Don’t get me wrong I enjoy a tasty beer as much as the next guy. But this is ridiculous. Let me start from the beginning.
Yesterday was some sort of American Holiday, I don’t know which one and quite frankly, as a Canadian I don’t care either.
Ha ha, only joking, HAPPY 4th of July everyone. Independence is a wonderful thing. The fireworks were a blast, (pun intended). Grin.
So, Lydia and I drove out to the mountains (going to Rifle today) to enjoy the holiday. While on our way, we thought we’d take the scenic drive over Loveland Pass. BEAUTIFUL. 360 degrees of carved mountains, snow patch spires, rivers, valleys, and open sky. Upon arriving at the parking lot, we decided (being the adventurous rascals we are) to keep going and hike the 20 or so extra minutes to the “Summit”. We packed a wind breaker and a camera, guzzled some agua and ditched the car for a high altitude single push, no fixed lines ascent. I’m not sure it’s been done before without Cell Phone assistance or oxygen tanks. So we were venturing into desperate territory.
Mom if you are reading this from Estonia, know that we are okay, and although I got a little woozy from time to time and though I thought I might have had a little frost nip on my pinky digits, we managed to come down safely.
So away we went. From the big wooden post. Please don’t ask why my head is cut off from this picture, or what Lydia (Mrs.White) is doing with her beautiful arm. We were oxygen deprived at this point and going a little bit loopy, also the camera man was a motorcycle driving, american flag bandana wearing alcoholic. He did the best he could, and we love him for it. Hey, at least it’s sort of in focus.
After what seemed like a lifetime of hiking (nonstop) up hill, I began to feel the effects of altitude and dehydration, I saw a stream up ahead and I just went for it. The water was colder than Susan when you called her Jane, but it was fresh from the mountain top and tasted like an angel from heaven.
Restored, we trudged on. With each step I heard the famous words of Ed Viesturs, “Getting up is optional, getting back down is mandatory” and I erased this mandate from my mind. I was obsessed, I went for it with everything I had ignoring all the signs and I saved nothing for the ride back down. I knew this approach was putting Lydia in danger, but I felt it was worth the sacrifice.
Here Lydia is mere steps away from the FAKE summit. We still had at least 5 minutes of hiking to the REAL summit and this was the hardest part, I started losing motivation. My ankles hurt, my head swelled and I had a craving for a Kit Kat. But somehow we just kept going up, one step at a time. And finally…
WE MADE IT. I could not be happier and I made my trademark leap for joy. The rush of adrenaline kicked in, overwhelming me with gayness and jollyness. I could not contain myself, like a kid on Christmas morning.
Lydia made her trade mark back bend, but it was weak, she usually goes deeper than this, but the boulder I made her stand on for a more dramatic effect was wobbling, and if she lost her balance the whole thing was bound to tip and roll, sending both flying over the cliffs edge, hurtling 600 feet onto the highway below. And we wouldn’t want that. The sky behind was raining, and we thought if it hit us, we may have to open bivy. So, we made our summit celebration swift and then it happened, we stumbled upon what looked like a bastardization of the summit, not a registrar tucked under a rock, but TRASH. ANd I ask myself, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE? YOU SUCK.
FOR REAL. WHAT THE F_CK? I AM SO OVER THIS. Pack out your motha fuggin trash people. I swear to god if I saw this person trying to get away with this cheap, disgusting and shameful smack act, I would have shoved that friggin tuna package right up their ass. And by the looks of it, there were TWO people doing this. I can see one pathetic loser up there by himself, hating life and shoving his wasteful overpackaged lunch under a rock, but the remains we found indicate that there were in fact two people. That means, that there are two people roaming around the mountains who actually think that this sort of thing is acceptable. WELL IT ISN’T YOU WORTHLESS SACS OF SCUM – AND – YOU RUINED MY WHOLE SUMMIT EXPERIENCE and I AM SEVERELY PISSED OFF ABOUT IT. Who raised you? and why do you think you should be allowed outside if all you are going to do is mess it up. I seriously think you should be chained to a wall on Pearl Street, while people passing by get to spit on your face. YOU are weak and disgusting and we got dirty carrying your rancid waste away. This was not an accident, this was a decision and it makes me want to puke. I’m sorry for this dribble, you don’t have to read it anymore if you don’t want to, I just can’t get over this. Smarten up.
Okay, back to the story. We made it down safely, neither one of us have never stood at over 12,000 feet, so it was a big day for us, and we lived happily ever after. The end.