I like to engage in physical challenges when I travel. The harder and scarier the better. I’m no uber-athlete, but I’m also not one of those plunk-my-ass-down-in-a-beach-chair-in-the-morning-and-drink-until-dinner kind of girls. I can do a couple of hours of that, but then I’m fidgeting, looking for fun (quick shag, anyone?) I figure I didn’t spend hundreds of dollars and hours of my time to sit on planes, trains and boats to arrive at a place to just sit by a pool and get drunk.
I can go to Florida for that.
When I choose a place to visit, I choose based on fun factor, topography and the potential, even willingness, for intimacy. I need to get into the cracks and crevices of a place, to use my eyes, body and hands to manipulate the landscape, to return home really knowing it.
I am always searching for that elusive connection to place.
I’ve spelunked, rappelled, and ziplined down and through canyons, mines, caves, craters and valleys. I’ve ridden horses, cycled, white-water rafted and kayaked over and through mountains, volcanoes and rapids. I’ve climbed mountains so steep that affixed handrails and ropes were the only thing standing between me and the sure humiliation of descent.
But I’ve got a sinking hunch that all I’ve done will not hold a candle to what my climbing friend and I plan to do come next week, which is summitting Mt. Quandary, elevation 14,265. There just simply seems to be no way to prepare for it.
Don’t get me wrong, I have my gear. I have the Camelbak and the REI boots and the energy bars and the layers. I’ve done the workouts, the hills and the inclines. I’ve looked at the trail maps, consulted alltrails.com, and installed the climbing app. I’ve got the physical game. My climb might not be fast or pretty, and little girls in jelly sandals will probably pass me, but physically, I’d make it.
I’m just not sure I have the mental game, the “la cabeza.” Quandary is double the height of anything I have ever climbed. Which puts me in quite the quandary.
All Trails reviews are of little help. While Quandary gets five stars consistently across the board, climbers have dissenting opinions as to its climber-friendliness and ease.
Peter W: “Left at 10 submitted (sic) at 3. Great mountain.”
Angry Hiker: “Five hours my ass. Hope you like rocks and impossibility.”
Steph: “Great 14’er but long slog. Bring aggressive hiking boots.”
Almost Died: “Had to spend the night, vastly underestimated my abilities.”
Yikes. And these are people who are acclimated to that altitude, while I sit here, marinating at sea level.
I decided to consult my Tinder men, who love nothing more than to brag about the places where they live and love, and who always offer to show you the sights. My friend and I have dates to paddleboard on the Dillon Reservoir, to gondola up to and then bike down from Peak 7, and to rappel to natural hot springs. So I asked one man from each Tinder guy category to give me their opinion on two middle-aged fit women wanting to climb Quandary. Here are the results:
Adam Scott: “Quandary I have not been where are you?”
Fuck Boy: “It’s tough but go for it. If you die, you die.”
LTR: “You should be ok, but I’ll go with you and make sure. I’ve done it a hundred times. Make sure you have plenty of water and snacks. Good hiking boots. A hat and gloves, because you never know.”
SNMNKs: “Fuck that, I can get you to the same view on the back of my motorcycle in one hour. What is that tattoo on your right foot in that profile pic?”
John59: “not sure where that is when r u here again”
Tinder Tony: “Great choice of mountain let me give you some specifics. Short hike, and has less elevation gain when compared to many other fourteeners, but it’s challenging. Much of the climbing occurs in two relatively short sections. One climbs 1300 feet over a 0.9-mile section, while the other climbs 1100 feet during the final 0.8-mile push to the top. And yo hottie, watch out for lightning and goats- someone got gored last year. I’ll go with you after my morning trail run, if you get tired I’ll carry you up on my shoulders.”
2020: An Earth Odyssey.