#19 - Climb Combo 14ers

In Colorado there are 50+ peaks over 14,000 feet in elevation, and I've been fortunate enough to climb a couple of them.  So for my challenge, I wanted to do multiple in the same climb.  After some back and forth, we settled on the Democrat-Cameron-Lincoln-Bross loop.  Since Kristen and I conquered Mount Democrat last summer, we decided to finish the loop.

Mount Cameron

We started our climb at about 4:30AM, using the moon and a small flashlight as our guide.  We made our way up and up as the cold and wind blasted us.  Since we had done the start of this route before, we knew what to expect, so that made the climb more manageable.  When we reached the saddle between Democrat and Cameron, we basked in the fact that we could be guides for people climbing Democrat, and we got the rest of the climb up Cameron to ourselves.  Frost covered the trail as we hiked in the shadow of the mountain towering above us, but we trekked and trekked until we finally reached the summit at 14,238 ft.  Although Cameron is considered an "unofficial 14er," it is still the 17th tallest peak in the state.  Counts for me!  We snapped a quick picture and because of the cold, we wanted to move on quickly.  Onto the next!

On the way up

On top of Cameron

Mount Lincoln

headed along the ridge toward Mount Lincoln, which looked like the most daunting stretch of the entire trip.  One couple was coming down from the summit but aside from them, we still had this entire stretch to ourselves.  The route got a little frostier and a little sketchier.  The last couple hundred feet proved to be a little daunting, so Kristen was content to stop just short of the summit, still conquering all but the final hump of Lincoln.  I headed up the slippery rocks and found myself on the summit at 14,286 feet - the 8th tallest peak in the state.  Still unable to really enjoy it because of the piercing wind, I snapped a quick photo and headed right back down to catch back up with Kristen.  Onto the next!

Lincoln from Cameron

Lincoln selfie

Mount Bross

This is when we finally started having a GREAT time!  The sun was finally coming up - the wind was dying down, and the satisfaction of climbing the two previous mountains was hitting us.  This was also the easiest stretch of the entire climb.  We headed down the easy hike across the ridge and started our final ascent of the day.  Tired and worn out, we took a few last bursts of energy and found ourselves standing once again on top of the world - 14,172 feet - the 22nd tallest peak in CO.  Because the weather was finally getting nice, and we were on the final mountain, we definitely took our time and enjoyed this one!

Lincoln from route to Bross

From Bross - Democrat, Cameron & Lincoln (and Quandary in background)

The Descent

Now all that was left was the way down - we knew there would be tough stretches, but it would be a relatively easy trek down to the trailhead.

WRONG.

About halfway down we ran into a snag.  The route split and headed down a really rough trail.  About halfway down this chunk, we were in a little over our heads - scrambling, scooting on our butts, crab walking, and shuffling our way down a super steep part of the trail.  We made it down a few feet at a time, and we were getting closer to where it leveled off.  After probably about 30 people were with us on the trail, and after a long time of brutally trudging our way down, a man's voice said that the REAL trail was about 50 yards away from us - we were on a rain gully that tons of people had taken that made it appear to be the trail.  So after all that ordeal, we had to scramble our way across a whole lot of rocks to make our way back to the trail.

Ugh...  Awful...

Once we regained our composure, we headed down, and the rest of it was uneventful.  That section sucked the life out of us, but we both tried to keep enjoying the rest of the journey.  Down and down we continued, until we finally reached grass... then flat ground... then finally the trailhead, thankful to be done.

Aside from our little unanticipated struggle, it was a great day, a great hike, and it was a great accomplishment for the two of us!

14ers 3, 4, and 5 in the books!

On the summit of Bross

#7 - Dive Into a Swimming Pool

Last night we had a pool party during RA training.  I had no intentions for this to be the night... until I opened my big mouth.

Rewind to when I was a kid - I took swimming lessons in the neighborhood, and I always passed with flying colors.  Except for the diving.  I always failed.  I never learned right.  It always hurt.  It always scared me.  Year after year, I would try to dive... but I got more and more scared.

That eventually turned into a phobia.  As I grew older, the fear grew with it.  Instead of trying and failing like I did as a kid, I just stopped trying.  I'd think about it and start getting nervous.  I just couldn't do it.  The last time I dove into a pool was when my age was a single digit.

Back to last night.  Sitting in the hot tub, watching some people dive, I started asking a few people about how to dive.  What do I do with my hands?  What do I do with my head?  How do I not bellyflop?  I started getting nervous.  Not tonight.

Let's get it over with.  I kept thinking I could do it.  I could cross it off tonight.  They suggested I start on the edge of the pool, then work my way to the blocks, then work my way to the diving board.  I crept to the edge of the pool and stared at the water.  I couldn't breathe.  No way I was diving off the side of the pool.  It was going to be one shot.  All or nothing.  So I decided it was time.  And I was going straight for the diving board.

I crept to the edge and looked down.  I can do this.  That's when everyone in the pool took notice and started chanting my name.  My heart started pounding.  "YOU'RE NOT HELPING!" I yelled.  I took a few deep breaths.  Now or never.  After a couple of seconds of strategizing... I went for it.

I rose from the water and I couldn't stop shaking... but I did it!

#8 - Hike from Gothic to Aspen

Gothic, CO to Aspen, CO is a 4.5 hour drive around the most rugged mountain range in Colorado.  Or it's a 10 mile hike straight through. 

My friend Adam hopped the bus from Denver to Gunnison to meet me on Thursday night.  We prepped, got to bed early, and braced ourselves for the 4:30AM alarms, hoping that the thunderstorms that swept in late at night would be gone by dawn.  In the darkness, we woke up, grabbed our breakfast, and headed to Crested Butte to catch our 6AM shuttle.  As the sun came up, the clouds in the sky were daunting.  With no chance of lightning til early afternoon, we wanted to press on, but we were getting a little nervous, because it was looking like it could be a wet day.  We decided to at least make it to the trailhead and then decided if we wanted to go for it or turn back.  On the way, we picked up 6 women in their 50s-60s, so naturally our macho-ness made us feel way better about the hike if they were doing it.  After a brief moose sighting and our shuttle driver taking the dirt mountain road like a NASCAR driver, we arrived at the trailhead and were greeted by a slight drizzle, and started our hike - knowing that if it stayed like this, we'd be ok!

After about a half mile we were awed by the amazing wildflowers that carpeted the valley - yellow, purple, blue, red... flowers as far as the eye could see in every direction.  That awe quickly melted as the rain picked up and we spent the next few miles getting soaked.  Luckily, Adam had a couple of trash bags so he saved my camera!  The trail wound through the valley at an easy incline (with a couple steeper spots), so we were making great time... and fine by me because between the rain, the muddy trail, and the bushes that our bodies would swipe across, we were completely drenched.  We knew that if it stayed like this, we'd be miserable...

About 3 miles into the hike the rain started clearing a little.  Then it stopped.  Then we were passed by a 5 foot tall girl speed walking her way up the mountain.  As we looked behind us, the clouds started a lift and patches of blue started coming out, just in time for us to hike over West Maroon Pass.  About 3.5 miles in, the easyish incline turned into a steep series of switchbacks as we ran into a dead end of mountain range, knowing we'd have to go up and over.  Breathing became heavy and pace became slow, but before we knew it, we made it to the top!  The valley behind us looked amazing in the sun, and we basked in the victory of the trail we had conquered.  The valley ahead of us looked majestic, and we reveled in the feeling that we would soon be descending into it.  But for now, we stopped for a few minutes to snap a few pictures and to grab a quick snack.  4 hard miles done - 6 easy miles to go.  For the first time in the hike, we really got to take in the surroundings, so we took advantage of it!

We started down into the valley and that's when we started seeing a lot more people who were coming from Aspen.  We chatted with a few on the way down, about the hike, about the obstacles that would be on the way, and some interactions were way funnier than others.  We crossed a few streams trying to tiptoe across the rocks, we crept through the muddy muck that the trail turned into in many sections, and just kept hiking down.  The view of the 13ers and 14ers around us was breathtaking, and now that the weather was finally nice, we started to dry off and made everything way more enjoyable.  After a few miles of steady downhill, we found ourselves at the base of the Maroon Bells and right alongside Pyramid Peak - and only the home stretch remained.

As we headed down to the first of two lakes that we'd hit, clouds started rolling over the Bells behind us, and along with the gray of the sky ahead of us, we knew that we weren't quite done with rain for the day.  As we headed around the lake, the clouds kept slowly rolling in and the rain started up again, and our ideas of being able to take our time and relax at the end of the hike were quickly washed away.  The last couple miles were in a steady rain, but then, we saw the final lake - which meant the end of our hike.

Adam and I rounded the final lake and peered back at the Maroon Bells - some of the most beautiful mountains and the most photographed spot in the state of Colorado.  Yet here's what we could see, and after my two previous unsuccessful attempts to see the Bells, I was now 0-for-3.  The Bells really do hate me.  We hopped a couple of buses and made it to our hotel in Snowmass, took advantage of finally being dry and warm, and waited for his wife Kristin and my Kristen to join us later that night.


















The next morning, we all reluctantly agreed to wake up early on a Saturday and make one more attempt to see the Bells, which was now my 4th attempt.  But this time, my luck changed, and we were treated to a breathtaking morning at the Maroon Bells. 

We enjoyed a wonderful partial weekend of Glenwood Springs, mini golf, some great meals, and lots of conversation, love, and laughter.

And another incredible experience is in the books!  Thank you Adam for taking the journey with me!

#15 - Go Camping in the Mountains

The destination for this list item was the beautiful Lake City, Colorado.  We made our first trip there a couple weeks ago, and instantly we were amazed by the beauty of the area.

Kristen and I headed up Saturday morning to find a campsite - I was a little worried since all sites in the area are on a first come basis, but we lucked out and got a great site at Deer Lakes, an area known for having moose.  In between rain clouds, we set up our tent and gathered up a little wood for later.

We headed back out to town to spend the afternoon, when we had our first amazing encounter - a momma and baby moose!

In town, we waited out some of the passing clouds by visiting a few of the shops, driving to see some of the mountains, and our favorite - mini golf!  We decided dinner HAD to be at the Packer Saloon - a place named after Alferd Packer, "America's favorite cannibal," an explorer known for his cannibalistic endeavors during the late 1800s.  As the quote at the memorial marking the site of the attacks says, "You're a man eatin' son of a... There was seven Democrats in Hinsdale County and you ate five of them." Lake City has for whatever reason embraced the fame that came along with these events, and the decor was fitting for my favorite Packer fan.  You can't make this stuff up...

We headed back to our camp site and decided to check and see if any moose were out at the ponds nearby... and let's just say we got quite the show!

After a couple of hours of watching our new friends, we made our way back to our tent.  Because of rain throughout the day, all of the wood in the area was soaked.  Luckily we picked up a bundle of firewood and the people staying in the site next to us had some lighter fluid, because I had to cheat to get a good fire going.  Once I had the fire going, the obvious next step was making s'mores.  But again, because of the rain, all sticks in the area were soaked, so I had to get creative.  I MacGyver'ed a couple of roasting sticks out of a golf club and a coat hanger, and we made some delicious desserts while enjoying the calm crackling of the fire.

After a night of mediocre sleep, we woke up to a cold, wet morning.  We gathered up our things and made one last look down to see if our moose friends were still around.  Sure enough...

All in all, I guess you could say this was a successful camping trip!

#14 - Complete a Triathlon

4:30AM my alarm went off, and it was time to roll.

4:31AM I got out of bed and proceeded to stub my toe, ripping off most of my toenail.  Smooth.  I put a bandaid and tape on basically holding my nail in place.  Not the way I anticipated starting my day.

by 5 I was out the door and headed to Aurora Reservoir.

I got to the transition area, racked my bike, put out my water and food, got my number Sharpied on, and was ready for the race.  I had some time to kill and nerves were high, so I spent a little time hanging out by the water just waiting for the time to get here.

As the Olympic triathletes got in the water and started their races, I met up with my friend Jo who was racing today as well.  She and her boyfriend were a great way to kill the time and ease the nerves.  Female triathletes were up, and Jo had to start her race.  Then it was our turn.  Game on.

SWIM - 500m

We stepped in the water and... chilly!  I took a couple panicked gasps when I heard the countdown... 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. GO!

I waited for the intense swimmers to clear out of the way and I started my 500m swim.  I was still adjusting to the temp so I couldn't get a good stroke going.  I just kept moving forward.  After about 75m, I was used to the water and was getting a decent stroke going.  During training, I only swam in a pool, so I wasn't used to the thrashing of the current.  I was moving slowly and was expending a ton of energy.  After 200m, I turned the corner and started swimming against the current.  I wasn't sure if I could make it.  After what seemed like an eternity I made it to 300m and rounded the corner and headed toward shore.  Just keep swimming had a whole new meaning to me...  I rotated a front crawl-ish stroke, back stroke, and side stroke.  Just keep swimming.  My breathing was getting rough.  Just keep swimming.  400m.  Just keep swimming.  I got closer and closer, worked harder and harder, and I finally was able to touch bottom.  I made it.  I headed up to the transition area in a dizzy, panting daze.

BIKE - 12 mi

I sat down to gain my balance, threw on some socks and shoes, grabbed a bite of my Clif Bar, pounded some water, and I headed out of transition and mounted my bike.  I knew the swim went a little slowly, so I was hoping the bike would feel a little better. the first couple miles were a breeze and I was happy to be flying through the course, passing a few bikers as I went.  Then I got to the hills.  I borrowed a bike for the summer to train and do the race, and it's old school and hard to adjust gears, so it was a challenge.  I was spent, but I kept pedaling.  I hit mile 5 and I was thrilled - just a mile to the turnaround.  Then I hit the hardest hill of the course.  It just kept going and going and going.  But I made it.  I hit the turnaround and flew back down the hill.  At around mile 8 my calf started to cramp, and I was petrified that it would get worse and mess with me the rest of the race.  Luckily, it cooperated enough and went away.  I hit mile 10 and headed to the final stretch of the bike leg.  A steady uphill to the transition area.  Awful.  I couldn't breathe.  My organs hurt.  I was sore.  But I made it.

RUN - 3.1 mi

I swapped shirts, pounded a little more water, and trudged toward the run course.  I was spent.  I wanted to be done.  My legs were heavy.  I kept trying to run, but I just couldn't sustain it.  I didn't care any more, I just had to finish.  I ran/walked the first mile, now feeling the heat.  I took the time to cheer on every runner that passed me on the way back toward the finish.  I trudged on.  I finally hit the turnaround and was on the home stretch.  So close!  Slowly, I crept closer and closer.  I kept dumping water over my head.  I rounded the final corner.  I saw the chute and the finish line.  An amazing feeling of euphoria came over me.  The announcer welcomed me in, I made it over to Kristen, who was cheering me on, I gave her a kiss, and then I crossed the finish line.

I made it!

Kristen found me and told me how proud she was of me - I met up with Jo and her boyfriend, and we shared in our excitement of being done.  A brutal race, but an enjoyable one and super memorable for me.  My results were slow to come in, and they headed out.

Way to go, Jo!

Kristen had to leave to take her mom to the airport, so I had an excuse to just hang out and relax.  I went back to get my results - it didn't go as well as I had hoped, and I had expected my times to be a little better, but there was one thing that gave me a double take.  It said Clydesdales: 3/10

For those of you who don't know, in addition to the regular age brackets, some triathlons add extra divisions for Athena (women) and Clydesdales (men) based on weight - in this case, Clydesdales are men over 225 lbs.  It said I got 3rd place.  It had to be a typo.

I waited around for the awards ceremony, and they made the announcement:  3rd place Clydesdales: Jeffrey Parker.  I was floored.  I made my way up and accepted my award, still in shock.  My only goal was to finish, and here I was, getting an award.

It was exhausting, exhilarating, draining, refreshing, demoralizing, and uplifting all at the same time.  And yes, I can't wait for the next one!

A special thanks to my biggest fan for coming to cheer me on along the way!

And yes, this is already on my car!