We woke up with every intention to conquer a mountain. The plan was simple: drive up 70W, get off on Silver Valley Rd., drive 4 miles up Stephen's Gulch Rd., and park at the trail head. Immediately after exiting the interstate we knew that the plan had changed. The trail was packed, and the suits who were manning the lookout tower informed us that Gross' Honda Accord would not make it up the road. Besides, the parking lot at the trail head was full. We figured we were a couple tough guys, 4 extra miles was no big deal. We parked at the interstate and destined for the trail head (indicated by the green hikers below).
We ran across this old cabin on our way up to the trail . It was one of a few landmarks we saw that had been a mining work site. Inside people had etched their names in the walls over the decades.
We finally reached the trail head, which was a longer hike to the trail than the hike itself. However, it was beautiful to see such a well preserved national forest. At this point we realized we had made a few mistakes. The geniuses that we were, we failed to pack more than one water bottle a piece. In addition, the snacks we packed to subdue our hunger was beef jerky (dehydrated meat), fiber granola bars (which absorb your body's water supply), and salty peanuts (ditto). Still, we thought we were a couple tough guys who had already done 4 miles, what's 3.5 more?
About 1.5 miles into the trail, we were completely out of water. Plus who ever built the trail, built it with steep steps all the way up. What's wrong with that? Nothing if you are Gross' height. However, since I am just shy of 60" tall, it was like jumping up the mountain. We were exhausted and dehydrated. We decided to play it on the safe side; yet, felt humiliated watching families with strollers, and the average couch fried potato pass us by. We vowed to return.
The look on our faces said it all, "I want to go home."
Descent of shame. Feeling like the biggest wuss. Good thing we could justify it. My manhood lays at Torrey's Peak, waiting for me to pick it up.
On our hike back down from the trail head, we had been passed by numerous cars, but eventually a young couple offered to pick us up. They gave us snacks and drinks, and I got the impression they would've given us their shirts off their backs. It was one of those moments that restored a little faith in humanity. I don't remember their names, but I definitely remember their example.