A SATURDAY ON MT. ELBERT

Over the weekend, my friend and I hiked Mt. Elbert (14,438 ft.), the tallest peak in Colorado. She had moved to Colorado from Texas just a week earlier and decided she wanted to trek up the state’s highest mountain. I happily joined her.

The hike is 10 miles round trip with 4,458 feet of elevation gain via the North Trail. Colorado has had a record-low snow year, which is unfortunate. The lack of snow on the trails meant this was the earliest in the season I’ve hiked a 14er.

We woke up at 2:00 a.m., left the house by 2:30, and drove two hours to the trailhead for a 5:00 a.m. start. As we made our way up the trail in the cold, the sun beginning to rise over the mountains, I found myself mentally preparing for the 4,400 feet of climbing ahead. I also found myself laughing at how absurd this whole activity is.

If someone told me I needed to wake up in the middle of the night, drive two hours in the dark, do intense cardio for four hours, get blasted by wind and cold at my destination, then spend another three hours descending steep rocks on tired legs before driving two hours home, I would probably say, “No thank you!”

And yet, that’s exactly what we were doing. It’s also exactly what I’ve chosen to do countless times before.

My friend and I joked that everyone at the trailhead was probably sleep deprived and questioned why people voluntarily spend their weekends this way. As we climbed, I started thinking about what draws us to mountains and other difficult pursuits. Why we willingly seek out Type 2 fun.

This was her first 14er, and I told her how rewarding it would feel when we finally reached the summit and made it safely back to the car. But the reward isn’t just at the end.

We were rewarded with the nearly full moon lighting our drive to the trailhead. We were rewarded each time we kept moving when our lungs and legs wanted to stop. We were rewarded with hours of conversation, camaraderie with fellow hikers, incredible views, snacks shared on the trail, and a deep gratitude for our bodies, our health, our beautiful state, and the freedom to spend our time this way.

The satisfaction of completing a hard thing lasts far longer than the discomfort required to do it. Every challenge we overcome expands our sense of what is possible. What once seemed difficult becomes normal, and something even bigger takes its place. Maybe that’s what drives people to Everest, not the mountain itself, but the realization that their limits are farther away than they once believed. While Everest isn’t on my list, I’m well aware of how sneakily addictive climbing these mountains are. Each summit leaves you with a little more confidence and a little more curiosity about what’s next.

When we reached the summit, the wind was howling. We stood surrounded by views of snowy peaks stretching across the horizon. We ran into hikers we’d crossed paths with throughout the morning and exchanged congratulations. It’s funny how quickly strangers become acquaintances when you’re all working toward the same challenging goal.

As a summit reward, I had packed oatmeal raisin cookies for us. By the time I reach the top of a mountain, sometimes I’m hungry and sometimes I’m nauseous. Saturday I was hungry and the cookies were delicious (recipe here)! We stayed for about ten minutes before the wind won and we could no longer feel our faces or fingers. We started heading back down.

The descent felt long and steep, but eventually we reached the car. We drove home feeling accomplished, exhausted, and sore. I fought to keep my eyes open until 7:30 p.m., when I finally gave in and went to sleep.

When I think about all the ways I could spend a Saturday, hiking with friends sits at the top of the list. Hiking season is in full swing, earlier than usual this year, and I’m excited to spend more days on long trails with good people. Hopefully spending more time outside than in.

Until the next tale… Happy trails.

-Hannah