Epic Journey to King's Peak

Over Labor Day weekend, my dad planned a backpacking trip to King's Peak. I  really wanted to go, but was a little wary because Cole was only six months old and we had never left him. Also, Cole came down with a pretty bad cold and was feeling miserable. Despite these inhibitions, my spirit of adventure won out over my motherly instincts. (Cole did just fine without us.) So Friday, I packed our bags, making sure to include the electric breast pump. We arrived at the trailhead around eight-thirty p.m. and hiked four or so miles in and found a less rocky spot to lay our heads. 

I was surprised at my dad's cheery attitude in the morning. He forgot his sleeping pad, and was freezing all night in his sleeping bag. 

Our second day was a killer. We needed to take all day Friday off and hike in to base camp ten miles, instead of the four. 

My brother, Justin, and his wife, Mya. Mya was a real trooper. I think she carried enough food in her pack for all five of us to eat for four days. As a teenager, she worked in Yellowstone on the trail crew. The crew's were managed by college students. One week, she had the unfortunate time of being with a insane, hard-core crew leader who thought it would be a great adventure not to pack food for the crew and let them live off the land, fishing and eating dandelion leaves. Needless to say, they were starving. Mya and her friend found half a jar of peanut butter in one of the saddle bags and devoured it in the woods with their bare hands. Since then, Mya has been paranoid about starving in the woods. Mya generously shared canned chicken wraps with ranch that day for lunch. 

King's Peak is far ahead of us. The trail in was really quite easy and flat, albeit long. 

Justin was kind enough to pack a tent and his fishing pole in. Will and I are minimalist when it comes to backpacking, or should I say, I am a minimalist. I learned what really was essential after working as a wilderness therapy guide for a whole summer. 

I was amazed at the erosion on this mountain. It looks like a tiered pyramid. 

Waiting for the rest of the crew. We left our packs at camp and began the ascent to conquer King's Peak. (I was still lugging the breast pump.)

Gunsight Pass. You can either go around the backside for a longer, more gradual climb, or take the shortcut scrambling up the scree on the mountain. We opted for the shortcut. 

Before the scramble up the mountain.

Dad, pausing to get his breath before surmounting another large boulder. This was not his favorite part of the hike.

This is on the pass, looking over the valley  on the other side of the mountain that we did not explore. I love the purplish hue of the mountains in shadow.

Another shot of the high-altitude barrenness. 

King's Peak, just waiting to be conquered. At this point, it was about four-thirty in the day. We had a decision to make, Justin and Mya were behind us, and we knew that it was going to be getting dark. We had at least two more miles to the top, but didn't want to be caught on the scree with nightfall. I was confident that Will and I could make it, but was doubtful about  the morale of the rest of the party. Also, Cole's sickness was starting to assail me. My throat was sore and my head congested. I recalled my mountaineering class in college. It was there that I learned there is no shame in turning back when conditions were not right. Safety is paramount. We decided to head down the mountain and wait to conquer King's another day. 

The best view of Dad. This is after an emotional moment as we're coming down the side of the mountain. All of us were tired, and the trip was especially difficult for Justin and Mya because they had lost Mya's brother, Body, the summer before on a hike. We were just glad Mya and Justin decided to come with us and not let the tragedy of their loss stop them from having other adventures.
We got back to camp around dusk. I remember looking for firewood and never feeling so miserable and spent. I had a really bad cold, and my head was pounding, but I was trying to still remain helpful. I crawled in my sleeping bag under our tarp to pump and I never got out until morning. My wonderful husband was kind enough to bring me dinner in bed. 

On the way out Sunday. 

Through the mucky-muck. 

Justin, gracefully maneuvering on a log. 

Will and I created a toilet paper finish line for my dad when he got back to the parking lot. We all made it back safe and sound. Taking off my boots never felt so good. Dad treated us to some great greasy hamburgers and shakes. Until next year, King's Peak!