This weekend Kyle and I had the mega jazzy idea to go for a hike. We took our typical approach to things: "go big or go home" and decided we needed to do a 14er. Why not? We're young and nimble and moderately in shape (him more than me thanks to this whole 8-5 thing...), so all signs pointed toward yes. We chose to tackle a little slope some people like to call Grey's Peak.
Friday night was one of our typical downtown adventures featuring the likes of Crown, PBR, the aftermath of Oktoberfest... shenanigans, and sardine-ing at the Ginn Mill. Ahh downtown Denver, you never fail me. Saturday morning greeted us with a 10am rooster call and a trip to City O City before heading out on our adventure. C-O-C has some of the best people-watching opps, so we kept ourselves entertained while waiting for our veggo meal. "If I ever wear skinny jeans, you can just go ahead and kill me," Kyle said while we were both checking out a weird little group of hipsters. I honestly still haven't decided how I feel about the whole skinny jean rage, particularly among men/boys. They're not exactly the most flattering things. You either show off the fact that you shouldn't be wearing them thanks to your giant muffin top and unavoidable plumber's butt or everyone sees your knock-kneed chicken legs and pancake butt. But then again, some people can really rock them... and those people are called 12-year-old girls. Thankfully this trend will one day pass. I'm still crossing my fingers for mom jeans to come back in style--hello Z.Cavaricci and Guess, yes you can give me a pear butt while buttoning above my belly button. People who actually enjoy low-rise jeans are only kidding themselves.
Back to my story. After stuffing ourselves full of cheesy/beany things at City O City (which we later found out may or may not have been a bad idea...), we headed for the hills. Our first barrier was a 20ish minute drive up to the trailhead. Whatever we drove on could hardly be considered a road. It was more like what I imagine the surface of the moon to be like: craters, rocks and dust... I could hardly send a text without punching myself in the face with my phone. So that went well.
Somehow we made it to the trailhead, filled a water bottle, grabbed an old Gatorade out of the back of the car, and set off. Little did we know, that Gatorade was what would get us to the top. Note to self #1: hydrate like a camel. I think we were a little full of ourselves in thinking that we could crush this hill with one bottle of water, one Gatorade and one bag of trail mix, but whatever, at that point we didn't care. Oh, and note to self #2: drinking a Red Bull right before climbing to 14,000 ft is a bad idea. Enter--> major energy crash.
Eight minutes into the hike we were both time bombs ready to puke at any second. Note #3: drinking tasty adult beverages the night before a 14er is also a bad idea. Enter--> sweaty things, dizziness and nausea. I could have sworn we had been walking for at least 20 minutes. "Do you think it ever stops going up?..." We decided we'd stay on the trail for at least one hour then reassess. So we trudged along, secretly wheezing to ourselves. At one point I even told him to ignore the fact that I was breathing loudly because I was only doing it to remind myself that I was really still breathing. Cool, I know.
We kept running into people who would say smug little things like, "Looks like you're the only late-starters, huh?" Really guys? Feck yoo. Not only are you coming down the mountain while we're getting our asses kicked up, but you're rubbing it in our faces. Note #4: if you don't have something completely nice to say, shut your face, smile, and keep walking. Another 30 minutes went by and I turned into a turtle which didn't mesh too well with Kyle's bionic pace and the fact the world wouldn't stop spinning around me. Crazy what a few extra thousand feet can do to you. At that point we stopped and asked an older guy how much further it was to the top and he told us it would be about an hour... omigod... "Kyle, I'm not hiking for another fecking hour." He just turned around and kept walking uphill--good move, boyfriend, because I tucked my shirt into my Nancy pants and kept going. Note #5: When it starts to get shitty, shut your mouth and keep up with the positive internal dialogue. Actually... it doesn't help to say anything out loud.
An hour later we reached summit and I nearly wet my britches. Despite the fact that my body hated me, the view was so worth it. There's really no feeling like being on top of the world. We soaked it in for awhile, then decided enough's enough and headed down. And what did we see? A MOUNTAIN GOAT. Thank you, nature, for giving us that little extra gift. The rattle snake, not so much, but who doesn't love a good goat siting? I couldn't understand why he wasn't coming closer to us to give us a ride down. Apparently goat doesn't equal horse, even if you tack on the word mountain to its name. Who knew? I just wanted to squeeze him, but Kyle reminded me that wild animals are not our friends. Who knows what kind of disasters I would have gotten into had I been by myself. Note #6: hike in pairs.
So cheers to another check off my bucket list, right next to: climbing a waterfall, seeing monkeys in Costa Rica, riding a motorcycle, being in the center of dance circles, and eating banana bread.
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