Mt. Audubon and the Monsoons

As Tundra Guardians (great title, huh?) we begin every other Sunday by packing up, driving to Rocky, loading our TG vehicle, calling ourselves into service, and rolling off toward the tundra above 11,000 feet.  Last Sunday was no exception.  The day was beautiful with thundershowers expected in the afternoon.  The beautiful lasted for the first hour of our patrol.  Soon the clouds closed in and rain started.  We stayed "up top" (11,500 - 12,300 feet) until 3:00 when the visibility lowered to about 20 feet.  At that point we moved down to a spot at about 10,800 feet to advise visitors that conditions further up were worse.  As we couldn't see the end of the parking area, that was enough to discourage most from going on.  Good decision.  We called out of service about an hour before our shift normally ends at 5:00 p.m.  We returned home (8,200 feet) to Windwalker and a calm evening with only a little rain.

On Monday afternoon, Lee and Mare returned from Minnesota and the last of the Katy and Philipp wedding celebrations.  Don and Elvon (with help from family) put on a party for 30 on Friday evening and a party for 65 or more on Saturday.  "Ugh!" said Lee and Mare, "we peeled 15 pound of potatoes for salad.  Elvon mixed all of it...how we don't know.  Don cooked more than 30 slabs of ribs and a zillion pounds of pulled pork!" By the end of the weekend the food was gone, the guests were winging their way home, and soon Lee and Mare were home tired but happy.

Tuesday there was a good deal of rain and clouds.  We were worried as Lee, Pam, and I had planned an ambitious hike for Wednesday in the Indian Peaks area.  As luck would have it, Wednesday morning dawned clear and cool.  We were off by 6:00 a.m. as it would take more than an hour to drive to the trailhead for Mt. Audubon (header picture is Pam and Lee on the summit).  There was a four mile tramp to the summit.  We were surprised that the first mile was gentle and wandered through pine trees and duff packed trail.  Soon enough though we were hiking through granite and rubble packed trail and came out beyond the krumholtz (trees dwarfed because of temperature and altitude).  Now we really began to work.  The trail book advised hikers to stick to the trail that winds through beautiful meadows marked by cairns (piles of rock).  The meadows were littered with wild flowers and the views as we slugged higher and higher were amazing.  The three of us were not so amazing.  We stopped often to breathe and rest.  The summit of Mt. Audubon, which seemed a reasonable goal at 6 a.m., looked almost out of reach.  The longer we hiked, the farther away it appeared.  People who were ahead of us looked like ants and never seemed to get bigger.  Finally however, three ants did get bigger, and just before we got to the final slog up a huge granite strewn shoulder of mountain, we caught up.  The ants turned out to be two 30 something guys, a small boy (son of one of the guys), and a black lab.  They were resting--sprawled out on the side of the trail, having a snack.  The dog was begging to be let off leash so he could chase marmots and pikas, and the little guy seemed to be happy as a clam.  No whinging.  No whining...just a big grin and happy to be on the trail.

We pushed on after a few minutes.  Halfway up the granite mass, we stopped to rest by a large cairn.  None of the three of us knew if we had enough energy left to push on, so we decided to have some water and eat our lunch.  After about 20 minutes, we decided to leave our packs where we were and climb on to the next cairn and see how we felt.  At the next cairn, we took a few minutes to catch our breath and decided to try going to the next cairn. We knew this was it.  None of us anticipated coming this way again.  When we reached that next pile of rocks, we met a woman and a dog coming down from the summit.  She told us the 360 degree view was worth any effort to summit.  "And," she said, "you're almost there."  That was enough to get us scrambling from boulder to boulder, stopping to breathe every few minutes.  There was no more talking.  No more discussion about whether to go on or not.  Every bit of energy went in to just getting there.  And then! We WERE there.  13,223 feet on the summit.  The views were breathtaking.  There were only two or three others on the summit and no wind.  How lucky can we be? Now we could talk.  "Wow!"  "Oh, look over there."  "That's the back of Long's Peak."  "And there, north and south Arapahoe..."  What an incredible place.  We took pictures, mugged, pointed out other places we'd hiked, sat down in one or two of the rock walled wind shelters that others had built for protection, and cheered when the two guys, the lab, and the little boy got to the summit.


Was he ever pleased.  It was his first 13,000 foot summit.  Pam asked him how old he was.  "I'm five," he said snuggling in to the boulders in one of the rock shelters.  "Not too many fives get up here.  You are pretty special," Pam told him.  Later on Lee asked him how old he was and he replied with a grin, "I'm FIVE!  Not too many fives get up this high."  We all laughed.  Clouds began to gather to the south and west...serious looking clouds.  So we decided it was time to go down.  Getting down was no easy feat either as it took a good deal of scrambling over big boulders--butt sliding, and watching for cairns so we didn't miss our packs.  Finally packs found and large boulders behind, we started the long walk back to the trailhead.  On the way down, there was time and breath to think about taking some pictures of the flowers.  There was time to think about the sound of walking on granite rubble strewn trails.  The sound is hollow...as if each crunching step almost echoes...as if the rocks were hollow.  None of which is the case.  The small rocks twist and turn as you step on them...and so too do your ankles and knees.  I marveled (as I do often) about how wonderfully the human body is constructed...how ankles act as gimbals so that the weight can be transferred from hip, through knee, onto foot without breaking something or falling over.  (Here I've looked up a meaning of gimbal... interesting:  A gimbal is a pivoted support that allows the rotation of an object about a single axis).  So, precisely what was happening with us over and over and over...four more miles.

We stopped in a beautiful meadow, and with not a good deal of grace, but sweet compliance, I asked Lee and Pam to dance so that I could get a "Sound of Music" like video.  The clouds pushed up toward us and down we went again.  Four miles are not a lot, but the end of a hard hike seems never ending.  Finally we were back at the parking lot.  Gratefully we shucked our packs into the back of the car, plopped down on the hot seats, and rolled for home.  Later, we were crushed to find this description of the Mt. Audubon hike:  Unlike some of its neighbors, Mount Audubon is a gentle mountain that is best characterized by broad ridges and large expanses of tundra. As such, it is a mountain best appreciated by those who favor a leisurely stroll among the wildflowers over a hard scramble among the talus.  Is it our age?  The day?  No matter.  We have summited Mt. Audubon!

The next day, Pam and I drove to Denver to help celebrate the birthday of our dear friend, Donna Brennan.  We had a wonderful lunch, great conversation, and as always...for Pam and me it is a bright day when we can see Donna.  As we drove back toward the mountains we got several texts telling us that there were flash flood warnings for Rocky and that it was pelting rain up there.  When we arrived home and turned on the 5 o'clock news, we learned that indeed there had been a flash flood in the burn area of Fern Lake.  Two riders on horseback had to take shelter behind a huge rock formation, and four of our hiking rangers and two law enforcement rangers (called L.E.'s) had to hike in, reroute hikers who were higher up on the trail, and rescue the riders and horses.  At the same time, a woman was struck by lightning on a trail off of the Alpine Visitor's Center (11,790 feet).  We have not learned about her condition.

And so it goes in the mountains.  Lucy got a new haircut on Saturday and she looks sweet and shiny black with very white, clydesdale feet!  We went over to Cheryl and Kay's to see Cheryl's nephew Rustin and his wife Jenn and their two kids Liam and Nealy.  So wonderful to be connected to three generations and more of our family and our friend's families. We played with the now moms and dads when they were but wee ones themselves.

If you have gotten this far in the blog, I thank you so much for sticking with me.  There are pictures of everything at this address:


http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/72157634732513037/


I've been playing with a new ap for my iPhone.  It's called Photosynth and it does amazing 360 panoramas.  You can find the four I took on Mt. Audubon here:  

http://photosynth.net/userprofilepage.aspx?user=windwalker1&content=Synths

Just an fyi...the pano's are best seen on an iPad.  If you have a Mac, you'll have to download and install microsoftsilver to have the pics be interactive.  Those of you with PC's should be fine.  

For this time being...we wish you a good week, love to make you happy, sunshine to warm you, and rain to grow your grass...so it goes.
Bonnie

What a week it has been.
Monday, July 1:  We are officially in the Colorado monsoon season.  Thunder storms roll in each afternoon accompanied by high winds, sheets of rain and often hail.  Our friend Marla’s daughter Laura, and her boyfriend Jarod are in Colorado.  They stayed with us Saturday evening and on Sunday, as we headed off for Tundra patrol, they moved into a camp site in the National Park.  On Monday morning we picked up Starbuck’s coffees for everyone, and met Laura and Jarod just as they were breaking camp.  They left their car at the trailhead where they would trek out from backpacking in three days, and we drove them up to Bear Lake.  Together we walked to the trailhead and watched them go off up toward Flat Top Mountain loaded with food, water, and excitement.  It was like watching our children go off to school alone for the first time, even though they are 20 somethings, very capable of taking care of themselves and each other.

Tuesday, July 2:  Back up to Bear Lake and headed for the summit of Flat Top ourselves.  This time in the company of Lee, her great nieces Becca and Katie, their husbands Tommy and Philipp, and Becca and Tommy’s (barely) three month old son, Fitz.  As hikes to Flat Top go it was a good one.  There was a great deal of heavy breathing (especially from Pam and me), beautiful scenery, picture taking, and a stop so that Becca could feed Fitz.  He was a dream, and made his first summit in fine fashion (a diaper change made it even better)!  Flat Top is 12354 ft / 3765 m.  We add the measure in meters because Philipp is Swiss and he had just come in two days earlier.  Good man!  The wind came up and the temperature dropped about 10 degrees while we were taking pictures and eating snacks on top, so we came down quickly...a stop to feed Fitz on halfway down and soon we were all safe and exhausted at home.

Wednesday, July 3:  Lee and Mare were hosting a grand wedding celebration for Katie and Philipp at their house on the 4th.  We spent this day finishing decorations, making sure all the food was ready, polishing Jeeps (the beginning of the party was a surprise parade, complete with tin cans on the Jeeps), and rounding up last minute flourishes.  Oh yes...napping, and thinking about tomorrow.  Just below us and across Little Valley Rd. lives a family of eight kids and two parents.  We have watched the family grow year by year, and marveled at their shrieks and yells as they played together during the summer months.  Several years ago I was pulled to our deck by the sound of trumpets and kazoos.  It was the Westley family, marching in single file--all dressed in red, 4th of July tshirts.  They piled into the family van and took off for Grand Lake where they love to spend the 4th to camp and watch the fireworks there.  On this day, several of the younger kids were playing in the yard. 

Thursday, July 4:  In the morning, we gathered at Lee and Mare’s to put up decorations, arrange deck furniture, move the beverages to coolers, and make sure all was taken care of.  Liz, Brandy’s partner assured us that Katie suspected something, but had no clue as to what we were doing.  Brandy brought the three layers of the wedding cake, and just before the “doings” started, decorated it beautifully with fresh flowers.  At 3 o’clock, the four Jeeps (Lee & Mare’s, Cheryl’s, Cody’s, ours) plus, Cad on her Vespa (parade marshall) assembled at the Ace Hardware to put decorations and cans on the vehicles.  At 4 o’clock we arrived at Brandy’s door and Lee went in to get Katie and Philipp.  SURPRISE!  I’ll let the pictures do the talking.  Suffice it to say that Philipp kept saying, “I feel so special...” and Katie added, “This is just like a real wedding party!”  Katie and Philipp were married last September 5th in Zurich.  Lee, Mare, Lee’s sister Elvon, Pam and I attended via Skype!

Friday, July 5:  Wearily, Pam, Lee and I rolled off to work at our volunteer job at Bear Lake in Rocky.  The shift was uneventful, but packed with hikers big and little bound for here, there, and everywhere.  We were all delightfully surprised when one of the visitor's, in line for the shuttle bus called out, "Bonnie?  Bonnie Beach?"  It was Donna Cox, wife of former New Trier West principal, Dave Cox.  Dave, of course, was there too and we had a fine reunion chat before they took the next bus down to town.  When we got off at 1 o’clock, all of us were hoping to get in a nap before Lee went to a family gathering at Brandy’s and Pam and I went off to a cook out at neighbor’s Kristi and Lyn.  As we drove toward town, there were dings and pings from all of our iPhones as we came back into cell range.  Lee listened to a phone message and then said, “Oh my god!  There was a huge accident in Grand Lake last night after the fireworks. The Westleys were crossing the street and they were hit by a guy driving a pick up.  They think alcohol was involved on the driver’s part.  Greg (the father) was killed instantly.  Debbie (the mom) and three of the kids were airlifted to Denver.”  We were stunned and drove home in silence as Lee called Mare and tried to get more information.  Lee is our home owner’s association President.  The Westleys are part of our community and association.

Partying was the last thing that any of us wanted to do that evening, but we were expected and we went.  Our party was at Lyn and Kristi’s...they too are neighbors of the Westley’s.  As it turned out, it was theraputic to talk with people who knew nothing of the accident, and with the few who did.  At one point, I mused to a friend, “How many times do I have to be reminded to treasure every minute, every hour of every day with Pam, our family and friends, in the world?”  Lyn looked at me and said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.  We are only human.  We get lost and caught up and forget.  Events overwhelm us.  The lessons are here to teach and remind us to spread love, to be gentle and kind with one another.”

Saturday, July 6:  The day of our home owner’s annual meeting.  We met Lee and Mare early and went down to the pavillion at Lake Estes where our annual meetings are held.  As people began to arrive, we were set up and ready.  The tone of the meeting was very subdued, as one might expect.  Lee  opened the meeting by asking one of our members who is a retired minister to lead a prayer.  She gave an update on the condition (as we knew it) of the surviving Westley family members, and then reported that a fund had been set up to help the family. After that, she progressed through the agenda in her usual efficient manner.  When the meeting was over, we cleaned up and went home.  That night was the final dinner with Lee’s family at Lee and Mare’s.  Don and Elvon (Lee’s brother in law and sister) and Katie and Philipp were leaving that evening to drive back to Minnesota where Don and Elvon would throw another two wedding receptions for Katie and Philipp:  one with family (25 people), and one with family and friends (60 people).

Saturday night:  I watch the house below us when darkness comes.  The older Westley boys come back from their hospital vigil.  Lights go on.  There is no laughter, no noise, no people moving about in front of the windows.  When I get up in the middle of the night, a few lights remain on.  By morning, the boys are gone again.  The family has always kept to themselves.  They are well known in their church.  Greg’s mom and dad are in town as is Debbie’s sister.  We know they are wrapped in care, and love, and concern--by people known and unknown to them...

Sunday, July 7:  We have collapsed.  The day is spent reading, writing some, finishing a DVD for Katie and Philipp...thinking about life and love, loss, new beginnings, love...and so I will close for now.  Send your prayers and hearts out to the Westley family...and remember to shower the people you love with love.  Every minute, every day is precious.  All we have is what is in the here and now.  Fill it with gentleness.  That's it for the time being.

Pictures for this week that was can be found at:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/