The year was 2004. The mountain was the second highest in the continental US. And I was a 12 year old, determined to summit with my family. After an early morning wakeup call and a breakfast of oatmeal (it sticks to your insides) and beans (power food), we made our way to the trailhead of Mount Elbert. Our home in Colorado is at the base of Mount Elbert on its other side, so you could say I’d been eyeing its summit for a while. My mom, dad, brother, and I were excited for the challenge. Munching on trail mix, hopping over boulders, and finding then discarding walking sticks made for a pleasant morning. We were making good time, and the summit was in sight.
That’s when the skies turned an ominous shade of gray and the clouds in the distance crept a bit closer.
My brother and dad were a good bit ahead of me and my mom at this point, but we could still see them as the rain started. At nearly 14,000 feet in elevation, the top of the mountain is not where you want to find yourself during a thunderstorm, so it didn’t take much to understand that we would not be summiting that day. As all the other hikers began turning around, we decided we would head back, too, and hoped the boys would do the same.
It was at this moment that the sky really opened up and God let out all the rain that dry Colorado needed on top of us. Going into mama bear survival mode, my mom ushered me ahead with a Boy Scout troop to get me to tree line. There were dozens of panicked adults and crying children; people were frightened.
My mom soon rendezvoused with me in relative safety under the trees and we sang Dixie Chicks as we calmly but swiftly made our way to the bottom. Her confidence was a blessing. From her example, I learned how to accept anxiety without letting it debilitate me. She showed me how to push through fear and keep moving.
About an hour after we reached our car, my brother and dad (finally!) arrived. We ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches intended for the top as we drove back home. We were wet, a little shaken, but okay.
In the years since, I’ve hiked innumerable times, summited a fourteener, and channeled my mom’s resilience on and off the trail. I haven’t given Mount Elbert another try, yet. But it’s on my list.