One weekend.
30 miles.
4100 ft.
I didn't really know what I was getting myself into.
Once we got over Gunsight Pass I was already thinking SHIT.
And that was nothing compared to the rocks and rocks and more rocks we were going to climb.
For a while it seemed ok.
You are just walking through a pretty basin.
Surrounded by lakes, beautiful open views and fluffy clouds.
There comes a point where you think it's going to be around the corner.. we've been walking forever.
Then you see it.
It looked like somebody shoveled a pile of rocks 2000 ft high.
I considered laying down right there and hanging out with the chipmunks.
Seeing it from that point was close enough.
But we kept on trekking..
There seemed to be a lack of oxygen.
False peak after false peak.
I was worried I would start a rockslide and kill myself and all the little ant like people scattered across the pile of rocks.
And then FINALLY..
After what seemed like the 10th peak, we made it!
The fear and exhaustion were gone.
The oxygen even came back.
I'm so happy we made it.
It was worth it.
Even with the hell of coming down.
Going back was it's own adventure..
You think one wrong step and the rocks will just start rolling.
My leg got smashed between few and I left a trail of blood, but that was the worst of it.
Eventually we were on the flat.
Through the basin and up one last 500 foot climb and we could slowly roll our exhausted bodies down to camp.
The evening continued with hammocks, fire, music and looking up at the stars.
Eventually the bubble would burst.
Reality would kick in and now it all seems like a dream that I once had.
Thankful for the boyscout who kept me alive, warm and fed all weekend.
Until next time.
