The Wandering Toto

Rain speckled the windshield as we pulled over to the side of the road just before the turnoff to the trail head. We weren’t far now but were still waiting on the second car. The sun had just set and the storm overhead created an almost pitch black shroud all around us, save lights from houses here and there and the occasional passing vehicle. A burrito or at least part of a burrito would be my sustenance for the night a local establishment that offers the option of putting green chili into your burrito was where we had stopped on the way out and I was glad we had as it was slowly becoming my favorite burrito in town. I ate about half of it and decided I’d save the rest for the next day so I wrapped it back up in its foil and threw it back into the paper bag it came in. The second car arrived just as I was sitting the bag down onto the floorboard and we fired up the car to lead the group up toward the trailhead. About an eighth of a mile past the trailhead and around the corner from the last large crater in the road we had passed was where we decided to post up for the night and make camp. We threw our tents up in a hurry to try and limit the amount of rain that would get in before we could secure the rain flys, shortly thereafter we settled in for the night and set our alarms for a time too early for my brain to comprehend. It was going to be a very early start to the next day.

Up and on the trail by a little after five in the morning there wasn’t much to see at first, headlamps were a necessity because without them it was like staring into the void, pitch black. It was over a mile before we got a glimpse of daybreak so the views to start weren’t much. We creeped up the ridge higher and higher in and out of pockets of trees and the going was difficult at first, I had been fighting a head cold for a few days prior but I was working under the assumption that pushing myself to the brink would kill it.

As the trees started to clear out the view to our left was a beautiful valley that featured two lakes and a waterfall, you could hear the stream rushing down toward the valley floor even from high above and you could almost feel the force of it. The sun started peaking above the wall of mountains behind us right as we were high enough to enjoy the views of adjacent mounts, colored in reds, browns, orange, tans and grays, fall had truly begun above the tree line, the alpine tundra was preparing for hibernation under its annual blanket of white.

Trees gave way to rock covered tundra and the dirt path turned into a stone staircase, carefully crafted up the side of the first and lowest part of the ridge in switchbacks. As we reached the top and started the long grinding ascent I caught a glimpse of Gray’s and Torrey’s. The going would turn from a standard winding trail to a straight line shot up the spine of the mountain a trail over basically pure rock, but not solid rock, ankle breaking loose stones covered the ground, reminiscent of when I would dump my tub of Legos across my floor as a child. This was payback for all those times my Dad stepped upon them with their deceivingly sharp edges and near invisibility in morning light, or midday light for that matter.

A view of near constant deception was all the peak had on offer, every inch toward the summit seemed like it offered eight different perspectives all which made it seem like we were never going to get there. It isn’t a terribly difficult path physically, save for the constant threat of your ankles being butchered by the bed of stones that brings to mind a landscaping job where someone was just a little to into river rocks, but the mental drain was high, false summits and a view of the path that makes it seem almost never ending make it a somewhat grueling slog.

Higher and higher we climbed and every foot forward we gained an even better view of the valley below and the mountains to our south, a gray wall speckled with pockets of snow and a green carpet covering all of the floor that wasn’t taken up by blue shimmering lake. Even up here you could still hear the sounds of the stream, a constant rushing that sounded almost like wind whistling through the trees.

At long last, the clouds gave way to blue skies and our morale skyrocketed, a rocky outcropping overlooking the valley provided a brilliant view and a spot to have a portrait taken. The path might’ve been long and a constant battle for the structural integrity of ones ankles but it’s location on the mountain gave it some of the most stunning views I’ve had on a journey to date.

We were higher now than the wall to our south and only climbing still, in the distance ahead of us was a man carrying a Colorado flag, he became my silent obsession, I was chasing him, we were in a race whether he was aware of it or not. I representing my home state of Kansas and all those “flat landers” and he the beautiful state we both reside in a state of mountains and trees and blue skies, lakes and rivers. I wasn’t going to lose. My focus became razor sharp and my pace quickened as I began the final push to the summit, in my eagerness to claim this mountain for Kansas I left my group in the dust, so zeroed in on my target I wasn’t aware of this until I was basically at the summit. One foot followed the other as I hopped from rock to rock passing by other hikers who were catching their breath or taking in the view all the while I was slowly closing in on the representative from Colorado, his blue and white flag flapping majestically in the light breeze blowing around the mountain. Finally three hundred yards from the top I passed him, he had taken a seat to recharge no doubt for the final push, as I passed him I made a joke about having forgotten my Kansas flag for this battle of Quandary Peak.

I crested the last of what I thought would surely be another false summit but I hoped that the frost covering everything was the sign I’d reached glory on yet another wild trip to fourteen thousand feet and indeed it was. I had reached the top where it was much, much less warm than it had been lower down and featured much more wind than I had anticipated.

Out west you could make out the mounts of Elbert, Massive and Holy Cross a wonderful view of the mighty Sawatch range, which features many of Colorado’s highest peaks. To the east you could see Evans, Gray’s and Torrey’s and you could just barely make out Longs peak before it was covered by clouds.

North of me lay a valley with three alpine lakes and several small ponds, a wall of rocks above them and a valley to their east. Although I looked as hard as I could I was not fortunate enough to see the snow white beasts that I had encountered on Bierstadt, the mountain goats must’ve been on another peak. About fifteen minutes after I summited my three companions made it to the top, we congratulated each other and it was at that moment I pulled out the burrito I had saved from the night before.

Illegal Pete’s is the name of the establishment that crafted this work of art, this masterpiece of pork, beans, rice, cheese, salsas and tortilla. I devoured it much to the pleasure of others atop the summit who’s laughs almost immediately followed my answer to their question of whether or not I brought a burrito all the way up. As it was cold and quite windy at the top we didn’t linger long once the burrito was gone, we wanted to get back down where the wind wasn’t pushing temperatures into the thirties so we took a few summit photos and made our way back to the trail.

Two men, in skinny jeans, swilling delicious native grog atop a mountain whilst the wind tried its damndest to freeze our extremities. Normally we wouldn’t hike in jeans but it was colder than we had planned on it being as shorts weather had suddenly passed us by.

As we made our way back down the trail a calm fell over the whole group and indeed all the fellow explorers who had the same idea that day. Chirping of the pika as they scurried from rock to rock, the gentle rushing of the stream in the valley below, a clear blue mountain sky with a brilliant sun warming me, I was in paradise without a care in the world.

Everything was peace and beauty and everything was in perfect harmony.

The Wandering Toto

– 2019

A buzzing rattled my brain as I lay exhausted and hungover in the pitch black of my room. The beeps from the alarm were entering my ears like tiny knives each piercing squeal driving them deeper. The time on the phone read 3:45 am, which was only 3 and a half hours after I had laid down the night before. My bed was soft and comfortable and wouldn’t betray me but I had made a promise to myself, to summit another fourteener, what would be my third, so the battle began. I snoozed the alarm and when it went off again, or at least when I realized that it was going off, it was 4:06 am. I sat in bed debating whether to just rest or whether to actually get up, get around and head out, for the next three and a bit minutes. Insanity prevailed and I sprung up grabbed the clothes I had sat out the night before and hopped in the shower.

I found mostly deserted roads as I headed out toward the mountains, wide open streets and highways under the orange glow of street lights. A pit stop at a gas station just north of red rocks gave me the fuel I would need both on the drive and during the hike. Another hour of driving but it disappeared in the blink of an eye and it was in that blur where I passed through a worm hole in time and space and popped out parked on the side of the road atop Guanella pass, staring up at the shadow of a great beast, Mt Bierstadt.

The sky was a brilliant gradient of reds, purples, whites and blues, slowly creeping higher and higher as I made my way toward the actual climb. The summit loomed in the foreground and a duck quacked it’s morning song on the lake to my left. The mountain is normally outlandishly crowded but getting here this early helped me find enough space to gain solitude. A peaceful high altitude marsh lay between me and the wall ahead as the sun’s rays turned the sky just above the mountain a bright orange. You could see little sparkles of light up the trail where the earliest crowd had already been making their way toward the summit, their head lamps looked like stars against a blackish blue backdrop of shadow covered mountain.

As I got to the far edge of the marsh I came across a picturesque stream, babbling it’s way down the valley no doubt from a glacial lake high above. I made my way across it by hopping on a set of stones that were sitting in an almost straight line from one side to the other, a bridge it was not but it would do the trick. Afterward the trail started to climb, out of the willows and into switchbacks up the side of the first hill which helped me gaze out across the stunning valley to the south.

I continued my climb up into the alpine tundra still under a purple and blue sky but to the south where the mountain didn’t cover it, the suns rays lit a smaller cluster of mountains and hills. Pale greens around me but in the sunlit distance were yellows and browns fall has begun in the high alpine region. The wild flowers which had peppered the landscape were all finishing their yearly life cycle and slowly returning to earth.

The view behind me was of a valley bathed in shadow but slowly the light was winning its daily battle as the line of darkness was being methodically forced back down and the sun’s beams slowly washed over the land. With a view as such, in the circumstances I found myself in, I paused for a moment of self reflection. Why do I do this? I asked myself, Why put myself through pain to just walk up a mountain? I knew the answer, I do it to remind myself of nature’s beauty as well as to accomplish something that actually requires patience and perseverance, something that is challenging, even if the path I found myself on wasn’t quite the most difficult it was still something that would give me that feeling of accomplishment and peace.

A trio of snow white mountain goats greeted me as I climbed higher, they sauntered back and forth across the trail foraging for food in the alpine tundra. The closest I got was about ten yards, trying to keep my distance but still moving up the trail, if they wandered into my path I would stop and wait for them to mosey onward to another spot. It’s amazing how many creatures litter these hills, marmots, goats, pika, birds and I even got to see a Stoat as it poked its head out from a gap in one of the massive cairns marking the trail.

In the early hours you are unaware of the presence of all these creatures it isn’t until the sun’s majestic beams start to wash over the countryside that you start to hear their noises and calls and see them scurry around from place to place looking for breakfast.

As I climbed higher and higher the tundra gave way to a boulder field and the sun decided to be at the perfect angle to blind me for the next fifteen minutes, I welcomed it however as the warmth washed over my body for the first time that morning. The morning featured temperatures in the forties but once I got to the sun it felt perfect. I made it to the final ridge just below the summit and took a pause to chat with a fellow hiker as we gazed out to the southeast upon a peaceful lake down below. We discussed the trail, the beautiful conditions and the potential path to a second summit I was unsure of doing. It was dangerous to attempt alone he told me, a category 3 scramble along a ridge known as the Sawtooth it isn’t that it’s difficult but that it is exposed enough that if you’re fatigued and don’t have someone to help you keep pace you can lose concentration and experience catastrophe.

I continued up toward the summit and came across an outcropping that creates a beautiful backdrop, I exchanged a photo for a photo with another hiker as well as some more idle conversation. He had gotten too excited and powered ahead of the other three in his group but it gave him time to pause and enjoy the scenery. As his companions staggered up behind I continued my journey to the top, shot a nod his way and thanked him for the photo.

I made it to the summit, from trailhead to peak I had spent an hour and forty minutes hiking, I blistered up the side of that mountain and sitting atop it gazing out west I felt wonderful. I knew it wasn’t the toughest hike but I’d conquered my third fourteener incredibly fast for my skill level and I enjoyed a solid hour up top soaking in the sun and chatting with fellow hikers. Up top I could finally make out the Sawtooth more clearly and realized I was probably not skilled enough to attempt it this time but standing atop Bierstadt and making conversation with all of those who’d had the same idea that morning filled me with a warmth even the sun couldn’t match. It is easy to forget how together we all are, with our lives becoming more and more insulated through electronic means. The scene at the summit was an eclectic group, highly varied backgrounds and experience and everyone realized the difficulty of what they had done.

On my way down, as I gazed out west I saw a mountain I do yearn to climb, one of the most unique mounts in the Rockies, Mount of the Holy Cross. It carries a line of snow straight as an arrow down the middle of its face and two thirds of the way up a crest of snow perpendicular to the line down. It creates a feature that looks like a cross and has been something I’ve longed to see for quite some time. It was hard to take a picture of but I could see it off in the distance looming, the center line still featured snow and you could barely make up the cross section but there was no doubt which peak I was staring at.

This was my first solo summit, I hadn’t attempted this magnitude of hike alone before and even though it wasn’t that difficult of a hike this wasn’t about the destination it was about the journey, solitude and meeting people. All up and down the trail I chatted with and offered lines of encouragement to so many other wanderers making their way to the top. Be kind to each other my friends especially when exerting your limits physically or when you see others doing the same.

Mountains represent nature’s beauty and awe, a cocktail of majesty, danger and challenge that pulls people in, a peaceful calm place that, even when crowded, just a glance outward offers a bit of reprieve where you hardly notice the noise. I can see why mountains are held in such high regard by humans throughout history and even today, being worshipped in places like Tibet, Korea, Japan, New Zealand, Armenia and even by Native Americans. Mountains are a monument to the grandiose nature of Mother Earth as well as the remorseless brutality she sometimes sees fit to remind us of.

Nature is beauty, it’s difficult to put into perspective or quantify, words can only convey so much, pictures are facsimiles, songs, poems and videos can only help your imagination grab a slice of what it means to be the embodiment of beauty, but without visiting nature yourself you’ll never fully grasp it. I come from the land of Oz, a place most people don’t find beauty in but it is a gorgeous place, it’s just difficult to express that fact. I’ll tell you this, if you can’t find beauty in a place such Kansas or anywhere like it, if you can’t truly understand that nature in and of itself is beauty the mountains are wasted on you. I didn’t really grasp this until I sat atop a mountain and gazed out across the land, surveying all that the earth has to offer. We take for granted the world we live in and the public lands that are freely accessible to us, these places are ours and that is a magical thing.

The Wandering Toto

– 2019

I just got home from summiting Mount Bierstadt and I’ll have a story about it later this week but I wanted to update the blog real quick! Mainly I wanted to post a few pictures because although it wasn’t the most stunning hike I’ve done thus far it was certainly very pretty.

I summited solo in about an hour and forty minutes which makes me feel pretty damn good because even though it’s a pretty easy hike as far as 14ers go I absolutely killed it up that beast. I had intentions of hiking the ridge between Bierstadt and Evans but decided I’d save that for another time. When I got to the summit and could see that it was much more difficult looking than I had hoped.

You can see it here to the left side of this picture here, it’s not as knife’s edge as it seems but it was more gnarly than I felt capable of today.

Anyway that’s the quick update nothing new travel wise and other than a couple more 14ers to hike in the next couple of weeks nothing else to report. Take it easy out there!

The Wandering Toto

– 2019

I’m at the laundromat waiting on a dryer to finish it’s job so I figured I’d do a quick write up on some travel goals I have and just spew some quasi inspirational quotes that I am just making up as I go along.

I’ll start with this, I am not looking to be one of those travel influencer accounts, someone with no real depth or meaning outside of “Hey look where I am this week! Don’t forget to smash that subscribe button!!” Not that I begrudge anyone who can successfully make a career out of posting pictures and videos of beautiful places and if I had the opportunity to do that I would probably follow suit. With that said the reason I am trying to build this blog is to inspire others to go for it, and like my influences to show people that we are all humans no matter where we come from or live. Be not afraid of those who are different my friends, for we all bleed red and we are all just trying to get by. This blog is a place to post my experiences and takeaways in the hopes that somewhere someone is reading it all and making their plans to wander the globe taking in its beauty.

GOALS

So I’m careening toward middle age, I am about four months shy of thirty, which feels insane. I still remember being an eighteen year old idiot who had no real plans outside of what video games were coming out soon and who could buy me beer. I still feel incredibly youthful, parts of me just hurt more than they used to, all of this is to talk about goals I have for travel and places to go.

Goal 1:

See Europe. Since I was young I’ve been infatuated with the old country, the mother land, my family hails from Germany and various other countries across the pond and I’ve always loved European history. My wonderful Grandmother on my Mom’s side helped inspire a great interest in World War II that also helped drive this deep curiosity. Europe is such a fascinating place with such a crazy tumultuous history outside of the last 70 years. I’ve lived almost my entire life in Kansas until the past year where I moved to Colorado. I’ve only been outside the states three times, a border town in Mexico when I was 9, a day spent in Victoria, British Columbia and now a week in a small town in Alberta Canada for work. That’s why this is my main Goal, Europe calls to me so my main quest is to make it there within the next 3 years. I don’t want to give myself too tight of a timeline but I also don’t want to give myself too much time lest I push it off too much.

Oh look, me in Canada

Goal 2:

Explore the central states by car steering clear of the interstate. With this goal I’m aligning myself with an idea that most of the reason people think it sucks to drive across certain states *cough* Kansas *cough* is because the interstate never really takes you to the most beautiful places and really gives you a poor idea of how a landscape really is. I want to explore the US highways from the Dakotas to Texas, Utah to Illinois and everywhere in between. I want to show that there’s more there than meets the eye and you can find beautiful places all over if you just get out and look for them. For this goal I want to give myself an expected start date rather than a date of completion, since it will likely take a very long time to accomplish. 5 years, within the next 5 years I plan on starting this.

A random gas station in Kansas had a beautiful Mercury Montclair and I wouldn’t have ever seen if had we stuck to the interstate.

Goal 3:

Keep posting things. This goal will be constant, I want to build this into a real blog that people read frequently something that keeps the hits coming or at least pushes out enough interesting stuff to keep people entertained.

I’ll start with three goals, mainly because the dryer is almost done and I am running out of time.

Push your limits, don’t kill yourself through physical or mental stresses but put yourself out there where you are beyond your comfort level and try to avoid complacency. This isn’t just about traveling, this can apply to everything, if you’re unhappy with your job go after something else, if you think you deserve a promotion go get it, if you want a house don’t get distraught figure out the best route you can take to achieve that goal. If you don’t like where you live look around, there are so many places to live and work don’t stay somewhere just because it’s the known place, go see if you can find a place that better fits you whether that be a small town in the middle of nowhere or a huge metropolis. Be the change you want.

Okay now my dryer is done and my brain hurts from all the clichés.

FIN

The Wandering Toto

– 2019

The sky was clear and the ink black void was only broken up by a thin crescent moon and a scattershot of stars as we wound around I70 toward the heart of the mountains. A late start but we were making good progress toward the trailhead where we would camp for the night before attempting to summit two of the highest peaks in Colorado, a task that I was nervous for. This would be my first time above fourteen thousand feet and I knew that even though the route we had chosen wasn’t exactly technical it was still a feat that would test the limits of my abilities. Off the highway we turned left and headed south up a dirt track toward the trailhead through thick forest the surface of which was filled with small boulders and large craters. Halfway up there was a family sedan whose front left wheel had been broken free of the metal bonds that keep it in line with the right side, as well as having a shattered rear window who knows how long this car had been abandoned. Campers along the side of the road here and there, I don’t know if they were going to summit the mountain or not but either way they were enjoying an absolutely gorgeous night.

The morning came quickly after a few beers enjoyed with strangers perched round a small campfire chatting and carrying on into the wee hours. We shared the tent that night having figured it being a two man tent there would be room for two men and there was, only just. As the alarms started going off we reluctantly crawled from our cramped confines and disassembled our quarters. The views were stunning all around as we walked back down the path above the parking lot headed toward the car. We made some quick cups of coffee using a wonderful little device that rests atop the mug and holds a filter, perfect for a one shot cup of joe. The sun slowly started creeping over the wall of mountains at our backs and started illuminating the valley ahead of us. We finished our coffee, packed away our extra gear, changed into better hiking clothes and then I swapped back out of my hiking pants and into my shorts and headed up the path.

As we climbed up the first stages of the path and rounded a slight bend we were gifted with a wonderful sunlit view of the first beast which we would tackle. Gray’s Peak stood bathed in the early morning sun rising above the valley ahead sprinkled with snow and covered in scree. The mountain had an almost square looking top and you could barely make out the trail of switch backs up the side. Closest to us was a sheer cliff face the bottom of which featured a bowl of snow still not yet fully melted.

As the shrubs around us turned to an alpine meadow full of wild flowers the sun finally peaked above the eastern wall of the valley and provided some stunning lighting for the multitude of pictures that I took. This was the first moment where I began to feel in me something change, something began bubbling deep down and I was slowly becoming more and more cognizant of a feeling of peace.

The night before we had met two gentlemen who were going to summit by going the hard route, a class three scramble up a ridge to the sister peak and second one we would summit, Torrey’s. Called the Kelso ridge it runs from a smaller 13000 foot mountain dips down to a fork that has a path that leads to the main trail and a path straight up a ridge of boulders and small cliffs to the top of the other 14000 foot peak at the end of the valley. I don’t know if we saw the pair as we hiked the standard path but I know they successfully traversed the ridge as we met them between the two peaks heading the opposite direction as us.

The closer we got to the first summit the more and more rocks there were and the less mosses and grass. The grayish brown of the scree field was only broken up by pockets of yellow and white, wild flowers and snow. You could see small specks on the peak, those who had already summited Gray’s. It was slightly unnerving to see just how small they were compared to the beast we were about to climb.

Just before we reached the final stretch of switch backs we ran into some hairy horned friends. Bright white and shedding their thicker coats they grazed on the wild flowers and gave us no mind. I had never seen mountain goats in the flesh before and it felt amazing to see them so close. The idiot in me wanted to run up and try to pet them but luckily the idiot was also the one leading this expedition and was already too tired to act on such impulses. Our horned, hooved friends would have to be left alone, we had a mountain to climb.

Just before the summit of the first mountain we took a pause and looked back to behold the view and I have to say it was truly stunning. A narrow valley with a wall of rock and dirt on the right side and a large grass covered mountain on the other lay before us, with patches of darker green where shrubs grew and a dark blue stream running across the middle, you could follow the trail all the way back down to the tree line. It reminded me of pictures I have seen of Iceland, an almost moss like color to the tundra below a valley almost entirely untouched out of respect for the awesome beauty of it all.

Finally we made it to the first summit and I really felt a change coming. I hadn’t kept up with my hiking or outdoor pursuits very well in the preceding weeks and I wasn’t sure if I could really make it up the trail that day, especially after getting home later than I had planned the night before and getting very little sleep. I sat upon the peak gazing out over the mountains and valleys below, eating the remainder of a burrito purchased the night before and had a realization of what I had accomplished in what context. I realized that no matter what I try to do no matter how I feel beforehand and this goes for everyone, I can accomplish the goals I have. As the old cliche goes, if there is a will, there is a way. The crazy thing is there was still another mountain to summit and plenty of hike left.

We started down the next path heading toward the second mountain. What, rather worryingly had appeared to be an almost knife like edge from down below turned out to be a much bigger swath of rocks and dirt that was almost as wide as the two peaks and was a more gradual slope on the back side than it had appeared. All that said, it was still going to be a long process to get down the ridge and back up to the second peak. At the bottom of this path we met our friends from the night before, briefly stopped to enjoy their company one last time and then parted ways perhaps to meet again on another crag high above another valley.

A beautiful view of the other side of the continental divide featured a wall of peaks the stunning lake Dillon in the foreground and far in the distance another run of high mountains with pockets of snow. We were almost at the top.

We finally reached the top and from here the views all around were stunning including the look back at the other summit. You could see all the way to the plains in the east and to the Sawatch range in the west, you could see Long’s peak and James peak to the north and Pikes peak to the south, well the southwest. The view from atop a mountain gives you a true feeling of the scale of our world, the tiny little ants atop these enormous monoliths, these monuments to rock and earth. I was forever changed by it, I will never forget the thrill of summiting a mountain that large and I can’t help but hunger for more, more mountains, more summits, more majestic views, more awe inspiring moments of peace.

Just two sweaty dudes, atop the second of two 14000 foot mountains. The trip back down was long and arduous but the memories will last a lifetime and I won’t soon forget this experience in the hidden valley where you could feel the earth’s energy. The hidden valley where the wild flowers bloomed and the mountain goats grazed.

The hidden valley where my old life died and I was born anew.

The Wandering Toto

– 2019

“Travel changes you. As you move through this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life – and travel – leaves marks on you.”

– Anthony Bourdain

Travel isn’t just about going somewhere, it’s not just about seeing things, travel is about engulfing yourself in sights, sounds, smells, tastes and experiences that expand your mind and soul. It’s about losing yourself in your surroundings and rediscovering who you are and who you can be, cast away your fears and fall in love with the world and it’s people. When you find that drive to explore you’ll never look back, that catharsis is something magical and leaves you wanting more of it.

So my advice to you is the following, get a passport, go hike into the mountains where there’s no phone signal, buy that cheap flight to somewhere you’ve never been before, leave the comfort of the known for the thrill of the unknown. When you feel that itch, that constant tingling, that thought rattling around the back of your mind that just won’t leave you alone you’ll know you’re there. You’ll know you are on the path to exploring and that drive will never leave you. Welcome to Wanderlust.

– The Wandering Toto

2019