Caught by Darkness

I am really not that reckless, though it may seem so occasionally. Actually, I am quite careful. First off all, I got out fairly late last Saturday, January 4. Still, I had several hours to make it up to Bedford Peak and I thought I could make it before dark even with a hell of a climb like Silverado Motorway (Silverado Trail). I'm not afraid of the mountains and I'm not afraid of the dark -- but I treat them both with mild caution, sort of like I treat water or fire. Water or fire are both wonderful things -- they can save your life, but they can also kill you.

I was behind on that Saturday from the start (taking too long to get out of the house) and then I didn't get to start my hike/run at the trail head. All 5 parking spaces were full and the gate to Maple Springs Road was closed. So, I had to park alongside the road about three quarters of a mile away \.

As I made that miserable but lovely trek up the motorway, I would wander in and out of cell service, and here and there I would hear a ding to signify a text. Turned out that my oldest son had some questions regarding an auto loan he was pursing. And even in the mountains on some God forsaken trail, I'll get back to my children. But when you get cell service marching up that trail, you have to stop in your tracks, otherwise you'll lose it. So, I plopped myself on the side of the cliff a couple of times to talk several minutes with my boy. I suppose the reckless part of this journey came about then. I really should not have wasted any time. I hadn't realized that I would be racing against the darkness. It was reckless not to realize.

Maple Springs Road on way to Silverado Motorway (Trail)

Silverado Motorway is a tough trek with a constant climb. Those phone calls put me back time-wise, but it took my mind off the trail's difficulty and it was good to talk with my son. I probably should have turned around at The Main Divide when I finally reached it. Problem was, I had my heart set on Bedford Peak. I was looking forward to hanging out there for a bit of self-reflection and peaceful moments. I will say however, being a former Girl Scout, I came somewhat prepared having packed warm clothing and the last thing I grabbed out the door was a flash light.

Climbing Silverado Motorway

At Bedford Peak (notice snow on backside of Modjeska Peak in background)

The bench that I expected and looked forward to Bedford Peak was gone. My time at this magical spot was lovely regardless. So much so, I spent too much time taking it all in. I was completely alone on top of a mountain. And I liked it very much. That's not reckless is it? 

The weather was cold, the kind of cold that makes you feel alive. I bundled up with long sleeves, gloves and beanie.  I had one hour before dark. One hour to travel more than four miles across rocky difficult terrain (but thankfully downhill!). I figured that wasn't going to happen, especially because I was going to lose a lot of visibility before dark, during the twilight. I ran at a fast pace (fast for me)  for much of the return, however, with fading light and technical terrain, I had to slow down quite a few times. I lost good visibility at those final (seven!) switchbacks toward the bottom of the canyon when I decided to take out my flashlight. What a great little flashlight my parents put into my sons' Christmas gift bags. It lit up the mountain for me and changed the game. It turned twilight and into day. 

I didn't make it down before dark. But I ran down the motorway much quicker than I would have if I wasn't racing against darkness. I concentrated hard on kicking out the back so that I didn't fall. I've been at this game long enough to know that one shuffle could send me flying (don't shuffle your feet on technical terrain!). By the time I crossed over the creek, I was in complete darkness. Right at that time, fire truck with sirens blaring pulled into the trail head lot. A paramedic came in afterward, and another emergency vehicle raced up the road as I ran down Silverado Canyon to my truck parked alongside the road. As I ran past all of the commotion, I overheard a mountain biker talking into the fire truck. He was describing someone who was sprawled out on the trail, and in "pretty bad shape." People stood on their porches looking up toward Maple Springs Road as I made my way toward my truck. It seemed that this little sleepy town was coming alive with lamps and porch lights and decorative lights roped from trees. A couple of people called out from their porches asking about the emergency vehicles. I hollered back what I knew as I ran by.

I did not learn anything further about the injury that night on Maple Springs Road. (I recently Googled it to no avail.) When I finally arrived to that desolate turnout on the side of the road (as there were no homes on this stretch) my car was one of four remaining. Which one, I wondered, belonged to the injured party? I felt relieved back at the truck, and calmer, and a little bit more alive. It was a good trip. I appreciated being caught by darkness. I wouldn't do it on purpose again, but I was glad that it happened and that I made it back safely.

Total trip was just under 9 miles and 2,265' of elevation gain.

Heading Down