Greta and the Valley of Fire Our first ever Featured Travel Friend goes out to Greta Ruekgauer and her trip to Valley Of Fire! Great shot from @gretakatte of her trip on the Fire Wave trail in Valley of […]
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Stopping at the bottom of the gully, I survey the climb in front of me. The path nearly disappears into the bleached white slope with the icy holes left in the snow by previous mountain wanderers being my only means of navigation, I plot my course one literal step at a time. I place my feet into each hole as if I am walking a set of stairs made of an unknown strangers staggering footsteps. I can see the places where their boots slipped on the rocks below the snow and their hand prints where they caught balance on the frozen bank. As I progress I begin to think of the tracks as if I was being lead up the mountainside by a ghost.
The path quickly begins to climb while you side step jagged granite teeth and tree roots fighting to reclaim the trail. Each step having to be meticulous while at the same time completely spontaneous as we struggle through steep switchbacks. The distance to the top is only four miles long but you climb nearly a thousand feet in elevation for every mile gained. Using my altimeter on my watch to track our progress, we realize that we could only climb about 100 feet in elevation before the burning in our legs beam too much and forced us to halt our progress and give our legs time to catch up. Sometimes these breaks resulted in one or both of us sprawled across the rocky trail, asking a higher power, “why the f*** and I doing this?!” which was only answered by more trail to climb