Four Pass Loop - Day 2
making my way up to west maroon pass- as happy as a clam.
8/29/23
8.15pm. bed time. i had the usual fits of waking myself up as i was falling asleep. a camping classic of: was that a bear or me snoring? although it took a while for my feet to warm up last night, i slept pretty comfortably once they did. waking up on and off throughout the night, but still feeling like i got a good rest.
5.45am. whoop buzzed and alarm rang. the adventure began again. the intention was to be on trail around 7/7.30am (8 at the latest), so i could be over the passes and back below treeline by noon/1pm #afternoonthunderstormlife.
i bundled up and made my way towards the bear cans, trying to be as quiet as possible and not wake the guys. as i shoved gluten free granola in my face, i kept checking for animals behind me and up ahead. the checking this time though, was less panicky and more calm. looking because of general awareness, rather than fear.
as i ate my cold granola, i realized that unless temperatures were really warm, i’d rather be eating something hot or, at least not cold. this reminded me to also save my coffee for last, as a special treat and pat on the back for having eaten all my breakfast, so that i could really savor it- having it’s creamy and sugary flavor swirl about my mouth a while longer.
darkness slowly let go of its grip and sunlight stretched over the peaks around me, as i grabbed my bear can and stove and headed back to my tent, ready to pack all my belongings up and start carrying my home on my back again. by the time i was all packed up, they dudes started having breakfast. “thanks for letting me join you last night, i’ll see you on trail!” ian replied, “yeah, more like we’ll see you at camp!” “i wouldn’t be too sure about that. i’ll see you on trail”. and off i was.
they seemed to have the impression i was faster than them, but really i just left camp sooner and bombed the downhills.
i set off, the sky still dusky, and felt so at peace. the brown turning to red bells, captivating my attention. the quiet, ohhh the quiet. interrupted only by my occasional “hey bear!”, “hey moose!”, and banging my poles together, just in case some animal was on their morning stroll.
this was officially the most alone i had been on this trail yet. not alone emotionally, but physically. it was impossible to feel lonely in such a beautiful place. i made my way up, reminding myself to go slow as i’d never backpacked at this altitude before. i’d rather have a bit more energy left, knowing i had 2 passes ahead of me, than gas myself right off the bat.
the morning glow was magical. golden light casting itself onto peaks and brigtening the towering shrubs. about 1 mile in, i stopped for what would become my usual on-trail morning routine: take off my glasses and put my contacts in, apply sunscreen, and switch my hat from the warm beanie to a wide brim sun one.
i 100% believe in doing things afraid. in feeling the fear and doing it anyway. that’s what being brave is, after all. and, my god, what a liberating, exhilarating, and surprising feeling it was to be doing something where i’d felt so viscerally frightened in the past, and now had been so present and comfortable doing.
maroon pass came quickly as the deep green valley grew behind me and a rockier expanse opened up before me. the climb wasn’t too steep, but part of it was pretty exposed, giving me bursts of joy and adrenaline. “i’m really doing this!”
after drinking some electrolytes and eating my coveted fruit snacks, i peeked behind me to see six people making their way up. i had no doubts it was the dudes. i hoisted my pack back on, snapped a few pictures for them, and shewed away a drastically overfed chipmunk. down i went.
this downhill took me by surprise as my thighs burned from breaking my fall. i guess 40 extra lbs makes a difference in the force required to keep me upright while gravity itself would rather have me careening down. i had to stop myself from running, both from giddyness and momentum “you’re backing, not trail running, steph!” flashes of my sprained ankle, back to the ground and eyes to the sky from last year flashed through my mind. “okay okay, i’m slowing down.”
i gleefully made my way down, squealing at the ocean of vivid grass-blanketed mountains ahead of me, the wildflowers (name specific ones) still in bloom- splashes of orange, purple, and yellow adorning her neck. “oh my goooodddd”s erupting from my mouth every few minutes.
the downhill didn’t last long and it was soon time to start climbing again. this part was more gradual than the one before (at least for now). to the point that it felt enjoyable, like i was taking a gentle stroll up a mountain, channeling my inner maria from the sound of music. i noticed a person backpacking alone up ahead and snapped a few pictures of them, maybe i’d be able to airdrop them later on.
i felt like i was walking on top of the world. the mountain ridges trailing just below my shoulder, my feet steadily carrying me across endless miles. it’s true, i feel happiest when i’m outside.
the last half mile up to frigid air pass was steep enough to look at maroon pass and scoff. i stopped frequently, moving at a sloth like pace, until after the last few feet of crumbling dirt beneath my feet, i breached the top. this pass was aptly named, as within a few minutes of having arrived, i opened my pack and slipped my puffy on. frigid air pass indeed.
i took some moments to eat alone before walking up to the person i’d taken pictures of and introduced myself, “steph”, “nikki”. we talked for a bit and i air dropped her the pictures. she was also doing a smiliar itinerary as the dudes and i, but a few miles removed.
as i hoisted my pack back on and got ready to head down, the dudes rose over the pass. we exchanged a few words before i asked phil to take a picture for me and then made my way down.
on this decent, i let myself run on some of the flatter downhills. i took each step with care. a gentle breeze caressing my cheek, poles in hand, clanging metal mug, and full-toothed smile on my face. i felt free. i felt at peace and at home. like i belonged.
this was the longest day on trail. by far. by 2.30pm i’d already hiked about 10 miles and gone over 2 passes. energy was starting to slowly deplete and my feet had had it.
nikki and i had been leap frogging each other for the better part of the day and at this point, during the final ascent prior to my turn for geneva lake, shortly into that ascent, nikki turned around, realizing she had to camp by the river we’d just passed.
i continued on alone. that last mile uphill was brutal. there is nothing like a grade greater than 30% to make you feel like a mile is endless, like years could pass with each step you take.
this was the only part on trail where the fatigue spilled out as tears. i felt nasueos, tired, and anxious about making it to camp before sunset. i let myself cry and forced myself to eat. i felt like i was rushing against time.
but one painfully slow step at a time, i eventually made it to the top where the trail would biforcate towards geneva lake, my home for the night. i stood there for a moment, as i refilled my water, and took in the view. glorious mountains surrounded me in every direction. even amidst the fatigue, gratitude had a choke-hold on me.
i listened to some music and podcasts out loud, no one else around me, in hopes of alerting any animals of my presence, as i walked the last mile to camp.
as i arrived at geneva lake, i saw a campsite with plenty of spots. the temptation to post up there was high, but i trudged on, hoping to both leave that for the dude and find a place closer to the lake for myself. after a frigid river crossing that requried my shoes to be taken off, i found the perfect little designated site. a few feet off trail and with a tiny path that led to a rocky outcropping- aka my kitchen for the night.
i set up my tent and, without unpacking the rest, went straight to cooking my dinner. the mosquitos were buzzing around me as i saw the guys walk in to camp on the other shore of the lake. i could already feel the soreness in my bones as i finished scarfing down my dinner and got back up to head to the tent. each step sending a ripple of “oohh” and giggles. i’ve always found certain kinds of pain to carry some satisfaction within them.
9pm. i climbed into my sleeping bag with sore muscles, a grateful heart, and excitement for what was still to come.
the day’s data:
hiked: 7am-6.30pm
wildlife seen: birds, chimpunks, and mosquitos
15.93 miles and 5,404 ft elevation gain
all of the wildflowers!
campsites on all trails aren’t accurate
geneva lake: buggy!
technical notes:
the east side of West Maroon pass was more uphill and straight up versus the west side of it, had a little bit more switchbacks at least towards the top
geneva lake has designated campsites only, so make sure to look for those cute wooden markers