Mountains

It's too bad I told so many people that we were going to hike a 14er. I carried Jude around for weeks in the pack to prepare, I have ripped up hair to prove it, and found myself busily explaining to dozen of neighbors why Jude was always in the pack- we're going to hike a 14er!!  (For all you non-Coloradans, that's a mountain above 14,000ft).   In a month of setbacks, I was ready for something to work out. It never occurred to me that this might not.

We set out on our Reeves/Schaad semi-annual hiking trip (as in we did it one time two years ago), highly optimistic. Things were looking like a nice, fun camping trip when we were TP ed going down the highway.  At first I assumed these long plastic ribbons flying at must be plastic: how could toilet paper possibly make it's way to the highway?  Soon a few cars moved into the turning lane, leaving us behind the culprit: an Honey Bucket on a trailer.  the door on the porta-potty was closed but a spirited roll of toilet paper was cascading it's way out the side with great fanfare, breaking into 16 ft. streamers at regular intervals.  I swear it was accompanied by classical music.  Mark himself moved into the turning lane, ending our christening, but the thought that we were off to a good start stayed with me :)

We met up with our friends Eric and Cassy, and their dog, Pneuma the Incredible, on the road then arrived in fridged rain to set up camp.  Most of the time breastfeeding a child is a huge bummer as it removes you from every fun activity going on.  I can't tell you how many times I've gone to feed Jude and returned to dinner, and my plate, all cleaned up.  no food for you!  This time, however, it finally turned in my favor:  Jude needed to be fed in the (warm) car while everyone else set up camp. I'll take it.

Mark and Eric managed to build a fire and keep it going which I must say was quite manly.  We spent the evening unpacking, repacking and generally holding a fussy boy who now loves his freedom of movement but whom we couldn't put down on the cold and muddy ground near a campfire.  Jude was not a happy camper. He did not like not being able to crawl around.  He did not like sharing a mummy bag with me as the temperature fell below freezing. that was mutual.  Most of all he did not like the hike.

We woke at 4:45am.  We were going to climb a 14er! After 2 hrs. to break down camp and repack, then another hour plus involving 8 setbacks in actually finding a viable trail-head (the road we had planned on was closed), we found a trail-head for Mt. Lincoln that certainly must work. we repacked yet again and started up.  Not 15 tough minutes later I found myself on a slippery rock-edge with a field of boulders below me and Jude fussing on my back.   Before Jude came along I thought parenthood would be about figuring out what-to-do with a baby.  We've had a year of what-not-to-do with a baby experiences.  From getting lost in downtown Chicago at 1am in a driving snowstorm, to allowing a stranger to walk off with our baby in Morocco, we've had our moments of parental mis-steps.  Fortunately this moment didn't become another one of those- that comes later.  We turned around.

This hike could have been a great spiritual exercise for me: being instead of accomplishing, enjoying instead of conquering.  could have.  Still undeterred, we found an old mining road.   There was a ridge to the right that looked promising, if we couldn't summit a 14er we were going to summit a 13er, or however high it was.  It didn't matter.  I just wanted to stand on top of something that was high and say we did something.  We started up.  At this point Jude was on either Mark or Eric's back; for some reason I was no longer trusted.  and he was miserable.  Poor baby was exhausted from it all and wouldn't sleep in the pack.

No trail available, we bushwacked.  We were still below the tree-line.  Our initial trail-head had us starting above the tree-line.  I like head-starts like that.  Up and up we went passing the tree-line.  Cassy noticed the storm clouds rolling in.  Being the level-headed voice of reason she is, she noted that we should start heading down.  I didn't want to.  Eric didn't want to.  Mark was fine with the idea.  We headed up a little bit farther.  Now the clouds were looking dark, moving in fast.  We stood and debated.  Looked at the sky, looked at each other.  I still wanted to get to the top.  Jude was falling apart.  I conceded that I was not going to get to the top as I had to attended to my boy at this point, but, heck, someone should.  Trying to find some middle ground to the go-down or go-up debate, when really there is no middle ground, I suggested that Eric and Mark try to run up as fast as they could.  I'm going to claim at this point that the elevation was getting to my judgment.  It must have been getting to theirs too though as they took off.  After about 500 feet of scrambling nearly straight-upward, they stopped.  But it was too late.  The sky was dark. More fiercely than they headed up they headed down.  Meeting up with us Mark threw Jude on his back.  It began to snow, thunder, lightening, and Jude on Mark's back was the tallest object around.  Opps. 

We're safe now.  And not trying that again until Jude can carry himself up a mountain.  Good thing this kid's growing up fast.  It's hard to survive infant-hood with parents like us.

 My only picture of the trip.  And the only one needed.