Rocky Mountain National Park

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Rocky Mountain National Park Page 6

by Mike Graf


  Dad wobbled, then tried to steady himself. It felt as if all the blood in his body was being pumped through his head. He started to topple and leaned forward, somehow managing to get his arm out and stop himself from collapsing onto the rocks.

  Dad slowly lowered himself back to a seated position. He sat on a rock and tilted his head down until it was between his knees.

  Dad stayed in that exact position and waited. Meanwhile, several more climbers hiked past.

  19

  7:40 AM

  After a few more minutes, Dad slowly lifted his head, hoping the dizziness had subsided. He sat up and watched another group of climbers scuttle by.

  Dad stood up and steadied himself against a rock. So far, so good, he thought, trying to reassure himself.

  Dad plodded along for several steps, making certain as he went that his footing was secure. Soon he made it past the Keyhole and onto the next section of trail. From there, a series of reddish yellow circles painted on the rocks stretched out into the distance.

  Dad traversed carefully toward the first circle. Slowly he gained some confidence. A couple of climbers came up behind him. He sensed their presence and paused, letting the faster-paced hikers go by. Quickly they came to a couple of boulders with metal rods sticking out of them. Each grabbed onto the bars and hoisted himself over the obstacle.

  Dad maneuvered to the same place. He lifted himself into the slot between the boulders and lowered himself slowly down the other side.

  Dad gazed ahead. The colored markers continued across steep, angled rock precipices. Below the makeshift pathway, the mountainside dropped dramatically to the lakes and forest far below. Dad gazed at the whole area, realizing that if he fell, it would be a long tumble over solid stone. He recalled reading about injuries people sustained while climbing Longs Peak. The Trough and the Keyhole were accident-prone locations. Dad looked ahead. That must be the Trough coming up, he thought.

  Dad remembered reading that hypothermia, lightning, falls, and disorientation were some of the issues people had faced on Longs Peak. He shook his head and tried to block out the negativity. Dad then noticed climbers hauling themselves farther up the steep mountain. He gingerly shuffled forward, trying to wedge his feet into a small notch in the rock.

  But Dad’s tentative footing gave out. He slipped onto his knees while managing to grab the rock and hang on.

  A solo climber scrambled over to Dad. He put his hand out and helped hoist him back to his feet. “Are you okay?” the mountaineer asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. Just being too timid with my steps,” Dad replied.

  The man waited a moment. “You can go on,” Dad said. “Don’t stay here for me. I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

  Feeling light-headed again, and with his pulse racing, Dad returned to the boulder with the metal rods. He crawled back over and retreated to the Keyhole before sitting down again.

  There Dad tried to relax his breathing, and after a while he checked the sky. Clouds were just starting to build up. “That’s no surprise,” Dad said out loud. Then he checked his watch: 9:55 AM. Wow, he realized. I better think this over.

  A while later, Dad again stood to head for the summit. “I’m just going to go for it,” he tried convincing himself. Dad followed the markers back to the spot with the metal rods and slowly pulled himself up.

  Two people were coming back the other way. It was the couple who had spoken to Dad at sunrise. Dad recognized them. “Did you make it to the top?” he asked.

  “Not quite,” the woman answered. “Once you see clouds like these,” she pointed to the sky, “chances are likely there will be thunderstorms by noon, or possibly sooner. And being anywhere up here above tree line is not the place to be during a storm,” she finished.

  “Got it,” Dad said. He let the two people scramble past, took one more look toward the summit, and turned around to begin the trek back.

  20

  8:15 AM

  After sleeping in a bit longer, Morgan, James, and Mom got up to start their hike. They walked from the campsite at Glacier Basin to the Park & Ride bus area.

  As they approached the large parking lot, Mom looked up at the sky. “Mostly clear now,” she reported.

  A few minutes later, a bus arrived. Mom and the twins stepped onto the crowded shuttle and were hauled four miles up, to the Bear Lake area.

  The Parkers hopped off the bus at the end of the road. They filled up their water bottles at the drinking fountain and immediately hit the trail at Bear Lake. Many other visitors were also strolling along the picturesque nature path. A short distance later, another path appeared.

  “Here’s our trail!” James exclaimed.

  They took the side path and started along the Fern Lake Trail.

  Wearing day packs instead of full-on backpacks, and somewhat acclimated to the elevation, the three Parkers cruised briskly along, soon passing through a grove of aspen thriving in a boulder-strewn area.

  “The Rockies are so beautiful,” Mom commented while looking at the white-barked trees.

  “Look, you can see how the aspen are all growing in one area,” Morgan added, “because of their roots.”

  As the trail gently climbed, Morgan, James, and Mom hiked over remnant patches of snow and past wildflower-filled meadows.

  Eventually the trail entered an area of fewer trees. “I think that’s Flattop Mountain up there to the left,” James pointed out.

  • • •

  It was approaching 11 AM as Dad worked his way down from the Boulderfield. He continued watching the clouds build up in the sky. Dad also kept glancing at Longs Peak, looming to his right. “One day,” he announced to the mountain. “One day!”

  Still feeling light-headed and weak, Dad slowly scrambled down a series of large boulders. He stood on the top of one and paused. Far below, Dad noticed the couple who had passed him earlier. He also now saw, for the first time, several stone circles—backcountry campsites he’d missed in the darkness on his way up.

  Dad lunged forward to the next boulder. His foot landed awkwardly and twisted to the side. Then the rock wobbled. Dad teetered back and forth before putting out his hands to brace himself for a short fall.

  Just then, Dad’s foot slipped farther, wedging between two rocks. He felt his ankle tense. “Ahh!” he cried out, wincing in pain.

  He keeled over and closed his eyes, holding in a scream. Then Dad slowly sat down and pulled his foot out before gingerly working his shoe off. He grabbed the Ace bandage out of his pack and carefully wrapped his reinjured foot.

  Once finished, Dad stood up and tested his foot by carefully putting his full weight on it. His ankle felt sore, but it stayed supported. Dad quickly laced up his hiking boot, then crept down the mountain, even more slowly than before.

  Several steps later, Dad’s ankle again twinged in pain, but the support wrap stopped it from flipping over.

  Dad hiked down carefully. Going uphill is easier, he concluded, as far as my foot is concerned.

  As Dad continued, he suddenly remembered his collapsible walking stick. He paused and wondered if it would help him maneuver around these large rocks. Then Dad checked the sky again. A storm seemed imminent. A metal stick could soon become a lightning rod, Dad realized, deciding to leave it in the pack.

  Soon the boulders Dad traversed became smaller. He walked past the first of several stone circles. Each enclosed a large enough space for a tent, the rocks piled into walls a few feet high.

  All of a sudden, a few white balls of ice began plunking down. Hail. Dad glanced up to see its source: a big dark cloud overhead. “Oh, no,” Dad mumbled. Then he scanned the direction of the trail down the mountain. I have a long way to go before I drop below tree line, he realized.

  • • •

  At the trail’s summit, the three Parkers took a small side path to a rocky outcrop. They sat down and gazed at the unobstructed views of massive peaks, snowfields, and waterfalls, with Odessa Lake far below.

  Mo
m pulled off her day pack, unpacked some energy bars and fruit, and they picnicked with the high mountain scenery sprawled out in front of them.

  A dark cloud obscuring the sun put an abrupt end to their leisurely lunch. “We should head down into the forest and get away from this open area,” Mom warned, concerned about lightning.

  Morgan, James, and Mom quickly packed up, hurried back to the main trail, and began their descent toward Odessa and Fern lakes.

  • • •

  Dad moved faster on flatter ground, but he was favoring his injured foot. Meanwhile, the hail intensified, bouncing with force against the trail and rocks.

  Suddenly Dad heard a distinct humming sound. His hair rose from his scalp, standing on end. Dad took a second to gauge his surroundings. Then he dove into the nearest backcountry campsite and covered his head.

  • • •

  Morgan, James, and Mom hiked briskly downhill. They passed a small boulder field and quickly entered the forest surrounding Odessa Lake. Mom and the twins walked past the lake as scattered drops of rain plopped onto the surface. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Mom checked the sky and saw more dark clouds rolling in.

  “Where do you think Dad is now?” James asked, worried.

  Mom glanced at her watch. “It’s just before noon. Knowing how careful Dad is and how much he checks the weather, I’m sure he’s far below the peak by now.”

  The rain began to intensify. Mom hastily pulled out ponchos. They each put one on and continued hiking. Soon they were hurrying along in a steady rainstorm pierced by regular claps of thunder. The trail was becoming soaked.

  A short time later, Morgan, James, and Mom arrived at Fern Lake. A side trail led to backcountry campsites and a ranger cabin.

  Mom took the twins in that direction. The wooden ranger cabin was perched above the northern end of the lake. The three Parkers hustled onto the deck of the cabin.

  Lightning flashed outside followed by instant, deafening thunder. Rain mixed with hail started pounding down.

  Mom looked out at the storm while she, James, and Morgan scrunched up against the cabin wall. “We might as well pull up a seat,” she said. “It looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

  They sat on the floor of the deck and watched the rain drench the wilderness.

  21

  11:35 AM

  While hail pounded down all around him, Dad closed his eyes and remained pressed up against the rock wall. He could see lightning flash through his eyelids, followed by booming rounds of thunder.

  After a while, Dad peeked out to check the conditions. The precipitation was now a rain and hail mixture. The ice was starting to accumulate.

  Dad realized he wasn’t going to be able to stay in this spot for long. He recalled that tree line was at least several miles below. This is not good! he thought.

  Dad hurriedly pulled a poncho out of his pack. He slipped it on and then moved his injured foot around. It felt tight and sore when he flexed it, but also somewhat stable. It’s only going to get worse the longer I sit here, Dad realized.

  Finally the onslaught of precipitation eased a bit and the thunder became softer and less frequent.

  Dad stood halfway up. The trail was soaked, but at least he could make it out by hiking around the slushy puddles. Dad glanced at the sky directly above him. Dark gray clouds hovered overhead, and they appeared to be moving briskly along. He wondered if the worst of the storm was coming or going.

  The storm let up a bit more. Now only scattered pieces of hail came down, bouncing off the rocks.

  • • •

  Morgan, James, and Mom remained on the deck of the cabin, watching the storm. Lightning continued to flash intermittently, and thunder rolled across the mountains. The three Parkers stayed bundled up while nibbling on snacks.

  “I wonder how Dad is doing,” Morgan mused.

  Mom glanced at her watch. “Maybe he’s taking a break, like we are. It’s around lunchtime. He should be down from the summit.”

  For a while, Morgan, James, and Mom stopped talking about Dad. But they still worried about him. They had seen storms bombarding the prominent peak all week. The family sat and stared, hoping for the weather to change.

  • • •

  For a brief moment, Dad felt safer and thought the worst had passed. He stood all the way up and inspected the sky. Then he glanced toward Longs Peak, but it was totally obscured. Finally he looked at the Keyhole.

  Three tiny figures were standing in the formation, silhouetted by gray clouds.

  Dad felt something funny in the air again. He instinctively began to cringe as a long bolt of lightning lit up the sky and illuminated the Keyhole.

  Dad immediately ducked back down into a fetal position. Thunder shook the whole region. It sounded like a gigantic monster tossing boulders.

  In the midst of the turmoil, Dad thought he heard someone scream. He peeked out, glancing toward the Keyhole, but this time he didn’t see anyone.

  Then Dad studied the clouds. The darkest ones appeared to be moving away from his location.

  Dad stood up again, looking toward the Keyhole. He cupped his hands and shouted, “Is everyone all right up there?”

  He stood still and listened, but there was no answer.

  “Is everyone okay?” he called out again.

  The only sounds he heard were the wind and rain.

  Dad thought quickly: With my ankle, it might take an hour to get back up there. And then what good would I do? I’d only be putting myself in harm’s way too. The best thing to do is to head out and tell rangers what I heard as soon as I can.

  Dad checked the Keyhole again.

  “Are you okay?” he shouted one last time.

  “Okay…okay…okay…” the mountain echoed back.

  Dad remembered how bad he felt at the Keyhole earlier. I probably couldn’t even get there now, he justified to himself.

  The weather confirmed for Dad that he was making the right decision. Small balls of hail began plunking down again. He stopped thinking and took off down the trail.

  • • •

  Eventually a backcountry ranger strode up to the cabin. “Hi, folks!” she greeted the Parkers.

  “Hi,” they replied. “We’re just trying to stay out of the storm,” Mom explained. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course,” the ranger replied. She stood next to the Parkers. “By the way, my name’s Dana.”

  James introduced his family, and then added, “My dad’s climbing Longs Peak.”

  Dana flinched. “Really?”

  Mom picked up on Dana’s tension. “Why? What’s up?”

  Dana paused for a second. Then she unclipped her hand radio and glanced at the Parkers. “Just a moment. I want to check on something,” she said and stepped into the cabin.

  Morgan, James, and Mom stood up and waited. The storm seemed to have eased, and now only a light mist fell. James peeked up and noticed patches of blue between the clouds. “It’s clearing!” he announced.

  Meanwhile, Mom tried to listen to Dana’s conversation on the hand radio inside the cabin. She could hear a muffled, crackly voice and some of Dana’s brief replies.

  Finally Mom heard Dana say, “Okay, I understand. I’ll check in again in a little while.” Dana stepped back outside. She looked at Mom and gently probed her with a few questions. “You said your husband is climbing Longs Peak today? Do you know when he left?”

  Mom, Morgan, and James now all looked worried. “About 1:00 AM,” Mom replied. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  Dana hesitated and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to overly concern you, but…”

  The Parkers braced themselves for impending doom.

  Then Dana continued. “There’s a rescue crew heading toward the mountain right now. Details just came in, but there may have been a person or party hit by lightning somewhere up near the Keyhole.” Dana paused again then looked directly at Mom. “Was he traveling alone?”

  “Yes,” Mom a
nswered, trembling with fear.

  Dana let out a sigh. “My sources tell me, although again we don’t have all the details, that there was a party of three involved. But that doesn’t mean a solo hiker didn’t join up with a group. Over a hundred people signed the register for a climb to the summit today, and I have no idea who might have been involved in what happened up there. Since your husband left quite early, chances are he was far below the Keyhole when the storm let loose.”

  “When was that?”

  “Just a little while ago, about the same time as here.”

  Mom estimated Dad’s climb, figuring and hoping he would have been well below the Keyhole by then.

  A shaft of sunlight penetrated the forest. It instantly warmed the air, and steam rose off the wet ground. The Parkers quickly packed up.

  “Do you know the weather forecast for the rest of the afternoon?” Mom asked Dana.

  “More thundershowers,” she replied. “But you’ll be hiking downhill from here and deeper into the forest. It might be best to head out now, while you can. You’ve got about four miles to go until you reach the trailhead bus stop.”

  Morgan, James, and Mom hastily started walking. Dana called out to them as they left: “You can get updated information about the rescue from a ranger at the visitor center or campground. Please take cover if it starts getting stormy again.”

  The Parkers scurried back to the main trail, turned left, and began hiking out.

  22

  1:00 PM

  The trail continued to descend. The lower Morgan, James, and Mom went, the denser the forest became. So far, the weather in that part of the park was an improvement over their experience higher up.

  The three Parkers tromped by Marguerite Falls and plunging Fern Falls. Eventually they made it to the junction at The Pool. Several other hikers were gathered there, also dressed in jackets.

  “I think we can slow down a little bit now,” Mom commented. “Let’s watch our footing on the wet rocks.”

 

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