Three Peaks, One Burrito

Competitive Egos, Chossy Ridges, and Regret-Filled Rice

After our first outing on Shavano, Tabeguache, Antero, Princeton, and Yale and second on Columbia and Harvard, we headed back out to tackle Mount Belford, Oxford, and Missouri last Sunday.

Because we were doing a day trip,

Candice Burt

and I forewent the Nolan’s 14 route and started from Missouri Gulch Trailhead. Ah, we meet again. We had climbed Belford twice and Oxford once this winter, but hadn’t hit Missouri due to avalanche risk.

We left the trailhead shortly after 7:15 AM, passed multiple weekend warriors, and stood on the summit of Belford around 9:45, just two and a half hours after we began.

Belford was the first 14er we encountered other people on the summit. I often retreat to the mountains to escape others, but it was refreshing to see so many enjoy the thin air on a beautiful summer Sunday. You would’ve thought the day was sponsored by Melanzana.

On the descent, Candice’s race instincts kicked in and she chased a fellow runner who had flown by us down the rocky ridge until we hit the saddle. This allowed us to get to the summit of Oxford in less than half an hour. Two peaks down before 11 AM. Momentum and competition are powerful forces.

After a quick brie-powered out and back, we dropped down to Elkhead Pass, once again passing our “friend” who passed us on Belford, but this time stopping to exchange beta.

Both aiming to summit Missouri, I shared what I had read about the notorious east ridge:

“Broken stack of dinner plates” was also mentioned.

And in the words of climbing legend, Gerry Roach, the second man to complete the Seven Summits, the route is “so rotten that it is relegated to nightmares.”

While we wanted to scout the east ridge, which is typically taken for Nolan’s attempts, we knew it was best to drop to the valley and take the popular northwest ridge, especially for our third peak of the day when fatigued and not going for time.

“There are old climbers and there are bold climbers, but there are no old, bold climbers.”

- Paul Petzoldt, American mountaineer, wilderness educator, founder of NOLS

The east ridge stays higher and is shorter in terms of mileage, but as we’ve learned, the fastest route isn’t always the shortest.

The chossy east ridge of Missouri as seen from just below the saddle headed into the valley via Elkhead Pass

Missouri’s east ridge isn’t even listed or labeled as a route on 14ers.com. To access it from Belford, you’d take B3 to Elkhead Pass and stay left toward the number 6s instead of dropping to the lower intersection of M1 & M3.

Even the standard route was a little hairy and required some scrambling across steep, scree-filled gullies. As we rode the ridge, our moods were brightened by an Australian Shepherd puppy in a hiker’s pack, but the clouds above Belford darkened. By 1:45 PM, we were on top of Missouri, our third 14er of the day.

Such a good boy

With Candice on the summit of Missouri Mountain on July 13

We snapped some photos and quickly began our descent, motivated, or scared, by the sound of thunder and sight of lightning. A friendly guy who literally tapped the summit and turned around joined in on the type 2 fun, shared stories, and made the descent fly by.

When we reached the meadow, we once again saw the guy we passed and who passed us. This time, my competitiveness kicked in and I sarcastically, but not sarcastically, told Candice we needed to beat him and his friends back to the trailhead.

Being less careful with my footing, I skidded on an unstable rock, immediately felt pain in my high ankle and shin, felt foolish, and was reminded that we needed to go at our own pace. “It takes as long as it takes,” I told myself. Run your own race.

After bagging ten 14,000 foot peaks in nine days, we felt stronger and more acclimated. Of course, we had muscle soreness and the usual niggles endurance athletes are accustomed to, but it’s amazing how resilient our bodies are.

As a reward for getting an early start, for us at least, we hit our favorite spot in Leadville, Casa Sanchez. I celebrated, or punished myself, with the 4-pound challenger burrito—a menu item that had been tempting me for weeks. If you finish it in thirty minutes, it’s free. Say less.

Never being one to shy away or back down from a dare, even self-imposed ones, I went for it. I started off strong, finishing half of the gargantuan chicken-filled tortilla in seven minutes, scoffing down as much as I could before my stomach realized it was at capacity. Shortly after, the burrito was gone, but I was left with the fourth mountain of the day—a family-sized portion of rice and beans.

While I had an appetite after a 15-mile ramble in the high alpine, I wasn’t ravenous, but wanted—needed—this monkey off my back. After all, Naval says, “It's easier to fulfill your material desires than to renounce them,” though he probably wasn’t talking about head-sized burritos.

25 minutes in, the chef came out to check in on me. I smiled through the pain and nodded, lacking the energy to speak, giving the false impression that I was okay. I stared at the pile of rice with dread, questioning my life choices and whether I’d ever been so full—even on Thanksgiving, when my brother and I compete to see who can gain the most weight.

Egged on by Colorado Trail hikers at the table next to us, I reluctantly inhaled the remaining grains using a much-needed and helpful technique of chasing the bites with sips of water, Joey Chestnut style.

I looked up, unwell, and joked to Candice, “Are you turned on right now?” as I wiped refried bean residue from my sunburnt lips. I finished the challenge with 45 seconds to spare. Very uncomfortable, somewhat disgusted, but undeniably proud. No T-shirt, no medal, just internal glory.

Replenishing my glycogen stores with the 4-pound challenger burrito at Casa Sanchez. Finished with 45 seconds to spare. The free meal wasn’t worth it.