Over the course of our summer this year in Colorado, we’ve done so many hikes: day-hikes around Pagosa Springs, multi-day hikes on the Colorado Trail and the Continental Divide Trail, and a few others along the way. Rusty has also done a couple of mountain summits on his own, including Pagosa Peak at 12,640 ft and Mount Princeton at 14,200 ft.

We are truly well-acclimated to the elevation now, so before we left Colorado for the warmer climes of southern Arizona, I agreed to join Rusty for one more adventure and attempt to summit Mount Elbert with him. Mt Elbert is the highest of the 14ers in Colorado, and the second-highest summit in the contiguous United States (after Mount Whitney in the Sierras). By most accounts, and fortunately for me, it is also one of the easiest of the 14ers to climb. Even so, the prospect of climbing 4,000 ft of elevation gain over five miles, two-thirds of which would be above tree line, was daunting to say the least.

After our Great Sand Dunes adventure, the forecast turned rainy. So we stopped about 20 miles south of Mt Elbert and found a remote and primitive campsite high in the San Isabel National Forest where we could wait for the perfect weather day to summit. While there, we did some short hikes when the rain eased, reviewed our planned route up the mountain and prepped our daypacks. The wait, though, didn’t help with my confidence. I kept rethinking my decision to attempt this summit with Rusty, with too many adverse scenarios and what-ifs running through my head.

Rusty, on the other hand, was very confident in my ability to conquer this mountain and my own anxieties. We discussed possible Plan B’s with a potential turn-around point at the tree line and a stop-and-wait point below the final push. The afternoon monsoon rains eventually ended and the forecasts turned sunny for a few days, so we broke camp and made our way to Mt Elbert. I was still nervous, but I was feeling better about how this was going to play out.

The trailhead for Mt Elbert is just off Hwy 82, near the pretty little town of Twin Lakes. The dirt road to get there was steep and deeply rutted with several iffy switchbacks, but our van did admirably and we found a fairly level spot to set up and finish our prep for summiting. There were a few other campers and hikers scattered along the road, out of eyesight and earshot. We got to bed early, but I could tell Rusty was restless and anxious to climb this mountain.

The Summit

We were up early. It was cold overnight, leaving frost on the grasses in exposed places. But it was clear and sunny, so we knew it would warm up quickly. We had to hike 0.7 miles along a spur trail that skirted several huge beaver ponds along Corske Creek that demonstrated the amazing engineering capabilities of these illusive rodents. The spur trail connected with the Colorado Trail, and then 400 ft farther along the South Mt Elbert Summit Trail junction came into view. We started up. Our elevation was just over 10,500 ft.

The next 2 miles were a steady climb through aspen groves, meadows and pine forests. We saw a large group of mule deer and a stag, northern flickers with their tell-tale white rump, and many talkative ravens along this bit. We stopped a few times to catch our breath and drink some of the 4 ½ liters of water Rusty was carrying. I’d brought along 2 bottles of Boost, supplemental oxygen, to help me cope with the reduced oxygen at these elevations.

We reached the tree line at about 11,800 ft and the mountain opened up before us. It was massive! The views were likewise immense with the Twin Lakes glittering below us and the peaks of the Sawatch Range stretching as far as we could see. I was setting the pace and I still felt strong, so we continued to climb.

This was unlike anything I’d done before. We were completely exposed from here on, working our way continually uphill. We stopped more frequently for air and water. Some of the sections were steeper than others, but there was nothing too technical… until we got to East Ridge. Hikers and bicyclist had seriously eroded a long section of the trail as it gained the ridgeline and started climbing a particularly steep area.

The answer for the trail maintainers was a rerouting of the trail around the steep, eroded bit. It now follows the north slope of the East Ridge for more than half a mile through boulders and talus. The maintainers did amazing work, moving tons of rock by hand, to create this new, sustainable path. But it was windy here and dizzying in places and tested my resolve. But we went slowly and eventually made it back to the ridgeline at about 12,500 ft.

We still had 2 ½ miles and 2,000 ft of elevation gain to go. Back on the ridgeline, we kept climbing, occasionally crossing paths with other hikers summiting Mt Elbert. Our pace slowed to barely 1 mph as we began to stop every few hundred feet to rest and suck on the oxygen. This was hard going.

At about the 4 ¼ mile mark and 13,800 ft of elevation, the trail skirted to the south of the ridgeline. I was exhausted. But I could see the summit now, barely half a mile away, with only 600 ft more to climb. Rusty would check his GPS every time we stopped. “Just 400 ft more to climb.” “Just 300 ft more.” My legs were like wet noodles, but knowing how close we were to the top kept me going. I could see other hikers at the summit now, like ants scurrying about. “I am definitely doing this'” I thought to myself.

The last push brought us to the Northeast Ridge, and a junction with an alternate summit trail. Only a couple hundred more feet brought us to the summit. There were at least a dozen other hikers there snapping pics and chatting together about their accomplishment. Most were young and athletic, but there was another senior couple like us there and a Japanese father with his son, who couldn’t have been more than 10 years old. Wow!

We took our own pictures, of course, and ogled at our surroundings, trying to identify the tallest peaks we saw scattered in every directions around us: Mt Massive, La Plata Peak, Capitol Peak and more. We were on top of the world at 14,440 ft… and it felt like it. We took refuge in a round, stone windbreak, built by hikers past, for a well-deserved rest and lunch before we headed back down.

The hike down was only moderately easier and faster than the hike up. It was exposed and windy and the reroute on the north side of the East Ridge was just as nerve-wracking as before.  Once we made the tree line, however, it was smooth sailing. I was exhausted, for sure, and we still had 2.7 miles to hike back to the van, but it felt like the deed was accomplished. We’d vanquished this mountain, and I’d overcome my fears. We’d summited Colorado’s highest peak.

And by the way, now that I’ve climbed the highest 14er in the Rockies… I have no desire to climb another.