Failing Epically on Nolan’s 14
Written by Invictus Member Tara Miranda
To go on…or not to go on? I had been turning the question over in my mind for hours as I walked alone along the Colorado trail. I glanced at my watch over and over again, surprised and frustrated by how fast time seemed to be going. Ten, 14,000 ft peaks lay behind me, the one I was on (Mt. Princeton) felt like an old familiar friend, but it was still big and hard and had ridgelines that seemed to go on and on insultingly. Three more 14,000 ft peaks lay beyond it – dozens of miles and thousands of feet of vertical gain and loss over rough rocky trails, tricky route-finding, and the endless frustration of gravel and boulders that characterize nearly all the 14,000 ft mountains of the Sawatch range in Colorado. Nolan’s 14 – a beautiful and rather absurd route – connecting 14 peaks all over 14,000 ft high. It’s been described as the world’s longest continuous mountain climb and to be considered an official finisher you had to complete the distance in 60 hours or less. My clock was ticking…
Rewinding about 52 hours earlier Sunny Stroeer, Ilana Jesse (two tough mountain athletes I’m happy to call friends) and I set off from the Leadville Fish Hatchery at the north end of the Nolan’s route. We were going to attempt to be the 4th, 5th, and 6th females to ever complete the route – and if we were lucky maybe even set a new speed record. The day was bright and sunny, and we were buoyed by unexpected friends of Ilana’s showing up to be pit crew for her and a kindhearted local runner (and Nolan’s finisher) who came out just to cheer us on.
Of course, as with many big efforts, things did not go as planned. Our team of three dropped to two after day one, when Ilana was sidelined by a lung infection and dropped out after peak four. Our team of two dropped to just me after peak 10 when Sunny, after a brutal 45 hours leading us, simply could not keep her eyes open anymore. This post would be too long if I were to try to describe the effort we put out. The endless climbs with burning thighs and lungs, descents of death where the mountain would slide down along with you, fierce bushwhacks and creek crossings, and most of all the mind-numbing, soul-sucking fatigue of so many hours moving. But day one gave us the longest sunset I’ve ever seen, and until you’ve seen the stars from 14,000 ft you haven’t seen stars. The dawn of Day two gave us gorgeous silhouettes of Nolan’s most aesthetic peak, and every valley revealed gems of babbling creeks or bursts of wildflowers. It’s a common turn of phrase in ultra-running that no matter how you feel right now it will change. Emotional and physical highs and lows are expected – all you can do is ride the high and weather the low.
The biggest high (and by far the most meaningful part of this experience for me) was the help we had from strangers who became friends. The friends who hiked through the night to bring us breakfast on day two. The unexpected visit to the first aid station by Sunny’s friend and her mom who gave up their vacation time just to support these crazy mountain girls. Seeing my husband’s headlamp as he walked up to meet me and lead me to the aid station in the wee hours of night two. All of these acts of kindness left me humbled and grateful and a little bit more hopeful about humanity.
As I headed down toward the aid station after Peak 11 the debate in my head continued. I was a mere 4 hours from my 60-hour cut-off and still had 3 peaks to go. There was no way I was going to make it. Should I continue? I had already been awake for 2 and a half days. How long could I go past 60 hours? Could I really ask my husband and our new pit crew friends to go through a third night? Eleven out of 14 peaks seemed respectable for a girl from sea level.
When I arrived at the aid station, I nearly burst into tears again – Ilana had braved her sickness and her two-year-old and driven hours to come to cheer me on. Dana and Andrew were committed to staying to the end – they even called in sick! In an amazing rebound, Sunny was feeling much better after sleep and rest and was up for coming back out with me for the final three. And the nice local runner Gavin showed up and had been waiting for hours for me to lead me through the night to complete the route. Cut off time be damned – we were going to finish this thing.
The third night was…rough. My feet were covered in blisters, every bush scratched the open cuts I’d already earned on my shins, the sleepies continued to gnaw at me. I slept 5 min at a time in the dirt whenever I fell asleep walking. But the sunset sky walking up to peak 12 was the best sky I’ve seen in my life and the stars were just as bright and my friends were cheery and positive. Sometimes it was even enjoyable – much of the time it was misery. But relentless forward progress eventually gets rewarded and I arrived on the final peak 68 hours and 45 min after leaving the fish hatchery. It was almost 72 hours by the time I arrived at the trailhead where the cars and my friends were waiting. As far as I know, I am the 4th woman to ever complete the route (even if it doesn’t really count) and the only person who has gone on past the cut off to complete it in a single push. Though technically our effort was a failure I can’t help but feel like it was a win. I learned so many lessons about resilience and mental fortitude and what it means to be kind and generous that I wouldn’t trade for any record. So many people made this journey possible and I am so grateful to them. We did it – and it was one heck of a ride.