Trip Report - Maroon Bells, White River National Forest

Despite the fact it’s been several days since my plane touched down in Orange County, and I left the Rocky Mountains behind, I’m still recovering from last week’s hiking excursion in the Maroon Bells, a breathtaking wilderness area outside of Aspen.  My calves are still cramped from the steep ascents.  My back is still contorted from carrying a 50-pound pack for four days.  My feet are just plain scary.  And my stomach still churns at the mere thought of ingesting any sort of backcountry food; I hope and pray I do not even have look at another Cliff bar, freeze-dried meal, or bag of trail mix for a very long time.  (Seriously, after living off that stuff for four days, even the thought of it makes me queasy.)

All complaining aside, it was an incredible trip.  Yes – it was tough.  We all pushed ourselves beyond our usual physical limits, and often questioned if we would even be able to make it any further.  (The 2,000 feet elevation gain on Day 3 was just a teensy more than we were bargaining for!)  But we did, and were rewarded with the privilege of finding ourselves in a remote, unspoiled paradise of almost indescribable magnificence. 

We saw lakes in shades of blue and turquoise that I didn’t know existed outside of paintings.  We walked through fields of wildflowers so vast, I could have sworn we had inadvertently stumbled upon the Elysian Fields.  Bursts of yellow, purple, and red stretched as far as the eye could see, juxtaposed against the steely gray of the distant mountains.  Everywhere we looked, we were in awe of the splendor before us.

We drank from babbling brooks. (Properly filtering the water, of course.)  We marveled at the stars.  We even hung out with a few hawks, deer, and pika.  At the risk of sounding overly hippy-dippy, we truly were able to commune with nature; it was inspiring and comforting at the same time.  (Before I lose you to thoughts of dreadlocks and drum circles, trust me; it wasn’t like that.)

So, I guess I’ll take my twisted back and newfound aversion to GORP in stride.  Every ache and pain was worth it.  I got my mountain fix for the summer.  I spent some quality time with friends, both new and old.  And I proved to myself that I am tough enough to make it four days in the unforgiving wilderness, with an incredibly heavy pack in tow.  I guess my only question is… what’s next?

Rethinking Mount Barney

After some conversations with coworkers and a couple of Mount Barney locals, I’m no longer disappointed with this week’s lack-luster mountaineering performance.  Turns out, most who recommended the hike had never actually done so themselves, as they deemed it too difficult.  Another admitted she and her husband turned around midpoint because they had run out of time; it took them five hours to reach what took me two hours.  The locals informed me hikers are regularly rescued from the mountain.  And I learned most novices usually go guided.  Note to self… These are all things that would have been helpful to know before I started the hike.  Oh well.  So, in retrospect, I was wise to turn around and call it quits when I did.  Because, let’s face it, a dramatic mountain rescue might be good fodder for the blog, but it wouldn’t be much fun in real life.

Oh –  and it turns out the cows chase everyone.  I guess they’re just plain mean.

Mount Barney and Me

I’m bruised and battered.  My legs are scratched beyond recognition. My arms and shoulders ache.  My calves and quads are rubber.  I’m exhausted.  I’m so tired, my eyelids are drooping as I write this entry.  Don’t feel sorry for me, though.  I’m not really complaining.  Despite my current state of being, I had an amazing day.  It was one of those wonderfully therapeutic, soul-cleansing days that can only be achieved by getting outdoors and pushing your body beyond its everyday expectations.  I needed this.  I needed to hike and climb and spend time outdoors.  I needed to feel my heart race and my muscles burn.  These are the things that help keep me sane.  These are the things that make me feel alive.

Today’s adventure took me to Mount Barney National Park located in the Scenic Rim Region of Queensland, approximately 2 hours southwest of Brisbane.  I hiked the South Ridge trail, which was meant to take me to the east peak of Mount Barney.  I emphasize meant, because my hike didn’t quite go as planned and I didn’t quite make it to the peak.  (Oops!)  Somehow, I managed to wander off the main trail and found myself on a lesser-traveled secondary trail.  No biggee, right?  I was fine with the bushwhacking and bouldering.  Despite the constant, nagging fear that I was going to run into a very large and very unfriendly snake, it was fun.  Then I found myself scaling some fairly exposed rock slabs and realized this probably wasn’t the safest thing to be doing, especially without a buddy.  So, I shimmied and down-climbed my way back to solid ground, upon which I decided the journey was soo much more important than the destination and headed back to the car.  (Translation:  I was too tired to find the real trail and hike up to the peak.)

Even though today’s hike didn’t go as planned and was slightly tough on my body, it was good for me.  It was good to be out there alone, with nothing but the rocks, trees, and my own thoughts for company.  It gave me time to work through everything that’s been whirling around in my head.  It allowed me to process life’s latest twists and turns.  It may not have been the day that I had envisioned, but it was exactly what I needed.  (Even the cows chasing me down the trail can’t change that sentiment.)