Nolan's 14

POSTER'S NOTE:

If you have been following Dan and Jonathan's blog since its inception, you may remember a certain red-haired tagalong who started popping up about halfway along the PCT when she and Jonathan hiked a  double marathon together (the *real* one).  900 miles later, there she was again, photobombing their monument pictures.  When the boys realized that they hadn't booked a ride back to STL, it was Ms. Frizzle and my Magic School Bus on loan, who came to the rescue.  (Or at least, that's sort of how it happened...).

After leaving these fine fellows in St. Louis, I drove back to Vermont to live off the fruit of my parents' table for a few months while splitboarding the East's finest backcountry.  You might say that a life of free rent and powder refills sounds pretty good.  And it was.  But I just couldn't leave these guys alone.  

Somewhere along that 900 miles, I fell in love with Jonathan and to my delight, he agreed to go on another crazy adventure in which we moved from our respective homes here to Boulder, CO to play in some really big mountains.  Daniel even moved out to Golden, CO, just down the road, putting the third wheel back on our PCTricycle (Or is that me?). 

I've shared a lot of great stories with the Captains of Us, and I may pop up once in a while to tell a story or two when these clowns are taking themselves too seriously.  I think its realistic to say I outrank them.

-- Major Frizzle, reporting.

THE REAL STORY:

The natives call these mountains the "14ers": the 54 peaks in Colorado above 14,000ft in elevation. There are websites, even an app, dedicated to the pursuit of summiting the whole set.  Since arriving in Colorado in April, Dan, Jonathan and I have collectively summited 10 of them, but this past week, Jonathan and I got a little ambitious and decided to do a few more.  Ok, a lot more.  

Taking 4 days off, we decided to attempt a route through the Sawatch Range developed for a challenge known as "Nolan's 14".  This challenge, that some insane athletes complete in under 60 hours, goes up and over fourteen 14ers by the most expedient possible route, which can vary slightly depending on who you ask.  On average, to complete the challenge, you have to cover between 90 and 110 miles and do 44,500ft of climbing, or, about 3.5 times the amount needed to summit Everest from Base Camp. Much of this is off-trail route-finding and, as we soon discovered, much of that is scambling over sketchy, loose scree at 13,000ft.  Check out the details of the route here.

No problem.  We have 4 days and we're in good shape, right?  Right?  

On Day 1, we wake up to a frosty car window and put the alarm on snooze for a few more moments in the relative warmth.  It is cold already at 9,500ft, but we start up the trail and we both feel strong as the sun comes up.  Mt. Massive is the second highest peak in Colorado,  the largest contiguous area above 14,000' in the U.S. and our first challenge of the day.  Instead of taking the Class 1 trail up this rockpile, the route takes us up the shorter North Ridge, a steep Class 2 scramble.  Huffing and puffing up the last few hundred feet we see someone heading down toward us.  

"Wow, he's moving fast!" Jonathan exclaimed.  The guy was wearing a running vest and was jogging off-road down the slippery rocks.  When we came up to one another, he asked where we were headed and we explained our plan to hike the Nolan's 14 route.  The guy grinned. He said, "I'm just finishing up!"

What?!

"Actually," he continued, "I think I'm about to set the speed record!" His GPS was at 51 hours.  We asked him his name. Sure enough, when we got home there it was "Andrew Hamilton breaks speed record on Nolan's 14".  Check out Andrew's website here for some inspiration.  

Back to us, we had just barely made it to peak #1.  It felt great. And look at that view behind us!

Made it to the top of Mt. Massive

Mt. Elbert looms in the distance as we hiked through a lovely valley.

On to the next! Peak #2 is Mt. Elbert, the highest peak in the Rockies, at 14,433'.  Usually known for being one of the easiest 14ers, it turns out that Elbert has a dark side. (Its the west one).  Instead of cruising up Class 1 trail on the East Ridge, which would add lots of mileage, we ran down the back side of Massive, hiked up a 4WD road to the West Ridge and proceeded to climb 3,000 vertical feet over 1 mile of extremely loose, football sized rock-missiles.  Do people really do this during a speed attempt? 

Jonathan in front of Mt Elbert. Our route went up the ridge on the left.

Nearing the top and closing in on 8,000ft of climbing for the day, we were working for that summit.  (read: I felt like I wanted to die).  It even started snowing on us: Happy Autumn! Suddenly, we heard someone cheering us on.  I heard Jonathan say: "They're so close! There's someone on the summit and they're so close!"  Motivated, we pushed onwards to the summit.  

This is how I felt on the summit of Mt. Elbert

At the top of the Rockies, we enjoyed a new view as our cheering squad erected his "BEER HERE" flag and cracked a tall boy. His friend was wearing a "DRINK WATER" sweatshirt and did not take photos with the flag, although it sounded like he had probably carried it for most of the hike.  Mr. Keystone Ice told us it was his first 14er. (Yea... we know).

Man and Beer met on the summit of Mt. Elbert

Jonathan and I were pretty wrecked after that climb and as we ate our summit snacks, we both realized that we were burning through food way faster than we had anticipated.  We wouldn't have enough for even two more full days of snacks, and looking at the maps, we also realized that the best, and maybe only, opportunity to hitchhike back to the car for a resupply would come on Hwy 82, right on the other side of Elbert.  So, we changed our plans.  

It got dark as we finished our descent to the highway and we cowboy camped near the road, talking about our changing expectations.  Before we left, we'd been impressed by the athletes who completed Nolan's 14 in just 60 hours.  After just two peaks and just under a quarter of the elevation gain required to complete the route, we were astounded.  After about 13 hours, covering 22 miles and over 8,000' of elevation, it wasn't that we were behind schedule.  We were just ready to sleep.  Soundly. Not do another 40+ hours of hiking. 

Instead, we had a great night's sleep, and woke up to a beautiful morning.  Did I mention that it's autumn in the high country?  The aspens glowed that morning, amber against the sunrise as we walked down the highway, waiting for a hitch.  

Jonathan captured this majestic shot of the aspens in the morning light.

Not a whole lot of traffic, but what a lovely morning for a walk!

Highway 82 is a direct route to Aspen, so after a stream of dapperly dressed folks in Priuses drove past without flinching, a pickup truck was a welcome sight.  An older gentleman pulled the truck to the side of the road and motioned for us to hop in the back.  Hooray for pickup hitches!

The view from the back of the truck.

After two easy hitches, we made it back to the car, drove into Leadville and concocted a new plan over delicious coffee at City on a Hill Coffee & Espresso. New plan: Hit La Plata Peak (#3) that afternoon, then drive south to hit the two southernmost peaks the following day. 

La Plata was a steep hike, but the trail was relatively easy-going and the weather was gorgeous.  We were sore from the previous day's hike, but we made it up to see another mind-blowing view.   

Summit of La Plata Peak

Crazy-looking ridge seen looking north from La Plata Peak

It was an uneventful evening, but we had fresh food waiting at the car, so we were in great spirits as we drove south to the Angel of Shavano Trailhead, close to the southern terminus of Nolan's 14.  

I wasn't feeling great the next morning, but the sun was up and off we went.  The trail up Mt. Shavano follows the Colorado Trail for a few miles of stunning aspen glades and well-manicured path, then juts upwards through a forest of krummholz trees to a high saddle.  Mt Shavano and Tabeguache Peak (say: "Tabawatch") are close together, connected by a gorgeous rocky ridgeline, and after snack breaks on both (of course), we felt like we had done enough for one weekend. 

Things got a little silly on the Summit of Shavano

Jonathan doesn't want to go back to work after the Summit of Tabeguache.

Molly enjoys watching over Tabeguache Peak as the Gargoyle of Shavano.

Finally on our last descent, we decided to take Friday to rest and recuperate our bodies before returning to work on Saturday.  For good measure, we ran down Shavano, jogging the last few miles under a golden roof in the late afternoon sun.  

The ambiance of an aspen grove in late afternoon as the leaves turn golden is an almost unparalleled experience. So unbelievably serene.

That evening, a little sore and pretty tired, we drove up to Breckenridge to meet up with Washpot, who Jonathan had met on the PCT, and his girlfriend, Charlotte.  Back at their place, we scarfed down a whole pizza and talked about tiny homes with a stunning view of Mt. Quandary (a 14er in the Tenmile-Mosquito Range).  Washpot enlightened us with an answer to a questions we've been pondering since arriving in Colorado: Does high altitude give everyone gas? The answer? Not everyone (Charlotte was quick to explain), but almost.  Coloradans have a name for this syndrome: HAFE, or, High Altitude Flatulent Expulsions.  Well, now we know. 

On our three day mini-adventure, and within 60 hours, we had hiked about 50 miles, climbed approximately 18,000ft (about 1.5 Everests) and bagged 5 peaks.  Plus, we had two good nights' sleep! Even without going for speed, the rocky terrain and consistent high elevation were hard on our bodies and we would have been very hard pressed to hike for more hours than we did. We learned that, more than anything, Nolan's 14 is about brutal endurance: the willingness to push for hours, and when it gets hard, to push harder.  In terms of the challenge, we completed only 35% of the peaks (5 of 14), but over 40% of the total elevation gain as well as about half the mileage (with some different routes, of course).  We also slept for approximately 18 hours and drove for 3.5 to 4 hours.  The rest was mostly eating, with some hiking interspersed in there.  Let's just say we came back with a healthy respect for the athletes who complete the whole thing in that same time frame.  

Maybe one day, we'll come back and bag the rest of the peaks.  Perhaps someday, we'll even have a fighting chance at completing the challenge.  For now, I'm pretty pleased with the fantastic days we spent hiking in these beautiful mountains.  Altogether, not bad for a weekend.   

Cheers,

Words: Molly (AKA Ms. Frizzle)

Visuals: Jonathan

Hitchiking

Hitchhiking is one of those aspects of trail life that non-hikers tend to find shocking. The first question people ask when they hear about the trail ("You walked how far?!") is often followed by "How did you get food and supplies?" My explanation to is that we hitch into the small towns near the trail to buy food. This invariably elicits interestings reactions.

"What do you mean hitching? Like hitchhiking?" they say, wide eyed.

The logistics of getting a hitch are pretty much the same as they've always been. Stand on the side of a road with your thumb out and hope that some kind soul will stop to pick you up. This is the most common form of soliciting a hitch, at least. Getting a hitch can be about much more than simply sticking your thumb out. When I talk about hitchhiking I am referring to the general act of getting a ride from a stranger. This can happen in so many more ways than my pre-trail self could have imagined: sometimes you find yourself in a parking lot, and you just have to approach a stranger or two and ask for a ride. Other times you have to divide and conquer; there are too many hikers to fit in one normal-sized vehicle. There are even times where you have to do, well, nothing. On these rare occasions rides were solicited to us, which is an incredible experience.

From the day we landed in Southern California until we returned to our hometown of St. Louis, I hitched 43 rides. They varied greatly in quality and novelty, but every one of them was a blessing. Of those 43 times, only once did I ever feel remotely unsafe, and it was due to the driver's carelessness, not because I ever felt I would be harmed.

Before the PCT I had never hitched a ride. I had never ridden in the back of a pickup truck. I had never done a lot of things that I have now done. Sure, I was a little nervous. Mostly, I think the nerves were caused by fear of continual rejection by passing cars. I never really worried about my personal safety or uncomfortable situations. Or at least I accepted it as an inherent risk. Then again, I'm a 6' tall white male who tends to be a bit callous with things like safety, so that might have something to do with it. As for my nerves, they were immediately put to rest after our very first hitch came completely without solicitation. A nice couple saw us walking through San Diego and stopped to see if we needed a ride. HOW CRAZY IS THAT? I would soon find out that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

In case you are still worried, let's see if perspective and clarity don’t put you more at ease. When you go through towns on or near the trail, most people know about the Pacific Crest Trail. When those people see us with our dirty clothes and backpacks, they usually know we're hikers. There really is a community around this trail that looks out for hikers. We are all strangers, but we are strangers within a hiking community.

Beyond that, you have to be willing to let the unexpected happen. You have to let go of absolute control, go with the flow and leave some things up to chance. You are always going to hear stories on the news that someone was found dead in a ditch because some evil monster picked them up. But what about all the times where humans rise to the occasion and help each other out in little ways? These aren't news stories, they are random acts of human kindness. I bet if you look around you will find lots more of those acts than you do big scary stuff. I saw it happen day in and day out on trail; it was a beautiful thing.

Here are a few examples of what hitching on the PCT was like.

Best hitch: We got a hitch out of Bishop, CA from a 70 year old woman in her RV. She came into the cafe where we were sitting and offered my crew a ride. She even offered us some cold Bud Light Limes for the ride back to trail. This woman embodied the spirit of adventure.

We sometimes joked about the most epic hitches imaginable. Firetruck hitch was always at the top of our list. We never got one, but a few hiker trash friends of ours did get a hitch in the bucket of a front loading tractor. We were jealous, to say the least.

Worst hitch: Being shoved three-deep in the back of a car with all our gear and a dog on our laps, winding down mountain roads with a driver who was less than concerned about staying on the right side of the road. The guys that gave us a ride were quite kind, but their driving was less than stellar. As noted earlier, this was the one and only time I ever felt the least bit uncomfortable in a stranger's car.

Weirdest character who gave us a hitch: This super right-wing guy who told us the national economy was on the brink of collapse explained that precious metals were the only thing that were going to be worth a damn. He then preceded to show us a minted silver coin that he happened to carry around in his pocket.

A word of politeness to those who choose solicit their own hitches: if possible, it's best to offer a few dollars in gas money to those that give you a hitch. Ya know, because paying it forward, being a good person and all that jazz. Screw karma, it's just the right thing to do.

One last detail that eluded me before the trail: Oftentimes when someone gives you a hitch, they load you up, drive off, start chatting and roll up the windows. Make sure they don't do this last part! This kind, unassuming person obviously doesn't realize you smell TERRIBLE and should be warned before enclosing themselves in a small, mostly airtight capsule with filthy hiker trash. I didn’t even want to be enclosed in a vehicle with my own smell. I can't imagine how bad it must be for 'normal folk' to have to smell us.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Dan (Soapbox) trying to hitch out of Chester, CA.

Myself and Half'n'Half trying to walk and hitch a ride in Big Bear City, CA

Dan hitching in the back of a pickup to Kennedy Meadows Resort in central California. We had to ride with the gate down because the bed was so full.

Frizzle riding in the bed of a pickup on our way back to trail from Trout Lake, WA

Half'n'Half, myself, Quinoa and Choop hitching back up to Tuolomne Meadows from Yosemite Valley.