The Mean 14
After a refreshing 4-5 hours of sleep in a Walmart parking lot, we woke up at 3:30 to (yet again) Canned Heat blasting from Reed’s phone. We hastily rolled up our sleeping materials, before pulling on our hiking clothes and setting out for the Grays and Torreys trailhead. For breakfast, we each scarfed down a Clif bar or two on the drive. There was an air of uncertainty in the Covid Wagon that early morning. We had been warned of the abysmal road conditions leading up to the trailhead, but that would not prepare us for the trial ahead.
When we reached the dirt road, we were greeted by a sign that read, “4WD required.” As you would expect, this did not bode well for our cumbersome van. In our youthful (and perhaps naive) adventurousness, we decided to give it a shot. Sam and I watched on as Reed zigg-zagged over the rocky road as though navigating an asteroid field. Even while traveling at 1-2 mph, the van leapt up, down and sideways like a bucking bronco. We trudged about a mile up the three-mile track when we encountered a small inlet that had enough room to park. We debated whether we should park and hitchhike the remaining distance up the hill. We settled on giving the road another shot. Reed pulled back onto the dirt track, only for one of the rear tires to spin noisily. I smelled burning rubber immediately, and we changed out decision: “I guess we’re looking for a ride.”
We clambered out of the van and threw on our day trip packs, and then began to slog up the hill the remaining two miles. Then, almost immediately, a vehicle pulled up beside us. We flagged them down, and they graciously agreed to give us a ride the rest of the way to the trailhead. Our saviors’ names were Michaela and Aldo (apologies if spelled wrong). After we piled in, Michaela took the wheel and stormed up the hill with that glorious 4-wheel drive. Upon arrival at the trailhead, we wished our helpers good luck on their ascent and set out on the trail immediately.
Just like with our journey to Chasm Lake, we began huffing and puffing very quickly, and decided on a slow and steady pace up to the peaks. The twin Grays and Torreys Peaks loomed beautifully and menacingly in the distance, almost like a mirage that never seemed to get closer even as we hiked miles up the trail. We encountered many along the trail, all of whom were friendly and willing to share where they were from and what brought them to Colorado. This, we have found, is one of the most beautiful things about this state: it seems to bring together a variety of people from vastly different backgrounds who all share a common passion for the outdoors.
Ben descends into a state of madness as he realizes the peaks are not getting any closer.
Once we hit a series of switchbacks on the trail up to Grays Peak, it became more and more difficult. Sam hit his stride and took the lead, but my legs felt like jelly already. It seemed like we would never reach the summit; then, rather suddenly, we were there. Our first 14er! So commenced a parade of photo ops and shared greetings with fellow hikers. However, Torreys Peak (the consensus more difficult of the two) still loomed to the northwest.
The three lads pose together atop their first 14er.
Curious mountain goats approach the hikers on Grays Peak.
Accompanied by some fellow climbers, we clambered our way down the peak to the ridge the led up to the other summit. We trudged up a series of switchbacks, stopping frequently. Finally, we reached Torreys Peak. After taking more photos, Sam overheard several other hikers discussing planes. He asked if they were pilots, and all three of the men talking said yes. So commenced a lengthy and fascinating discussion of international travel and piloting experiences. As overused as the expression is, I think it applies perfectly to this situation: small world. After hanging out on the summit for a while, we began the journey back down. It turned out to be almost as grueling as the climb up; the sun was beating down and the snow became rather slick to walk on. After a tiresome slog back along the rocky trail, we finally reached the lot again.
14er number 2! The three westward drifters pose atop Torreys Peak.
The trail register serves as am adequate tool for our shameless self-advertisement.
We asked another two hikers if they would give us a ride to our van. They luckily agreed, and we thankfully saved ourselves from tacking another two miles onto our journey. After we reached our van, we spent some time recovering and figuring out where we would stay the night. We settled on going back to explore Boulder some more before heading out to a campsite. However, as it was getting late, our drive to Boulder was cut short, and we began a long and winding drive up to a highly-rated campsite outside Boulder. It was a painfully slow and bumpy drive along backroads, but we thought it would be worth it if we could have a nice, relaxing night in nature. However, as soon as we arrived, we were greeted by a sign that horrifyingly read FULL.
All three of us immediately lost our minds. Reed the Negotiator attempted to talk to the camp manager and find a site, but there were none available. Luckily, Reed had one last card up his sleeve: a hotel. We were able to secure a room with a discount (thanks again, Ashley!), and we drove the long road back to Boulder. After being transferred between three different hotels, we finally settled into our room, and, amazingly, were finally able to take showers. It was nice to have a real bed to sleep in, a sharp contrast to our previous night at Walmart. At last, we settled in and finished a packed and exhausting day.
