Emma Heineman is a junior from Bailey, Colorado. She is pursuing degrees in political science and international studies.
Since I flew back home to Colorado in March when all of this pandemic craziness began, I have been aware of how blessed I am to live where I do. I have watched as other friends’ have had their summer plans turned upside down by the closure of movie theatres, restaurants and other public places and realized how lucky I am to have an exciting and socially distant adventure waiting right in my backyard.
I have lived in a small mountain town in Colorado since I was born and have had my share of quintessential “mountain girl” experiences, but one thing that I had never done is hike a 14er, a mountain whose summit reached above 14,000 feet above sea level. The often treacherous trails, the unpredictable weather and the challenging altitude truly separates “real Coloradans” from visitors and tourists. I have always meant to hike one, but quarantine gave me the perfect opportunity to finally do it. The nearest 14er to me, Mt. Bierstadt, is roughly a 45 minutes drive from my quiet mountain town to the top of a winding pass. My sister and I left around 5 a.m., giving us plenty of time to get to the trail, summit and get down safely before the notorious afternoon thunderstorms. Though Colorado has warm summers, the temperature rarely rises above 60 degrees at the top of the pass, and stays even colder the higher up you go. Bundled for the crisp chilly July morning, we left the trailhead with a summit in the distance and the optimism of two people who had no idea what was in store for them.
After three hours of arduous hiking, we reached the summit, which, while amazing, was far from what I had expected. The wind chill brought the temperature to well below freezing, resulting in a few quick pictures, a hastily eaten lunch and a decision to head back down. After hiking another three hours down, my sister and I finally reached the parking lot, exhausted and ready for a long nap. To my horror, when I reached to unclip the car keys from where I had clipped them to my backpack, they were gone. I decided to ditch my pack with my sister and retrace my steps. I hiked alone for about a mile back down the trail with no luck. Unwilling to hike the remaining two and a half miles with only the small water bottle in my hand, I headed back to the parking lot empty-handed.
Had we been at any other trail, the solution to my unfortunate situation would have been a phone call and a short wait away, but at the top of a mountain pass with no service, my sister and I were forced to weigh out options. As afternoon storm clouds began to roll in, we decided to ask around to see if anyone would be willing to drive us into town, despite social distancing measures, so we could get service. I’m not a big believer in fate, but the family we found would be the perfect example. They were visiting from out of state and had come up to Mt. Bierstadt to enjoy a hike with their young daughter. Even better, they were staying at an AirBnb 10 minutes from my house. My sister and I couldn’t believe our luck and were incredibly gracious when they offered us a ride. Although my day was far from over and included countless phone calls with my car insurance company and driving back up the pass, I was relieved when we finally got home.
As I ponder the events of that day, I am struck with a great appreciation for everything that happened. In the moment, I remember feeling like the world was against me, but looking back, there were so many things that somehow turned out ok. I got to meet an amazing family that helped us, I got to spend a day making memories with my sister and I checked off a box on my bucket list. It surprises even me, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. Next time though, my sister should hold the keys.
