Distance: 10.96 Miles/17.64 Km
Time: 9.5 hours
Elevation Gain: 1665 ft/507.5 m
This morning, after a breakfast of granola and fixings, we packed up to head for our first truly challenging ascent: Colby Pass, 12,000 feet/3567 m above sea level. If you look in the picture below, just to the right of the trees on the left is a small dip. That is what we were headed to.
The ascent quickly led us up past Colby Lake for one last view.
As we arrived at the based of the ascent to pass, one thing that quickly stuck out was that there was no clear path to the top. Not to worry, assured our guides: It is there as a series of switchbacks that can be ascended.
If there was a path there, it surely did not reveal itself to my eyes.
In hiking, of course, there are only two options: go up or go back. Going back was at least three days of hiking back to a trailhead with a van that was no longer there, so the only option was to go up.
This was hard climbing, some of the hardest that I have done. It was not that I felt like I was ever in any particular danger of falling off, just that due to the steepness of the pass it was pretty much directly up from switchback to switchback. Adding 30 lbs of supplies and gear to your overall bodyweight just makes the issue that much more "invigorating".
Looking up is of no benefit either: If one is lucky one sees nothing; if one is not, one sees the heads bobbing from the climbers ahead of you. Somehow that makes it all the more depressing, seeing how far you have left to climb.
The trail never really "evened out": It was always up and up and up and an angle. My stops got more and more frequent; hauling myself forward with my hiking poles became more and more of a thing. For such a relatively short distance, this was both physically and mentally challenging.
And then - after walking and stopping and looking back at the view and giving up on looking ahead because it is terribly depressing, one looks up - and suddenly, the top is in sight.
Never have I been happier.
I was midway to the top of the pass as I stumbled over. We waited as the remaining members of our team pulled themselves over the top as well, then celebrated with water and a snack.
Colby Pass, as it turns out, mattered a great deal.
For myself, Colby Pass was the first truly significant hiking challenge I met on this hike - yes, there were ascents and descents, and yes, they were challenging - but Colby Pass was the first one that had me doubting whether or not I could complete this hike, let alone scale Mt. Whitney. Standing beneath the pass, looking up at what appeared to be a solid rockfall wall with no path and being told we are going up and over, was disheartening. Actually realizing what the climb involved added nothing to my encouragement.
But I made it. And later - several times on this hike, including ascending Mt. Whitney - when I felt that I simply could not go on, I reminded myself that I had climbed Colby Pass.
If I could climb Colby Pass, I could do anything.
Got tired just looking at those photos TB, kudos to climbing Colby Pass. That last photo.....whew!
ReplyDeleteNylon12, thank you. That pass picture is only slightly exaggerated by the angle I used to take it.
DeleteThose are tough but rewarding. That is something that will make you or break you. Had to reach deep to make that I'll bet. And found there was more to you than even you knew? Excellent.
ReplyDeleteI climbed a mountain to get to a repeater shack. It took hours to go straight up via the switchback method. Loose shale. Very tough sledding for a coastal flatlander. I was in decent shape. I'd just hiked well over six miles in one day with the the boy scout troop. I was encourage to rent a helicopter to make the ascent, but I hoofed it. I though my heart would explode. Oxygen at altitude isn't a thick as at 200 feet ASL.
I made it. The way down took 15 minutes. I passed the truck, and had to do switchbacks to get back to it. Another 15 minutes. I rented helicopters after that.
I realized I wasn't as weak minded as I thought. If I could get my head around it, I could usually get it done.
STxAR, well done you! One thing I have honestly found is that if I just go into something without fully researching how hard it is, I am likely to do better than if I studied and realized how truly difficult it might be.
DeleteSwitchbacks seem largely dependent on who build them and when they were built. Apparently newer trails are being built with slightly more forgiving grades.
I am reminded of a hike many years ago when I was climbing up to I think a place called Windy Gap, much like Colby Pass. The big difference is that about four or five times I would look up and see the "top" only to get to that point and realize that it was just the skyline and before me was a lot more uphill. Eventually like you I conquered Windy Gap and thought I had achieved it all... until on the way down the backside when I got the blister of all blisters that haunted me for the rest of that trip.
ReplyDeleteEd, I did the same thing two or three times heading up. I had the same issue during the final ascent of Tanner Trail at the Grand Canyon. I finally simply stopped looking and did not get interested until I saw the tree line. Then I knew I was close.
DeleteI ended up with two blisters, which was a bit surprising as I had "broken" these shoes in. Not enough, apparently.
I had well broken in boots too. I think it is just the pitch causing your foot to slide forward all the time that heats things up causing the blisters. (When going uphill, the pitch pushes your foot back into the heal support and prevents sliding.) I have since learned to stop whenever I feel things heating up and alleviate the problem before it gets worse. Lacing up the boots extra tight before starting downhill helps as well.
DeleteEd, pitch had a lot to do with it. I ended up having blisters on the pad of my right foot (really the ball) and the outer heel of my left foot. This was, in retrospect, 100% due to how I walked on the trails. Especially with the smaller more rounded trails, I could definitely feel myself building a blister on the left heel.
DeleteI did catch my little toes in time; and minimized damage on the right foot. The left one literally appeared one day without warning.
Gorgeous pictures of God's creation, TB. But all I saw were a lot of ways to fall or twist an ankle, so kudos to you on your achievement!
ReplyDeleteYou all be safe and God bless.
Linda, it does indeed sometimes feel like the trail builders thought of getting there first, physical risk second.
DeleteWell done. Your physical and mental preparations helped make it a success and it speaks well also for your mental toughness.
ReplyDeleteI've not yet used it, but our hiking first aid kit contains some sticky moleskin for blisters.
Thanks John. I am looking for ways to improve physical conditioning for next year, which is likely a harder hike.
DeleteMoleskin comes highly recommended by every guide I have had.
Excellent view on that last shot.
ReplyDeleteThanks John. The vistas really make themselves - I just point the phone and click.
DeleteNow I'm starting to worry about the descent. Rugged terrain. And yes, a beautiful last picture, TB.
ReplyDeleteBecki, I have always come to worry about the descents - I am far more likely to injure myself going down than going up.
DeletePasses make for beautiful photos, partially because you can see both ways at almost the same time. It does make me wonder what the passes of actual life are.
Aaahhh... is this a glimpse into some of the insights you had on this hike?
DeletePartially, yes - even if it just makes me more conscious of them.
Delete