Revisiting Mt. Elbert in Colorado--and Actually Reaching the Summit This Time.....

Colorado
Date: Friday, August 27, 2010
Peak: Mt. Elbert
Height: 14,440 feet
Vertical Climb: 4850 feet
Round-trip Mileage: 11.5 miles
Peak Class: #6
Height Rank: #3 of 50
Difficulty Rank: #9 of 50

(A video panoramic shot from the top of Colorado and the highest point in the Rocky Mountains)

Devin and I flew to Denver on August 27 and drove west and south through Leadville to Twin Lakes and checked into the Mt. Elbert Lodge—about 4 ½ miles west of the small town of Twin Lakes. We arrived in early afternoon and wanted to acclimate as much as possible before the ascent the next day, so we drove back to the Twin Lakes Campground and found the dirt 4-wheel drive road up to the upper trailhead. We had a Dodge SUV that was all-wheel drive so we decided to take it as far as we felt comfortable and then look around and get our bearings.

BASECAMP

(Devin and I in the Twin Lakes area the evening before our ascent)

(Mt. Elbert Lodge was originally a stagecoach stop during the mining days. It made a wonderful basecamp for the climb.)

Although not a true 4-wheel drive, the vehicle did pretty well but about one mile up we felt we had gone as far as was safely possible and parked and did some walking up the old road. We found another spot a little further up and Devin marked it on his GPS system. On the way back we had some problems getting out of our parking spot and, at one point, Devin was driving on only three wheels. It wasn’t an all-terrain vehicle, but it did ok. There was one spot coming back down, though, where the vehicle was literally sliding down the road on the loose rocks.

(One of the better sections of the 4-wheel drive road--Devin did an admirable job with the all-wheel drive vehicle. Not too bad for a flatlander.)

(Three wheels on the ground and one in the air: The two-mile dirt road was in terrible shape but we made it about half-way up which cut two miles round-trip off our hike)

(An apocalyptic message carved into one of the aspen trees. Mt. Elbert was tough, but not that bad!)

We returned to Twin Lakes and got some food to go at the Windspirit Café and returned to the lodge and ate outside on the back porch with a babbling stream beneath us and a beautiful mountain stream in front of us and a granite wall of mountain literally rising above us from the stream banks. This is one of the most beautiful spots I’ve ever seen in Colorado (I would change my mind the next day from the summit of Mt. Elbert). The weather had been beautiful and was supposed to hold for our ascent day.

After walking around a bit, we went to bed early. I went to sleep ok but woke up at 2:15 and never went back to sleep—making me tired when we set off that morning. It got down to 41 degrees that morning and we slept with two windows open but the quilts on the beds kept us warm. The Mt. Elbert Lodge is a bed and breakfast but they put out a “hikers breakfast” the night before for us so we ate a light breakfast before taking off around 5:15 am.

(Mt. Elbert in the distance--five and one-half miles away. Didn't look so tough from here)

TRAILHEAD AND WOODED TRAIL

(We parked at 5:50 am and started up the road about 40 minutes before sunrise. We had a full moon but still needed a flashlight in the woods.)

We drove back through Twin Lakes, found the county road turnoff in the dark, and worked our way up past the Twin Lakes Campground and further up the 4-wheel drive road in the dark. We found the parking spot (at about 10,000 feet) we wanted and set out at approximately 5:50 am—forty minutes before official sunrise. At first we had to use a flashlight but we were still on the dirt road and hiked about a mile further up to the official trailhead. There, we ran into a couple of guys from Boston who were also hiking the summit.

(The official trailhead marker--it was still pitch dark at this point)

There it was just getting daylight when we crossed over the wooden bridge and “officially” started the ascent of Mt. Elbert. Shortly along the trail we reached a “Y” where the Colorado Trail went to the right and the Mt. Elbert trail to the left. From here, the trail was through wooded pine and aspen trees but became steep very quickly.

(Twilight had become sunrise by the time we made it up the 4-wheel road to the footbridge marking the trailhead)

(Early on, Devin had excess energy and jumped up on this boulder for the photo. Eleven hours later, coming down, he barely looked at it)

(Although the wooded trail was mostly dirt--it was still uphill and at times could be very steep)

I felt the first hour went pretty well and my breathing actually acclimated to the altitude quicker than I had in New Mexico three weeks earlier and after about two hours, we broke out of the wooded area at the Alpine treeline—around 12,000 feet.

(Break time--we were both still feeling energetic and good but it would start to get harder from this point)

ALPINE AREA

At this point, Mt. Elbert was still a faraway mountain peak, but we continued hiking upward. The landscape was barren but did have a grassy cover here. My new boots were feeling good and I really appreciated having the new trekking poles with me at this point.

(You can see the delineation between the grassy alpine area and the rocky glacial trail. This was my first experience with trekking poles and I fully endorse them.)

At around 12,500 feet I started having trouble breathing again which slowed our pace but I still felt pretty good about our progress. We were beginning to encounter other hikers who were coming up behind us and going faster. All were very nice but one guy just couldn’t believe Devin was climbing in running sockwear. Already, at this point, I was slowing our progress down but Devin didn’t seem to mind. He was wearing his triathlon Garmin GPS wrist tracker so we knew our altitude at all times and we also were carrying a spot tracker so others could plot our progress on the Internet.

(Looking back at 13,000 feet--Twin Lakes is out of sight below the crest)

At one point we met a young couple who were climbing the peak on her birthday—which was basically what I was doing too. They were real nice and we talked a bit then they took off ahead of us but I could see she was really struggling too.

(Around 13,000 feet the views were becoming spectacular)

We continued up through what I call the “alpine area” and the views kept getting more and more spectacular the higher we climbed. At 14,000 feet we stopped and took a picture of Devin’s altimeter. At this point I was really struggling with my breathing and, while my legs were tired, I still felt pretty strong. I think we were about 4.5 miles into the hike at this point—all uphill of course. The next two miles would be killers and I would wonder several times if I’d bitten off more than I could chew with this adventure.

(This was a watershed moment: I had never officially climbed over 14,000 feet before--we could now truthfully say we were "fourteeners.")

By now, because of the thin air, I was only hiking about thirty steps then having to rest and breathe—so the progress was frustratingly slow. This was the same thing that had happened to me on Wheeler Peak three weeks earlier, so I knew what to expect and I knew that if I just kept going, I would eventually make the peak. I told Devin it was ok if he wanted to go ahead of me and summit and wait for me there but he was really considerate and stayed with me. I’m sure he could have summited at least two hours ahead of me if he had gone ahead.

GLACIAL AREA

The alpine trail wound around until it became what I called a “glacial area” with no grass and rocks and boulders strewn around everywhere. As we worked our way around the curvature of the mountain, we finally caught sight of the summit again only about 400 feet above us but it was one of the most heartbreaking discoveries of the whole climb—that 400 vertical feet would take nearly two hours of absolutely miserable step-after-step climbing on rock switchbacks. My legs had long ago gone from “greyhound mode” to “bulldog mode” and I was literally struggling to do 25-30 steps without stopping to literally “suck air.” And, while I still felt strong, my legs had really begun to tire on me.

(Although there were no truly "dangerous" areas, we did encounter some dramatic drop-offs as evidenced by Devin's feet in this photo. He hiked the entire trail in these "running socks." Several hikers voiced dismay he would do it--I had some reservations too but he said they did just fine.")

(Although Mt. Elbert has no true "false summits," this was the view after four hours of hiking. Thinking we were close, we realized Elbert was the peak in the background. It is the one point in the hike where I wondered if I was going to make it to the top.)

Devin continued to be patient with our progress and stayed with me. We also continued to meet other hikers ascending and, at this point, some we had met earlier who were now coming back down. It seems that every major climb like this presents a strange occurrence. On Wheeler Peak, it had been a jogger going past me at over 13,000 feet up the mountain, but on Mt. Elbert it was even stranger.

(At this point, there was nothing left to do but "gut it out")

We were getting very near the summit when we looked up and a Japanese guy was literally running down the mountain jumping from large rock to large rock. What struck me first was that he was wearing white linen pants with a white silk vest and a white Fedora hat (1930s style). As he reached us, I also noticed he was wearing white dress loafers and was carrying a purse (or, as they call it in Europe: a “manbag”). He flagged Devin down and asked what trail he was on—he had summited Mt. Elbert in dress clothes and then gotten turned around and headed down the wrong trail!!! When he figured that out, he turned around and began running back up to the summit. I mean he was literally running—I could only stand there gasping for air and watch him in amazement.

We continued upward and by now, my body was operating on “auto pilot” while I was literally placing one foot in front of the other and forcing myself upward. But finally, I rounded a switchback and could see the summit in front of me. We arrived almost exactly seven hours after leaving the trailhead.

(This is the final view before summiting--my feet and boots felt like they weighed thirty pounds each at this point)

SUMMIT (14,440 feet)

(Modern technology--Devin's hand-held GPS system was accurate to the foot despite being nearly three miles above sea level)

I will never forget the experience of viewing the mountains from Mt. Elbert! Here, we were at the highest point in Colorado; the highest point in the Rocky Mountain chain; and the third highest state highpoint in the United States—14,440 feet above sea level. You may experience it, but you can never really describe it. The weather had not just been good; it had been uncharacteristically beautiful and there were no storm clouds anywhere in any direction. I later read that, on a clear day, you can see literally hundreds of miles from the summit and we had a beautifully clear day.

(Twin Lakes is below Devin and Texas is far, far away behind him)

There are four major trails leading to the summit and approximately 12-15 people were there when we arrived—including the couple celebrating her birthday. It’s funny, but when you get up there, people tend to separate and find a solitary place and just sit looking out by themselves for a few minutes. We
saw three dogs that had climbed with their owners to the summit.

(There were about 12-15 people at the summit but people were, for the most part, very solitary and quiet--the views were in themselves very awe-inspiring)

Devin and I spent about 45 minutes up there taking pictures and just admiring the beauty. We got pictures of ourselves with our Dynamo jerseys and shot photos of the survey marker—the official “summit” of Colorado and the Rockies. I shot a couple of panoramic videos of the surrounding mountains and it was strange to view those massive “fourteeners” and realize they were all below us.

(Of course we had to show the colors!)

There was a clear view of Leadville below us and, amazingly, the cell tower there was unobstructed and people were getting crystal-clear cell phone coverage! Devin had five bars on his phone and called Alida from the summit. With cell coverage, everybody had Internet on their smart phones and was emailing pictures from their cell phones. We have very much become a technological society.

(They claim you can see a hundred miles from here on a clear day)

I personally sat down behind a rock cairn to get out of the wind and just soaked in the spectacular and amazing beauty all around me. We only saw one chipmunk up there but he knew how to beg for food and loved our salted almonds—but wouldn’t touch my powerbar.

(He loved our salted almonds but wouldn't touch my PowerBar--probably shows good taste on his part)

I had hydrated well on the way up—four pints of water—but had eaten hardly anything and didn’t have any appetite. I tried to force myself to eat some jerky and part of a powerbar but that was all I could do. I may have been experiencing “altitude sickness” to some degree but never got a headache.

(Devin at the top--the weather was just perfect!)

There is an old saying: “summiting is optional; but returning to base camp isn’t.” So, after 45 minutes, we were the only ones left and we started back down. The trip back took longer than either of us anticipated—four hours and fifteen minutes—and was not a fun experience but we arrived back at the car 11 hours and 54 minutes after setting out that morning. We had hiked 11.5 miles and ascended a total of 4,545 feet in the first seven hours—not particularly good time but, for me, a personal best. Devin is a ultra marathoner and triathlete and even he admitted he was beat when we got back to the car. After pulling my boots off, we drove back down the 4-wheel drive road very carefully, got some food to go at the Windspirit Café, and returned to the lodge again to eat supper outside at the base of Mt. Elbert.

Just an incredible experience!!!!!

My Experiences Climbing the High Points of the Fifty States......(or at least 25 of them so far)

In 1999 I retired from the Texas prison system and spent the better part of a month just traveling and camping around the borders of Texas--mostly in remote areas in an attempt to just get away from people and be alone. At one point I was camping in the Guadalupe Mountains National Park just south of the border of New Mexico and one day I decided to hike a trail to what was described as the "highest point in Texas." It was a tough hike but during the course of ascending I ran across two hikers who were members of an organization called "Highpointers of the Fifty States." I found the organization interesting and after bagging my first high point here in Texas, I decided to climb as many myself as I was able. I joined the organization--and they have a very interesting web site at http://highpointers.org/and to date I have climbed the highest points of twenty-five states--from the lowest in Florida (345 feet) to the third highest in the U.S. in Colorado (14,466 feet). Most are very remote but some, like in Delaware are in housing subdivisions. The high point in Iowa is on a farm and the owner encourages visitors. In my travels I have come across dinosaur tracks, the marker where Bonnie and Clyde were killed, Native American prayer cairns, and camped in the coldest, most bitter site I've ever known.

There's a saying within the organization that "the higher you climb, the nicer the people." I have found this to be true--some of these remote high points have people living nearby who maintain them and they have been some of the nicest, and most interesting, people I've met. They are usually "characters" but that only makes the experiences more interesting. Although it's been nearly five years since I "bagged" my last highpoint, I still plan to add to the list whenever I can.

Here is the journal I've maintained since that first high point here in Texas. I have arranged it from the first high point to the last--in other words, in reverse order from most blogs--so when you get to the end of the page it will be necessary to click on "older posts" to continue the journal.

State Highpoint Number 25

New Mexico

Date: August 4, 2010
Peak: Wheeler Peak
Height: 13,161 feet
Vertical Climb: 3,693 feet
Round-Trip Mileage: 16.0 miles
Peak Class: 6
Height Rank--US: 8th

Sunrise was at 6:10 and I was on the trail right at 6:00—leaving the Twining Campground parking lot and taking the Bull of the Woods route to the summit. The day before I had hiked nearly to the Bull of the Woods Pasture in running shoes to help acclimate the altitude but I was still struggling this morning as I left the parking lot. It was an unofficial goal to summit in five hours but that was just a number pulled out of my head. This was my third attempt—the first two being aborted when I got into snow at the La Cal Basin. I won’t hike solo in snow—I’m from Texas…..For this hike I was carrying a backpack with a long-sleeve shirt, rain jacket, six pints of water, trail mix, two power bars, apples and nectarines, and jerky. It probably weighed 20-25 pounds with the water making most of the weight.

The trail is steep and rocky and I read somewhere that it is here you gain the most altitude but I’m not sure I believe that. It is, however, strenuous and it took me a good fifteen minutes to actually start breathing normal again. Despite my conditioning all this year, I had to pace myself and take breaks in what seemed to be every 100 steps or so. I reached to old logging road fairly quickly and the trail widened but didn’t get any easier.

I may well have been among the first people setting out from this trailhead because I didn’t see anybody else until about thirty minutes into the hike when a couple of hikers passed me—about one mile up the trailhead. I reached the Bull of the Woods Pasture (2 ¼ miles) after about 1 hour and 25 minutes and felt pretty good at this point.

After taking a short break there, I continued upward along the trail and had a beautiful view of the chair area of the Taos Ski Valley below on the right. It was an encouraging sign in that I could see that I had made significant progress from the trailhead. The trail here was not particularly steep and somewhat pleasant compared to the first segment. After climbing a while, I passed the Red River Valley on the left with amazing views to the north.

Shortly after this, I passed through the old log gate and entered into the Wheeler Peak Wilderness Area and worked my way upward until I cleared the tree line—the alpine area—which I knew was about 12,000 feet in New Mexico.

About three hours into the hike I saw my first bighorn sheep. Even at the distance, they were very obviously bighorns and I took a photo with my zoom lens that was still very hard to distinguish but as I edited and zoomed the photo later, they are very clear. I later saw alpine deer and about this time I began seeing marmots and chipmunks literally everywhere.

After peaking what I believe was Frazier Mountain, the trail leveled off then began descending into what is referred to as the La Cal Basin. This is where the snow halted me on the first two hikes and was the reason I waited until August to try this ascent. Especially the second trip up, snow was everywhere and knee-deep and I was getting lost trying to find the trail but this year there was absolutely no snow anywhere. I later saw two patches of snow on distant mountainsides but didn’t encounter any myself.

About this time, I encountered two men coming down the trail. Turns out they were from Fort Worth and St. Louis but had been living in the mountains for several months. They were both really nice and one of them was telling me about riding the Katy Trail in Missouri—one of my future goals. They estimated I was about half-way to the summit at this point. There’s an old Highpointer saying—“the higher you climb, the nicer the people,” and I’ve found that’s true. After a brief conversation with them, I headed out again and here is where the La Cal Basin begins to descend into a “saddle” or valley. I had been warned from several trip reports that this is the most discouraging part of the hike because you lose all the altitude you just worked to get. It was at this point I was passed by a jogger of all things! I had seen the same guy the day before actually running up the steep part from the trailhead.

I was nearly four hours into the hike—all upward at this point—and I was beginning to feel the climb in my legs. The hike down involved a series of switchbacks and was easy but I couldn’t enjoy it because I knew I was going to have to climb right back up.

The short hike across the basin was also easy but then came the monster series of switchbacks upward. Every trip report had described this as the most difficult part of the ascent and they weren’t exaggerating.

The trip report I was relying on suggested setting a pace of 100 steps and a short rest but I was averaging more like fifty steps between rests and it seemed I was never making any progress. The switchbacks just keep going up, and up, and up….. To make it even worse, there at least three “false summits” where you think you’re at the top only to find the trail continues on to an even higher peak.

By now, I was approaching my five-hour goal and still was nowhere close to the summit. My legs were beginning to feel rubbery and were really starting to wobble on me. My right knee, where I had the meniscus pad stitched last spring, was beginning to feel sore so I took four Advil.

After the second “false summit,” the sky started getting dark and I could hear thunder in the background. I couldn’t see Wheeler Peak but knew where it was and dark clouds were blowing by on both sides of it. Everything, and I mean everything, I’ve read says to get off the mountain if there’s lightening.

As I was approaching the third “false summit”—Mount Walter—I was passed by another hiker who was really moving along at a fast clip. He got about a half-mile ahead of me on the switchbacks and there was a big clap of thunder above us and I saw him swivel on this heels and start right back down the trail. By now my legs were screaming at me to stop and I thought that if I needed a legitimate excuse to turn back, the storm was it. But I continued up—still about fifty steps at a time between rests—and finally I met him coming back down. He recommended I turn back but also told me if I continued on to watch the storm on the north side particularly and if I “saw” any lightening to either get off the mountain or hunker down in the open under my rain poncho until the storm passed.

And so I continued on. I can honestly say without too much exaggeration that it was one of the more physically punishing decisions I’ve ever made. I had just come too far and invested too much money on this trip to turn back at this point. At the slow pace I was moving, both storms blew past eventually. Along here, I was passed by a woman, also from Fort Worth, who was spending the summer in New Mexico and we talked a while. As we started back up, she easily outdistanced me and shortly disappeared from sight.

At the top of the La Cal Basin the trail became a ridgeline path up to Mount Walter—the final “false summit.” I, however, had lost count and as I approached it, I saw the woman and two young guys at a marker and thought I had finally reached the summit of Wheeler Peak only to find that I was on Mount Walter and the summit was another couple hundred yards further (and uphill) to Wheeler Peak.

The three other hikers obviously beat me up but I struggled up the ridgeline and finally bagged my 25^th highpoint. My third attempt spanning over ten years. 13, 161 feet elevation and a 16-mile round-trip hike involving 3,693 feet of elevation climb.

The view, however, is spectacular. The four of us took pictures of each other, signed the logbook in the marker tube, and rested. We were almost immediately overrun by marmots and chipmunks begging for food. They were really persistent and would almost tug at your pant leg with their teeth to get attention.

The two guys were college students and were working at the nearby Philmont Scout Camp for the summer. They were particularly nice kids and the four of us had a good rest at the top. They had climbed from another route and were going back that way and the woman was returning a different route also so I was solo going back down which was a good thing because my legs were shot and I wasn’t making any good time at all at this point.

Before we left, we fed the critters trail mix and probably raised their cholesterol levels to insane numbers. I guess one of the marmots felt ignored because it grabbed the cord to my camera and took off dragging it. Another took off with the map the two guys were using.

If anything, the trip back down was more punishing that the trip up because my legs were like jelly at this point and the downhill hike was just killing my toes. On top of that, one of my boots started coming apart along the side. At the end, when I pulled my boots off, I had four black toenails and all four were bleeding. I threw the boots in the nearest trash can.

The time to the summit was about seven hours—nearly two hours more than my goal—and the total time trailhead to trailhead was 11 hours and 10 minutes, including the time at the top. Not particularly good times but at least they’re “my” times. The drive back to Taos—only about thirty minutes—seemed to take hours but it was worth it.

I finally conquered Wheeler Peak!!!!!

State Highpoint Number One

TEXAS

Date: Thursday—October 7, 1999
Peak: Guadalupe Peak
Height: 8,749 feet
Vertical Climb: 2,950 feet
Round-trip Mileage: 8.4 miles
Peak Class: #5
Height Rank: #14 of 50
Difficulty Rank: #13 of 50

I spent the night tent camping in Guadalupe Mountains National Park and logged in on the trail register at 7:12 and started climbing the mountain—I decided to leave my lunch in the cooler and just took four 1-pint bottles of water strapped to a waist pack plus I carried my camera over my shoulder. The Guadalupe Peak trail was 8.4 miles round trip and rated as “very strenuous” so I started early in the morning to take advantage of the cooler temperatures and was the first one on the trail that particular morning. The ranger at the visitor’s center had told me the day before that she hiked it round-trip in six hours and most people took 6-10 hours. Despite my training, the hike started off badly. The trail started at an elevation above Denver's mile-high elevation and rose over 3,000 feet abruptly. I couldn’t get my breath and was stopping about every fifty feet to gasp for air. From the foothills, the trail was a steady uphill series of switchbacks that were difficult walking and involved a lot of “stepping up” over rocks and gullies.
After about 30 minutes two guys passed me and we talked briefly. They were from California and gave me some suggestions about regulating my breathing then went on ahead of me. By this time, my heart was pounding and my pulse was racing. I continued on and after 45 minutes considered giving it up but somehow managed to get my “second wind” about this time and from then on my breathing was fine and I only had to deal with leg fatigue.
The trail continued upward and around one mountain before I could see Guadalupe Peak. At the two hour point I drank one pint of water and stashed another on the trail so I wouldn’t have to carry it up.
The two guys who had passed me were always ahead but never out of sound and I knew that they had left only two minutes after me so I figured I was holding out pretty well to stay that close to them.
I was thankful I had left so early in the morning---much of the trail on the backside of the mountain was in shade and cool. There was always a steady---and sometimes strong---breeze, but I was comfortable in my shorts and tee shirt. Still, because of the constant climbing, I was sweating in the shade.
After passing around the backside of the mountain, I crossed a small log footbridge and entered over to the side of Guadalupe Peak. At one point the two guys ahead of me were visible and shouted down that we only had 500 vertical feet left. Turned out they had altimeter gauges. That 500 vertical feet, however, took another 45 minutes and as could be expected, were the most difficult part of the climb.
Near the top it became very windy---the rangers had warned me of this---and it became very difficult to stand upright on the trail. Very close to the peak, I lost the trail for the only time on this hike and briefly got into a side canyon and had to literally climb hand over foot over loose rock but quickly got back on the main trail and was never in danger of losing it.
When I reached the summit at 9:55 am, the two guys were already there---had been there about five minutes---so I figured I had done well time-wise. We started talking again and they turned out to be “high pointers”---climbers who were going to every state in the union and climbing the highest peak. They were really nice guys and we talked awhile and shot pictures of each other beside the stainless steel triangle that marks the peak of the mountain and they let me use their sign showing the altitude and date of the climb. According to them, Texas has the 10th highest peak and the 7th or 8th most difficult to climb. For one of them, it was his 13th peak and for the other it was his 41st. They gave me a business card with their website and were doing a video-audio record of the summit so I walked around and shot some pictures for about a half-hour.
The weather at the peak was bright and sunny but the distance was clouded by haze and a dark cloud was forming to the east. After a half-hour, I said goodbye and headed back down. The trail down was steep and faster but hurt my feet more. So far, my new hiking boots were doing a great job.
As I descended, I began meeting more and more people on their way up: A young woman in her 30’s; a young couple; an older man in his 60’s or even 70’s; two cute teenage twins who were dressed identical down to their backpacks; and a guy who had gone to Texas A&M at Galveston and was struggling to breathe like I had been earlier. Everybody was real friendly and there was a real sense of camaraderie on the trail.
Because I was concentrating on where I was stepping on the loose rocks, I missed the spot where I had stashed my water bottle which wasn’t a big loss but I felt bad because I basically had littered the trail and someone else would eventually have to carry it back down.
My legs were getting extremely tired. I slipped several times but always caught myself and a couple of times I twisted my ankle but again caught myself before I got hurt. Finally, near the end, my feet went out from under me and a fell on my hands and butt but didn’t hurt myself---especially my back. By the time I got to the bottom and the trailhead, the muscles in the front of my upper thighs were quivering.
At the bottom, I logged out on the trail register and sat down on my tailgate, removed my boots and ate a banana and apple and then the sandwiches and drank some cranberry juice. I had done in it 5hours and 23 minutes including the time on the peak. It was an incredible time and I hadn’t been specifically pushing myself---there really hadn’t been other people to pace myself with. I felt like I was in wonderful physical shape and my feet were puffy and red with three minor blisters otherwise I had done fine on the trail.
I noticed the sky was turning dark up around the peak and put on my shower shoes and drove to the Visitor’s Center, took two Advil, and bought a patch to celebrate my climb. I had not showered since New Mexico and was covered in sweat and already exhausted so I decided to drive east and find a motel with a hot shower for the night.

State Highpoints Numbers 2 & 3:

Florida (2)

Date: Wednesday, November 3, 1999
Peak: Lakewood (Britton Hill)
Height: 345 feet
Vertical Climb: 0 feet
Round-trip Mileage: 0 miles
Peak Class: #1
Height Rank: #50 of 50
Difficulty Rank: #50 of 50

After my first highpoint in October, I took off on a trip through the southern Gulf states and added more states to my list. On November 4, I did two state highpoints and went from the 14th highest in Texas to the lowest--Florida, only 345 feet above sea level. Actually it is one of those state parks listed as a "drive up." After getting up early in the morning, I took I-10 east across Pensacola Bay and East Bay and drove through forested Interstate until Exit 12 at Crestview. There was frost on the truck in the morning and the temperature had been very close to freezing. A local bank sign said 36 degrees as I left town. The day was beautiful---sunny and pale blue skies and very little wind which didn’t make the cold seem so bad. Since I was driving directly east, I was going into the sun but it wasn’t that far to Crestview.
At Crestview took Hwy 85 north towards Alabama. Rolling hills and lots of pine trees. Forested woody area. Filled up with gas at an Amoco station in Crestview. The prices were the same in all the stations, but when I pulled in, a girl came out and told me it was full service regardless of the price. First time that’s happened in years. Got some more coffee and continued north.
The road was a pleasant two-lane blacktop in good condition and very clean. The trees still had leaves---some, a few, had red and yellow leaves but most still had the green leaves and there were a lot of pines and evergreens.
Drove through Laurel Hill which was very small and very clean. The high school mascot is the Laurel Hill Hobos. Entered Alabama at Florala which had a beautiful lake to the left. The town itself was about three blocks of old brick buildings but the town was also very clean. Lots of antique stores but I didn’t stop at any of them. Took Hwy 331 and then south but the directions I had weren’t very good and I stopped at a Sheriff’s substation and was asking directions when a female sheriff’s deputy pulled in and acted real grouchy but I think she was joking with the person I was talking to. She gave me good directions to the county park with the high peak. Took Walton County Road 147 and followed it about two miles until it dead-ended. Took a left on County Road 285 north and quickly found the small park. Took some pictures at the marker---sorry now I didn’t bring my tripod---couldn’t get one of myself by the marker.
Played with the Magellan GPS and it logged my latitude and longitude closely but I couldn’t verify the altitude. The view was nice---even though the altitude is only 345 feet (lowest in America) you have a fairly nice panorama view to the south of rolling forested hills. The weather had warmed up to where I was comfortable with just a tee shirt and long jeans.
The county park had a couple of picnic tables with a pavilion and was very well maintained. There was a sign stating highest point in Florida as you pull into the parking lot and there is a nice granite marker at the exact point but I didn’t see a USGS marker.

ALABAMA (3)

Date: Wednesday, November 3, 1999
Peak: Cheaha Mountain
Height: 2,407 feet
Vertical Climb: 0 feet
Round-trip Mileage: 0 miles
Peak Class: #1
Height Rank: #35 of 50
Difficulty Rank: #46 of 50

After leaving Florida, I drove north into Alabama towards Cheaha Mountain and entered the park at 3:30---the sign said 2407 elevation but I can see peaks above the entrance. There weren’t any cabins available but I got a motel room on the top of the mountain. A little more expensive than I wanted---$56---but I really like it here. Drove the loop up to the highest point and they have a really neat CCC stone tower with a USGS marker at the base of the tower. Climbed the tower and looked around then went back down. Asked a couple to take a picture of me and then I shot some pictures and continued around the loop back to the lodge.
Moved my stuff into the room---very nice. Drove the main loop and checked out the abandoned lodge, the chapel, and made a one-mile round trip hike to Pulpit Rocks which was just breathtaking that late in the day. After a hike through the forest, I came out on a bluff and there was a forested valley below that reminded me a lot of Arkansas. The sun was setting right in front of me but as it went to one side, I sat on the rocks and just enjoyed the beautiful sunset. Just inspirational and awe-inspiring.

State Highpoints Numbers 4 & 5:


GEORGIA (4)
Date: Thursday---November 4, 1999
Peak: Brasstown Bald
Height: 4,784 feet
Vertical Climb: 400 feet
Round-trip Mileage: 1 mile
Peak Class: #2
Height Rank: #25 of 50
Difficulty Rank: #26 of 50

I continued the next day into Georgia and stopped on Blood Mountain at elevation 4,458 feet at a neat stone building located right over the Appalachian Trail---the trail literally went through a tunnel in the building. The store catered to trail hikers but the equipment and clothing were super expensive. The lady inside was real nice, though, and gave me good directions to Brasstown Bald peak.
Five miles further I caught Spur 180 and have 12 miles to go. Small two-lane blacktop road with more and more tourist-oriented businesses. Found the Brasstown Bald Visitor’s Center---the peak is run by the National Park Service---and they charged a $2 parking fee. On the way up the three-mile drive up the mountain, I stopped and took a beautiful picture of the tower. Stopped for a car that had overheated but they said they were going to coast back down to the bottom. When I parked, the attendant gave me a $2 bill, which I hadn't seen in years. They offered a shuttle up the mountain to the top but I decided to make the one-mile strenuous round trip hike.
At the top, there was a nice museum and I watched a short film about lumbering on the mountains and checked out the exhibits. The USGS marker is behind a locked door, but the ranger was glad to open it for me and let me take a picture. I shot some pictures from the observation tower and then had a couple take my picture by the vertical marker. Made the hike back down and talked with a lady from Cleveland. Looked through the small cabin selling souvenirs at the bottom but again it was too expensive and I didn’t buy anything.

SOUTH CAROLINA (5)

Date: Thursday---November 4, 1999
Peak: Sassafras Mountain
Height: 3,560 feet
Vertical Climb: 30 feet
Round-trip Mileage: 0.2 miles
Peak Class: #1
Height Rank: #29 of 50
Difficulty Rank: #37 of 50

Continued on north to Pickens. Sun was setting. Pickens had an old brick downtown area that was real clean and nice. Built on a hill. Road turned into mountainous curves again---25 mph hairpin curves again and two lane blacktop.
Found Rocky Bottom but didn’t see Road 199 and went seven miles past town into North Carolina. The sun was really starting to set now. I was determined to find the peak, though, and turned around and worked my way along the curvy road back to Rocky Bottom and turned on the only road there. It went past a camp for blind children (which had a miniature golf course) and continued on for five miles. The road was completely deserted and blacktop but narrowed down to one lane at places. At the five-mile point I found a parking lot and continued on through a gate to a circle drive that was the summit of Sassafras Mountain.
I got out, the sun was still up but it was becoming dusk now. Surprisingly I found the USGS marker quickly and took some pictures. The time was 5:25. There was a trail marker pointing to two hiking trails but the area was completely deserted. Walked over to one of the trailheads and looked out over the bluff. The sun was setting and everything was gold in color and just beautiful. It was dusk on the summit and I am so glad I turned around and found this place---it would have bugged me for a long time if I hadn’t. The temperature was dropping and I was literally five miles from the nearest people. It was so peaceful and I hated to drive back down but I didn’t want to have to negotiate the one-lane road in the dark.