Mt Sherman - A quick 14-er!

 Yeah, so in my mind, I'd follow a hard 14-er (Mt Belford) with an easy 14-er (Sherman via Southwest Ridge) the next day and be able to say I bagged two 14-ers, back to back this weekend.

In theory, that worked. In practice, I learned that just because a peak is only 2000' from the parking lot, it doesn't mean "easy" is the right choice of words!  

Mt Sherman is a giant pile of rocks. It doesn't warm your legs up with a path that runs through the forest or warm your soul up with woodland creatures. Instead, you pull yourself out of your car-bed at crack'o'dawn, skip the coffee, throw back a muffin and begin an uphill journey that takes you through dilapidated mining remains and over the rockiest terrain your boots have ever encountered. The trail tries to break you, one ankle tendon at a time - just to remind you who is boss and that no peak should ever be underestimated.

Up ahead, you watch those going before you turn another corner and begin another section of steep grade. To the right, and in the direction of the sky obviously, the ridge leading to the peak has tiny-weeny people dotted on it. It's a long way away but you mentally resolve yourself to get there.

It's ok to admit that getting to the top means fighting the urge to throw yourself over the edge when you come upon a false summit and realize there's another 20 minutes of steep rocky ridge with your name on it. Mt Sherman apparently plays an integral part in the mental training required to climb high things.

Once at the top, I found lots of friendly people taking each other pictures. I joined in and did my part. 

It was just after 8am. What was true, was that Sherman was a quicker 14-er. I was still on track to get back to Boulder by early afternoon. 

And going down wasn't nearly as tough as I thought it would be. Thank goodness for trekking poles!

I was done and dusted just before 10am and 5 minutes later, feet freed from their boots, was driving the rough (understatement) county road back out towards Fairplay, then all the way home by 12:30pm.

Yes, I was tired. And it is probably true that my clothes needed burning... some might say with me still in them. I was fairly gross, after all. This weekend had seen me climb more than 6500', hike more than 13 miles and camp in my car at altitude 2 nights. But here's the thing... I felt GREAT. Much better than a week ago, leaving Mt Elbert. In the car, I literally welled up with tears at my accomplishment and also at the sheer relief of now knowing that I could hike high and not feel like a brain-fogged idiot, with the memory of a goldfish. My body, under the right conditions, can adjust to the altitude.  The earlier Diamox, extra hydration, lack of wine leading up to the weekend, more sleep, Gin-Gins as I hiked and double chocolate muffins for dark'o'clock breakfast all contributed to a better experience and a faster recovery.

Also unlike last week, the day after a hiking weekend was not a complete write-off. I was perky, quick-witted (if I do say so myself) and retained information. No headaches. No fatigue. No time off work.

Kili... with renewed confidence, I'm coming for you!