The Grind and Gratitude of Mount Columbia
What the Mountains Take and What They Give Back
Last week, I joined
in Leadville as she set out to climb seven Colorado 14ers (peaks in the state over 14,000’) in seven days.When we arrived at her home in the sleepy, former silver mining town on Saturday evening, we wasted no time. We organized our gear, packed our packs, and reluctantly set our alarms for 5:45 AM, knowing we’d be losing an hour of sleep due to daylight savings.
The hour drive to Buena Vista flew by—sipping coffee, eating oatmeal, eagerly anticipating the day’s adventures while enjoying the sunrise over the Sawatch. We left the Harvard Lakes trailhead at 8:19 AM and followed the Colorado Trail longer than we should’ve, missing the not-so-obvious turn for the faint southeast ridge trail near 10,000’ and adding a mile to our already long day.
We bushwhacked through mixed terrain—a messy combination of dirt, snow, and ice—using boots, snowshoes, and microspikes until 11,500’, where we reached a clearing and headed straight up.
We followed the ridge crest, feeling simultaneously accomplished and defeated after each false summit. Only when we hit 12,700’ did the actual summit reveal itself, still a mile, 1,000’, and an hour away. Even at 13,300’, the southeast ridge seemed never-ending; however, the white snow provided a stunning, stark contrast to the bluebird sky. Mt Harvard, seemingly close, came into view at 13,800’.
At 3 PM, after nearly seven hours, we stood atop Mt Columbia at 14,075’. After debate and down-climbing to scope out the traverse, we regretfully decided to bail on Harvard—still 2.4 miles and 1,500’ away. Considering we were traveling 1 mph and would likely slow due to fatigue, we assumed it would add another five hours to the trip. While we’re both comfortable climbing at night, we didn’t have enough food or water as we underestimated how long Columbia alone would take.
After coming to terms with, and finding relief in, the decision, we enjoyed an hour on the summit on a gorgeous, windless winter day. We snacked on corn-in-a-bag and string cheese and began our descent at 4:15 PM, now appreciative of the extra hour of daylight.
On our way back, we retraced our steps and navigated through a field of deer closer to North Cottonwood Creek, hoping to stick to flatter terrain. It was at this point when I felt lethargic. I was depleted on the ascent and summit too, despite shoving mixed nuts, dried fruit, and ketones down my throat. I was slogging behind Candice, thankful she was leading the way, as I was in a lights-on-nobody-home state. I had never felt worse in the mountains.
She sensed my struggle and reminded me to consume my remaining provisions. When we reached treeline around 6:30 PM, the sun was beginning to set over Mt Yale across the valley. I was captivated by the way the sun was hitting the bare juniper trees. We were short on time, losing precious light, being blown over by strong gusts, struggling to stay warm, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop staring at these trees.
In that moment, I gained a second wind that propelled me through the dark of night. It could’ve been a boost from the 500-calorie peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich I scoffed down in record time; however, more than anything, I think it was an appreciation for the beautiful, yet harsh, environment I found myself in—voluntarily suffering with my significant other in a remote landscape, connected to myself, her, and Mother Nature.
My buddy Scottie taught me that our brains cannot physiologically respond to gratitude and anxiety at the same time. When I became aware of my surroundings and thankful for the moment I was in, I no longer dreaded the rest of our hike, nor felt sluggish. Twelve hours later, we arrived at the trailhead and headed home, frayed and satisfied.
It’s often said that time is our most valuable resource. In recent years, I’ve come to the conclusion that attention is more important. In recent weeks, I’ve realized that it’s actually energy. Everyone has the same 24 hours in the day. What you do with it, and how you feel when spending it, is what actually matters. Allocate appropriately.
After grinding up Columbia and catching up on some much-needed sleep, we set out just days later for another ambitious link-up in the Collegiate Peaks Wilderness…
Ok Adam I know you didn’t mean it to be but I laughed at your struggles descriptions because you should know better than to go on an adventure with Candace the World Conqueror lol. But at least you survived to tell us about it. Great read. Luv it!