The wildflowers are in full bloom, the mountains are entirely free of blankets of snow, and the days are hot and endless—it’s mountain climbing and wildfire season in Colorado.
My three roommates and I are working in Boulder and trying to find our post-graduation paths through the craziness of COVID-19. Adding another element to the chaos that has been 2020 so far, the wildfire smoke and air pollution along the Front Range has been shocking. In an effort to escape it all, we decided to drive a few hours south to Colorado’s San Juans this past weekend for a few adventures.
We arrived at our first trailhead late Friday night, and woke up at 5:30am Saturday morning to begin our ascent up to San Luis Peak, which stands at 14,014 feet. The trail was nothing too exciting, it was Class 1 and about 3,400 feet of elevation gain over 11 miles. An easy day in the mountains. I was grateful since I hadn’t been above 8,000 feet since early July. I was desperately out of shape.
We summited around 10:30am. Wildfire smoke hazed out our view, we could barely see the mountains neighboring our own. On our way back to the car, we discussed how shocked we were that the smoke from Colorado’s wildfires was still visible this far south in the state. It hadn’t really rained anywhere in over a month.
How did this happen? How did our state burst into flames so quickly? We had a decent winter; our snowpack was recorded to be over 100% of average. The answer is both fairly simple and incredibly complicated.
Climate change—the number of hot, dry summer days in Colorado has increased nearly every year in the last decade. These hot days start earlier too, in May, instead of late July and early August. The snowpack melts off and the landscape soaks it up earlier in the spring, leaving the summer to be brutally hot and brutally dry. Climate change also changes the normal weather patterns, altering the monsoon cycles and leaving us without a regular afternoon thunderstorm. Things are looking pretty bad here in Colorado, and many scientists think the impacts of climate change are just getting started.
We woke up even earlier Sunday morning after a long evening of trying to get our Subaru Outback up a gnarly four-wheel drive road. Wetterhorn peak was on the agenda for the day, which featured nearly a mile of Class 3 scrambling, 3,300 feet of gain, and seven miles, all for a summit at 14,015 feet. We began our trek in the dark and made it to treeline by sunrise. We turned right at a trail junction and found ourselves in a wide open basin, filled with lateral moraines from ancient glaciers. We climbed higher and higher, over boulder fields, until eventually reaching the saddle, where we turned right to follow the Class 3 ridge up to the summit.
We stopped to collapse our trekking poles and switch out our hats for climbing helmets. The ridge honestly wasn’t anything too crazy. I find that photos of Class 3 pitches (and higher) usually look worse than they actually are. But it’s still worth being overly cautious, you could easily take a deadly fall.
After about an hour of scrambling, we summited Wetterhorn and were greeted on the wide summit by other climbers. Smiles were all around, it was a beautiful day in the mountains, even though they were mostly obscured by smoke.
As we continue into the dog days of summer, it will likely remain hot and dry. Fires will burn, maybe even into October until the first snow falls, and the air quality throughout the state will remain arguably dangerous. What can we do?
Environmental problems related to climate change often seem out of reach of the ordinary American citizen—they’re too big, with too many stakeholders involved, and solutions cost way too much money. However, there is one thing we can all do: vote. Vote for those who are advocating for climate solutions, for renewable energy, for the protection of our public lands, for the sustainable use of our natural resources. Voting for delegates who are willing to stand up against climate change caused by human activity is the easiest and most important way we can work to protect Colorado’s forests, summers, and landscapes.
My roommates and I agree with this sentiment, and that the climate change clock is ticking—we must act now to preserve the landscapes that we so dearly love. By voting and taking action against climate change, we can work to prevent massive forest fires, improve our air quality, and make 14er summits more enjoyable for everyone.