Have a Happy & Healthy New Year! - the Parklander

But we continue to push forward, through the ice and snow and the
incredibly slippery rock faces toward a summit we can’t even see. At this
elevation, which now exceeds 13,000 feet, we seem to be the only living
things, except for some tiny birds darting all around us, seemingly
oblivious to the frigid temperatures.
As we near the “false” summit, the snowflakes and fog intensify; at one
point visibility is so poor that I can barely see Jennifer ahead of me. I call
out to her at the top of my lungs, hoping my voice won’t get swept away by
the wind.
Finally, we reach the false summit. We look across the snowfield we had
been told about earlier, and we can see the real summit. And suddenly I
feel revitalized.
We skirt the snowfield, toward the summit that drifts in and out of view
in the fog and snow.
And then we’re there. At the top of the
world. We do a brief celebratory jig, and a
high-altitude high-five.
Before us stretches a magnificent alpine
valley, flowing off into a mountain range that
must be fifty miles away. To our left are the
nearby peaks of Mt. Lincoln and Mt. Bross,
both also 14’ers. To our right are snowfields
and craggy mountain faces turned black by
the cloud cover.
We each lean over to touch the wooden
marker at the highest point (taking the
obligatory photos, of course.)
Lower right: Early morning fog, Front Range.
Photo by Eric Wunrow, Colorado Tourism Office
the
PARKLANDER
Jennifer pulls out a large plastic bottle from the rocks, the one that had
been mentioned earlier by the climber we met. Inside it are a pen and a
pad, reserved for the signatures of those who have summited on Mount
Democrat, and preserved for eternity by the frigid air. I add my name.
We stay about twenty minutes, until the skies start growing black and
Jennifer says it would be wise to get off the summit.
Hours later, back at “base” at the edge of Silver Lake, I look back up at
the mountain. And suddenly I feel an incredible bond with this massive,
cold, inanimate piece of earth.
And I realize that my name will be up there, in that bottle, until the end
of time.
Steve Winston has written seven books and hundreds of articles.
E-mail him at winston@theparklander.com.
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