Sitting here in Knoxville the day after Thanksgiving 2014 I seem to have come full circle as far as Cotopaxi goes. The last post on this site was in September 2013…guess I wasn’t very good about keeping up. I was all set to get on a plane to Ecuador 15Jan2014 to climb Cotopaxi. I’d never done anything like that before. Mountain Madness didn’t require any experience…just good fitness with high altitude experience a plus. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Everest base camp expeditions seemed to make me a good enough candidate.
I spent a lot of time in the fall of 2013 researching gear, buying it, watching the stockpile grow down in the basement, and trying it out. I’m most fascinated with the ice ax. It’s just light and simple and elegant and happens to be the most important piece of safety equipment. Crampons seem dangerous.
I had amped up my hiking in 2013 too…finding that 4 gallons of water weight in the backpack was just about right for shorter hikes and 3 gallons for longer ones. As winter came on I would head to the mountains every time there was snow and cold weather which was often at the end of 2013. There don’t seem to be too many pictures on the computer as I look back. I’d been to all the places before. Maybe that was why.
Steve came with me on one snowy Bull Run Mountain hike in early December. He brought the Manhattans.
It seems I wore my plastic boots. I remember being surprised they were as comfortable as they turned out to be since they’re not really made for hiking without crampons.
View from the top of Bull Run Mountain
And then the fateful day.
I set off early on the morning of December 14th to hike Robertson mountain. Heavy snow was predicted and I was excited. Robertson mountain is off the beaten path and slightly higher, but inherently much safer than Old Rag which has exposed, slippery granite areas and high cliffs. I was on the road just as the snow was starting. It was a beautiful hike and there was nobody else around. I remember the silence and only the sound that boots make in the powder. I stopped long enough at the summit to admire the valley view.
With only about three weeks before leaving for Ecuador, I wanted to be safe. So I used hiking poles on the way down. There were some smaller bear tracks crossing the trail, then some very large ones. I started banging my poles together so there wouldn’t be any surprises. I reached the fire road and instead of heading for another backwoods trail for the return I decided to take the fire road all the way back, again, to be safer.
The dirt and gravel on the road were frozen beneath the snow. At one point my boots slipped on some ice and I landed on my left hand, which was formed in a fist around the pole handle. The fist, with my full weight behind it, essentially punched a rock on the ground with the knuckle of the small finger taking all the force. I took off my glove and inspected the damage. It didn’t look or feel very good. I managed to finish the rest of the 3 or 4 miles back to the car without falling again and drove home.
That started a string of doctor visits leading to the conclusion within a few days that the fracture needed surgery and I wasn’t going to Ecuador. I called Tara, my climbing buddy, with the bad news.
I entertained some thoughts for a week or two about still going. I even took a two part ropes/climbing course at the local climbing gym before the fracture was set. It’s hard to climb using only one hand.
But no, the trip was off.
