In the last several years, I have spent a lot of time in the wilderness. From backpacking trips, to 21-day river trips, to scrambling up 14,000-foot peaks, I would call myself a fairly experienced outdoors-person. Almost two years ago, I recognized that my friends and I occasionally end up in dangerous situations and became a certified Wilderness First Responder. I would say that my decision-making, medical, and navigation skills are above average, and those of my adventure buddies are as well. All of this aside, I never feared for my life before yesterday.
Two friends, Evan and Jason, and I decided to summit Mt. Meeker (13,911 feet) via the Loft Couloir. The route consisted of a four-mile approach to Chasm Lake (nearly 11 miles total roundtrip), a long section of Class 2-3 scrambling up the couloir, a sketchy summit, and almost 5000 feet of elevation gain. We were stoked for a challenge and to be avoiding the crowds on Longs Peak, and NOAA’s weather forecast looked nearly perfect. We decided to leave Boulder around 6am and arrive at the trailhead by 7. We were fast hikers, and we weren’t concerned about Colorado’s infamous afternoon summer thunderstorms since the forecast looked so great. This was our mistake.
At 7am we left the Longs Peak trailhead as planned and reached Chasm Lake by 9. This part of Rocky Mountain National Park, and the greater Rocky Mountains, is one of my favorites. Longs Peak itself is epic. With unique views of the peak from every angle, meadows of Columbine flowers, waterfalls, and crystal-clear lakes, it is simply an alpine paradise. We turned left and began hiking past Longs’ Ships Prow, a famous triangular butte of granite and schist, and up the Loft Couloir that splits Longs Peak from Meeker. This section was filled with loose rock, but wasn’t very exposed, so we cruised up it. We noticed a few climbers on an exposed buttress on the North face of Meeker and all three of us acknowledged their level of badass. About two-thirds of the way up, the hiking switched to Class 3 scrambling. The rock was solid and the path was obvious. We were safe.
Near the top of the Couloir on a long section of scrambling, we came across a hiker wearing all black clothing, steel-toed boots, and was carrying a gallon jug of water in one hand as he tried to move up a slab of slippery granite with limited holds. Jason talked him through his sketchy climb and he reached safety easily. He followed us up to the top of the Couloir and into to the Loft itself and we continued chatting with him. He was planning to summit Longs, and it became immediately obvious to us that he had no idea of the complications of the Loft Route to the summit. He wanted to avoid the crowds along the Keyhole route, which was fair, but didn’t do his research of the more difficult route that he chose. Jason, who had completed it last summer, explained the technicalities of the route beyond where we were standing. He didn’t seemed too thrilled, and even mentioned to me that he didn’t know everything that he brought with him in his pack.
We wished him luck and continued along our route to the East up Meeker and watched him wander along the Loft towards Longs. We last saw him standing near the edge of the Couloir, checking out the view.
At 11:15am the three of us summited Meeker and were in awe by its narrow summit of solid rock. We could barely see the knife-edge along the Eastern ridge, which we had been contemplating crossing the day before. We decided against it; it was a little too windy. By 1:00pm we were back at Chasm Lake, where there were still many hikers enjoying the views, and by 1:30 we reached the Chasm Lake/Keyhole Route trail junction. We passed a few people heading up and said hello to the hikers relaxing at the junction. We were feeling great.
The sky started turning dark over Longs as we began our 1.5 mile descent through the open basin to treeline. Aware of the increasingly-possible storm heading towards us, we began to hustle down the trail. Not five minutes later, I was sprinting down the mountain behind Jason and Evan. It was hailing. There were flashes of lighting every few seconds— totally surrounding us. The storm was right on top of us, and we were completely exposed. Aside from the peaks behind us, occasional cairns, and trees hundreds of feet below us, we were absolutely the tallest objects in a wide-open area. Mother Nature was attacking us from every angle and we were completely helpless.
I’ve never been a runner, and I honestly did not believe I was capable of trail-running before yesterday. It’s amazing what adrenaline can do for you. I’m also a frequent ankle-sprainer, so as I ran down that mountain towards safety, I was laser focused on every foot placement—that is, until a giant bolt of lighting struck several hundred yards away from me and responded with dozens of curse words from pure fear.
Minutes later, the three of us made it to treeline. Evan sprained an ankle pretty badly, we were all shaken, but we were safe. Adrenaline was still pumping through me, I couldn’t stop talking about what we had just witnessed, and we eventually stopped to wrap Evan’s ankle. As we debriefed ourselves, we realized the number of people we passed as we ran for our lives, and the dozens of people still at the junction, still at the Lake, and surely still on the summit of Longs. Did they survive those 10 minutes of hell? What about the inexperienced hiker we met in the Couloir? What about the climbers we watched with awe on that epic buttress? They were surely still up there.
As we continued walking through the trees to the trailhead, the Sun finally poked out and the sky cleared. Of course, as soon as we were well in the safety of the trees. The storm left as quickly as it had arrived. We made it back to the car around 3pm and back to Boulder by 4. A long day to say the least and the three of us definitely learned a few lessons.
Mother Nature doesn’t mess around. She simply doesn’t care what your experience level is, how skilled you are, or if you’re “medically certified”. The wilderness is a dangerous place and good decision making is at the root of your safety on adventures. Based on a weather report from a reliable source, we decided to leave late, extremely late, for a long day in the mountains. When people say the weather in the mountains can change from perfect to absolute hell in a matter of minutes… they’re not kidding. We may have been fast and experienced hikers, we may have decided against crossing the knife-edge and made countless other good decisions, but a little bit of bad luck combined with one bad decision resulted in us running for our lives.
This isn’t anything new to the three of us. We know the wilderness is dangerous, we know Mother Nature is unforgiving. But as we drove home yesterday we all became grateful for this reminder. Never completely trust the weather report, start early, summit by 10am, return treeline by 12pm, and always, make good decisions.