On Sunday July 25^th I went for a day hike to James Peak, which sits right on the North American Continental Divide. I left home at 4:40am, and meet at Kirt and Lorri Schumann’s place in Nederland at 5:30am. Always thought that there was only one 5:30 in a day and that was just before tea. It took us just over an hour to get to the car park, where we watched a herd of about 40 Elk and a few Deer start to move into the trees once they noticed us. The early start seems to be mandatory when hiking in the mountains. The summer months are always accompanied by afternoon thunder storms. Not something you want to be in on an open mountain. In fact a guy from New York was killed last week by lightning and all his family hospitalised while they were out in the mountains not very far from where we live.

We left the car and the tree line just on 7:00 am and where immediately hit by almost cyclone type winds. The steepness of the climb together with the head on winds just about made walking impossible. If fact once I cleared the first knoll, after about half an hour, I was actually blown over by the ferocity of the wind. I wasn’t having much fun yet! We pushed on across the tundra for another half hour before we sort some shelter behind a rock outcrop, and had our first decent break around 11,000 feet. The colour of the mountains was enchanting, with red, blue, yellow, and pink wildflowers on the vibrant green of the meadow grasses.

We now got a break, not from the wind, but a bit of a down hill incline to the base of the summit. After the first hour of constantly climbing upwards it was a great respite. But now the altitude and the wind were combining to make the temperature unpleasant. The sky was overcast, the summit was covered in cloud, and it was COLD. While still in shorts the walking kept your legs warm, but everything else needed protection. With three layers on, I thought about a fourth, and last, but then thought I might need that to get warmer as we got to the top. Gloves went on instead. Lorri opted for some long trousers, and Kirt went for his sherper hat because the wind was giving him ear aches.

We pressed on and once in the shadow of the summit the wind died down a bit. Not a lot, but enough to allow conversation without having to yell. But this also meant that we had to start climbing upwards again. We were now around 12,000 feet, and I could start to feel it. Try putting masking tape over your nose and mouth, pocking a straw through the tape to breath through, and going for a run with a fully laden back pack. I know that this is something that Des Cannon would do, but not any other sane person. This is what lack of oxygen at altitude feels like. Not to mention the slow constant throb in the temples, and the burning sensation in your muscles. Did I mention if I was having fun yet.

Now even though we are in the middle of summer, and it is constantly reaching 100F on the prairie, there are still quite a lot of snow fields and ice flows in sheltered areas on the mountains. We had to cross one. This is something that I have never had to do before when hiking. Fortunately we only had to cross about 80 meters, but try going ice skating without ice skates.

Again finding a rock outcrop for some shelter we stopped for our second decent break, now 2 hours from the car and at an altitude of around 12,500 feet. The view was breath taking. Just at our feet was an almost vertical drop of 1,000 feet to a series of mountain lakes feeding from one to the other. The top of this U shaped rocky canyon was about the same altitude as we were and the clouds were flowing down though it just like dry ice. Sitting there watching clouds swirl around your feet is certainly a unique experience. Not long after sitting down though I could feel the sweat on my back starting to freeze, this was not good, but there wasn’t a lot I could do about it.

Having rested and eaten some performance enhancing carbohydrate supplying food bars that smelt, felt, and tasted like cardboard we tackled the summit. Extremely steep, and scrambling over boulders for most of the way it felt like I had to rest after every ten steeps or so. The good news though was that the wind had fizzled out to gently breeze. We continued on for an hour with heads down and concentrating on methodically putting one foot after the other. Something I once thought was unconsciously and instinctively performed.

We reached the summit at 13,294 feet three hours after leaving the car. It was well worth it, and now I was having fun. The view was nothing short of spectacular. The clouds had lifted, and we could see the ragged peaks of the North American Continental Divide from horizon to horizon some below us, and some above us. Dams and buildings glittered in the sunlight on the prairie 8,000 feet below us to the east. The Rocky Mountains rolled out to the west. Across the next valley and below us were the Mary Jane and Winter Park ski resorts. Feeling like you’re on top of the world, what must Everest be like?

We rested here a while within a circle of rocks that somebody had built up into a shelter much like an igloo without the final roof. We signed the visitors book supplied by the Colorado Hiking Club, and congratulated each other on our sterling effort. Lorri was extremely lucky to find half a grub in the apple she was eating, and Kirt had numerous attempts at trying to take a group photo with a self timer that wouldn’t cooperate. I’m sure the photos of his back will bring back a flood of memories.

Feeling invigorated by our achievement, and our rest, we headed down the summit at a run. This did not last too long, but was a sign to start removing some layers of clothing. Jackets and gloves came off. Coming down we were able to take a more direct path, although it meant crossing three ice flows. With the aid of gravity, we sort of skated down the ice. It wasn’t a very pretty picture trying to maintain your balance with arms swinging every which way, but it was fun.

Half way back across the tundra, a group of four wheel drives passed us just by the sign that read "NO MOTORIZED VEHICLES". We weren’t sure if they could read, of if they just didn’t have engines. Either way, we just waved and kept going. Kirt has a GPS and was able to tell us how far we were from the car, and how long it would take us to get there. Extremely useful I thought, and I’ll be getting one before we head home, but we had to point out to Kirt that when you can actually see the car yourself there is not much point in trying to navigate with the GPS.

We made it back to the car in two hours from the summit. A little tired and sore, would you believe that I twisted my knee just before we reached the car, and then Kirt and Lorri tell me that this was an easy walk.