Pfeifferhorn

Given the complexity of COVID-19 this year, I made a rather drastic change in my personal life.  I left my job at West High school as the CAS Coordinator for IB.  I miss working with the students and staff, and still wish every success for the International Baccalaureate Programme there.  Deep in my heart though, I knew this was the season to make myself more available for my family at home.

Initially, I thought I would be helping Annika with virtual school from home every day.  Since she is now attending Woods Cross Elementary four days a week, I actually have more free time than I ever anticipated.  Don't get me wrong--I am still quite busy, especially in the afternoons and evenings.  Overall though, I feel less stressed and overwhelmed.  I think this calm is beneficial for the mental health of the entire family.  After all, we all know that if mom ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

The best part is that on Tuesdays I have a large enough chunk of free time to hike.  Over the past few weeks, I've been tackling some of the taller summits in the region.  Each week I tell myself that this will be the last time because the weather is going to change, so I should enjoy it.  Then the next week the weather is still beautiful and I hike again!  But really, fall won't last forever.  One big snowfall and these trails will have to wait until late spring.

My first big solo hike was up the Pfeifferhorn. (In the words of Uncle Adam, Gesundheit.)  To tell the truth, this day was one giant adrenaline rush.  I'd been hiking only a mile and a half when I saw this mama moose right on the trail.  Farther down the mountain, you could see/hear three other moose crashing through the bushes, including a baby that was braying constantly.  Who knew baby moose could be so noisy?  A couple of other hikers and I did our best to convince this mama to move.  When she finally did, she moved up the mountain a little ways, putting the trail right in between mama moose and the baby, who was way down the mountain by this point.  Talk about an impasse!

After a long while, I was finally able to slip by, heart pounding from the encounter.  Red Pine Lake was worth the wait.  

Looking out on the scene, my heart calmed.  I kept hearing the lyrics: 

When through the woods
And forest glades I wander
I hear the birds
Sing sweetly in the trees,
When I look down
From lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook
And feel the gentle breeze,
Then sings my soul,
My Savior God, to Thee,
How great Thou art!
How great Thou art!

From this view, you can see both upper and lower red pine lakes.

The climb to the saddle was rocky, steep, and challenging.  I lost the trail and scared myself by getting onto terrain that was far too loose.  I really didn't want to become part of a giant rockslide!  Once at the saddle, the views were stunning.

The challenge wasn't over yet, though.  I still had to climb over some giant boulders at the spine and scramble up to the summit. I wasn't alone--other hikers were tackling the finish as well, but it was still a bit terrifying.

Don't fall!  I've learned that I'm not afraid of heights as long as the ground is firm beneath me.  However, I am not interested in any sort of exposure if the trail is crumbly and eroded.  Not to worry--I went super slowly and carefully, testing every single hand and foothold.  It just took me forever.

Views from the top were spectacular.  

For me, the Pfeifferhorn was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  As in, I will tackle this summit on my own only once in this lifetime.  It was tremendous, and I'm so grateful I made it safely.  Still, I promised myself that for future hikes I will stick to trails that are more familiar and less technical.

By the time I made it back to the bottom, I'd spent enough time in the aspens to know that while in the future I want to be more careful, I definitely want to hike here again.

After all, the mountains are music to my soul.