Samarth’s Travel Page

Reunion
Pronunciation: (“) rE-‘yün-y&n
Function: noun
1: an act of reuniting: the state of being reunited
2: a reuniting of persons after separation

Aptly defined in any dictionary, this was one of the best reunions I have had in years. I smile and recollect that Tapowan happened in our lives, way back in two thousand one. Forming of inseparable bonds amongst us, intricately interwoven with memories of millions of small and delicate moments, has helped all of stay together, and share, probably what all close friends share. But the one thing that brought these people together was their passion for the mountains. It was only driven by this passion that the Tapowan-ites got together again, outside of India, and accompanied by some more enthusiastic people, climbed the third highest peak in the states.
San Diego in the west, College Station in the mid-west/south, Cleveland in east, Toronto in Canada, and Mumbai in India; these were some of the places from where people descended in the mile-high city, to be greeted by the ever-bubbly Madhura. The drive from Denver to Aspen started at night, and was a thing to worry for Ashwini’s mother, back in India. Thankfully, Ashwini could convince her that “Samarth can drive”. With me and Rakya behind a steering wheel each, we reach Basalt, CO, and find ourselves fanatically searching the otherwise-visible-yellow-on-blue-sign of “Best Western”. I guess, it was just before everybody’s patience ran out, that we found the place to go and crash. Having volunteered to sleep on the floor, Kedar helped Rakya justify getting his sleeping bag (on a climb). It was only after we tried to sleep, despite the unstoppable bursts of laughter from our “other” room; we realize that I and Pitts, as if in a synchronized motion, interspersed with sound sleep, were snoozing away at the stupid alarm clock in the middle of two queen sized beds. Apparently, we later learnt that Kedar just couldn’t sleep that night because of the alarm. Having gotten immune to the fact that “always” something or the other is bound to happen to our luggage during a trip, we went to the Aspen airport to look for the supposedly “untraceable” bag of Manasi’s, and were disappointed to know that the status hadn’t changed. The agenda for the day takes us to Maroon Bells, from where the acclimatization hike to Buckskin Pass starts. The tiring hike, accompanied by blisters on a couple of peoples’ feet helped change the definition of the hike from a “hike” to a “summit”. Kedar, Rakya, Pittya, Mahadik, Soniya and I got to see the views from the top. “Is this ALL your food” – is what somebody asked Manasi, when she, Madhura and Ashwini were in the process of loading up the car with 20 hamburgers, French fries, soda glasses and tons of ketchup sachets and paper napkins. All humans pounced on the animals, i.e. chicken and bull, once the food was within reach, in the parking lot of the Maroon Bells tour bus. Tired legs, aching bodies, exhausted minds, hearty dinner and extremely sleepy condition placed a small doubt in everybody’s mind about the next day’s summit attempt on Mt. Elbert. And to top it off, heaters in the rooms of the motel in Leadville were not working. I guess, everybody was so sleepy, that it really didn’t matter.
The anticipated time for everybody to start climbing was stretched a bit from five in the morning to seven. I would say, the rest was badly needed. Familiarity with the area helped me figure out exactly where we (me and Gokhale) parked our car in November-o-5 and walked four and a half mile up to the trailhead of Mt. Elbert, with snowshoes strapped to our shoes, in five degrees Fahrenheit. Yes, the same desire, to pee, which had forced Gokhale to take his hand out of the glove, had changed to a feeling of dread, when his mind was racing towards the possibility of hand-amputation. It was a lucky day, because on these fourteeners, generally, a combination of “holiday plus perfect-beautiful-weather” is a rarity. The trail was swarmed with people, but we managed to fit our Malibu’s in the remaining space. Everybody hiked at their own speed. Occasional “walking together” sessions became a part of the otherwise single soul wandering through the woods, taking in the beauty, cursing the trail, wiping off sweat or just frantically sucking on the little blue tube coming out of the backpack. I and Kedar took our first stop at the tree-line, where a powerbar and a couple of sips of water refreshed us. With the knowledge that there are three false summits, we kept our spirits high to go and just do it! But, just before the first false summit, Kedar’s knee prompted him to stop and rest, forcing me to go ahead. Two calls from Madhura at that altitude and temperature were enough for my cell-phone’s battery to suddenly and immediately die out. Fortunately, it allowed me to call her up, when I summitted at eleven twenty five. Rakya and Mahadik followed at twelve. Usual photo sessions with the flag followed. It was nice to see Mahadik on the summit, considering the fact that he hadn’t hiked since two thousand one. A bar, washed down with Gatorade along with signing the summit log led to the beginning of the descent. Commonly more tiring than an ascent, Elbert took its own sweet toll on everybody. Mahadik’s shoe was biting viciously into the side of his leg, so we suggested him to come down with Pitts and Soniya, who were half an hour away from the summit, when we crossed them. The Indian flag was handed over to Pittya at the cross-over. Every time, when I and Rakya encountered a descent, our hearts sank. One very wrong notion which we had was “once we reach the tree-line, we are almost there”. After a two and a half hour walk from tree-line, the realization dawned upon us that we were ridiculously far from “almost there”. It was after ten and a half hours, that I and Rakya got a glimpse of our cars, and we were greeted by shake-hands and hugs. Amazing people crossed us, like a guy who had climbed South Maroon, parking lot-summit-parking lot in a day, a fifty something guy who had been hiking since the last six days, and was going to go on for the next 2 weeks, and a couple, carrying only a bottle of water each, crossed us, while descending the first false summit; they were going for the summit. They crossed us, while going to the parking lot. Puzzled at their speed, stamina, determination, endurance and what-not, I asked, “Did you make it to the top?” Their casual “yes” sounded all the more justified, when they said they were “Colorado-ians”, and had come just for some fun on the mountain. I guess, being from Cleveland and near-Houston doesn’t help much, when it comes to altitude. Manasi and Ashwini almost made it to the top of the first false summit, Kedar returned from there as well, Madhura and Leena made it up, just a little bit above tree-line, and the rest summitted. Everybody gave it, whatever they had, and had their own successes.
It feels good to see that everybody had a nice time, enjoyed, and bonded together. I am sure that the trip memories are permanently etched on everybody’s mind, for the time to come, and feed the passion in their hearts.
Who knows, couple of years down the line, writing another trip report will make me smile and recollect, and write “Elbert happened in our lives in two thousand six…”