Mount Evans

My friend Nia is only here for about ten more days before she goes home to Indonesia. She has done some hiking while she's been here, but had never seen dramatic Rocky Mountain vistas. I thought a trip to the top of Mount Evans would take care of that.

On the drive up Squaw Pass, the views were still pretty stunning. Storms were moving in, but you could clearly see the ranges to the north and west of us. By the time we stopped at Summit Lake, it was snowing lightly and pretty misty. We hiked a little bit there, did a little bouldering (B) and saw some wildlife.


I couldn't believe how close we got to this mountain goat! It was an accident -- he was behind a big pile of boulders, and we didn't even know he was there until we'd been a few feet away from him for several minutes. He didn't seem to mind our presence though -- he'd look up from his foraging every few seconds to study us, then went back to digging and eating.


Then we headed up to the top. It's been years since I drove up Mt. Evans, and I didn't realize there would be so many people up there! We practically had to wait in line to get to the top. Nia was overwhelmed by the scenery, even with all the mist and clouds. She told B at one point that it was so beautiful she felt like she was going to cry. Both of us were amazed by how many cyclists there were up there, and awed by the bravery (or foolishness?) of the people hiking up then skiing down the boulder-strewn snowfields.

At the top, it was only 30 degrees and very windy. Plus it was snowing these weird little pellets of snow that were blowing horizontally. It felt like needles hitting our faces. We didn't even stay five minutes -- just long enough to take in the little bit of view that was visible and take a photo.

I am so lucky to live where I do. Colorado is a wild, beautiful place, even when you have to endure a traffic jam at 14,000 feet to see it. At the end of the day, I felt like climbing a fourteener again. It's been many many years since I did that, and back when I was doing it, I barfed off the side of quite a few of Colorado's most beautiful mountains. Yes, even though I've lived here for most of my life, I get horrible altitude sickness. Horrible. Debilitating. Seriously -- on Mount Massive, it was so bad that I laid down in the shelter of a boulder and dozed/barfed while my family went the last few hundred yards to the summit. But I'm willing to try again!