Another spur of the moment adventure for the kid and I.  When the windows of opportunity open up, we have been jumping through them with boots on and packs loaded.

This time it was a late Thursday departure to take advantage of the final day of vacation.  We spent most of Thursday cleaning house and garage, then threw our supplies in the car and bolted for the hills.  Destination, Quandary Peak.

Despite this being one of the more accessible 14ers, I hadn’t been up it yet.  Malcolm had summited the previous month and we agreed that it would be a good candidate for a night outing with a very straightforward approach and no real difficulties to deal with other than the usual incline and altitude components.

We got started a little after 7:00 and took our time, getting to the summit a just after dark, then making it back to the car at half-past midnight.  I hauled the camera along and was glad I did.  We ran into a large herd of goats about halfway up, and having the place entirely to ourselves, spent quite a while  observing them and taking pictures.  They put on quite a show.

We hung out on the summit for a good 30 minutes or so.  The weather was nice, but I got pretty cold up there and was glad to start hiking again to build up some heat so I could stop shivering.

Our plan to raid Taco Bell on the way through Frisco proved misguided as they were closed.  4th meal, whatever.  Instead we scavenged what we could at 7-11 and got back on the road to Leadville, finally dumping our bags on the ground a little after 2AM (right on the LT100 course no less).  It was a stellar night for sleeping out and I actually caught a Z or two unlike our last trip.  I told Malcolm that if asked, we weren’t camping, we were taking a nap.

The eyes cracked open just after 05:00 in time to take in a sweet, but very rapid explosion of pink over the mountains.

We stumbled around for a bit and then hopped in the car for the short drive up to the Mount Massive trailhead.  Our legs appreciated the gradual approach along the Colorado Trail for the first few miles before the real work began.

After some time, we finally broke free of the forest and could see our objective.  This is a big mountain!

We didn’t push too hard, taking time to check out marmots, moths, and butterflies.

The view from the summit was impressive, with row after row of mountains marching off into the distance.  We nicknamed this the mountain hatchery.  It looked like some sort of giant peak nursery.

The trip down was long, but uneventful.  We were both feeling the miles and lack of sleep, but happy to be up in the mountains for the day.  We spotted a cool cloud that was giving off a rainbow reflection and it was a great ending to a great trip.

Last night I spent some time at the memorial for the shooting victims in Aurora, CO. It was in the corner of a vacant lot across from the Century 16 theater. The ground was dry and barren, except for the oasis of flowers, balloons, flags, and candles.

I experienced somewhat of a split personality feeling as part of me was drawn to the photographic oppportunites, and took in the lighting and composition of what was going on. At other times, the camera was shut off and hanging reverently at my side as I observed others and reflected on my own feelings about what had happened.

A tall wooden cross stood prominently on the street corner lit by candles and flashlights at its base. People seemed drawn there and would place their hands on it together while they bowed their heads in silent thought or prayer. Out of the darkness, a voice slowly rose above the cacophony of nearby traffic mixed with the news station generators, repeating short phrases of faith to a simple tune. Soon others joined, and the resulting chorus of strangers singing an impromptu hymn on the corner of a busy city street was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. The voice of the girl in the photo carried slightly above the rest in a hauntingly angelic way, and was a powerful demonstration of singing talent backed by deep emotion.

It was a moving experience, and one that I was glad to share with those strangers brought together by a terrible event.

Soon after the hike with Malcolm on Monday night, I started hatching a plan for the weekend. Our 20th wedding anniversary was coming up, and my wife had never hiked a 14er before. Now that I had been up the standard Bierstadt route, I knew it was something she could handle and I put the plan in motion.

I packed a little surprise for the summit…

We took off early Friday afternoon and headed to Idaho Springs, stopping to check out the Mother Cabrini Shrine on the way. Hadn’t ever been there despite driving past it a million times.

Then we wandered around town and spotted some locals.

At the city museum, I was shaking my head at the sight of the camera I used in high school being displayed behind glass. Kinda makes you feel a little bit old.

I’m a Nikon guy now, anyway.

We were up at 05:00 to get an early start on the mountain. That ended up being a very good move.

Right off the bat she spotted 3 moose having breakfast near the trail. I would have cruised right past them.

It was a great morning. I feared we would be freezing to death so early at such high altitude, but it was actually pleasant. Much warmer than Monday’s hike.

I knew this route would be a popular choice for the day, and soon there was a long line of people stretched out behind us.

As we were nearing the summit, I spotted this cool cloud arch. It only lasted about 45 seconds before it changed shape and was gone.

We made it to the top!

Wave at the people over on Grays Peak (8.5 miles distant).

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a butterfly (or more likely a moth?) over 14,000′ before.  [Edit: Milbert’s Tortoiseshell  – thanks to Meghan for the ID]

We lingered for about 45 minutes and then got ready to head back down. A quick check of the skies brought some bad news.  Weather was moving in.  Fast!

I wouldn’t say it was a panic situation by any stretch, but the tension was palpable as people started scrambling down off the peak.

Lightning was spotted and soon thunder started rumbling through the thin air, adding to the urgency of situation.

We were still passing plenty of people on their way up, though.  We got about halfway down and the wind started blowing hard, and graupel stung our faces.

We finally made it to the car.  Approximately one second after I shut the door, the skies completely unloaded.

Good timing.

We had a great hike together.  It was a special way to celebrate a special day.  I was mighty proud of my wife for doing so well on the mountain.  I can’t wait to do it again.