Day Seventeen and Eighteen, Guanella Pass, CO: Mt. Bierstadt

Day Seventeen: Basecamp
The night before the climb, my Uncle Ben and I camped out on Guanella Pass, located at the foot of Mt. Bierstadt. Guanella Pass has an altitude of about 11,660 feet and is a plain field of scrub, and therefore great to camp on. The mountains get very cold at night – every 1,000 feet of altitude being roughly equivalent to a 4 degree drop in temperature – and the temperature dropped to freezing after the sun went down.

The primary reason for camping out the night before is the departure time; the hike is 3.5 miles each way, and we left at 6.45am the next morning. And camping is a fun thing to do anyway.

Day Eighteen: Tackling the Mountain
Mt. Bierstadt – in the background of this picture, taken from basecamp – is one of Colorado’s 52 official fourteeners; peaks that top out over 14,000 feet. The most obvious problem in scaling these is elevation; Acute Mountain Sickness, (also known simply as altitude sickness), can set in as low as 8,000 feet. At our starting point of 11,600 feet, the air contains only 66% of the oxygen found at sea level. At the summit altitude of 14,060 feet, there is only 60% as much oxygen. The thinner air also means that the relative humidity is drastically decreased. As you exhale, the moisture from your lungs transfers to the dry air you’ve just breathed in, making constant hydration essential. Dehydration can exacerbate the symptoms of AMS, making headaches, lightheadedness, poor judgment, dizzy spells, and visions spots even worse.

The most important thing, therefore, is to be prepared. This includes an extensive gear and supply list: food and water, (I brought along liquid carbohydrate fuel that tastes like death but is digested quickly, carb-loaded trail mix, trail bars, and a gallon of water), layers of clothing, (moisture-wicking tee shirt, mid layer, soft shell jacket, fleece, and a hard shell rain jacket, along with a hat and gloves), and emergency supplies, (signal mirror, storm proof matches, first aid kit, compass, emergency blanket, etc.) A detailed topography map and GPS are a must, and we had both. All told, my pack weighed a little over 20 lbs. While one of the easier fourteeners, Mt. Bierstadt is still deadly. You’d think that most people would have a reasonable idea of what to expect, and bring the proper gear. Sadly, this is not the case.

On our descent, we passed a kid in a cotton Superman shirt and shorts, with one empty plastic bottle of water – less than 1/8th of the amount I consumed on the hike – huffing and out of breath, asking if it got any worse. Shockingly, when we pointed to the summit, he was unaware that it was his destination. He had no pack, and informed us that he had set out at 11.45am – five hours after us. As this kid kept ascending, it would only get colder and windier, and the air thinner. And that would be his best case scenario. Mountains are notorious for creating their own weather patterns, which can change from sunny and calm to a freezing thunderstorm with pounding winds – in a matter of minutes. Hypothermia is a given with no heavy clothing or natural shelter. 

The hike had several distinct phases. The first 1.2 miles are relatively easy, descending about 200 feet, crossing Gomer Creek (the crossing seen on your right), and then ascending back up 200 feet. This took us about 40 minutes, stopping to take pictures twice. At 7.25am, we were at 11,700 feet.

The second phase is pretty comfortable as well, rising from 11,700 feet to 13,000 feet. In the picture to the left, you can faintly see the trail we came up along the ridge. This section was about 1.6 miles long and took us about 90 minutes; 30 of which were spent stopped taking pictures or eating. In the first half hour we covered 500 vertical feet and roughly .75 miles. After that, the grade began to pick up. The last 800 vertical feet took the remaining hour. At 8.55am, we were standing at 13,000 feet, having covered 1,300 vertical feet since we left camp. On foot, we had covered 2.80 miles in about 2 hours.

The third section – the final 1,060 vertical feet – would be the most challenging. The first 130 feet were not especially difficult, the trail traversing the mountain and thus making for a softer pitch. However, the terrain had changed from an ascending trail through soft ground to an ill-defined path over steep builders.

At 13,130 feet, we stopped to rest and down some carbohydrate fuel, hoping to accomplish the next 620 feet at a steady pace and avoiding any rest stops. As I mentioned before, this orange goo tastes like vomit. But the liquid carbohydrates digest quickly and give a burst of energy. The picture above shows the trail ahead, through the snow, and then over boulders. You can’t even see the top ridge. It was physically exhausting work, especially in the scarce air. Each step required a full extension of the leg, hauling body and pack a couple feet onto the next boulder, where the process would be repeated. When we finally emerged on semi-level ground, it had been 40 minutes, and we had ascended 630 feet in 0.4 miles. We had taken only a few extremely brief stops. Still, this slogging pace of 0.6 mph was about a quarter of what we were accomplishing at the lower elevations.

Having ascended those last grueling 630 feet and standing at 13,746 feet above sea level, we were greeted by a summit that still towered over 300 feet 0ver us (see above). On the way down, we saw one man reach that ridge – only to take one look at the summit, and turn to tell his wife that he was done and going no further.

The truth is that the final summit pitch was, compared to the boulders before, the easy part. The first leg started over the snowy ridge seen on your left, just feet away from a thousands-foot drop. Then we hit more boulders. Thankfully, a path could be made over the boulders that was not as physically exhausting as the previous pitch. The steps were smaller, and the excitement of being so close to the top – no doubt helped along by an altitude-induced euphoria – kept us going. When we finally reached the summit at 14,060 feet, it was 10.19am. We had covered 3.60 miles in about 3.50 hours, ascending 2,500 feet.

Feeling as though you are on top of the world is an expression often used, but rarely realized. This was one of those cases where the feeling matched the reality. It’s impossible to put into words how it feels to have reached the summit after so much hard work.

There are far more pictures at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/reidksmith.