Throwback Post: Gaining Mountain Chops in the Adirondacks Circa 2004-2011

For a while now, we've been wanting to put up a post about our early mountain experiences between 2004 and 2011 in the Adirondack Mountains of Upstate New York. Winter is a good time to dream of future adventures and engage in some reflection. So here it is...a look back on a prior chapter in our journey in the mountains.

Before Google decided to give the option to archive old "Google Sites" content, I'd forgotten that we did write-ups of our Adirondack 46-er and 46-er Winter projects. So, for the first time in years, here's the page listing our days on the rugged trails and peaks of the Adirondacks. I'm not sure if all links on the page work. If not, let me know.

Another artifact of those days is the article we submitted to Adirondack Peaks Magazine after we completed the Colorado 14ers in 2010. The text and photos of which are what follows. 

Adirondack Peaks Article: 46ers in the Colorado Rockies 
by John & Jennifer Danese

What started as a week-long trip to Colorado in July 2009 ended up leading us through the most amazing and satisfying experience of our lives. We remember when it all started, the peak-bagging and the pursuit of seemingly far-fetched goals, that is. I saw the book “Exploring the 46 Adirondack High Peaks” while browsing in a local bookstore and mentioned to Jennifer that it would be pretty neat to be able to do that...to become a 46er. It seemed out of reach at the time (late 2005), so we were really just thinking it might be fun to hike a few of them. We did Cascade on one of those perfect bluebird days in May 2006 and were instantly hooked. We were amazed when we learned that people climbed these mountains in winter, but by 2007, we were embarking on our first forays into climbing high peaks in the winter months, experimenting with and collecting the requisite gear and building up our endurance. We learned from others who answered Jennifer’s questions on the internet boards, from people we met on the trails and from experience we accumulated. By 2009, we had completed our all-season and winter rounds of the 46 ADK High Peaks, gaining an immense and satisfying sense of accomplishment and I think relief, that “the list” was completed. It was fun to plan and hike freely for the first time in a while...do whatever we liked best, rather than what we “needed”. But soon, another feeling began creeping in. What’s next? We needed a new goal. We still loved hiking in the ‘Dacks, but what else did we want to do? What was our next adventure? 

Completing the Winter 46 left us feeling very confident in our capabilities as a team. We were especially proud of our decision-making in the mountains. Our minds were wandering to the things that we might like to try in the future. Bigger mountains, bigger trips...we knew we didn’t have technical skills, but we’d come a long way since we did Cascade in May a few years prior. We starting thinking about maybe attempting something like Mt. Rainier, so we started wondering how we would handle higher elevations. We’d never hiked higher than 5344’. I’d been doing some business trips to Denver and sent home pictures of the Front Range at the western edge of Denver. Hmmm, Colorado has a lot of high mountains, maybe we’ll go climb some of them. One thing led to another and in early July 2009, we were headed to Breckenridge, CO for a week’s stay. Breckenridge is a great town with good access to some of the easier 14,000’ peaks of the Front and Sawatch Ranges. The town is at 10,000’ elevation, so you’re always acclimatized and it’s less than 2 hours from Denver airport. Plus, it has some excellent restaurants, which we utilized to the fullest for post-hike feasts! The day after we arrived, we climbed one of the easiest 14ers - Mt. Sherman. The drive in to the trailhead on a rough and bumpy dirt road was an adventure and quite different from back home. Starting off from the car, we both felt some anticipation. How would we do? How would the altitude affect us? Our legs were ready to go at the usual pace, but our lungs told us to slow it down a bit. We were slower and certainly more winded than normal, but we made the summit without any difficulties. One down, 53 more to go, we joked at the summit. We had absolutely no idea that 14 months later, we’d be atop our final Colorado 14er. Over the next five days, we hiked up 8 more 14ers, including Mts. Elbert and Massive, the two highest peaks in Colorado, the Democrat-Cameron-Lincoln-Bross four-pack, Huron and Quandary. All of the routes are non-technical and recommended for anyone who is reasonably fit. 

We were hooked on these mountains. The views were incredible and the experiences exhilarating. The sadness we felt driving out of Breckenridge toward Rt. 70 and the airport left us with no doubt that we would return. By October we were discussing a temporary move to Colorado and in early April 2010, we drove the 2000 miles to Breckenridge with our dogs and a truck full of our stuff, having rented a house for the next 7 months. Our plan was to focus on climbing 14ers and seeing as much of this jaw-droppingly beautiful place as we could cram in. Oh, and maintain our full-time jobs. Jennifer had a plan, as expected. Since we still had a solid 1½ months of winter conditions in the mountains and avalanche danger is a serious concern about which we knew next to nothing, we’d try to figure out which peaks we could safely explore until the avy danger diminished. So, we did some local hikes around Breckenridge, revisited the nearby 14er Quandary a few times, and also took a winter skills day-class with a guide. 

Jennifer acclimatizing in May on the Continental Divide near Breckenridge

On the first weekend in May we started hiking 14ers, or at least trying to. On Mt. Columbia we made it within ¾ of a mile and 1000’ from the top. Concern of thunderstorms and midday warming snow on a steep slope had us turn around. It was disappointing not to reach our goal, but we were very comfortable playing it conservative as the terrain and conditions were all new to us. We were learning as we went and trusting our gut instincts. The next weekend we made it to the summit of Humboldt Peak, a milestone as it was our first 14er this trip. It was still very much winter conditions and we used both snowshoes and crampons. Start times were earlier than back home. A 3:30 am start time for just a regular dayhike (to avoid warm afternoon snow on open slopes and afternoon thunderstorms). And, the terrain was quite different from back home. Many miles and hours above treeline. And the scale of everything is Big. Huge. Impossible to describe. It had a very different feel to it than being back home, but it was wonderfully challenging and exhilarating. 

In mid-May we got turned around a second time on Mt. Columbia for avy concern and it turned out the next day there was a slide on a nearby peak. By Memorial Day weekend, we were finally starting to see signs that non-winter conditions may be approaching. 

Our plan was to get to the hardest peaks during July and August, when we would be solidly acclimatized, fittest and the weather should be best. We did break from the plan early on, though to go for Little Bear Peak the first weekend in June. Little Bear is a peak in the southern Sangre de Cristo Range, which many consider the most dangerous of all the 14ers. Its’ reputation is due not to the difficulty of the climb, but to the high risk of rockfall, which gets funneled down the steep 45 degree gully (called The Bowling Alley or the Hourglass) which leads to the summit. We decided that we wanted to get up Little Bear when there was still snow in the Hourglass so that the chance of rockfall would be lower. It was our biggest challenge to date, starting at 1:30am from our car camp. Such an early start time was chosen because we wanted to get up and down the Hourglass before the snow and ice got soft and the rocks started releasing. 

Ascending the Hourglass on Little Bear

It was hard and scary, and we made good use of our crampons and ice-axe skills on the steep traverse along the ridge and in the notorious gully. As with most challenges, what a great feeling it was to get through it! We felt triumphant (not at the summit, but once we had descended) with our success and like we had made a progression to a next level of accomplishment and experience. A sad note is that about a month later, a young climber lost his life, when he fell in the Bowling Alley. 

Snow continued to be a challenge into mid-June, but we were making steady progress, getting out and climbing 2-3 days each weekend. By the July 4th weekend, we were ready to tackle what we saw as the hardest peak left in our list...Capitol Peak, in the Elks Range, outside of Aspen. Search for “Capitol Peak Knife Edge” on YouTube and you’ll see part of the reason for its reputation. We hiked in to camp at the base of this strikingly beautiful mountain the day prior to our attempt with fellow ADK 46er, Steve Dunbar, and gazed up in awe at the challenge ahead of us until we retired to our tents. 

Capitol Peak from our campsite

The 2.5 mile climb to the summit started at 4:00 am the next day - a glorious, clear July 4th. The climb to the summit took 4 1/2 hours of almost constant intense concentration as it involved a lot of Class 3/Class 4 scrambling over large, often loose talus, and high to extreme exposure, where a fall would certainly be fatal. We thought back to being intimidated by the “cliffs” of Saddleback not so long ago. Capitol was a measuring stick that we used to gauge how we felt about being able to complete the rest of the CO 14ers. We felt that if we could handle this mountain, we could do the rest, at least from a skills perspective. We were continually challenging and pushing ourselves, and at various times one or the other would feel uncertain. We really learned to break these situations into small bits. Setting small milestones/goals that we could reach and then re-assess to see if we felt comfortable moving forward or wanted to change the plan.  

A few weeks later, we went back to the Elks for another of the legendary 14er challenges about which we had been anxious...the Maroon Bells. Maroon and North Maroon Peaks and their companion across the valley, Pyramid Peak are notorious for their crumbly red sedimentary rock, which can give-way on you, or fall on you from above. They are world famous because of their beauty and are easily photographed after a short drive from downtown Aspen. Along with Steve, we car-camped for two days in the parking lot and fresh from our success on Capitol, decided to do the two “Deadly Bells” together on day 1 by climbing Maroon, then traversing over to North Maroon. It’s considered one of the four “Great 14er Traverses” and it did not disappoint. It challenged all of the confidence we’d built up on Capitol and provided us with the best day of climbing we had on our entire adventure. It’s a memory that will last our lives. 

The Maroon Bells

We said to each other many times during and after that day that there was no way we could have been able to do that were it not for the experience we’d gained on previous hikes and climbs. It challenged us physically and mentally and our decision-making dynamics as a team. Toward the end of the summer season, tragically, another climber lost his life, when he was hit by rockfall, attempting the traverse. These events were frightening to hear about and major eye-openers for us. A total of 10 climbers were killed on the same mountains we climbed that season. 

Next we learned something else new. Colorado has a “monsoon season” and this year it lasted from about the last week in July through August. During this time, the weather patterns are very unstable as moisture from the Gulf of California gets pushed over the Southwest and dumps when it hits the Rockies. The instability theme carried from the weather patterns to the ground conditions, where the rain water caused the ground to soften and already loose and crumbling mountainsides to become even more dangerous. Several more people were killed in rockfall during this time. This weather pattern wreaked havoc with our plans to get the most difficult and dangerous peaks completed before September when the chance of snow would begin to loom. We spent more time than usual during this time checking weather throughout the state, trying to avoid bad weather and the loosest of terrain and maintaining multiple alternate plans each week. We also were burdened with significant doubts that we would be able to achieve our goal, since we were turned back on summit attempts on more than one occasion, putting us behind our planned schedule. We took what the weather gave us and climbed some of the easier and nearby peaks of the Front and Sawatch Ranges (which we had been saving for exactly this type of weather delay), before heading out at the end of August for our last set of the hardest peaks. 

The Wilson Group is comprised of El Diente Peak, Mt. Wilson and Wilson Peak, which is famously depicted on Coors Light cans. They are the westernmost 14ers in the San Juan Range, just outside of Telluride and not too far from the Utah border. It took us about 6 hours to drive to the trailhead in heavy rain and thunderstorms the night before our attempt. We had multiple options for our climb day. It’s most common to do them in two or three days, but there is also a single day route. If we got the right weather, we knew we could do the single day route. It’s a big day, but we can do long days just as long we’re not trying to outrun lightning! The key was the weather, the forecast was for a good day and if that held by what we saw in the sky, we would go for all 3 in one day. We started at 3:30 am on a cold and damp morning and summited our first peak of the day, El Diente, at 8:30 am. The weather was looking fine so we made the decision to continue along to the next peak. To get to Mt. Wilson we would complete our 2nd of the 4 Great Traverses. It was a fun route with some nice Class 4 scrambling. On top of Mt. Wilson, we again assessed weather and decided that we were going to attempt to get the three-pack in a single day. The hike covered 19 miles and 6900’ feet of ascent in 17 hours. We knew it would be hard, but the drive and approach are long and we didn’t want to risk having to come back out here for another trip in a week or two. Completing the Wilson Group felt like a huge weight had been lifted and we then knew that we were going to complete our quest to climb all 58 of the mountains we had set out to. We were at 52 with only a half a dozen easy peaks to go and it wasn’t even September yet. Even if snow came, we’d be able to do the rest! 

On September 4, we finally stood atop Mt. Columbia (the peak we had turned around on twice in May!) on a beautiful day and celebrated all that we’d done, learned and experienced together in the mountains. We had done it! It was one of the best days of both of our lives. The adventure, the experiences, the sights are truly priceless. For anyone who’s enjoyed the Adirondacks and has climbed some of the 46ers, I’d recommend getting out to Colorado and doing at least a 14er or two. The scenery is so spectacular, I haven’t even tried describing it here, since I just don’t have the skills. Be cautious, plan, ask questions (www.14ers.com is a great resource with active and helpful forums), be respectful of the dangers, but don’t be intimidated that you can’t do it physically. There are plenty of options that are straight-forward walk-ups with outstanding trails. Getting up Mt. Marcy is harder than some of them.

Recommended reading: “Halfway to Heaven: My White-knuckled -- and Knuckleheaded Quest for Rocky Mountain High” by Mark Obmascik is fun and informative. “Colorado’s Fourteeners: From Hikes to Climbs” by Jerry Roach is the 14ers bible, full of trailhead and route info, as well as a healthy dose of Roach’isms which are well known in the Colorado 14er community.

A Longevity in Sport Recipe: Anecdotal guidelines for staying stoked and fit into later years.

Here's a link to John's article for Gnarly Nutrition. A Longevity in Sport Recipe: Anecdotal guidelines for staying stoked and fit into later years. Rock on, rockstars!

https://gognarly.com/a-longevity-in-sport-recipe-anecdotal-guidelines-for-staying-stoked-and-fit-into-later-years/

Gnarly Nutrition on Nolan's 14

Here’s a link to the Gnarly Nutrition article on John’s Nolan’s 14.

https://gognarly.com/the-mind-boggling-nolans-14-challenge/

 

 

 

Summer of Nolan’s: Part 3

(Link to previous posts Summer of Nolan's: Part 1  and  Summer of Nolan's: Part 2)

Attempt #3: September 2, 2020: The ONE that WENT!

I drove around to the Avalanche TH on a blazing hot afternoon, it felt oddly hot for early September. Our good friend Brandt had come out again to pace John and he arrived to Avalanche TH with enough time to get up to the summit of Yale and meet John. I knew this would be a HUGE boost for John. I had told John at Cottonwood to possibly expect Brandt at Avalanche TH, but to be prepared in case something had come up and he couldn’t make it. But John never expected to see Brandt on Yale. I’ll leave it to John to tell the story, but there may have been a few tears. I was down below in the camper getting everything set for his arrival. It was a spectacular sunset that evening and then quickly a full moonrise. John and Brandt rolled into Avalanche at 10:00pm. The irony that this is the attempt that eventually succeeded and yet his slowest into Avalanche by 1:40-1:55. Mac & cheese was eaten, socks and shoes were changed, Gnarly Vegan and BCAA’s were drank. The turnaround at Avalanche was 78 minutes including 30 minutes of John lying down that resulted in maybe 15 minutes of rest, loosely "sleep". He was coughing a lot at this point and it really stopped any hope of sleep, but at least there was rest. Stats at this point: 66 miles with 30,000’ of ascent in 42:08. Off they go into the night up and over Princeton. A few weeks ago I had sent John off on one Saturday night just after Attempt #2 to scout Princeton in the dark (minimizing the factors that had caused failure previously), this was immensely helpful in giving confidence and familiarity of this bushwack in the dark. I watched the little dot make steady progress all night long and I was so proud of John. It is such an incredible effort at this point to simply keep moving forward. What would be easy peasy on fresh legs and a fresh mind can be mind boggling difficult. The head games that happen, your mind will do everything to get you to stop, to tell you there is no progress being made and it’s futile. Throughout the summer John would talk about how easy it would be to “just” go do a 100-miler trail race. That something even as difficult as that is truly easy in comparison to Nolan’s. It is hard to convey the difficultly level. Even to someone with experience running 100-mile trail races. It’s many multiples of that. The terrain, endless rock hopping and scree filled gullies, the continuous mental and physical challenges. 

Avalanche TH Crew Spot + spectacular sunset

After laying down in the camper for 30 minutes, downing several cups of Annie’s macaroni and cheese, Gnarly vegan and BCAAs, Brandt and I were out of Avalanche and on the road in the dark for 2 miles, before rejoining the CO Trail for the long hike to the base of Mt Princeton’s East Ridge. On the road, the driver of a pickup truck threw a mostly empty beer can at me and hit me in the ass. Great shot, but what an anti-social loser it takes to do something like that for no reason to another person other than some sort of misplaced anger. His problem. Not mine, fortunately.

At the point where we turn off the CO Trail and begin our bushwhack, we decided to take a 15 minute forest nap before climbing. I went out immediately. Never slept so soundly on dirt and rocks. May never again. My scouting of this route on Mt Princeton at night really gave me confidence this time, and other than my moving slowly over the big talus sections along the long ridge, everything went well. We even found the hiking pole I’d lost on my scouting mission a few weeks ago. BONUS! Princeton’s East Ridge is close to 3 miles in length 4,000’ of ascent, thick bushwhacking, rock hopping and scrambling. It goes on for a long time.

Mt. Princeton's East Ridge at sunrise

John making his way up Mt. Princeton's East Ridge

I drove out to Buena Vista in the early morning to get gas and got to talk with John from the summit of Princeton. It had been a long night, but he made it over Princeton, they were eating and then starting down to Alpine. It was a picture perfect Colorado blue morning and I felt really happy, I knew the finish was in reach in a way it hadn’t been all summer. There was still a really long way to go, and a lot of hard work, but in reach. I also knew that 60 hours was out the window, and I was completely okay with that and I knew John was as well. Completing the line in one push held a lot of value for John. We had spent a lot of time talking about that, what his goals were, what was meaningful to him. And a finish in one push was always valuable and important to him. If it had happened inside 60 hours it would have be incredible, but that was always a super duper stretch, stretch, stretch goal.

We had the summit of Mt Princeton all to ourselves when we arrived at 7:09am, just as the sun was warming things up enough for us to lay down to attempt a 10 minute snooze without having to put all of our extra layers on. At 7:12am several excited hikers from Arkansas arrived to find two guys napping on the summit. Brandt explained and entertained them and I ignored the whole thing with my buff and sunglasses over my eyes.

Taking the direct route down these big mountains isn’t always pretty, but if you master scree surfing technique, it can be pretty fast and kinda fun, until it’s not. So, here’s Brandt and me demonstrating “proper” technique on our descent of Mt. Princeton via Blake’s Fast Scree Gulley (named after one of the original finishers, the one and only Blake Wood)

·                  Brandt: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAeDZqz9o4I

John: https://youtu.be/ufmvZD88TbY

I headed off to Alpine TH to get setup for the guys to arrive. Again, today it was hot, hot, hot and all blue, not a single cloud in the sky. Nice not to worry about storms, but maybe a shade cloud here and there sure would be nice for them. 

Infinite Colorado Blue - Mt Princeton Center

John and Brandt rolled into Alpine TH at 10:53am and we turned it around in 38 minutes with shoe/sock change, change into shorts, blisters tended to, shin impact injury from back at Pine Creek finally looked at and bandaged up, mac & cheese eaten, Gnarly Vegan and Pre drank. Current stats were at: 83 miles with 35,200’ of ascent in 55:27. And now off for the LAST LEG! It’s a long one at 17 miles and 10,000’ of ascent, but it’s still the last leg! I walked with John and Brandt for a bunch of miles up the Antero jeep road. It was so good to chat and catch up with them about how the past 12 hours had gone. Sometimes I find it tough to be only on the logistics/organizing/prepping/endless details side and feel I’m missing out on the adventure side of things. So, these miles I get to share are a really great change up. 

 

We passed several northbound Nolan’s attempters and everyone cheered each other on. I had run some numbers and knew that it was still possible for John to get 12 peaks within 60 hours, so was encouraging him to keep the best pace he could up to Antero. Despite it being brutally hot in the midday pure Colorado blue and having been on the go for over 56 hours, he was still cranking uphill at 1,200’ per hour. Not too shabby! John was in really good spirits and the three of us had a lot of fun joking around and hanging out on that stretch. Eating had become a non-favorite activity for John, so I did my best to just encourage a handful of Fritos here and a handful of peanut M&Ms there, just a little bit to get something in, he did a really good job with that. I hate when it’s time for me to turn around and go back to the truck, and too soon that time came and I said goodbyes and see you at Blanks! And of course – Nail your Nav! It was a so perfect seeming at that point, beautiful weather, getting close to Antero, seemed like it would smooth sailing ahead. There were going to be bumps ahead, but it sure didn’t seem that way at the time I left. I walked back down the Antero road to the TH passing along a stretch that I had walked in June while John was scouting Princeton. In June on that road, I had the distinct feeling that he could do this, that we could do this, complete this mountain project. I felt it. And now, after a lot of hard work and perseverance and grit and determination, it was actually coming true. That’s a feeling right there. 

Nolan's 14 elevation over distance

 

As soon as I got back into cell range, I checked the Spot to see where they were and I watched them do a u-turn on the Antero ascent. Panic. What is going on? Is there a medical emergency? I imagined one of them suffering from heat stroke in that brutal sun, maybe they were trying to drop down to Browns Creek to get to water and cool down. Refresh the Spot dot. Refresh. Refresh. Watch them go back to the jeep road and take the standard route up. Not understanding, but at least everything seems okay as they are still heading for Antero summit. Turns out they had run into some active mining at that exact spot of the shortcut and had to turn around, losing both time on the clock and ascent that had already been climbed. That cost John being able to get to the 12^th peak within 60 hours. Then I watch the dark clouds gather around the remaining 3 peaks. Literally blue sky and not a cloud anywhere but over the final 3 peaks. Noooooo, is this a repeat of 2018 where John got caught in an ice storm below Antero for 3 hours. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. They hung out for a bit and then ran for the Antero summit and got back down. Now we all knew the ascent of the north face of Tabeguache Peak would be completely in the dark, and that’s certainly not how it looked like it would roll out a couple hours ago, nor what was hoped for.

Problems on Mt. Antero brought my 2018 attempt to an end and I had some similar problems that cost a lot of time this go-round. First, we were ascending the 13,800’ sub-summit that has a lot of active mining claims with the intent of intersecting with an informal mining trail that wraps around to the Antero summit ridge, just before the section called Devil’s Backbone. As we climbed the steep, loose talus, Brandt yelled from up above that he’d run into new, unexpected mining developments and a large backhoe was excavating nearby. What should we do? Go ahead and try to find the trail that we were looking for and risk unfriendly and possibly armed miners unhappy with trespassers on their claims, or retreat back down to the Jeep road and take the longer standard route up Antero? I decided on the conservative sure thing, but longer option of retreating back down to the road. It was demoralizing, especially since I was still hoping to at least bag Antero (summit #12) in 60 hours. I still had a shot, but it would be close. We had to walk further on the hot Jeep road, but we did a good job of deciding to put it behind us pretty quickly.

Antero wasn’t finished with me yet, though. It struck again with an un-forecasted storm that appeared out of nowhere to blow graupel and thunder on us for an hour. Brandt’s hiking poles went electric and shocked his hands, freaking him out. We both threw our poles away from ourselves and hunkered down with arms around shins, trying to be as small of a lightning target as possible. Exposed on a steep, rocky slope at 14,000’ is exactly where you don’t want to be in a thunderstorm. I called Jennifer on the phone and she talked us into making a run for the summit, which was just 100’ above. We eventually did, scoring my 12^th summit, which was a new high-water mark for me in my Nolan’s attempts, but we got held up just enough to not get it in 60 hours. Random goal anyway. It would have been nice to hit that milestone, but time didn’t matter that much to me anymore. After the storm eased up on Antero, we could see that it had moved across the Brown’s Creek valley to focus on our next mountain, Tabeguache, and the precise face we were to ascend. 

 

Approaching Devil's Backbone with storm gathering on Mt. Antero

Descending Mt. Antero

I watched the Spot dot move down Antero to Browns Creek and I was mentally trying to will it to move as fast it could knowing every minute of daylight was valuable. Once again I found myself at Blanks TH, painfully similar to 2018, it was almost déjà vu. In 2018 on John’s Nolan’s attempt, two factors converged that created a lot of anxiety, fear, and uncertainty for me about his safety. An unforecasted and very unexpected storm rolled in at 8:00 pm on his way up Antero solo (and resulted in him sitting for 3 hours at 13k trying to wait the storm out) and simultaneously the Spot gps unit died. I spent 7’ish hours on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing if he was okay, hurt or unable to move, or where he was. Now in 2020, it felt like things were headed down the same road. I was exhausted at this point. Sounds silly to even write that in light of what John is experiencing at this point. But, I was exhausted. I had only been sleeping in short stretches up to this point and it had caught up with me and I passed out. I woke up with John calling from the summit of Tabeguache Peak and I was so, so, so incredibly happy to know that both he and Brandt were safely on top. The route from there is easy and safe. Everyone was going to be okay. That is literally all I cared about.

As Brandt and I made our way off Antero and down into the Browns Creek drainage via a deep ravine, the storm was rekindled above us and we realized that we might get wet again and that we would be climbing Tabeguache (peak #13) in the dark. After the first time I’d scouted this route up Tabegauche in 2018, I told Jennifer that it was steep, a bit sketchy with loose rock, but not a problem, as long as it wasn’t wet. Well, now I was concerned it was going to be wet and in the dark.

Route up Tabeguache Peak

The uncertain storm clouds all around made for a gorgeous scene at sunset, but thankfully the storm had now moved off our ascent route and it was dry when we began our climb. As darkness fell and we were not 100% sure the storm would not fire up again, we were both concerned about starting this climb, which often is a 45% grade or steeper slope, and possibly getting hit by the storm again in the dark. Unable to see the clouds in the dark, we kept our eyes peeled for stars and as we hit the base of the steep sections, one by one, stars appeared. The climb that in scouting (daylight) took me 1.5 hours, took almost 3.5 hours, but we made it safely to the summit, keeping our humor along the way. At one point, high up the steep side of the mountain, one of my hiking poles got almost inextricably stuck for way too long and Brandt, enjoying my predicament way too much, took some video. The video makes it look like almost flat ground, but actually we were high up on the extremely steep north face of Tabeguache Peak.  https://youtu.be/SBidw1S7Tfc  Good news…my nail polish still looked fabulous even after digging through rocks! 

Finally, at the summit of Tabeguache Peak (#13), all the challenging parts and questions of whether I’d finish the line were behind. All that was left was a quick hike down to the saddle between Tab and a few hundred feet to the final peak, Mt. Shavano and then the hike down the mountain to the Blanks Trailhead. It was just a matter to time and putting one foot in front of the other. No more route-finding, no more worrying about the weather, no more overly rugged terrain. But first, Brandt was delirious, so he took a 10-minute nap on the summit of Tab, while I called Jennifer. When he awoke, he’d forgotten who I was. This is the weird shit that happens when you’re severely sleep-deprived, physically and mentally exhausted, in the dark and at high altitude for long periods. I didn’t miss the opportunity to make fun of him, making sure that he heard me when I told Jenn that “what’s his name and I are fine and heading over to Shavano”.

After all we’d been through, summitting Shavano an hour or so later, at 1:08am was anti-climactic. It was a relief.

Mt. Shavano Summit

Sleeping meant I couldn’t get up as high as I wanted to to meet John, but I knew he had Brandt with him, and Adam and his dog Honey Girl were meeting them up near Mt. Shavano (#14). I met all of them about 15 minutes up the trail and big hugs for everyone. It was really good spirits at that point. I was getting filled in on all that happened since I left last them. And then, almost like a surprise, we were at the Blanks TH sign. The FINISH. I actually hadn’t even been thinking about it or getting ready to take pictures, I was so focused on hearing about the challenges from the night before.

 

Oh that feeling of coming into the Blanks Trailhead at the end of this rugged journey of 72+ hours of almost constant movement! I’d pictured this moment for years and studied others’ photos of their arrival at this terminus of the traditional southbound Nolan’s 14 route, trying to imagine the sense of relief and immense satisfaction and accomplishment they must have felt at moment. Multiple times in past years, between multiple close-but-no-cigar Nolan’s 14 attempts and two High Lonesome 100 races (where Blanks is an aid station I get to in the middle of the night), Jennifer had to do the long and rough round trip to the Blanks trailhead alone. Not this time. This time, I’d see her, we’d celebrate and enjoy the drive out…together.

I’d  been happily distracted most of the hike down from the summit of Mt Shavano, talking with Adam McRoberts, who’d hiked all the way with his pup Honey Girl and 3 of the most glorious cans of Coca Cola ever made it to the summit to meet Brandt and me in the middle of the night. About 10 minutes from the end, Jennifer and Adam’s fiancé Beth met us and added to the emotional distraction that I was about to complete Nolan’s 14. When I approached the Blanks Trailhead sign, it all just hit me at once, tears came, and I almost collapsed. As far as I can recall, it may be the best single moment of my life. Relief and gratitude washed over me, and I knew I could finally STOP. It was over. We did it! WOW! Hell YEAH!!!!

The Finish

I always marveled at anyone who made multiple serious attempts on the Nolan’s line, especially in one season. Having a flavor of how brutally difficult it is from my previous attempts in 2016 and 2018, it’s often hard for me to imagine going back. And yet this summer, I made 3 attempts, along with re-scouting the entire line in June. Even now, the numbers are staggering to me. Just this year, I summitted these 14 peaks 48 times and over the course of the past four years, 92 times. That sounds obsessive, but that’s really not a dominant trait in me. I fully expected to tire of the line as I considered each subsequent attempt, but after Jennifer and I committed to another attempt, my excitement grew, and I was re-energized to get going again. I generally tire of repeating the same routes and yearn to explore the new, but the challenge that Nolan’s 14 presents allows for creativity and nuance in tweaking your line each time and is so vast, rugged and difficult that it is always a rare adventure. Plus, the prospect of possibly becoming one of the few who have completed this line in a single push, stoked my ego and held the promise of the reward of immense satisfaction in the knowledge that I can persevere through significant discomfort that often dipped into some level of self-imposed suffering and come back from repeated failure. I learned that I’m cautious in the mountains. I was prodding my way deeper and deeper into the line with each attempt and only when I was comfortable was I able to proceed further. I learned that I needed help of a trusted partner to get through the latter stages. I learned that I have a toughness that I can call upon that is inspired by and would make my peasant immigrant grandparents proud.

    
 

In his very own words: It's Hard. Video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9Q5JJi4peE&feature=youtu.be

I had perfect Team Kick Ass (TKA) crew support in the form of Jennifer, who organized, packed, created lists of split times for me to reference, made encouraging signs in red marker and post-its that were stealthily stashed in my packs and taped to the camper walls, left me audio messages of support, love and encouragement that I was encouraged to listen to when things got rough, thought through every detail of my training and nutrition, slept minimally, worried about me, hiked and lugged gear for miles to crew me, pushed me when I needed to be pushed, gave me understanding and acceptance when I didn't and danced for me in the wilderness. I couldn't think to ask for anything else. 

We all sat around in the Blanks parking lot at 4:00 am sharing stories and drinks and food. Apologies to any campers we may have woken up or bothered. Just before the sun came up, we all went to sleep for a couple hours. Not for long though as John had been dreaming about, and incessantly telling Brandt for the last several hours, one of his favorite breakfasts that he could not wait to have, Huevos Rancheros. So, off we all went to breakfast and some catching up with good friends. It all felt just perfect.  

Final Stats: 100 miles with 44,561’ of ascent (and 44,561’ of descent, don’t discount that downhill!) in 72:13.

Pacers: Brandt Ketterer Yale to Blanks. Adam McRoberts Shavano to Blanks.

Crew: Jennifer   

Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/4025156476 

Do Big Things Podcast with Jennifer & John: https://open.spotify.com/episode/4RdqdHv1NuTvSiCYsNzTkJ

 

Post Nolan’s

Believe it or not, both John and I have experienced a feeling of let down to be finished. That the project is done. I never would have guessed that! I think we both got very used to pushing, pushing, pushing in various ways all summer long, and that being gone felt odd, like an empty space. Of course, there are also feelings of satisfaction, relief, and joy, but the let down surprised us both. When we left on Attempt #3, it had been less than 2 weeks since we had put our dog Bella down. The loss, grieving, sadness and pain had all been put on hold for a few days. They all returned the minute we pulled in our driveway. The next several days we felt very tossed around by so many various emotions.

You would think John would just pass out and sleep soundly for days. That first night was a very restless and fitful night of trying to sleep. John was very emotional, processing though his experiences, tears at times, remembering fear and uncertainty going up Tabeguache Peak in the dark, grateful at times for all those who had helped him. The first few nights he described pain from tip to toe, a throbbing throughout his entire body. It's interesting the processing the body and mind go through after an event of this length. We've found for John there is a distinct difference between going for less than 50 hours or greater than 50 hours. He recovered from his 2 earlier attempts (<50 hours) in a day or two. At 72 hours this time, his body and mind are fully depleted. All the emotions and experiences are pouring out and being felt and processed. A whole body and soul experience. The complete exhaustion was visible on his face for many days. He was exhausted for about 2 weeks, with no activities beyond a short, slow stroll in the backyard, and taking as many naps as he could. Drained. 

Complete Exhaustion: 48 hours post finish

 

John fared really well overall on physical injuries. He had significant round the clock coughing for the better part of the week following his finish. Just a lung overuse injury. His feet were really on the good end of the scale, he’d lost enough toenails early in the season so that blisters weren’t a big issue on his toes. Post Nolan’s he had significant and expected swelling in his lower legs, ankles and feet for about a week. He was walking around well and descending stairs sort of normally (always the benchmark test!) within a week'ish. His worst injury was the shin injury from slamming into a rock around hour 26. This may be what slowed him down from previous attempts. 

 

Max Cankle

 

The first few days following I do have trouble sleeping. I am often woken up by the feeling of suffocating, pop straight up, and then have to sit on the side of the bed for a while to calm down. The only other time I’ve experience this was after my 2018 attempt. 

Emotions were a mixture of everything under the sun. Relief, joy and gratitude were always front and center, but many times out of the blue often in the middle of the night, I'd have a flowing release of tears. These were when the underlying emotions that I'd had to bottle up during the attempt just had to escape. I let these feelings of fear, uncertainty, anxiety, stress flow freely in an intertwined torrent when they needed to. They are all part of this extraordinary experience. 

Physically, my lower leg swelling had a dramatic change after about 4 days. In one 24 hour period, I lost 10 pounds of water weight, getting me back to my normal weight and the veins re-appeared in my shins and calves, ankles and feet. I had a GP doctor look at my shin wound and she put me on a precautionary round of antibiotics. Stitches might have been called for, but it was too late for that. A week out, I was still having aching pain below the wound in my ankle and foot, so I saw my orthopedist and had x-rays, which were negative. Looks nasty, but all good. 

  

I’m deeply humbled by this experience and by those who have finished the Nolan’s 14 line. It is supremely difficult. I’m grateful for having the freedom, support, and ability at age 51 to have given it a serious attempt, let alone finish it, albeit slowly in the latter stages, which for me are the last 4 peaks.

I often compare John’s Nolan’s journey to levels of school. That first attempt, Nolan's 2016 (7 Summits, Fish Hatchery to Pine Creek) in 2016 was Junior High. It would have been a real Hail Mary if he finished that year, he hadn’t even set foot on the entire course, but more than anything I viewed it as an opportunity for experience and getting a feel for the size of the project. And it was successful in both of those ways. His next attempt, Nolan's 2018 (11 summits, Fish Hatchery to a thousand feet below the summit of Antero) was like undergraduate college. He really knew the route, the navigation, the scope of the project. And then this year, he earned his Masters degree. He made the route is own, tweaking sections to fit his strengths and knowing it inside and out, being comfortable and confident out there on his own. Some say it’s harder in the N>S direction, I don’t know if that’s true. And it seems the current most popular direction tends to go back and forth over time. 

Leadville to Salida the Hardest Way: Nolan's 14

 

I believe that a sub-60 hour finish is not possible for John, I now have enough data to know that. Going off his multiple attempts this summer, I’d say 66-67 hours is the best he could do, with 63-64 hours to the last summit. On Attempt #3, he came into Avalanche 2 hours later than his best time this summer, so there is 2 hours to be made up. I estimate he lost about an hour on the Antero u-turn and 30 minutes waiting for the storm on Antero. These delays on Antero forced the Tabeguache Peak ascent completely in the dark which added an hour+ to the time. All of this is in a perfect Nolan’s run which tends to not exist. And none of it matters, as the numbers don’t get him to sub-60 hours. 

Split Times  

Nolan's is so may challenges in one, every one insanely hard physically, mentally, emotionally, you name it. We can make the challenge what we want and what suits our goals and abilities. I put the attempts into 3 categories:

1. Those going unsupported and doing it in <60hrs.
2. Various levels of support for <60
3. Damn the time, I'm just going to finish the damn line in a single push

Until my last attempt, I was pursuing #2, but the numbers don't lie and I came to the realization that I'm a #3 guy. And let me tell you, that's DAMN hard. If everything goes perfectly, my best is probably mid-60s. It's probably a combination of a lot of variables, including the fact that I'm on the downhill side of 51. That doesn't make me a decrepit old fart, but I ain't 41 anymore. I'm not so sure I'd have made 60 hrs at 41 with the same training and diet, but 10 years additional on the odometer certainly isn't an advantage. Knowing exactly what this involves and how utterly beat up I still am after finishing, I'm supremely satisfied with 72 hours (for me). 

 

Nolan’s 14 may look like a solo event, but this is teamwork at its best. Special thank you’s to:

My wife coach and support and total partner in this, Jennifer - I know and appreciate how much you've sacrificed to support the pursuit of this dream.

Brandt Ketterer - You came a long way in the middle of the night to meet me and encourage me in the Avalanche parking lot twice before you helped me from Yale to Blanks for my finish. There are only a few I trust as much as you in the mountains!

Adam McRoberts - You told me "anytime, anywhere". First you came all the way up from Boulder when I was having trouble on attempt #2. I know you would've seen me through, if I'd made it over Princeton to you on that attempt. And then you met us at 14,000' on Shavano in the middle of the night to bring us down off the last mountain. You are a Trail Angel and a Great Friend, man.

Julian and Lisa Smith - You're just lovely people and touched me with your generosity to introduce me to this incredible challenge. Julian, your humility and quiet toughness inspires me.

John "Sharpie" Sharp for pacing me overnight out of Winfield and sharing endless stories with Texas flavor and engaging me in that rarest of experiences these days, thoughtful political conversation and seeking common ground.

Traci Clark for always taking loving care of our crazy old lady, Bella, at a moment's notice. We could not do what we do without you.

Sarah, Dr. John and Alyssa at Frisco Chiropractic Health and Acupuncture who always got me in for pre-attempt and recovery treatments, and even offered to come out to give me acupuncture during my attempt. You guys rock!

All who tried these routes before me and generously shared their knowledge and inspiration. What is being done now pales in comparison to what the original runners did back in 1999-2001. There was no collective knowledge base to research. They are the real trail blazers, who figured this thing out from scratch. Blake Wood, Gordon Hardman, Fred Vance, Steve Simmons, Matt Mahoney, Eric Robinson, Jim Nolan, Joe Florio, Mike Tilden,  John Robinson, Jim Nelson, Ginny LaForme, Steve Bremner, Dennis Herr, Hans Dieter Weisshaar, Simon Shadowlight and Batsy Kalmeyer --- Respect and thank you for seeking adventure and providing inspiration to try audacious things. I’m very proud to call several of you my friends.

Gnarly Nutrition for fueling me through training, recovery, attempt, recovery, attempt, recovery, success! I learned about Gnarly through my buddy Teague Holmes and their products have proved top notch at every step.

UltraSpire for the Zygos 4.0 and Epic packs which I used for all my time in the mountains.

Succeed S!Caps which we have used forever. Trail Toes cream and tape for the best foot care and prevention. Tailwind for awesome calories in the bladder. Black Diamond for the 2010 Icon headlamp which we have found to beat anything currently available, and which Brandt dubbed the "Tractor Beam". Saucony for bringing a good Peregrine version back (after a bunch of crappy ones). I used the Peregrine v10 ST for a majority of my hours out there and they did not let me down with outstanding traction on all terrain and durability to withstand the punishment. 

The Finish Line

  

Thank you everyone for all your love, support, and cheering! We felt the love and it gives us such energy. You guys are all so awesome. John DID IT!! I just couldn't be prouder. To go back to the line three times in one summer is still hard for me to comprehend. It's been a beast of a project and a true adventure. Limits were tested, adventure was had. It was a crazy, inspiring, fun, intimidating ride, and I'm glad we took it. I remember learning of Nolan's in 2012 and being so blown away and impressed. How amazing to actually give it a go.

TKA

 

This blog and our entire summer of adventure in the mountains is dedicated to our Bella girl. We all loved our time on the trails and in the mountains together. There was never a more enthusiastic adventure partner. We miss you so much Bella.   

 

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