You all know by reading about our adventures, you’ve already figured out we are a little extreme in our activities. Our friends call us X-Games, and after a few hospital visits, we’ve earned the nickname. Hiking a fourteener has been Mark’s dream for a while. Me? I like a good hike, but honestly, I never thought much about it. Quandary Peak was our first one, and we’ve now done four!
Quandary Peak stands at 14,265 feet and sits just south of downtown Breckenridge. We wanted to make sure we acclimated to the elevation because neither of us wanted to get sick and not be able to finish. This hike was the center point of our trip. Two days before, we drove our Jeep and hiked at 11,000 feet. The day before, we drove to Pikes Peak at 14,005 feet.
After our Pikes Peak trip, we hiked Murdoch Gulch near Quandary Peak for some uphill hiking. It’s an out-and-back trail to a waterfall. It was a pretty hike over varied terrain. Walking back to our car afterward, we were ready. Ready, excited, and a little nervous. But mostly excited.
The Morning of the Hike
Our plan was to be at the trailhead by 6 a.m. The mornings had been cold for us — in the low 40s and pretty windy. Monday evening, Mark checked the weather again, and thankfully, the wind was supposed to subside. We decided to sleep in a little and hit the trailhead at 7 a.m. instead. We packed our backpacks with snacks, gloves, bear spray, sunscreen, and extra water and then laid our clothes next to our packs. Lunch would be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but we decided to make them in the morning before we left so they wouldn’t be soggy. A soggy sandwich on a mountaintop was not on the menu.
The alarm rang early on hike day. With my thyroid cancer, I have to take my medication an hour before I can eat or drink anything. That would mean eating breakfast on the hike. Thankfully, nature called in the middle of the night, so I took it at 3 a.m. Yeah! I could eat a regular breakfast in the RV with silverware. After breakfast, Mark filled our water packs while I made sandwiches. We walked our dog, Marlee, and then set off on our adventure.
We were early enough that the little parking area near the trailhead wasn’t full. We joked the day before that it would be cruel to have to walk an extra half mile to the next parking lot after hiking to the top. It calls out as a 6-mile round-trip hike. The trailhead elevation is 10,910, which makes it a pretty steep hike to reach the top in 3 miles.
Starting Up the Trail
The climb starts at the very beginning of the trail. It weaves between trees as it goes along the steps created by logs. The terrain is pretty easy, with exposed tree roots along the way. It reminds me of stories I read as a child. There were patches of snow still dotting the mountain. It was interesting to see where the snow held out against melting. Most patches were in the shade, but there were enough in the bright, exposed areas that made us notice.
When we stopped for a break, we met a family from Iowa who were in Colorado on vacation, and we ended up chatting with them much of the way toward the top. That’s one of the best things about hiking: we get to meet people from all over.
The trail turned just before we got to the tree line with sweeping views of the mountains south of us. We couldn’t see the top, but we saw some movement to our right behind some trees — mountain goats. We stopped and stood silent. The group from Iowa was behind us, and we signaled to them. I wasn’t sure what to expect. The trail was not wide. Did we need to move off the trail so the mountain goats could pass? Were the goats going to walk by us through the trees? I pulled out my camera to take a picture, and Mark videoed the goats with this phone. They paid us no mind as they walked across the trail in front of us and down the side of the mountain. They weren’t small, about the size of miniature horses, but very light and gentle with their footing. After they passed, we all looked at each other with a WOW look on our faces. That was so cool. That wouldn’t be the only goats we saw for the rest of the climb. The trail zig-zagged for a bit, and we saw a few more. They watched us, but if we made any sudden moves, they quickly scampered away.
Reaching the Saddle
Soon, we reached the saddle. We crested the top of the smaller, adjoining mountain and stood looking up toward the top. We were above the tree line now. We still couldn’t see the peak, but it was there — right up there. It was such an exciting feeling.
After walking up the saddle, the trail got harder. Trail volunteers did a great job of laying out a trail where they could, but it became a game of “Do I want to climb this on the left or the right?” Mark likes me to hike in front since I’m a foot shorter, and my strides don’t cover as much ground as his. He is great at quickly spotting the best route in a tough area, while I will stop and carefully look at each possible way. Much of the rocky section went like this: I would stop and look left and right while he would say behind me, “The best route is on the right.” It was in this lower section of rocks that we met the first person coming down. Of course, we talked to him. He started at 3:30 in the morning and had a couple of hours all by himself at the top. Not far behind him was a man moving quickly, almost running. Mark asked if he was indeed running, and he answered that he was doing it for time. I was astonished. Who runs up and down a fourteener?
It’s here where we met Jen and her two dogs, Dewey and Baylor. We’d stopped for a break and saw her coming. I used it as an excuse to pet these cute dogs, so we waited a minute or so until she passed us. Baylor was two, and Dewey was older. It was their first fourteener. Dewey had a little pack on his back. After a little chitchat, she went on by.
We crisscrossed some more with the family from Iowa while we continued our climb. We stopped so three young men could pass us. They were from Boulder and were having a great time. Up and up we went; sometimes the climb was easy, and other times the steps were thigh-high. I swear, being short sucks. Mark has it so easy on hikes. But at 6 feet 5 inches tall, finding clothes can be challenging, so I guess it’s a trade-off.
Cresting the Summit
We reached the point where we could see the top and the snow. Snow still covered part of the trail, the last several hundred yards, in fact. We heard loud cheers from the top and stopped to look up. It was the three guys from Boulder sliding down the snow! The first two curled up, lifted their arms and legs, and slid on down. It was a sight to see. The last guy tried to ski down without skis. It was nice and lighthearted and the perfect time for me.
We reached the snow and changed out the tips of our hiking poles for better grip. Since it was still before noon, the snow was somewhat slushy, slippery, ice-like snow. The poles helped me from falling. I wasn’t looking around and enjoying the view; I was singularly focused on getting through the snow and to the top. My head was down to make sure I stepped in other people’s footprints, and I didn’t realize I’d made it to the top until the family from Iowa shouted at us that we’d made it.
We were at the top. The top of a 14,265-foot mountain. We made it. Inside, I wanted to cry. I was overcome — happy that Mark accomplished an item on his bucket list and happy I made it and didn’t ruin it for him. Jen and her dogs were there enjoying a treat. I told her about my blog and took their picture. The family from Iowa cheered us. I thought about my cancer fight and how this mountain climb paralleled my fight in a way. I beat the mountain like the cancer; it was a total victory.
Watching the Mountain Goats
Then we saw the mountain goats. There they were, watching us crazy humans from afar. They were in the perfect spot for a picture. The family from Iowa was sort of in front of them, so we took their picture, too. Then we switched places, and they took ours. We hung out at the top for a little while, ate our lunch, and talked to people as they came and went.
Jen and the dogs left before us, and we didn’t see them again. I was mesmerized by the goats. One particularly brave one came closer and started scratching the dirt and eating whatever it could find. At first, I thought he was going after someone’s trash, but he was eating the dirt. There must be something healthy for them in there.
Reflecting on My Cancer Journey
As we climbed, I thought of this blog post, running an outline in my head. I also thought of my friends currently fighting cancer and my own cancer fight. There were enough easy parts for confidence; this hike was doable. There were hard parts where I had to concentrate on the task at hand. And there were the OMG hard parts when I wondered if I really could make it to the top, just like my cancer fight. I thought of my friend’s 24-year-old daughter, who was currently fighting ovarian cancer.
I thought of two friends, one fighting a recurrence and the other fighting on and maintaining his status, which we view as beating since it isn’t getting any worse. My thoughts went to another dear person in my life who was just beginning his fight. Standing on the mountain top, in a weird way, I was standing for them. Praying they get the chance to conquer some wild feat in their life.
Hiking Down a Fourteener
We started down with the family from Iowa. Some of their group went ahead, and a few were behind us. I opted to go down through the snow the same way I came up, but Mark decided to ski down. I wish he would have told me; I totally would have videoed him. It was quite the sight. A tall guy with his pack, using his hiking sticks like ski poles, sliding down like a skier with one foot in front of the other like a water skier. I’ll never forget it. It took me a few minutes to catch up, and he’d just finished talking to a man. That man was a firefighter on his way up, and as he watched Mark, he thought he would have to rescue him from going over the edge. Funny stuff.
Let me tell you, I was in for a rude awakening on the way down. Those thigh-high steps going up were much easier than navigating them going down. Thank goodness I had hiking poles. On most of our hikes, I get to look around and enjoy the scenery with a smile on my face while we make our way down. Not today. About half of the hike was above the tree line, which meant half the hike was in the rocks. Some stable and some not. I keep my toenails pretty short, to begin with, and I thought I trimmed them short enough, but every misstep was met with major big toe pain. My inner voice was begging me to stop, but I pressed on.
Finally, we were back to the saddle, and the hardest part of the hike was done. Inside, I was whining like a three-year-old, but I didn’t let Mark know. After a couple of minutes, I snapped back into it and was greeted with a sudden burst of energy. I picked up my pace, and we booked it down the trail. We were back on the familiar forest dirt with log steps. I was taking them sideways because my toes were screaming at me, and I even did some steep ones backward. Not easy, but also not painful. We joked as we got lower to the parts of the trail we didn’t remember walking only hours before.
As the trail weaved through the trees, we were sure a half-dozen times that this was the last turn and we’d be on the long straightaway at the end of the trail. It became a game of “Are we there yet?” And, of course, we talked about food. This was a big calorie burn, and we joked that we could eat and drink anything we wanted for dinner. According to my fitness watch, I burned over 2,100 calories, while Mark burned close to 3,000. So. Not. Fair. Dinner was a juicy cheeseburger and salad with two glasses of wine. It was delicious.
Feeling Triumphant (And Tired)
Before we knew it, we were back at the trailhead. Finished! We did it! I even ran the last several feet and jumped off the trail triumphantly. It was more like an exhausted stumble, but inside, I was jumping to the sky. I was so happy for Mark and, inside, rather proud of myself. This hike was not on my bucket list.
We walked a few yards to the Jeep, thankful again that we scored a spot in the closest parking lot, and I ripped off my hiking boots. I was sure my toenails would come off with my socks, but I am happy to report that they survived.
And I’ll happily do it all again. I’m going to need a mountain goat fix.
Like What You Read? Check out some of our other blog posts by M&M Hit the Road
 I’m Maureen Milne, F446881. Mark and I are becoming empty nest veterans and you know what, we enjoy it! We are always on the lookout for the next adventure, our friends call us the X-Games family. We are avid hikers, cyclists and skiers (both snow and water). Mark does triathlons and we run several races a year. We’ve been RVing together since we were teenagers and we love traveling with our two grown sons. I share our RV adventures, RV friendly recipes, wonderful campgrounds and more on my blog, M&M Hit The Road. You can also find our fun on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and YouTube. |
Leave a Reply