idiots!
Yesterday we went to the mountains. Mark had a friend visiting, and they decided to climb a fourteener yesterday, and Lara and I decided to accompany them. I'm the only one who's been up a fourteener, and Erica (Mark's friend) had only been in Colorado for a day, so we opted for Bierstadt, one of the lowest and easiest of the fourteeners.
For the uninitiated, a fourteener is a peak above 14,000 feet. Colorado has about 54 of them, and they're great fun to climb.
We were taking the kiddo along as well, because, well, who wants to get a babysitter for all day, and it's pretty cool to ascend your first fourteener before you're 18 months old.
So the plan was to hit the road at 6am and hit the trail at 8am. This turned into 6:30am and 9:30am respectively, but oh well, no big deal, right?
So we're hiking along, having a good time, huffing and puffing, Anya babbling, etc., and we see these kids. I don't remember how far along we were when we saw them first, but it was a girl, maybe ten, and a boy, younger than that. The boy was full of energy but the girl was kind of lagging and he was kind of shouting to her to hurry up. And we didn't see the parents, but maybe they were just up around the bend, right?
Awhile later we saw the girl up ahead, sitting and resting, no one else to be seen. Then even later, we passed her, and sat down to rest not far beyond. I was going to go offer her some water, but then she took some out of her backpack, so I figured she was okay. As we sat, I noticed her pull her arms up into her shirt (short sleeve t-shirt) and kind of rub them together. Obviously she was cold and didn't have anything else to wear. Did I mention the parents were nowhere to be seen? By this time you could see a long way up the trail. They weren't just around the bend. They had left her behind.
I was worried so I went and asked her if she was okay, and offered her my fleece. She took it, and we preceded up the trail, full of righteous indignation, ready to overtake the parents and tell them to go make sure their daughter was okay.
An hour or so passed, and the weather wasn't looking so good, and we were getting nervous.
Sidebar: The reason we tried to start out so early is that there are often thunderstorms in the mountains in the afternoon. This is more than an inconvenience: when you're above treeline, you stick up like a convenient lightning rod. By starting out as late as we did, we were taking a risk, so we kept an eye on the clouds, ready to turn back if we needed to. Note that many people started long after we did, but this doesn't make it a good idea.
So anyhow, to recap, we're getting close to the summit, the clouds are beginning to look ugly, we can still see the girl by herself sitting far down the mountain, and we haven't found the parents yet. We run into her brother again, headed down, probably cold, and maybe crying. We tell him where she is and ask where their parents are, and he keeps going down.
Soon after, we talk to a man getting ready to head down and discuss the situation. He says he'll take the kids back to the parking lot to wait for their parents, we'll continue up to yell at them and tell them to head back down.
Soon after this I start to worry for our safety, and especially for Anya. I'm torn between doing what's right for us (turning around) and finding the parents. So we decided Mark would drop his pack and run up to find them, Erica would wait with his pack, and Lara and I would slowly head down, to meet up with them soon. (and Anya was on my back). I almost immediately regretted this, and wished we had done it differently. I was basically putting Mark in harms way, alone. In retrospect, I should've had Mark carry Anya down while I went up to tell off the parents, but I was stressed and not really thinking straight.
And I should say as well, that splitting up the group is never a very good idea. I think the circumstances warranted it in this case, but I didn't like it.
Anyhow, Mark scurried up and back down, the weather held, and everything was okay. According to Mark, the conversation with the parents, who were just below the summit, went something like:
"Do you know your kids are halfway down the mountain, cold, alone and crying?"
"Well, there isn't very much we can do about that right now, is there?"
"No, because summiting was more important to you than your kids."
Really. I'm not kidding. What can I even say about that?
Another fun note. Mark was probably 50 feet from the summit, but he didn't summit. He talked to the parents, turned back around, and headed down. His priority was finding the parents and getting back down to us. The parents looked at him a little strange when he turned around. We hope this sent them a message about priorities, but my guess is the point was lost on them.
So, all back together, we began heading down. I decided to book it fast back to the car, because Anya was getting a little cold, and I didn't want her to get stormed on. Plus, I wanted to catch the idiot family before they left so I could get my fleece back. I wouldn't put it past them to drive off with it. As we headed back, it began to hail a little, then rain a little, then hail and rain a lot. Fortunately, I got Anya back to the car before the worst of it, and she didn't get very wet at all (her pack has a nice canopy type thing that keeps her pretty dry). We hung out in the car while the storm unleashed its wrath, and once the three other drowned rats got back we headed out.
Now comes the part where I lecture. I don't think I even need to go into how boneheaded it is to leave your preteen kids behind on the side of the mountain. What would have happened to them if they were sitting two hours from the car in shorts and tshirts with no extra clothes when the storm hit? (It was 40 degrees and icy water was falling out of the sky. They would've probably gotten hypothermia and could've ended up in the hospital). Fortunately for them, they were hanging out under cover in the parking lot by the time it rained.
I often feel like I'm a bit uptight when I take people hiking. I don't like it when they wear things like jeans, because cotton doesn't insulate when it gets wet. I want everyone to have raingear and extra clothes. I want to start out early. This feels a little silly, especially in Fort Collins, when it's 90 degrees and it never rains. Most of the time you can go out unprepared and you'll be fine, but it only takes one experience like this to change your perspective a little. Be safe out there, people.
Okay, enough lecturing. It was actually a pretty fun hike, for most of it, and it gives us something to talk about. (And me something to blog about.)
For the uninitiated, a fourteener is a peak above 14,000 feet. Colorado has about 54 of them, and they're great fun to climb.
We were taking the kiddo along as well, because, well, who wants to get a babysitter for all day, and it's pretty cool to ascend your first fourteener before you're 18 months old.
So the plan was to hit the road at 6am and hit the trail at 8am. This turned into 6:30am and 9:30am respectively, but oh well, no big deal, right?
So we're hiking along, having a good time, huffing and puffing, Anya babbling, etc., and we see these kids. I don't remember how far along we were when we saw them first, but it was a girl, maybe ten, and a boy, younger than that. The boy was full of energy but the girl was kind of lagging and he was kind of shouting to her to hurry up. And we didn't see the parents, but maybe they were just up around the bend, right?
Awhile later we saw the girl up ahead, sitting and resting, no one else to be seen. Then even later, we passed her, and sat down to rest not far beyond. I was going to go offer her some water, but then she took some out of her backpack, so I figured she was okay. As we sat, I noticed her pull her arms up into her shirt (short sleeve t-shirt) and kind of rub them together. Obviously she was cold and didn't have anything else to wear. Did I mention the parents were nowhere to be seen? By this time you could see a long way up the trail. They weren't just around the bend. They had left her behind.
I was worried so I went and asked her if she was okay, and offered her my fleece. She took it, and we preceded up the trail, full of righteous indignation, ready to overtake the parents and tell them to go make sure their daughter was okay.
An hour or so passed, and the weather wasn't looking so good, and we were getting nervous.
Sidebar: The reason we tried to start out so early is that there are often thunderstorms in the mountains in the afternoon. This is more than an inconvenience: when you're above treeline, you stick up like a convenient lightning rod. By starting out as late as we did, we were taking a risk, so we kept an eye on the clouds, ready to turn back if we needed to. Note that many people started long after we did, but this doesn't make it a good idea.
So anyhow, to recap, we're getting close to the summit, the clouds are beginning to look ugly, we can still see the girl by herself sitting far down the mountain, and we haven't found the parents yet. We run into her brother again, headed down, probably cold, and maybe crying. We tell him where she is and ask where their parents are, and he keeps going down.
Soon after, we talk to a man getting ready to head down and discuss the situation. He says he'll take the kids back to the parking lot to wait for their parents, we'll continue up to yell at them and tell them to head back down.
Soon after this I start to worry for our safety, and especially for Anya. I'm torn between doing what's right for us (turning around) and finding the parents. So we decided Mark would drop his pack and run up to find them, Erica would wait with his pack, and Lara and I would slowly head down, to meet up with them soon. (and Anya was on my back). I almost immediately regretted this, and wished we had done it differently. I was basically putting Mark in harms way, alone. In retrospect, I should've had Mark carry Anya down while I went up to tell off the parents, but I was stressed and not really thinking straight.
And I should say as well, that splitting up the group is never a very good idea. I think the circumstances warranted it in this case, but I didn't like it.
Anyhow, Mark scurried up and back down, the weather held, and everything was okay. According to Mark, the conversation with the parents, who were just below the summit, went something like:
"Do you know your kids are halfway down the mountain, cold, alone and crying?"
"Well, there isn't very much we can do about that right now, is there?"
"No, because summiting was more important to you than your kids."
Really. I'm not kidding. What can I even say about that?
Another fun note. Mark was probably 50 feet from the summit, but he didn't summit. He talked to the parents, turned back around, and headed down. His priority was finding the parents and getting back down to us. The parents looked at him a little strange when he turned around. We hope this sent them a message about priorities, but my guess is the point was lost on them.
So, all back together, we began heading down. I decided to book it fast back to the car, because Anya was getting a little cold, and I didn't want her to get stormed on. Plus, I wanted to catch the idiot family before they left so I could get my fleece back. I wouldn't put it past them to drive off with it. As we headed back, it began to hail a little, then rain a little, then hail and rain a lot. Fortunately, I got Anya back to the car before the worst of it, and she didn't get very wet at all (her pack has a nice canopy type thing that keeps her pretty dry). We hung out in the car while the storm unleashed its wrath, and once the three other drowned rats got back we headed out.
Now comes the part where I lecture. I don't think I even need to go into how boneheaded it is to leave your preteen kids behind on the side of the mountain. What would have happened to them if they were sitting two hours from the car in shorts and tshirts with no extra clothes when the storm hit? (It was 40 degrees and icy water was falling out of the sky. They would've probably gotten hypothermia and could've ended up in the hospital). Fortunately for them, they were hanging out under cover in the parking lot by the time it rained.
I often feel like I'm a bit uptight when I take people hiking. I don't like it when they wear things like jeans, because cotton doesn't insulate when it gets wet. I want everyone to have raingear and extra clothes. I want to start out early. This feels a little silly, especially in Fort Collins, when it's 90 degrees and it never rains. Most of the time you can go out unprepared and you'll be fine, but it only takes one experience like this to change your perspective a little. Be safe out there, people.
Okay, enough lecturing. It was actually a pretty fun hike, for most of it, and it gives us something to talk about. (And me something to blog about.)
posted by Steve
4 Comments:
Unbelievable... No child left behind is my motto! Oh wait, I think that's already taken.
Unbelievable... No child left behind is my motto! Oh wait, I think that's already taken.
freakin crazy! I am in RAGE at that family! but you're right, that's an amazing story - and I can say I never want to hike without you. i have never thought you were a freak before, just really smart and experienced about it all. and i definitely will never take that for granted now! (btw, sorry about that time i wore jeans. i didn't know any better!)
ah, come on Steve, it's not like they were coming down Crestone Needle in the middle of a hail storm... or trying to make it out of Chicago Basin ahead of an electrical storm at 13,600 after already summiting Eulos and carrying 50 pounds worth of gear! :-)
Just wait till you take the kid across the Sawtooth someday. Then I'll remind you of this one.
Anyway, hope to climb with you soon.
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