15 + 18 points
The Highest Place by George McArthur
October 28th, 2012 1:53 PM
Going To The Highest Point (Well, Almost)
Long's Peak, one of the 14,000 foot mountains in Colorado, will capture and hold your imagination long after you've first seen it. It is the mountain with the broad, flat summit where an Arapahoe medicine man once trapped eagles. It is the mountain with a sheer wall that rises 1,700 feet above an ancient lake. Joy and I had dreamed of climbing this mountain all winter. Finally, we would get the chance to do it.
Until we reached the "Keyhole," the climb was nothing more than an uphill hike. At a distance, the boulder field
seemed to flow up gradually into the saddle of the Keyhole. But as we got closer, we soon discovered it was steep enough to require full deployment of all limbs and digits.
"This will probably be the worst part," I told her as we rested 10 feet below the saddle. I was wrong.
First, there was the howling wind that nearly blew us back down as we pulled ourselves up over the edge. But the wind was minor compared to what we found on the other side, which was basically nothing straight down to the Tundra 300 feet below. At that point, Joy had had enough. She kissed me and told me to be careful.
The trail leading out of the Keyhole was fairly wide for the first 400 yards. It seemed safe and I felt my confidence grow with every step until I climbed into a slab of rock wedged into the side of the mountain. The trail ahead, which now narrowed to 2 feet, curved out of sight to the east and I could no longer see a slope below it. I was now sitting on a 2-foot ledge, halfway between Heaven and Hell, where my dream of standing on the summit had suddenly collided with my fear of falling. As I sat there, I tried to forget the abyss and envision what the summit must be like; a panorama of mountains, lakes and maybe even a red-tailed hawk soaring in lazy gyres 2,000 feet below. Had the Heavens not interceded, my vision might have goaded me around the bend.
As I edged back on the trail, I bumped my camera, dislodging my lens cap. The cap fell to the ledge and bounced over the side. After what seemed like five minutes of total silence, I heard: tick, tick, tick, the unmistakeable sound of plastic striking granite. No doubt about it, God was telling me to go back. And so I did.
Long's Peak, one of the 14,000 foot mountains in Colorado, will capture and hold your imagination long after you've first seen it. It is the mountain with the broad, flat summit where an Arapahoe medicine man once trapped eagles. It is the mountain with a sheer wall that rises 1,700 feet above an ancient lake. Joy and I had dreamed of climbing this mountain all winter. Finally, we would get the chance to do it.
Until we reached the "Keyhole," the climb was nothing more than an uphill hike. At a distance, the boulder field
seemed to flow up gradually into the saddle of the Keyhole. But as we got closer, we soon discovered it was steep enough to require full deployment of all limbs and digits.
"This will probably be the worst part," I told her as we rested 10 feet below the saddle. I was wrong.
First, there was the howling wind that nearly blew us back down as we pulled ourselves up over the edge. But the wind was minor compared to what we found on the other side, which was basically nothing straight down to the Tundra 300 feet below. At that point, Joy had had enough. She kissed me and told me to be careful.
The trail leading out of the Keyhole was fairly wide for the first 400 yards. It seemed safe and I felt my confidence grow with every step until I climbed into a slab of rock wedged into the side of the mountain. The trail ahead, which now narrowed to 2 feet, curved out of sight to the east and I could no longer see a slope below it. I was now sitting on a 2-foot ledge, halfway between Heaven and Hell, where my dream of standing on the summit had suddenly collided with my fear of falling. As I sat there, I tried to forget the abyss and envision what the summit must be like; a panorama of mountains, lakes and maybe even a red-tailed hawk soaring in lazy gyres 2,000 feet below. Had the Heavens not interceded, my vision might have goaded me around the bend.
As I edged back on the trail, I bumped my camera, dislodging my lens cap. The cap fell to the ledge and bounced over the side. After what seemed like five minutes of total silence, I heard: tick, tick, tick, the unmistakeable sound of plastic striking granite. No doubt about it, God was telling me to go back. And so I did.
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posted by George McArthur on November 3rd, 2012 6:14 PM
Thanks. I tried to add pix but whatever I did didn't work.
Thanks for the help.
posted by Bex. on November 3rd, 2012 11:54 AM
I concur! Even though you didn't make it to the top, its a good write-up but needs pix!
posted by Bex. on November 24th, 2012 10:44 PM
I'm back to add more points as promised! yay for pix!
You might not have made it to the top, but that was a beautiful walk :)
PS: You might grab more attention if you add the pictures to the story instead of a seperate file. This is one way to do that:
"As for pictures (I don't know whether this also works for other media), the easiest way is to use the proof button. This will insert a short command into the editor. All you have to do then is add the number of the item in your media gallery, so for instance:
[proof:1, size:100, align:left] for the first item in your media gallery, etc."