaurant to have a beer and lunch on the terrace while overlooking some awe-inspir-

ing glaciated peak(s); Third: Hike some more with still more picture taking until you reach the overnight destination; Fourth: Take a hot shower and put on your evening attire (the clothes you didn’t hike in that day); Fifth: Partake in the 3–4 course dinner offered by the establishment, along with the beer and/or wine of choice, and; Sixth: Head to bed to recover for the next day.

The summer of 2014 was one of Switzerland’s coolest and wettest, with many businesses which relied on summer tourism suffering as a result. Many of the hotels were not even half full. However, other than a few wet days, we were rewarded with mostly dry and partly sunny weather, albeit cool. One

day at our highest overnight location, the Cabane des Dix at 2,928 meters, we even had snow.

Our trekking experience consisted of hiking well manicured paths/roads through small villages, hiking through small alp farms amongst cows and sheep, bells ringing melodically about their necks, crossing sections of glacier, climbing up a snowfield, scrambling over boulders, and even steeply ascending the Pas de Chèvres (the goat path) via exposed ladders and a ramp.

All of the trails were incredibly well marked. At every intersection there were poled signs showing the direction to various locations, often with the estimated travel times. In between were various signs via painted rocks, buildings, road, or whatever was handy. One day when crossing the Grand Désert, amongst all the debris of a reTrail & Timberline

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The Grand Combin.

Above Jungen looking over the Mattertal.

ceding glacier, the trail was faint to nonexistent. To provide direction, sometimes there were painted signs on the rocks every ten feet. Martin commented that this was a bit of overkill until a fog settled down around our feet. Then we were grateful for the frequency of the markers. The topographic maps for the area did not give the declination of the area. When we inquired with various hut keepers, no one seemed to know what it was. Finding this unusual, I asked a Swiss friend of mine what it was, and he replied that he didn’t know, and asked, “Why do you need a compass when you have all of 36

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Marilyn Logan crossing the Pas de Chèvres with the Mont Blanc de Cheilon in the background.

Bob Watkins, Marilyn Logan, Carol Schmitz, Martin O'Grady & Rick Andrews.

these signs telling you where to go?”

Virtually every day was a panoramic extravaganza dominated primarily by the mountains towering before us. We were first awed by the Grand Combin, with several distinct summits over 4,000 meters, its great Glacier de Corbassière flowing down in a series of terraces. Then there was Rosablanche, with its dying glaciers and gaunt scree forming the Grand Désert that was such a sharp contrast to the gleaming white snow of the upper slopes. After a day of fog and bleakness and a hairy water crossing, at the top of the Col de Prafleuri the Mont Blanc de

Cheilon presented itself to us in a blaze of light and splendor. The next day, in the Cabane des Dix at the foot of the Mont Blanc de Cheilon, we were rewarded with panoramic views of its glaciers through the hut’s huge picture windows. We got our first glimpse of the newly snow covered Matterhorn on our way down from the Col de Sorebois as well as the majestic Weisshorn.

But perhaps our finest views occurred on the last two days of our trek as we first skirted the west side of the Mattertal, 4,000 feet above the valley floor. Across the valley towered the Dom, at 4,545 meters the highest

Lac de Moiry.

mountain situated entirely in Switzerland.

Then we were privileged with yet another profile of the Weisshorn, and at the head of the valley, the great glacier-covered massif that runs between the Monte Rosa and the Matterhorn. The next day we were awestruck with the views near Zermatt while we savored the impressive Matterhorn from numerous viewpoints, including the classic view from Lake Stellisee.

We were fortunate on our trip to see Alpine ibex, also known as steinbock in German. The males of these mountain sheep-like animals sport a majestic rack of

scimitar-shaped horns with knobby joints and are incredibly spry at climbing rocks.

We also saw chamois, or gemse in German, a mountain antelope-like animal with shorter antelope-type horns, that is timid and rarely seen. We also saw two bartgeier, large Condor-like birds of the vulture family only seen in the Alps. One day we watched for 20 minutes four baby Marmots play, roll, tumble, and frolic in an alpine meadow. And to describe the prolific array of alpine wildflowers, including the sometimes rare and beautiful Edelweiss, would take days.

During the trek the group became a cohesive unit; all appeared to enjoy each other’s company. But our trip all too soon came to an end with only our memories and pictures to remind us of those glorious days. If you are interested in learning more about the Haute Route, you can go online and visit many sites with trip reports or guided trips. A very useful resource is Chamonix to Zermatt: The Classic Walker’s Haute Route, by Kev Reynolds, a Cicerone Guide. Maps for the route are referenced in Reynolds’ book and are easily obtained online from various resources.

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ICE,ICE‒Maybe

By Woody Smith

Ice Mountain is the middle peak of the Three Apostles. Photo courtesy of David Hite

have taken some long hikes. Rio Grande Pyramid (13,821’), in southern Colorado, a 20-mile round trip, done solo one glorious September day in 1999 is a favorite memory. “Just keep hiking,” I had said. I left camp at 8 AM and was back by 6:30 PM that evening. Good time. Beautiful country.

Another long hike was California’s Mt. Whitney (14,505’) also about 20 miles round trip, climbed by me and my sister Jennifer, in September 1998. We left the car at 6 AM, returning 18 hours later in the dark with one barely functioning flashlight between us. We had climbed the Mountaineer’s route and descended the pedestrian route. We ran out of water on the way up and refilled with giardialaced water. My second encounter, my sister’s first. The next day she felt worse. Our lodging on that trip was at the Dow Villa Motel in Lone Pine, the same place as a CMC party in 1939. My mattress was so lumpy the joke developed that it was the same one used byCarl Blaurock on their visit 59 years earlier.

But my longest hike could be Ice Mountain (13,951’) in the Sawatch Range south of 38

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Leadville. From trailhead to summit it took me almost 13 years.

It didn’t start that way. Back around the turn of the last century I was on a roll. I had finished the 14ers and was knocking off the rest of Colorado’s hundred highest at a good clip. By September of 2001 I had climbed 80 of the Centennial Peaks. Preferring not to hike in snow, my climbing season ends when winter starts. That year the mountains stayed dry into October and I set out on a try for the twin summits of North Apostle (13,860’) and Ice. October 6, 2001, came bright and clear.

Parking near Winfield, I hiked the jeep road to Hamilton, also the west-side trailhead for Huron Peak (14,001’). But my trail went south to Apostle Basin away from everyone.

The hike was pleasant enough, the trail not too steep. However, glimpses of The Three Apostles looming ahead tightened the stomach. At a trail junction I made that day’s mistake, heading for Lake Ann instead of Apostle Basin—the guidebook misled me, I maintain. Nearly an hour was lost before I

turned around and went the right way.

My first goal was North Apostle, reportedly the easier of the two, but as I found, not easy. It is a long and steep hike, with the upper basin being a test of your bouldering and rubble-hopping skills. From the 13,460-foot saddle between Ice and North Apostle it was a steep 400 feet on loose rocks of all sizes. By the time I reached the summit and returned to the saddle it was 2:30 PM. It was late and I was too tired to go for Ice anyway—it did look rough—so I headed down. It was the prudent decision; I reached my car at dusk.

But the tradeoff was Ice Mountain became my white whale.

The second attempt occurred on August 20, 2004. This time I brought company, a CMCer named Dolf Hall, who was also trying to climb Colorado’s hundred highest. I had bought a pickup truck in the interim so we were able to drive to the 4WD trailhead.

We made good time, though Dolf was in better shape and I lagged behind. We agreed to meet at the saddle and he went ahead to get North Apostle. We met as planned though he

reported verglace—ice on North Apostle.

Not eager to turn around, I urged a start up Ice’s northeast ridge. But it soon became obvious we weren’t adequately equipped, having no ice axes, crampons, or ropes. Down we went.

Our next visit, my third, was exactly one year later, August 20, 2005. We had been to Chicago Basin the month before. Dolf had finished his 14ers and I had climbed Jupiter Peak, my 84th, so we were reasonably confident we could get up Ice this time. We had also brought equipment, so our packs were heavy. As usual, I lagged behind Dolf on the uphill, but as we reached Apostle Basin something else was at work—altitude sickness. I rarely get it, but on this day I did. I laid down on smooth granite ribs, trying to get my will back. But to no avail, and I soon went back to the car and waited for Dolf to return, successfully, I figured.

A few hours later he returned, but he had not made the summit, turning back high on the northeast ridge, feeling it prudent to retreat. The upper reaches of the mountain were unwelcoming.

We returned nearly a year later, July 23, 2006, with the plan of avoiding the northeast ridge altogether. We would try climbing the steep couloir leading to the saddle between Ice and West Apostle (13,568’), and go up the west side of Ice, which was reportedly less hazardous. But we had not counted on just how steep and relatively smooth this couloir was, a long way to tumble down. We lost our nerve about two-thirds of the way up and retreated. Turned back a fourth time, I began to wonder if I would ever make it to the summit of Ice. Three years passed before our next attempt, in the meantime two car accidents had left me with a bad back and a softer head.

I wondered if I could even make it up Ice. Nonetheless with the help of pain pills I was going to try.

My fifth attempt, again with Dolf, was made on August 9, 2009 via Lake Ann and West Apostle (13,568’). It’s a long way around and by the time we had climbed West Apostle and descended the ridge toward Ice, daylight began to be a factor. Certainly my achy back did not help our speed, and again we retreated.

Five years elapsed before another attempt.

I had not hiked much, and had lost track of Dolf, but my back was finally feeling better.

In July 2014 I had climbed Longs Peak with my sister, and was considering trying for a Centennial Peak—I had been stuck on #84

since 2005. Ice was the logical choice: it was the closest one to Denver and avoiding it wouldn’t get it done.

As summer ended I made my plan. Climb in September up the Northeast Ridge, the direct route. By then old snow should have melted and new snow would not yet have fallen. I would not bring crampons or ice axe or helmet as they were burdensome and would hopefully not be needed. If I encountered anything really tricky, I would be prudent and retreat.

I attempted to recruit a climbing partner, but it was difficult due to the nature of the climb. No greenhorns. In the end I went solo, which seemed right since it was my climb. I selected the day, watched the weather, and gathered supplies: peanuts, raisins, 100 Grand bars, Yoo-hoo chocolate milk, and summit pudding. Map, altimeter, longies, fleece, windbreaker, wind jacket, knit hats, baseball hat, gloves, backpack, pain pills, boots, four pairs of socks, cooler for ice cold milk, and afterward, Hostess Coffee Cake, a small reward for punishing myself on mountains. You, health nut, may eat your granola bar.

As usual before a climb, sleep was sparse.

Maybe two hours worth. I was on the road by 4 AM, fortified by the climber’s friend, caffeine. This time I would hike from Winfield, a fourteen-mile round trip and 3,700 feet of elevation gain. To Leadville via I-70 and south 20 miles to the Clear Creek Road I drove, turning west onto the gravel road just after sunrise. This was the sixth time I had bumped my way up that road with Ice Mountain as my goal. Was it the last? I didn’t know, I just kept going.

I started hiking around 7:30 AM. The sky was blue, the aspen were golden, and it was going to be a lovely fall day in Colorado’s mountains whether I made the summit or not. The date was September 17, 2014.

There were other hikers out, but they were headed for Huron Peak. I was glad to leave them behind—all that talking. I wondered if I would see anyone else. I did my best to make time. My back was not too bad, and I did not make any wrong turns, reaching the 13,460-foot saddle about 11:45 AM. Later than planned, but I was glad to be there. 500 feet to go. It had taken me ten years to return to this point on the mountain. All the planning and effort hinged on what lay ahead in the next hour.

I was ready for my chance, but nervous.

Scanning the ridge above did little to reveal the route. No matter, I was about to find

out first hand. I didn’t feel much like eating, but I had some raisins and drank a Yoo-hoo.

Soothes the stomach. The view was swell: golden aspen down valley and the distant Elk Range, but unfinished business nagged. Up I started.

Following the ridge crest for a few hundred feet, I was careful to watch for cairns—a comfort to the solo hiker on rough terrain.

The ridge narrows and the trail crosses the top of a couloir, which is where I encountered the first bit of snow that day. There was not much of it, but it made me more cautious. If I’d brought my ice axe this would’ve been a good time to get it out.

The cairns then led up a small chute about 25 feet long with loose yellow gravel and into a second larger and more rugged couloir. At the top of the couloir was a small cliff with large boulders at its base. If there had been ice and snow here I would’ve been out of luck, but it was mostly dry with snow in patches.

However, there was no clear route, so I examined the choices. On the left was a wide gully of the same crumbly yellow rock as in the small chute. It was topped by a small circular cliff about ten feet high. It looked too wide to wedge, with crumbly handholds and a 20 to 30 foot fall if you slipped. In the center were large boulders at the base of a 10 to 15-foot high block of rock. No obvious route presented itself. On the right was the opposite wall of the couloir: it was jagged, but about 15 to 20 feet high and not broken enough to present easy passage.

I was stumped. None of these routes looked good. I was alone, high on the mountain and had to decide. Was I really going to have to turn around again? I chased the thought away and re-examined the choices.

Yes, the wide yellow gully was definitely too dangerous. And I couldn’t really see a way up those boulders. But maybe, I could get up the west side of the couloir. A few feet up there was a series of small ledges about a foot and a half wide leading to the next level.

That seemed the best route up. I would worry about down later.

Friction was the key. Carefully I picked my way up the nearly vertical rock, reaching the steps in a few seconds. Although the fall back into the couloir would have been only 5 to 10 feet, I felt better crouching down and crawling up the narrow ledges. The ledges topped out on a solid block, and rising, I looked around and saw that there was no more mountain to climb—the summit was just 50 feet away.

“Yay…,” I said, and walked stiffly the last Trail & Timberline

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few steps to the top.

It was about 12:45 PM. The usual summit rituals commenced. I found the register.

Signed in. The pen barely worked. I re-traced my name. I had meant to look for Dolf’s name but flipping through the tattered register felt like too much work. Odd, considering the amount of effort it took to get there. A summit photo—it was the last on my disposable camera. I took a short video: it shows me and my stiff back walking on the summit ridge. There was butterscotch pudding. Two of them. More Yoo-hoo, and a half pill for pain—not too much. Water. Caffeine—not enough. And even a few snowflakes. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Quickly 20 minutes had passed. I was in no mood to dally. Now that I was up, I wanted to get down. I’d thought about returning via West Apostle, but that route was not easy either. It was longer and I would have to find

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the trail somewhere below.

I headed back the way I came, walking onto the farthest point on top of the northeast ridge, to a perch above the wide yellow couloir and the big boulders I had chosen not to climb up. I did not want to down climb the ledges. And the wide yellow couloir still looked too dangerous. My choice seemed to be down the big boulders. But how to do it?

Before there was too much time to think, I found myself starting down. The practiced mountaineer—I wedged between the boulders, deftly descending the 15 feet down into the big couloir. It was so smooth I surprised myself.

I made up for that by getting confused in the small yellow chute. When you climb up, you may not notice the bottom ends in a small cliff. But when you come down, the loose gravel and dropoff works your psyche.

I backed off twice, thinking I had somehow

gotten off route. So I descended the big couloir and worked my way along the ridge until intersecting the couloir I had climbed to the saddle. It wasn’t until later that I figured out what I had done wrong.

When I reached the bottom of the couloir into upper Apostle Basin, at about 13,200 feet, I began to allow myself some glee.

“Yay!” I said. I had finally gotten up that sucker and the rough stuff was over. I would get down OK. The descent was without incident, and I finally saw people again at the Hamilton Trailhead. I reached my car near Winfield about 5:30 PM, making for a ten-hour day.

“Ya-a-ay,” I said again, triumphantly tired.

I celebrated by taking my boots off, rinsing my feet with cold water, and donning fresh socks. There was ice cold milk, Hostess coffee cake, and a refreshing smoke. The fall colors were golden, and I had finally finished my longest hike. △

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CMC Adventure Travel See cmc.org/AdventureTravel for complete trip listings, and check back often, as new trips are added by the Adventure Travel Committee throughout the year.

Canyon de Chelley April 12–16 and April 16–20, 2015 (two trips) Trip Leader: Janet Farrar CMC Members: $675 Non-member Guests: $695 Spend five days hiking and exploring the canyons, arches, Indian ruins, and Navajo culture in this exceptional national monument in Arizona. The hikes are rated “A” (easy) and the camping includes meals.

Grand Canyon Raft & Hike April 25–May 7, 2015 Trip Leaders: Blake Clark and Rosemary Burbank CMC Members: $4,465 Non-member Guests: $4,600 The trip of a lifetime! Take a motorized raft trip and add five extra days for hiking along the way. This 12-day raft trip ends with a helicopter ride out of the canyon and a short airplane flight back to the put-in.

Camino de Santiago, Spain: To the End of The Way May 9–25, 2015 Trip Leader: Kris Ashton CMC Members: $1,315 Non-member Guests: $1,354 Walk the Camino Frances (French Route) from the small town of Sarria in Spain to Santiago de Compostela, and then on to the coast at Finisterre and Muxia. Stay in private albergues, or small pensions, eat local specialties, and experience a variety of fabulous scenery. We’ll meet many other people from around the world and enjoy their company as we travel “The Way” together.

Grand Canyon Backpack May 22–29, 2015 Trip Leader: Tim Musil CMC Members: $605 Non-member Guests: $623 Experience the depths of one of the world’s great natural wonders while backpacking in the Grand Canyon.

Scorpion Gulch Utah Llama Trip May 4–8, 2015 Trip Leader: Carol Kurt CMC Members: $1,597 Non-member Guests: $1,697

Hiking & Rafting on the Yampa and Green Rivers June 8–12, 2015 Trip Leader: Patrick McKinley CMC Members: $1,312 Non-member Guests: $1,352

Enjoy five days of hiking through some of Utah’s most famed slot canyons and pristine desert. Basecamp is in a side canyon of the Escalante River in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. Llamas carry all camping gear and guides provide the meals—what more can you ask?

Five days of river rafting on the Yampa River through Dinosaur National Monument with day hikes to historical, archeological, and other natural sites. Oar boats, inflatable kayaks, and paddle boats will be used.

Scotland’s Highland Way and Ben Nevis Climb May 13–26, 2015 Trip Leaders: Linda and David Ditchkus CMC Members: $3,040 Non-member Guests: $3,131

World Summit Series: Mt. Elbrus/Russia; 18,510 feet July 14–26, 2015 Trip Leader: Steve Bonowski CMC Members: $3,065 Non-member Guests: $3,157

Hike Scotland’s West Highland Way for 95 miles beside lochs, waterfalls, and craggy mountains in the Scottish Highlands. Then climb to the summit of “the Ben” (4,409 feet), weather permitting. Bonus tours of medieval Edinburgh, Stirling, the Eliean Donan Castle, and a Scotch distillery.

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High altitude mountaineering trip to one of the Seven Summits—18,510-foot Mt. Elbrus—the highest mountain in Europe and Russia. After the climb, take a Moscow city tour for a Russian cultural experience.

In-State Outing: Grand Lake August 2–7, 2015 Director: Linda Ditchkus CMC members: $475 Non-member Guests: $490

Best Hikes of Italy September 13–25, 2015 Trip Leader: Kris Ashton CMC Members: $3,975 Non-member Guests: $4,095

The annual In-State Outing is summer camp for adults! Celebrate Rocky Mountain National Park’s 100th anniversary by visiting the Park’s west side with its breathtaking natural beauty, stunning peaks, and lesser-used trails. Camp at Elk Creek Campground, with cabin options. Great food, great company, and great hikes!

Tour the sights of Milan, travel to the Dolomite region, on to beautiful Lake Garda, and then to our final destination, Cinque Terre on the Italian Riviera, where we’ll hike the spectacular coastal path, take a cooking class, and enjoy time in the small towns or at the beach. We’ll end our adventure back in Milan.

Yosemite High Sierra Camps August 23–30, 2015 Trip Leader: Tim Musil CMC Members: $1,625 Non-member Guests: $1,675

Khumbu Everest Trek, with Island Peak Option September 26–October 18, 2015 Trip Leader: Pemba Sherpa CMC Members: $3,668 Non-member Guests: $3,778

Trek in Yosemite National Park’s spectacular mountain scenery, deep valleys, wild rivers, and grand meadows. This is a special opportunity to stay in the High Sierra Camps, a type of hut-to-hut system complete with bedding and meals, so you only carry a daypack. CMC was fortunate to obtain reservations for the camps, as they are always in high demand.

This classic trek to Everest Base Camp includes climbing to Gorak Shep and Kala Patar (18,000 feet) with its stunning close-up view of Mt. Everest, as well as optional climbs of both Island Peak (20,305 feet) and Chukungukla. Visit Kathmandu, Namche Bazaar, Tengboche’s famous monastery, the High Himalyan Rescue Station, and Pheruche.

Hiking the Hill Towns of Tuscany, Italy August 29–September 11, 2015 Trip Leader: Kris Ashton CMC Members: $3,599 Non-member Guests: $3,709

World Summit Series: Cerro de Aconcagua; 22,841 feet November 22– December 13, 2015 Trip Leader: Bill Blazek CMC Members: $4,000 Non-member Guests: $4,300

Explore Florence, Siena, and the hill towns of Montalcino, Pienza, and Montepulciano. Walk from one hill town to the next, with stops in smaller towns along the way. Soak in the thermal waters of Bagno Vignoni, enjoy great Tuscan cuisine and wines, sleep in restored villas, palaces, and an active monastery, and visit four UNESCO World Heritage Sites.

Tuscany Cycle Tour September 12–27, 2015 Trip Leader: Denise Snow CMC Members: $4,721 Non-member Guests: $4,863 This bike tour explores the lesser known, but no less beautiful, areas of Tuscany to the west of the renowned Siena region. The tour includes seven days of cycling averaging 36 miles a day. We will have three days with options including rest, sightseeing, or more cycling.

Ascend the highest mountain in the Western and Southern Hemispheres, expedition style. Climb in stages, for acclimatization, with a basecamp, two intermediate camps, and a high camp. The whole trip is about 52 miles round trip and about 14,000 feet of elevation gain/ loss. Mules will carry the heavy gear to basecamp (at approx. 14,300 feet). Climbers carry all gear on the upper mountain.

Grand Canyon Raft & Hike 2016 April 23–May 5, 2016 Trip Leaders: Blake Clark and Rosemary Burbank CMC Members: $4,535 Non-member Guests: $4,670 Take a motorized raft trip and add five extra days for hiking along the way. This 12-day raft trip ends with a helicopter ride out of the canyon and a plane flight back to the put-in.

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Featured Trip: Turkey Hike and Culture Adventure Travel trip leaders plan interesting trips that often combine cultural and educational opportunities alongside outdoor adventure. Our Turkey Hike and Culture trip is a great example: Turkey Hike and Culture September 26–October 11, 2015 Trip Leader: Polly Hays CMC Members: $3,790 Non-member Guests: $3,904 This trip includes four days of hiking in the unique desert region of Cappadocia and the Ihlara Valley. Cappadocia is described as both a lunar landscape and a fairyland of bizarre geologic formations which have been carved by people for centuries as homes and safe havens. Then spend four days hiking on the spectacular coastal Lycian Way. Visits to cultural and historic sites complete the trip, including Istanbul, Konya, and Ephesus.

“Cappadocia (and Turkey as a whole) is definitely one of my favorite trekking locations and among the most amazing places I have visited on the planet.”

—Brenda Porter, Director of Membership and Adventure Travel

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Brenda Porter enjoying the lunar landscape of Cappadocia, Turkey.

Photo courtesy of Brenda Porter

End of the Trail Giles D. Toll ▶ 1927-2015

By Jim Gehres and Sam Guyton

One could say that Giles’ passing marked the end of a hundredyear era in CMC’s history. He always enjoyed a kinship with his uncle Roger Wolcott Toll, a superintendent in Rocky Mountain and Yellowstone National Parks. Roger was also one of the founding members of the Colorado Mountain Club in 1912.

Giles, with his wife Connie Hauver, enjoyed his life pursuits of mountaineering, skiing, and travelling. He climbed all the Colorado 14ers at least twice and many other Colorado peaks. He also climbed Fuji ( Japan), Kilimanjaro and Kenya (Africa), Elbrus (Russia), and Mt. Rainier. He took four treks in the Himalayas.

He was the 2008 recipient of CMC’s Carl Blaurock Silver Piton Award for his long and sustained activities in improving the CMC. He also served for 18 years as a director on the CMC Foundation board, with two terms as president.

Giles was long dedicated to the transfer of many of his family’s South Boulder Creek properties to conservation and recreational use and to the creation of the Indian Peaks Wilderness area.

Professionally, he was a pathologist, having graduated from Williams College and Harvard Medical School. He served in the Navy as a doctor during the Korean War. In addition to his wife, he is survived by his sons Giles Darwin Toll, Jr. and Christopher Tulloch Toll; his daughter Marcia Wolcott Toll; and his wife Connie Hauver’s daughter, Sian Hauver.

Karl Stout ▶ 1932-2014

By John Walters

Karl Stout, 40-year CMC member and legendary trip leader, reached the end of his trail on September 29, 2014. He is survived by his wife, Mary Ruth Stout; two daughters, Vicki McIntire and Jane Evans; and four grandchildren, all of Golden, Colorado.

Karl was 82.

“Karl was one of a kind and an inspiration to a generation of trip leaders,” recalls Steve Bonowski, who hiked with Karl for 30 years. “The way he worked with people made him a real asset to the Club.” One of Karl’s trademarks was that he always brought coffee and rolls for his hikers.

Few led more Colorado Mountain Club hikes than Karl Stout.

He averaged around 30 hikes per year for 40 years. He was known for calling every hike “12 & 25,” meaning 12 miles and 2,500 feet elevation gain, the max parameters for B hikes.

Karl joined CMC in 1974, instructed Basic Mountaineering School for several years, worked extensively on trail maintenance, and regularly volunteered at the office. During those years the entire Club was run by volunteers.

Karl worked in retail management for 42 years, and then taught special education for another 16 years. He retired from Denver

Giles Toll ready to climb Mt. Elbrus in 1997. Courtesy of Dave Robertson

Notwithstanding his many accomplishments, Giles was a modest and personable man. Very many of us inside and outside of CMC have lost a valued and trusted friend. We will always remember Giles and his lasting impression on our trips to Colorado’s beautiful mountains.

Karl Stout and Sasha, 10-year-old Labrador mix. Photo by Randy Steuber/RCS Gallery

Public Schools in December 2013.

Asked in early 2014 what he liked best about CMC, Karl replied, “The Club has helped me stay healthy by being active.” He was still leading hikes the year before he passed. Many of us were lucky to have known Karl. We shall miss him. Our deepest regrets to the Stout family.

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