Tourists meandering to Boulder Falls beyond us seemed to move with a distinct lack of purpose. Sarah yelling for slack cut me away from the dull overwhelming lull of noise emanating from Boulder Creek below. For a second I was almost relaxed enough to nap, even despite the slight hanging position I was sitting in at the second belay on our way up Tonnere Tower in Boulder Canyon. We had considered climbing this jutting formation within BoCan many times before, as each time we’d whizz by on our way to Nip and Tuck, Sports Park, anywhere else, the dominating position it took above the hustle and bustle of the Boulder Falls lot cut through the normality of stopping your car simply to gander at water falling down. Each time we’d considered it though, as if guided by fate, weather moved in, or there was someone on the route we’d wished to do already. This time was different. The summit was clear. The sky was a nice hue of deep blue in the mid-May sun. It was a Monday. There was no spec...
I tried to look past my headlamp in the very-early morning darkness, and in all honesty I couldn’t. Matt, Scott, and I had met in a parking lot only less than an hour before, three men on a mission to go to one of the most remote peaks in all of Rocky Mountain National Park. By the end of today, with a little luck and a whole lot of skill and toughness, we would summit Hayden Spire. Laying on a ridgeline extending from Sprague Peak and off of the western side of Stones Mountain lays a massive crater-like formation of rock and cliffside. Along that cliffside sits a series of huge spires above Hayden Lake, one of many year-round pockets of glaciated lake that sits quiet among the high peaks in the park. Hayden Spire is easily seen from Trail-Ridge Road, and the Forest Canyon Overlook, but never easily reached by any sort of insertion point into the park. On this particular morning, we had chosen to take the overland approach route to the spire from the Bear Lake Trailhead. This ...
As the engine of my 4Runner hummed, I cruised along the stretch of road dividing open ranchland south of town between Leadville and Buena Vista. The red sun hazed by the wildfire smoke that had taken residence in our valley the past few weeks captured my attention beyond the high peaks of the Sawatch Range over the vast fields of scrub brush and sage. I remember nearly everything about the moment, including the faint hum of Led Zeppelin playing in the background through the janky bluetooth system I had jury-rigged to my SUV’s aging radio. The clarity of the memory is off-color for me, as I have trouble admittedly remembering specific insignificant details on most occasions unless specifically warranted, but the gravity of the thoughts that occurred in my mind I believe concreted everything in the moment. I was reflecting on the weeks prior to where I was then. A month ago seemed like years before, although the time between passed indiscriminately. A moment to me at that point cou...