As time goes on I continue to enjoy the truck life. I anticipated a wear on spirits at the beginning of this journey, but quite the contrary has proven true. As the pages of the calendar turn more benefits of this life become apparent to me and I plan on pushing it further into the cold months than I had originally thought reasonable. Days such as follows motivate me to continue this life that results in uninterrupted outdoor endeavors.
After a day of rock climbing in an unfamiliar area I set up camp near a patch of ponderosa pine trees. After turning in early as the sunset I awoke at 11:30 p.m. to an ear piercing screech in the forest that backed my home on wheels. I recognized the noise as a bird darting from one tree overhead to another. Irritated, but patiently I waited for the noise to stop. However, 30 minutes of this spastic nocturnal creature hindered me from falling back asleep. So I switched positions to the driver's seat and drove off to find a new home for the night.
From my limited knowledge of the area the nearest patch of dirt to legally park my truck in solitude for the night was at the base of Mt. Sopris. Laying near to this mountain that dominates the skyline above Carbondale, Colorado I was recalling my previous attempt to tag the summit, consequently turning back due to wet, spring snow and a rain storm. I had no obligations the following day and an insatiable hunger for mountain adventures. So I decided to set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. and take another stab at climbing the mountain.
Bright and early I awoke, made coffee, packed my boots, crampons, ice axe, and water necessary for my planned route to the summit via a couloir of hard snow to the top. By 6:15 a.m. I was on the trail with a mission.
About 2 miles into the hike as I was walking through a grassy clearing in an Aspen grove as I heard heavy thumps and breaking twigs in the forest. Mere seconds later the noises grew alarmingly near. Then I spotted a chocolate colored bear not running, but bounding through the grass. As it crossed my path I stood dumbstruck with no means of defense or plan of action if that force of nature was to change directions towards me. All I could muster with a shaky, unsure tone was, "ohh, h-h-hey buddy".
Unfazed by the opportunity to pounce on a tasty, defenseless hiker the bear continued on it's mission to get whatever it was bolting towards. Leaving me with a new appreciation for life, I heard an animalistic screech in the woods nearby. Naturally, the bear won. It defeated whatever it was after, and had food for the day. That beast's raw power was displayed in perfection as it tore through the forest, in clear control of whatever was set before it. Humans are only at the top of the food chain because of their brain, not there brawn. If I hope to make it through this world in one piece I better use the intellect and good judgement available!
Spirits high from the outcome of my encounter with a bear in attack mode I continued up the mountain making noise to alert the bear I was in the area, as to not surprise him. After a couple hours of hustle through boulders, and scampering up a 40 degree snow slope I stood atop the summit, looking over the beautiful Elk Range. Now that the hard work was through it was time for the fun part! After climbing a snow slope such as this you are rewarded by the ability to glissade down the way you came up. Sliding down on ass, using the ice axe as a brake I descended about 1500 feet in a small 10 minute time frame. It beats the hiking trail! To follow that excitement I jumped in the icy alpine Thomas Lake. I couldn't spend too much enjoying the cool water and warm sun though; I still wanted to make it back to the trail head fast to achieve my 6 hour roundtrip goal.
Shirtless, ice axe in hand (A.K.A. now my bear weapon), I ran down the trail 4 miles back to my truck as fast as my legs allowed. Naturally, as I drew nearer the trailhead I ran into more novice hikers and families out for a mellow stroll. I resembled an image of William Wallace from Braveheart, bounding down the mountain, no shirt, holding what could appear to be a weapon of warfare in hand. You can imagine I received some odd looks by the unsuspecting hiker, as I bolted by as fast as the bear that had put the fear of god into my heart.
I approached a slow paced couple lacking fitness, but with high spirits to be in this incredible place. They stared at me, with their faces smeared with bright, white sunscreen, and asked in awe, "Did you run all the way up too!?" I stopped to chat for a brief moment, and had to share my bear story with them. Their response seemed be fear of what may lay on the trail ahead for them! Never the less, they continued up, and I continued down to my truck.
Upon arrival at the trailhead I achieved my 6 hour truck-to-truck goal and collapsed on the tailgate to refuel, relax, and prepare to meet a friend in a few hours to finish the marathon day with rock climbing until the sunset. At day's end I considered it a complete success, feeling full of life, and absolutely content.
After a day of rock climbing in an unfamiliar area I set up camp near a patch of ponderosa pine trees. After turning in early as the sunset I awoke at 11:30 p.m. to an ear piercing screech in the forest that backed my home on wheels. I recognized the noise as a bird darting from one tree overhead to another. Irritated, but patiently I waited for the noise to stop. However, 30 minutes of this spastic nocturnal creature hindered me from falling back asleep. So I switched positions to the driver's seat and drove off to find a new home for the night.
From my limited knowledge of the area the nearest patch of dirt to legally park my truck in solitude for the night was at the base of Mt. Sopris. Laying near to this mountain that dominates the skyline above Carbondale, Colorado I was recalling my previous attempt to tag the summit, consequently turning back due to wet, spring snow and a rain storm. I had no obligations the following day and an insatiable hunger for mountain adventures. So I decided to set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. and take another stab at climbing the mountain.
Bright and early I awoke, made coffee, packed my boots, crampons, ice axe, and water necessary for my planned route to the summit via a couloir of hard snow to the top. By 6:15 a.m. I was on the trail with a mission.
Route of ascent shown in black.
About 2 miles into the hike as I was walking through a grassy clearing in an Aspen grove as I heard heavy thumps and breaking twigs in the forest. Mere seconds later the noises grew alarmingly near. Then I spotted a chocolate colored bear not running, but bounding through the grass. As it crossed my path I stood dumbstruck with no means of defense or plan of action if that force of nature was to change directions towards me. All I could muster with a shaky, unsure tone was, "ohh, h-h-hey buddy".
Unfazed by the opportunity to pounce on a tasty, defenseless hiker the bear continued on it's mission to get whatever it was bolting towards. Leaving me with a new appreciation for life, I heard an animalistic screech in the woods nearby. Naturally, the bear won. It defeated whatever it was after, and had food for the day. That beast's raw power was displayed in perfection as it tore through the forest, in clear control of whatever was set before it. Humans are only at the top of the food chain because of their brain, not there brawn. If I hope to make it through this world in one piece I better use the intellect and good judgement available!
Spirits high from the outcome of my encounter with a bear in attack mode I continued up the mountain making noise to alert the bear I was in the area, as to not surprise him. After a couple hours of hustle through boulders, and scampering up a 40 degree snow slope I stood atop the summit, looking over the beautiful Elk Range. Now that the hard work was through it was time for the fun part! After climbing a snow slope such as this you are rewarded by the ability to glissade down the way you came up. Sliding down on ass, using the ice axe as a brake I descended about 1500 feet in a small 10 minute time frame. It beats the hiking trail! To follow that excitement I jumped in the icy alpine Thomas Lake. I couldn't spend too much enjoying the cool water and warm sun though; I still wanted to make it back to the trail head fast to achieve my 6 hour roundtrip goal.
Mt. Sopris summit view
Shirtless, ice axe in hand (A.K.A. now my bear weapon), I ran down the trail 4 miles back to my truck as fast as my legs allowed. Naturally, as I drew nearer the trailhead I ran into more novice hikers and families out for a mellow stroll. I resembled an image of William Wallace from Braveheart, bounding down the mountain, no shirt, holding what could appear to be a weapon of warfare in hand. You can imagine I received some odd looks by the unsuspecting hiker, as I bolted by as fast as the bear that had put the fear of god into my heart.
I approached a slow paced couple lacking fitness, but with high spirits to be in this incredible place. They stared at me, with their faces smeared with bright, white sunscreen, and asked in awe, "Did you run all the way up too!?" I stopped to chat for a brief moment, and had to share my bear story with them. Their response seemed be fear of what may lay on the trail ahead for them! Never the less, they continued up, and I continued down to my truck.
Upon arrival at the trailhead I achieved my 6 hour truck-to-truck goal and collapsed on the tailgate to refuel, relax, and prepare to meet a friend in a few hours to finish the marathon day with rock climbing until the sunset. At day's end I considered it a complete success, feeling full of life, and absolutely content.
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