Crestones Story

As I previously wrote, Mark and Homie left the Willow Creek trailhead at 9:35 a.m. Saturday morning. The weather was great, the forecast was promising, and they were optimistic about getting this done in the daylight. Things went well up the steep, but easy slopes to the summit of Challenger. In going to Kit Carson, they decided against the direct approach up the face. This is one that I've done up/down and Homie was hoping to take it as well. Unfortunately it involves a tricky, burly start over an overhang and the face itself looks very intimidating, though it is only 4th class. They traversed right instead on the normal link-up, but Homie spotted a gully heading up and they took it, climbing a couple hundred feet of 4th class with maybe a touch of low 5th class climbing. 

They then descended to the Bear's Playground, climbed the northwest couloir on Crestone Peak and started the traverse over to the Needle. The traverse went well until just below the Needle at the base of the crux pitch. It was snowing and they decided to stay put for a bit, hoping that things would improve. They did not. At 6:45 p.m. Mark spoke up. They were getting cold, conditions were getting worse and they couldn't be benighted on the traverse. Mark pressed Homie to move, either forward or back. Saying this would be very difficult for Mark because if he pushed for a retreat, which you might do on a normal climb, it would be the same as killing the 14ers quest. I asked him about that and, while he thought about it, he didn't see it as killing the quest, since he felt confident he could retreat and find his way down to the Colony Lakes, allowing Homie to continue the quest. 

Pushed to make the call, Homie went up the Needle's crux pitch in very difficult conditions. Mark tried to follow and ran into severe difficulties when his hands went completely numb. Clinging to snow-covered holds with a 2000-foot drop down the Ellingwood Arete on his left and a death fall into the couloir below him, he couldn't move. Mark is a religious man. It's somewhat funny and much to Mark's credit that we are best friends. He's a devout Mormon and I'm an avowed atheist. Mark couldn't go down or up. Down was less enticing since it would put him back in the same situation they had just decided to leave. Homie was just above him, encouraging him. Mark prayed for salvation. Mark prayed to get out of this alive. His god answered with sunshine, figuring, rightly (he is god after all) that Mark is a man worth saving. The sun shone and Mark fought his way up the last ten feet of steep climbing. On the summit he broke down, bawling with the relief that he would survive to see his family again. 

Emotionally drained the pair descended to Broken Hand Pass where darkness and fatigue forced them to take a break. Mark texted me from there: "Resting and reflecting." At the time I knew nothing of the danger getting to the summit, but I did know that they had to wait out the weather. I wondered if they were thinking of giving up the quest and this was indeed accurate. Homie said, "I don't think I want to do Humboldt." With every neuron in his brain Mark craved going down and immediately heading out to the trailhead. He has just been through a traumatic experience, they had been on the move for 11 hours straight. He didn't want to do Humboldt. He hated the thought, but he responded, "I'm going to support you whatever you decide, but if you don't do Humboldt now, then what you are really saying is that you're not serious about completing the 14ers. It's not that late and we have good weather now." Homie responded, "Maybe I'm not that serious about completing it. Heck, tomorrow I could be in the exact same situation on the Little Bear - Blanca Traverse." Homie had never done that traverse and while it is well within his comfort range in good weather with some companions, doing it alone at this stage of the venture would be non-trivial. If dangerous weather hit him on it, with no way to escape, it could be yet another life-threatening situation. But that was just a possibility in the future. Mark knew that Homie was talking that way out of fatigue and the stress of the recent situation. He remained silent and they sat there in the dark while Homie searched his mind for the will, the motivation to continue. 

Eventually, Homie spoke. Mark prayed once again, this time for Homie to say, "I'll go do Humboldt. You head out and tell everyone the situation." But Homie did not say this. He said, "If I go do Humboldt, will you come with me?" Mark knew that the answer to this question would define him as a man, as a friend. With the great dark bulk of Humboldt looming overhead like the gates of Mordor, he bit his tongue and said, "Absolutely!" They headed off and Mark texted me: "Heading to Humboldt. Nice night for a walk." The 14er quest continued because of Mark's friendship to Homie. It could have easily ended on the Needle. It could have ended in unspeakable tragedy and it could have ended in misery and despair. But it did not.

Mark texted me that he thought they'd make the trail by midnight or so. I knew that was unrealistically early, but with what those two were going through up on that mountain, there was no way in hell I wasn't going to have the vehicle there waiting for them. Gerry figured he'd have to drive the FJ up to get them because the FJ is a manual transmission, but I wouldn't allow someone else going to get them. I needed to see my pacing leg through just as badly as Mark needed to get Homie up Humboldt. I had driven the FJ down the 4WD section of the approach to Willow Creek. In 4-wheel-low these vehicles are basically automatics anyway. I convinced Gerry that he should get his sleep since he'd have to immediately do the long drive to Culebra through the night. At 11:30 p.m. I started the FJ and headed up. The road wasn't difficult at all, though rough and bouncy and I made the locked gate marking the trailhead start by 11:50 p.m. I settled in to wait, setting my alarm for 12:30 a.m. When it went off, I was still alone and set the alarm for 1 a.m. Again, nobody. I asked myself why was I continually waking myself up and resetting the alarm? What good did that do? I was in my Crocs instead of hiking shoes, but even if I had my shoes, what help could I be walking up the trail in the dark with just one good arm? I guess I just wanted to continually remind myself of my friends... I made a slight concession and set my alarm for 1:45 a.m. this time.

At 1:04 a.m. not deep in sleep, I heard something and opened my eyes. I saw headlamps. They were down. Homie had done great going up/down Humboldt, but got so sleepy on the hike out that he lay down on the trail, asking Mark for 5 minutes of sleep. Mark roused him in 3 minutes, knowing that he had to get Homie to a bed. That way they could move towards the next peak. That way he could truly rest. Five minutes up here wouldn't really help. Homie got to his feet and obeyed. At the FJ Homie finally appeared tired. Each time I had met him before, no matter what he had been through, he was completely alert, almost cheery, and looked fresher than an average hiker. This time he was asleep on his feet, not very responsive. I got into the back while Mark took the wheel and Homie slumped against a pillow. He was unable to sleep, though, as the drive out is like being in a chaotic blender.

Back at the lower parking lot, where Jennifer and Gerry were staged, Homie immediately climbed into this bed in the back of the Land Cruiser. Once again the specially ordered meal went  uneaten, though Mark had a few slices. Four hours later, at the gates to Culebra, Homie would devour quite a bit of pizza and a breakfast burrito so it was consumed and appreciated, but at this moment sleep was the higher priority. Before he went to bed I gave him a hug, told him I loved him, and said I'd be watching and pulling for him and that I'd be back. Mark and I got in the FJ with Mark at the wheel. He was wasted as well and needed me to drive, but wanted to do the shifting-intensive driving. After an hour we found a gas station with an open convenience store. I got a coffee here and took over the driving while Mark slept. Before he conked out, we worked like synchronized swimmers with me steering and handling the clutch while he worked the gear shift. We got home at 5 a.m. about the same time Gerry, Jennifer and Homie were pulling up to the gate at Culebra. The difference was that Mark and I were going to bed; Homie was getting up and climbing a 14er...