MT. ELBERT
14,433 ft.
September 11, 2001
By Tim Briese
The eleventh day of September dawned clear and beautiful in Colorado, as it did in many parts of America. There was no hint of the dark clouds of horror that were about to engulf the country. I left home at 4:30 a.m. with the intention of climbing the 13er Grizzly Peak on the Continental Divide south of Independence Pass. At 13,988 feet, it is the highest 13er in the state. Little did I know that the civilized world was about to be shaken to its roots.
The early morning sun shone on stands of golden aspens as I headed up the South Fork Lake Creek Road off of Highway 82. I was startled to see a sign along the road that warned against drinking any water in the valley, even if it were boiled or chlorinated, because of heavy metals such as arsenic in the water from old mines or from mineralized ridges above. I had never seen such a warning before, and it immediately set an ominous tone for the day.
Presently I reached the trailhead and struck off on foot up the old four wheel drive road toward McNasser Gulch at 8:10. I had my two labs Allie and Jorie with me today and they were running all about enthusiastically. After a mile I reached a locked gate at the end of the road and found a grizzled old mountain man who was camped there with his old beat-up pickup camper. He warned me about a mother bear with two cubs who had been frequenting an area further up the trail over the past couple of weeks. She had apparently killed a deer for food up there and was remaining in the area for a while. She had chased this old man away two days before, and yesterday a hunter on horseback had found it necessary to fire a warning shot with his rifle to scare her off. He cautioned me to keep my dogs on a leash, for if they chased a cub the mother would most likely kill them. With a knot of fear rapidly developing in my stomach I thanked the man and proceeded up the trail.
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I hiked along. I was not sure just how dangerous the situation was, or if the old man’s story was even credible, but I did not want to take any chances with the safety of my dogs or myself. I rarely turn back on a mountain climb but it seemed like the wise thing to do this time. After a few minutes I turned around and retraced my steps. I briefly explained to the mountain man when I passed by his camp again that I didn’t want to endanger my dogs’ safety and would simply save Grizzly for another day. I was quite disappointed to turn back from my goal but also felt quite relieved to get out of this place, after being spooked by ominous warnings about the water and the bears.
It was still a beautiful morning for a mountain climb, though, so I decided to tackle Mt. Elbert instead. Earlier in the morning as I drove up Highway 82 past Elbert’s lofty summit I had thought about how I would like to reclimb it sometime anyway. I hurriedly drove up the rough road above Twin Lakes to the four wheel drive trailhead for the southeast slopes route to Elbert. Beautiful stands of yellow aspens glimmered under the deep blue sky. I quickly donned my pack and hit the trail at 10:20, which was one of the later starts I had ever made on a 14er. The lower part of the trail went steeply up through lovely groves of aspens before it broke out above timberline, where I enjoyed a fine view of Twin Lakes far below. I felt very energetic today and briskly hiked along, gaining some 1800 feet of elevation in the first hour.
At about 12,400 feet I stopped to call home and tell my wife about my change of plans. It was then that I learned about the tragic terrorist attack. Teresa asked me with quiet terror in her voice if I had heard about the attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade Center. She told me that all airports across the country were closed, and perhaps some roads and schools as well. The events of this day would be burned into our minds and hearts forever! I wondered if roadblocks would prevent my return home, but that did not seem to be the case. In spite of the news I decided to continue my ascent, but to do it hurriedly in order to get home as soon as possible. With a surge of horror-induced adrenalin I burst on up the trail and arrived on the summit at 12:50, for a two and a half hour ascent, including a lengthy break for the telephone call.
When I reached the summit I called home again to get more news about the tragedy. As I stood on top I discussed the shocking news with other climbers who were there, some of whom had heard scant bits of information about it on the radio earlier in the morning. I took a summit photo for a couple from New York City and filled them in on what I knew. He was a banker who worked on Wall Street a few blocks from the Trade Center. Tears began flowing down the woman’s face when I broke the news about a possible 10,000 casualties.
It wasn’t quite the same being out in the grandeur of the mountains today, with that tragedy engulfing my mind. It was indeed peaceful and beautiful where I stood, but chaos and horror lay over the horizon to the east. After about 30 minutes I left the summit and headed down. I called home again and learned from my daughter Nicole that the Trade Center was no more. My mind flashed back to a day in 1977 when I had stood on the observation deck atop one of those towers and gazed down at the streets of New York City a quarter of a mile below. I burned on down the trail, taking only a couple of brief pauses to gaze back up at the summit in the golden afternoon light, and arrived at my truck at 3 p.m. The descent took only an hour and 45 minutes. I was eager to get back home to my family and be with them during these tragic moments.
I’m sure each of us will look back and vividly remember where we were on September 11, 2001. I am glad, in a way, that I had the privilege to stand atop Colorado’s highest mountain on that day. In spite of the shocking horror of what took place, the vast grandeur of the mountains gave me a more calm and peaceful perspective that helped me realize that life would move on, in spite of the present travails of humanity.
