Symbol In The Sky
Five miles into the hike up Mt. Sopris, as we pass the teal blue of Thomas Lake on our right flank, I search for the spruce tree.
“Hilary, is that the one?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I think it’s farther up.”
I turn back toward the ridge above and continue on. The last time Hilary and I were here, a year ago, water was rushing down these trails; a hail and lightning storm had moved in during our descent. Shouting to one another amid the thunder, Hilary, our friend Stephanie, and I ran down the path. We scrabbled off the trail and stacked, single file, under the prickly, wet branches of a spruce—which provided almost no relief. I crouched at the bottom of our curious little totem pole of three; my bare legs were covered in red welts. It was August 12.
“It’ll stop soon,” I said.
“You keep saying that,” Hilary and Stephanie both replied.
Only 20 or so minutes before, we’d been heading down when we crossed paths with Hayden Kennedy on his way up. Hayden was an outstanding alpinist whom we all loved magazine, where I worked with his parents. He was always kind to my sons, who looked up to him. Hayden, 27, was recovering from shoulder surgery and, with his worldwide mountain adventures at bay, embracing a change: He was set to leave Colorado the next day for Montana and a new life with the young woman he loved, Inge Perkins.
