It was a pretty nice trail. A nice uphill climb at first. Flagstaff mountain that I visited last weekend was just to next to where I was hiking.
There were some cool rock formations on this mountain too. They were fittingly called the Red Rocks, and there were a few trails around them, but I just climbed to the top and then back down. It was still early so the sun was right there.
I said hello to the town of Boulder,
...and headed to Anemone Trail. Why it was called anemone is beyond me. Unless there are anemones not affiliated with water. This trail was a bit more challenging. There was a good uphill climb and a fair amount of rocks to spice up the trail. I walked around the Dome Fire area. The Dome Fire burned in October of 2010, just one month after the notorious Fourmile Fire, which is known to be the most destructive fire in Colorado history. The area is still damaged, as you can see.
Part of my trail was closed...just as I was approaching the other side of the mountain. It was quite disheartening. So I followed the trail as it turned around and headed down a different side of the mountain, which had some horrible downhill sections.
I made it down to where the trail branched off from the Red Rocks Trail. It hadn't even been an hour yet, how could I leave? Especially since just across the street was another mountain that would give me a much better view than my truncated trail had.
So I walked across the street to the Mount Sanitas trail head. It looked pretty simple. Uphill to some cool rocks, then downhill and I would have conquered a mountain. Look at that picture. It's unimaginably deceptive.
The trail started out pretty nice. A little challenging because it was uphill, but still good. I had felt the beginnings of a blister as I started trekking, but I had already made the decision to go to the top. It was just up to those rock formations, it wouldn't be too bad. I could see the Red Rocks I had visited earlier in the morning.
The farthest in the distance is the 1st Flatiron/ Green Mountain. Then Flagstaff just before it. Such a beautiful sight--I can't get enough of it. I kept travelling uphill and the trail started getting more difficult. It was still nice though, having actual stairs, but the upward trek is always rough.
Then finally I made it up with all the rock formations, you know, where the top was supposed to be, and the view was gorgeous as always. But the path kept going, and I figured a little while longer and I'd get up to the top. So, up I went up the rocky path. It turns out quite a few people hike by themselves. One of them was a woman who was hiking by herself but clearly did not want to be by herself. How do I know this? She was on the phone the whole way up. I kept trying to let her pass me, but when I would walk back to the trail she would be standing their, fiddling with her phone and probably calling someone else. (Luckily she didn't wasn't with me the entire way or I would have gone crazy.)
I couldn't see any more trees- this had to be the top.
Nope.
I was so tired. Where was this going to end? Where was the top? It had to be at the top of this. I almost stopped at the top of this. I definitely took a break for a few minutes. I had made it to the view I had gone hiking this morning for: the snow-covered Rockies. They're still far away, so yes, this is zoomed in, but it is just too pretty.
By this time the clouds were very slowly starting to roll form. From here I could also easily see the mountain from earlier (whose name I still don't know), along with Flagstaff, and Green Mountain (the back half of the Flatirons).
I looked at a picture of the trail map I had taken at the trail head. If I could get to the top, I could take the East Ridge Trail down the mountain to the hopefully flat Sanita Valley Trail. I didn't know what those trials were like. I didn't know how tough that downhill climb would be, but I knew what the trail was like I had come up, and I knew I didn't want to try to get down that. Most of it was good, but the whole trek from the true summit (which I didn't know really existed yet) and what I thought had been the summit was insanely difficult. I have really great shoes, but across slick rock, even great shoes aren't perfect. That's what's so good about taking new trails. I don't know what I'm in for if I've never been on the trail before, so I take it in stride and keep going. If I had turned back at this point of the trail, I would never go up it again. It would be another mountain that hadn't been conquered. With that thought in mind, I picked myself up and kept walking uphill to the mythical summit.
And kept walking...
Then I saw people gathered and I knew I was close. I climbed painfully, my blister that had made itself known at the base of the mountain was now screaming at me with every step. But I kept walking, kept climbing, knowing that eventually I would make it to the top.
And I did.
I don't think there's anything more rewarding than that simple metal pole. The view was fantastic. More fantastic than what I had seen on the way up? Probably not. But getting to the top made everything more beautiful. The struggle, the pain, it all seemed worth it in those few minutes.
The mountain I had been on earlier in the morning looked completely dwarfed now, as did Flagstaff.
The town of Boulder was tiny below me.
I could still see the snow mountains, but they seemed even farther away. Another day.
After a few minutes I headed back down the mountain, finally seeing the East Ridge Trail I had seen exist on the map and which I had hoped for as I made my way to the summit. Yes, it looked rough, but I was convinced it was still better than going back the way I came. On the way down I came across a pregnant woman. That combined with the infants I saw at the top made me realize that these Boulder people are born and bred to hike. They're hiking before they're even born!
There was one guy who was a few yards ahead of me, and he was going my pace, so I kept with him the whole way down. It's good to have someone around in case you fall, you know?
On the way down, I saw the huge, rich people houses. Gorgeous, yes, but I failed to see the point. Why live on a mountain facing the town? Yes, it's OK but not the most beautiful thing. Why not live on a mountain and face west? Then you can see more mountains. Maybe that's just me. I'd rather look at the mountains than live on one and look at small buildings.
And finally, after a crazy trek up a mountain that was much longer than it was supposed to be came to an end. My feet found a trail that made them very very happy.
I have to say, I haven't been that happy to see my car in a long time. Thankfully I had flip flops with me, so the shoes were off immediately. I checked out the blister...or, what had once been a blister and was now a war zone. No wonder it had hurt so incredibly badly. Sometimes it's worth walking through the pain. Was today? Yes. My first summit. That's a pretty amazing experience. And horrible picture.
My feet hurt.
And just to help you realize the difference between what I thought I was doing and what I really had to do, I direct you to the photo below. The yellow arrow is where, from the road, I thought the summit was. A hill is what I thought it was. The red arrow is where I ended up. (This photo was taken from Chatauqua Park.)
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