Every so often, it is necessary to scare the living shit out of yourself, if for no other reason than to awaken an appreciation of life and its fragility. I set out solo on tuesday night, headed up to Glacier Gorge in Rocky Mountain National Park, intending to spend 2 days and 2 nights soloing some easier alpine rock routes and enjoying the high country. The second half of the 6 mile hike to my basecamp was done in the dark, providing cool temps and a certain mystique that only the forest at night can provide. The next morning I woke up to a beautiful sunrise behind the massive West face of Long’s Peak, and a generous spluge of Alpenglow on the Western peaks of the gorge.

There was a party of 2 already starting the first pitch of Sykes Sickle on Spearhead, which Buster and I had climbed 2 weeks earlier with the intent of linking it to The North Ridge (III 5.6) of Spearhead in a day. We knocked out the Sykes, but the weather prevented us from climbing the north ridge, so here I was, back by myself to give it a go sans rope.

I saw another lone guy heading up through the high alpine meadow, and after a brief introduction, we headed up to the base of the North ridge to solo it together. Thor was a little worried about the solo because almost all of the slab sections were dripping wet. I was a little worried as well, but my excitement and the tinge of alpine glory in my nether regions got the better of me. I had also downed a bunch of psychedelic mushrooms with my breakfast which further hightened my senses. We started up the route and soon encountered the first wet slab section. This was interesting to say the least, but after about 200 feet, we had passed the last of the death slab and were cruising. then came a series of moderate dihedrals, which linked grassy ledges, and finally we gained the North Ridge.

We scambled along the ridge for a little bit until we came to some more fun dihedrals with myriad options. By that time the mushrooms had kicked in pretty hard and I was in an incredible mental zone, with the beautiful alpine environment and enjoyable climbing fueling my energy. We reached the top at 1030am after 1 hour of climbing and I sat up there taking it all in for about 30 minutes and then headed down the 4th class descent on the south side of spearhead. My plan was to run over to Pagoda Mountain and solo the West Buttress (III 5.5), but Thor told me the weather forecast was not looking good, so i went back to my little bivy cave and settled in for a little afternoon siesta. I started to notice the skies were darkening and I was well above treeline, but my little bivy cave gave me comfort and I decided it would be cool to watch a little storm roll through…
As the massive wall of water made its way over Longs Peak from the East, I quickly gathered up my gear and stashed it in the back of the bivy cave, got into my bivy sack, and got ready for nature’s afternoon show. When the first bolt of lightning hit the ground about 100 feet away from me, I almost had a heart attack. The thunder came a split second later, first as a sharp crack, and then a deafening boom which resounded for several seconds between the walls of Glacier Basin. It only took about 5 seconds for me to realize with absolute terror that I was surrounded by metal. Ice axe, carabiners, stove, fuel…all became possible instruments of my death. I franticly began to hurl all of the metal out of my bivy cave, expecting to see it struck by lightning in mid air. Now I am not a paranoid person by any means, quite the opposite, but i was gripped by a horrifying feeling that this storm would be the end of me, and the irony would be that i had just soloed a dangerous route with ease, on shrooms, and now I would die a crispy death, alone in my cave. I considered recording a last message for my friends and family on my handy voice recorder, but then I realized the voice recorder had metal in it, and I tossed it. The regular afternoon storms in RMNP usually roll through in the afternoon and leave in time to enjoy a clear sunset. But this storm was different…for one thing it came from the East, and after 2 hours of cowering in the cave, the storm had not let up, and the lightning kept striking with alarming frequency. To make matter worse, the ceiling of my “bomber” bivy cave was dripping with water and had soaked my sleeping bag and the rest of my gear, which meant that if and when the storm finally passed, I would have to hike out instead of spending the night as planned because a wet down sleeping bag is no fun. So there I was cowering in my lonely cave, watching the trippy lichen drip with fresh rainwater and the storm of the century pound the basin. My emotions ran the gammut from, “this is the most awesome thing I have ever seen,” to “I will never go into the mountains again,” to “I wish I had an iPod with some Pink Floyd,” to “my fingerprints look insanely cool!” Luckily I was able to get one last picture before the storm really hit me, so I know that I didnt just hallucinate the whole experience.

Well needless to say, I made it unscathed, a little wet, but no harm done.
Some of you may not approve nor condone free soloing and/or drugs (hopefully my mom does not read this TR), but I can honestly say that despite being gripped with fear for 3 hours, that was one of the best days of my life. Free soloing is great practice for moving fast in the mountains and builds confidence like nothing else. Shrooms are just awesome, and for those of you who have tried them and didnt like them, I hate to tell you this, but you are probably not that fun of a person to begin with. As far as free-soloing goes, either you have an incredible climb, or you die. I promised myself just about a year ago that I would never free-solo, but its easy to break promises to yourself. Now I can’t advocate the combination of climbing and drugs, especially if you are climbing with a partner who is depending on you, but soloing and drugs go together like peas and carrots, just ask Derek Hersey…oh wait, he fell off the Steck -Salathe in Yosemite. But shit, I bet he had a great time up until then.