Finding Peace within the Four Pass Loop

May 10, 2020June 4, 2020Trip Review Linda Johnson

A Note: As anxiety and uncertainty run rampant during the COVID-19 quarantine, nature continues to bring me peace. I may not be able to enjoy it as freely as I’d like right now, but even quick hikes and walks in view of the mountains bring me joy. And it reminds me of another time that nature healed my broken spirit...

In 2019, my sister and I had planned to do our first “solo” backpacking trip. After doing many day hikes together and successfully summiting Kilimanjaro on an 8-day guided trek, we were ready to take the plunge. We planned to do the Four Pass Loop: a 4-day backpacking loop around the legendary Maroon Bells, complete with four 12,000-ft+ passes and some of the most breathtaking scenery in the Maroon Bells- Snowmass Wilderness area.

Our original plan was to complete the hike in mid-July. But due to some epic snowfall and avalanches, the trails were impassable. So, we decided to reschedule for late August. I had planned every step of our trip: our path, how far we would go each day, our gear, our food, how we would handle water crossings, and more. And we were so ready.

But the universe had something else in store for us. In mid-August, our 97 year old grandmother became quite ill. And on August 28, she passed away. She had an incredibly full life, living nearly a century. However, it didn’t make the loss any easier. Grams was my person. She and I would gab for hours every time I visited her. And she always told me that we had kindred spirits– that she was seeing the world through my eyes. She was proud of my explorer’s heart and always supported my travels, even if she didn’t always understand them. She would actually brag to her friends about her granddaughter who had been to all seven continents and her two granddaughters who had climbed Kilimanjaro together.

So after she passed, my sister and I knew that the best way to honor our grandmother and heal our broken hearts was to take this adventure in nature together. So, we set out, determined to make it happen no matter what.

DAY 1

The trailhead began in front of the beautiful Maroon Bells, the most photographed spot in Colorado. And it’s no wonder why.

We started the hike with 37-pound packs and decided to go clockwise– the most popular direction to go. We didn’t bring any luxuries: just a good winter tent (it gets cold at altitude at night!), a bear canister (required in these parts), our food, trekking poles, and gear. The beginning of the trail was very rocky and steep, but we were excited to begin our journey.

A few miles in, we came across a stream and decided to filter water. However, this proved more difficult than originally anticipated. I had brought a gravity bag to filter our water which is a great filter to use, but only works if there are trees to hang it from. Unfortunately, for us, it was shrubs for days. After trying everything (including just trying to hold the bag above my head…. we were desperate!), we came across a group of hikers who helped us find a tree stump perched off of a ledge. That did the trick! We then found a campsite at about 11,600 feet in elevation, cooked dinner, hid our bear canisters and went to bed exhausted and excited for our first two mountain passes the next day.

Day 2

We woke up before sunrise in order to hit the trail early. We needed to complete two mountain passes before noon to avoid hitting any inclement weather while exposed above tree line. West Maroon Pass was up first (12,590 ft), and it was a steep and narrow hike. But it was gorgeous and the views were completely breathtaking.

As we descended and made our way to Frigid Air Pass, the wild flowers were in full bloom and the sky was idyllic. It gave us a moment to reflect on what we were doing, what we were accomplishing, and what we had lost. In the midst of this beauty, we knew this was something Grams would have loved to see. And it made us feel closer to her in some way.

We made our way to Frigid Air Pass (12,415 ft). And while we heard that it was the easiest of the four, it certainly didn’t seem to be the case. It was steep and rocky, causing me to lose my footing more than once. But, again, the views were incredible from the top.

After we descended, we came upon King Falls which was spectacular. We considered camping near here, but decided to keep pressing ahead to give ourselves a better head start the next day.

We camped in a beautiful clearing, although overrun by insects. During this experience, we mastered the art of the “defensive swat”, keeping bugs out of our tent while we unzipped 😂

DAY 3

This was my absolute favorite day of our hike. We started the day by crossing a freezing stream as we made our way to the most difficult pass: Trail Rider (12,420 ft). This was the steepest of the passes, requiring you to climb 1000′ in just one mile. But the weather was beautiful and the views were unbeatable. I mean, c’mon…

We couldn’t wait to make our way down to Snowmass Lake, where we would be making camp for the night. But to get there, we needed to cross a massive rock slide which was super fun.

And when we finally got to camp, we were not disappointed. It was by far the most crowded of the campsites, but that is only because of how stunning the location is. We ate by the lake, did some much needed stretching and yoga, and did a bit of star gazing. We were able to truly relax and had completely lost track of the things that cluttered our daily minds: texts, emails, work issues, social media, and everything else. We were able to focus on the moment, the experience, and to reflect on our grief. It was exactly what we had needed.

We headed back to camp at dark and experienced only one snafu: Diana sliced her hand open in our tent, requiring me to fetch our bandages from our bear canister in the pitch black. Not gonna lie… it was pretty spooky walking in the woods late at night to fetch a canister full of things that attract bears. But it was also kind of thrilling.

Day 4

Buckskin (12,500 ft) was by far our easiest ascent. In fact, it was so gradual at parts, we had a hard time deciphering which mountain we were actually climbing! And when we finally did reach the pass, we found a social trail to the actual peak. We decided to take the extra time to make the climb and have lunch at the top. And it was well worth it.

As we finished the day and grew closer to “civilization”, we were proud of what we had accomplished. We had navigated the wilderness by ourselves. We had filtered our own water. We had cooked our own food. We used bear canisters. We set up and took down our tents. We completed four epic mountain passes over the course of four days. And most importantly, we knew Grams would have been proud of us too.

One of the Seven Summits for My Seventh Continent

February 25, 2019February 25, 2019Inspiraton, Trip Review Linda Johnson 1 Comment

When I was 15, I set a goal for myself– to reach all seven continents by the time I was 30 (because, ya know, 30 is so old). And this past June, I made it. I was 31, not 30, since some torn tendons and ligaments in my foot delayed my Antarctica trip a year and, therefore, pushed back Africa a year. But, hey, I was pretty darn close. And it was even more amazing than I had hoped.

Africa had always been at the top of my bucket list, which is why I saved it for last. I had considered many ways of experiencing Africa for the first time– a safari through Botswana, the Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, and wine country in South Africa sounded like a pretty good plan. But I knew I wanted to do something epic to commemorate my achievement of reaching all seven continents. So, instead of a luxurious glamping trip filled with food and wine, I opted for an 8 day climb of Kilimanjaro and a safari through the Serengeti with REI. And I couldn’t have been happier with the outcome.

My sister Diana and I made our way to Kilimajaro Airport in early June to take on the first climb of the season on the Lemosho route. Lemosho is a popular route, famous for its beautiful views and its lengthy trek, giving you the best chance of acclimatizing and making it to the summit. And while I am an avid hiker, I was nervous about this climb. It is, after all, nearly a mile higher than any mountain in Colorado. Would I be strong enough to make it? Would I get altitude sickness? Excitement and fear swirled around within me. I didn’t want my epic seventh continent adventure to be an epic failure.

But, as we arrived on Tanzanian soil late in the evening, that fear seemed to dissipate. Instead, I was nearly in tears. This was the moment I had worked so hard for– the moment I stepped foot on my seventh continent. I had made it. I had experienced the beauty of Europe, the wonder and solitude of Antarctica, the wild of Australia, the culture of South America, the excitement of Asia, the serenity of home, and now, I was stepping foot onto the beautiful continent of Africa. For a moment, I just took it all in and forgot about the upcoming climb.

The next day, we met the rest of our group–10 amazing individuals from across the country who were also drawn to this beautiful mountain. And we met our lead guide and assistant guide: Kibacha and Omur. We received a lengthy safety briefing and they checked all of our gear. And we were so ready to get started.

The first day of the climb was quite easy and short. I think it existed simply to build our confidence. We stopped periodically in the rainforest and watched monkeys jump from tree to tree. And when we arrived at camp for the first night, we were met by 70+ (!!) porters, waiters, cooks, and assistant guides who were there to celebrate with us. We danced, we sang, and we ate like royalty. Thank youuuuu, REI.

Our crew was incredible. Every day, they ran ahead on the trail like superheroes and every night, we danced and sang together.

As the days progressed, the hike was increasingly more difficult. We climbed high and slept low to acclimate, and stayed true to our guides words of wisdom of “pole pole” or “slowly slowly”. The days were filled with fun, laughter, labored breathing, and beauty as the landscape changed from rainforest to moorlands to alpine desert, and summit. And every night, we would congregate in the mess tent, eat wonderfully prepared food, drink peppermint tea to settle our stomachs, take our vitals, and send a lot of “emails” (the words our guides adorably used to mean “going to the bathroom”), since altitude medication seems to make you pee every 15 minutes.

My favorite day of the climb was the day of Barranco Wall. This 800′ cliff seems to go straight up and requires a bit of scrambling and fancy footwork. This, of all of the days, is the one that people seem to get most nervous about because it is the biggest obstacle to overcome other than the summit itself. But I had an absolute blast on the Wall– it felt like we were climbing through an adult jungle gym on our way to the top of the mountain. And our amazing guides seemed to effortlessly help us find our footing and make it successfully to the top.

Climbing Barranco Wall through the rain.

As we made it to basecamp at 15’980′, we were given a few hours to rest before starting our summit attempt at midnight. The winds were howling and it felt like our tents were going to blow right off the side of the mountain. Paired with our nerves, I don’t think anyone got a wink of sleep. It was below freezing and I wore several shirts, pants, socks, and gloves in order to stay warm for the hike. I looked and felt like the Michelin man.

As we started the summit climb in the middle of the night, with only headlamps at the footsteps of those in front of us to guide our way, we quickly realized that this was going to be more difficult than we had anticipated. The unusually long rainy season in Tanzania this year created three feet of snow and ice beneath our feet and prevented us from being able to stop and take breaks. Where there wasn’t ice, there was deep scree. Even the guides were not used to these conditions, but they were far more sure-footed than us. We used our trekking poles to stabilize our positions and prevent ourselves from sliding back with each step. On top of this, we had strong, cold winds blowing on our faces. As I had already come down with a terrible chest cold, the wind made it feel like I was breathing out of a tiny straw. And we had 3361′ to climb. Thankfully, Sayid, one of the assistant guides, stayed with me as I went super “pole pole” in order to catch what little breath I had, and make it to the summit at my own pace.

As I made it to the top, I saw the sun rise above the clouds and illuminate the peak and the massive glacier to the side. I saw my sister waiting for me at the summit. And I couldn’t have been happier about my decision to climb Kilimanjaro. The view was unlike anything I had ever seen– almost otherworldly. We quickly took pictures to commemorate the occasion and started on our way back down the mountain.

But, what we didn’t know was that going down the mountain would be even more difficult than climbing up. We had already been hiking for 7+ hours, our water had frozen, and we were too high in elevation to eat anything, so we had to muster the rest of our strength to make it back to basecamp through deep scree, steep cliffs and ice. But when we made it back, we were met with smiling faces and fresh juice to refresh us. We then had two hours to rest before we had to continue down another 3500′ in order to make it to a safe altitude.

As we finished the climb and made our way off of Kilimanjaro, I was struck by how profound this experience had been. I had pushed myself to do more than I thought possible. I made new friends with incredible people. I saw stunning landscapes that seemed to come out of a storybook. And I stood on the Roof of Africa looking over a beautiful country full of beautiful people.

I truly couldn’t have picked a better way to commemorate my seventh continent. Kilimanjaro, you are in my heart forever.

The whole crew celebrating on the way down the mountain.

The Mountains are Calling

July 24, 2017July 24, 2017Inspiraton, Just Personal, Trip Review Linda Johnson

In all of my travels, I’ve found one thing to be true: if you travel for nature, it will nurture your soul. And lately, I’m feeling well nurtured.

You see, last weekend I went to REI Outessa. If you don’t know what that is, it’s what I would describe as adventure camp for women: camping, hiking, rock climbing, kayaking, mountain biking, etc. All the things I love or would love to do, if only I knew how (Except for mountain biking. That shit freaks me out.) And based on the s age advice of a stranger who had traveled the world, I not only signed up for this little excursion, I decided to go it alone.

Now, I get it. It’s not as though I traveled to Botswana on my own (although, maybe someday?!). It was in the beautiful Sierra Nevada mountains. But it still meant that I would be spending 3 1/2 days on my own, doing a bunch of things I don’t know how to do, in front of a bunch of badass women who didn’t know me, in a place I had never been, and at an altitude that would make physical exertion a bit tricky. Intimidating? I think, yes.

But it wasn’t.

Because on my drive in from the Reno airport, you know what I saw? The mountains. And the mountains were why I went in the first place. The mountains both make me feel like I’m at home and intimidate the crap out of me. And I find that to be the perfect balance of life. So whatever else this weekend was going to throw at me, it didn’t matter. Because I was there for the mountains.

And the mountains were there for me.

The mountains became my literal home. I camped on the bunny hill of the mountain resort. The darkness, the stars, the sounds, the breezes, and, yes, even the bugs became part of my home. And although I discovered that camping on a slope is the WORST, I figured out how to adjust and kept that beautiful spot.

I was one of the first ones there to set up camp

The mountains became my playground. I climbed rocks, hiked steep (STEEP) paths, and kayaked and stand-up paddle boarded through its lakes. I cut my arm, bruised my legs and fell at least twice. And while doing that on the streets of Chicago would have me cussing under my breath (or a bit louder, depending on the situation), somehow there, I wanted to thank the mountains for giving me battle scars that proved my hard work.

The mountains became my source of inspiration and rejuvenation. There is nothing like waking up in the morning and seeing the sun rise over the mountains. Or eating dinner with a view of them. I mean, c’mon. Just look at them. My mood was lifted 1242432432% just sitting there, not moving a muscle. Honestly, my mood is lifted right now just looking at the pictures.

Dinner Saturday night was insane. Look at that view!

And while I learned serious outdoor and survival skills while I was with the REI crew and met some of the most incredible, badass ladies I could have imagined, that’s not why I went. I went because the mountains were calling.

I needed to stop staring at my computer screen for a minute. I needed to see that my issues are largely insignificant in the grander scheme. I needed to feel challenged and scared and outside of my comfort zone. I needed to feel strong. And I needed to realize that I too was actually one of the badass ladies on this trip.

The famous wilderness preservation advocate, John Muir, once said “The mountains are calling and I must go.” And no quote has ever spoken more to me. The mountains are why I went on this trip and so many others. And it’s why I decided to pick up my entire life and move to Colorado later this week. I started paying attention to the mountains. And I must go.

So whether the mountains, the beach, the river, the woods, the desert, the rain forest, the sea, or anything else calls for you, pick it up and just go. Trust me, it’s always worth it.

Why You Should Visit the Least Visited National Park

March 26, 2017March 27, 2017Planning, Trip Review Linda Johnson

It’s officially springtime! And while spring marks the beginning of many wonderful things (March Madness, warmer temps, blooming flowers, rooftop bars, etc.), the most wonderful thing it marks is prime season for many National Parks.

I mean, c’mon, our country is full of some mind-blowing National Parks: the Grand Canyon to the Grand Tetons, the Great Basin to the Great Smoky Mountains, Crater Lake to Lake Clark. And after another r ecord-setting year of 325 million visitors, the Parks are gaining even more attention these days (#Badasslands, anyone?). But there’s one hidden gem you won’t hear much about– one National Park that flies so far under the radar that fewer people visit it in one year than visit Yosemite in one day. It’s not because it lacks in beauty or splendor. It’s just because it’s so damn hard to get to and to get around. But trust me, it’s worth the trek.

Here’s why Isle Royale should be your next National Park:

1. The Quiet

One of the biggest draws of our National Parks is that you can experience nature at its finest: sprawling mountains, rolling hills, and wildlife in their natural habitats. But sometimes the line of cars and tens of thousands of other people talking and hiking next to you can, well… detract from the “natural” experience.

Isle Royale, on the other hand, remains seemingly untouched. As an island in the middle of Lake Superior, Isle Royale can only be reached by boat or seaplane from Michigan and Minnesota. And the only way to get around the 893 square mile island is by foot or by canoe. No cars. No hotels. No blaring music. No large groups of people. No cell phone service. No wifi.

Just you, your friends, and nature’s wonders.

That alone was enough for me to sign up. But wait, there’s more…

2. The Adventure

It’s a fact: a trip to Isle Royale is built on adventure.

Once you’re dropped off on the island, you’re there until your boat or seaplane is scheduled to return (typically 4 – 6 days later). And save for a small lodge on the East side of the island, there are very few amenities anywhere, unless you count any of the following: a few campsites, outhouses, a wall of drawings outlining which berries are safe to eat, and a warning that you are not allowed to build fires on the island.

Once you arrive, you will hike on any number of “well-marked” trails that will push you to climb large hills, walk through miles of tall grasses, balance on flimsy wooden boards and tree roots, and navigate around swamps. And, if you’re anything like me, you’ll get lost once or twice as you try to make it to your next campsite before sundown.

You’ll have to filter the water you collect in order to drink it. You’ll get hit by weather. And the only items you’ll have are the ones you’re carrying on your back.

Do you smell an adventure? I think so.

Sure, to some, this can seem scary and maybe even crazy. You may be asking yourself, “Why would you subject yourself to this kind of torture?”. But I think the better question to ask is “How often do you really go all-in on something to see what you’re made of?”.

Not enough? Keep going.

3. The Beauty

I was genuinely surprised by how beautiful and diverse the landscape was across this island. The soft tides of inner lakes lulled us to sleep at our campsites. The huge trees of the forests seemed to go on for days. The stars were so clear, I felt like we could touch them. And the tall grasses were….super tall…and so obnoxious as they whipped across our faces for hours on end.

But, really, that’s the point.

At Isle Royale, you don’t just observe nature, you’re in nature. It’s not about you. It’s about experiencing and preserving the beauty of this incredible island, obnoxious tall grasses and all. And you truly begin to appreciate its beauty in big and small ways.

Take the smallest of its amazing beauties: the thimbleberry. Similar to a raspberry in shape and color, they have a sweetness that rivals that of cheesecake. So, much to Matt’s dismay, I stopped and ate those berries all along the trails. And I can say with certainty that every stop was worth it.

A larger beauty is the moose that wander across the island. There are thousands that inhabit the island and on my last day, I was lucky enough to have six or seven run right past my tent on their way to a nearby lake. I sat and watched them for hours as they cooled off in the water and relaxed.

What’s better than a beautiful locale?

4. The Achievement

It’s impossible to not feel a sense of achievement when you complete your time on Isle Royale.

I mean, after hiking 50+ miles with 40+ pounds on my back, sleeping for five nights in a tent, living on MREs and thimbleberries, filtering my water to avoid getting parasites, and having no connection to the outside world, I felt fairly accomplished.

But it wasn’t just because I had conquered my fears and gone outside of my comfort zone. (My biggest concern prior to this trip was why the hell I needed to buy a trowel and what it was supposed to be used for.) It was also because I felt incredibly lucky to be able to see something so awe-inspiring. To experience a place so full of wonder and beauty that I didn’t miss my cell phone or my comforts of home. To do something that felt bigger than myself.

So when, at the end of the trail, we discovered a tiny store that sold popsicles, wine and a few souvenirs (OMG! A hidden gem!), Matt and I dug in to celebrate. We had just achieved something great. And I hope you will too.

Isle Royale opens on April 16. Take a chance and book the trip. And let me know how you enjoy it.

The 6 Most Badass Things About My 6th Continent

March 16, 2017March 19, 2017Just Personal, Trip Review Linda Johnson

In case you didn’t know, I’m on a mission to reach all 7 continents.

While I could gush for hours about each one I’ve been lucky enough to visit, I most recently made it to Antarctica and it holds a very special place in my heart (and a special hole in my bank account). Some of you crazy folks may also have this spot on your list while others who are more sane may be asking yourselves, “Wait, you can visit Antarctica? What is there to do there? Where do you stay? Why would you go?” Regardless of which group you’re in, this countdown to the 6 most badass things about Antarctica should give you a good perspective about why it I think it’s so….well, badass.

The 6 Most Badass Things About Antarctica

6. The wildlife.

This probably seems like the most obvious point because people generally know that penguins live in Antarctica. And penguins are arguably one of the most adorable creatures alive (albeit also one of the smelliest). See evidence below:

However, the wildlife was actually one of the most surprising things throughout the trip.

First, the penguins. I was lucky enough to hang out with two types: the cute and playful gentoo that nipped at my pants and ran between my legs and the chinstrap that always looked ready for a wrestling match. It’s just a fact that walking around with penguins never gets old.

Beyond the penguins, I was able to see leopard seals, crabeater seals (fun fact– they don’t eat crabs…), weddell seals, fur seals (another fun fact- fur seals are actually sea lions, not seals…who names all of these species?!), all sorts of birds and more than my fair share of humpback whales. But more than just seeing these animals at a distance, I felt like I was experiencing the world with them. Not behind bars. Not in a controlled environment. I was on their turf and had to abide by their rules. In fact, I was chased by a fur seal after forgetting everything about my safety briefing. I was hissed at by a crabeater seal. I saw two humpback whales leap out of the water in the wild like you only see on a Mac screensaver. And I saw penguins “porpoise” through the water with ease right next to our ship. It was truly wildlife at its finest.

5. The scale and the indescribable beauty.

When you’re in Antarctica, you feel like you’re on an entirely different planet. There is no frame of reference and nothing that quite prepares you for the vastness of…well, everything. Mountains are everywhere. The icebergs are as tall as skyscrapers. The clouds are so low you feel like you can touch them. It was as if the world had combined the beauty of Heaven as depicted in What Dreams May Come and the whimsy of a Dr. Seuss book.

And as if Antarctica wasn’t showing off enough, one night the sky was so clear we not only saw the Southern Cross in all of its glory, but the entire Milky Way Galaxy.

4. The people.

When I was planning my Antarctic adventure, I thought I had considered everything: the ship, the safety, the landings, the gear, etc. etc. But what I hadn’t considered was that there would be 82(ish) fascinating people on this voyage with me.

The passengers hailed from all over the world. Ages ranged from 17 – 88. Occupations ranged from firefighters to retired Federal Judges. But everyone had their own reason to spend their time and their money on a ship that “wasn’t made for comfort” to get to a place with no hotels, no restaurants and no standard entertainment.

Take Ted, for example. At 85 years old, he came solo from the States. He brought 30 disposable cameras to capture the experience (swoon) and wasn’t going to miss a thing– he climbed to the top of glaciers right beside us, offered me binoculars so I could better see the Milky Way and told stories of his life of travel. I was lucky enough to meet 82 people as cool as Ted.

So while I didn’t intend on sharing this voyage with so many others, it made it a richer and more wonderful experience, creating friendships and inspiring my future travels.

A group of explorers celebrating with champagne.

3. The Drake Passage.

It’s a common saying that you have to “earn” Antarctica. And there are fewer things in life I love more than a good challenge. The main way you earn it is by crossing the treacherous waters of the Drake Passage*. Notoriously known as the roughest seas in the world, conditions can change on a dime and waves can get a bit out of hand.

While we were lucky enough on the way to Antarctica to get the “Drake Lake”, it turned out that our ship didn’t have what’s called a stabilizer, or ya know, the thing that keeps your ship from rocking all over the place. Even more, on the way back, we had to outrun an off-scale hurricane, bringing us to a level of sea roughness called the “Drake Shake”. This was when showering became an olympic sport and the ship doctor started passing out sea sickness medication at meals like she was offering Holy Communion.

The weather forecast of our missed hurricane on the way back from Antarctica.

*Another way you “earn” Antarctica is by doing the polar plunge. And thanks to the encouragement from a few folks onboard the ship (see #4 above), that challenge was accepted and aced.

2. The ice.

When we first got on the ship, one of our expedition staff members introduced himself as the “ice expert.” I kept thinking… “Ummm…How does one become an ice expert? Water freezes at 32°F, yeah? What more is there to know?” However, The minute I saw my first iceberg, I understood what an idiot I had been.

It turns out that I took more than 450 photos of ice. Just ice! Before the trip, I would have thought that was crazy. But now I see each piece of ice like its own beautiful work of art to never be recreated or seen again in quite the same way.

1. The silence.

One of the most startling things about visiting Antarctica was the pure silence of visiting it. And I don’t just mean because there are no cities, crowds of people, gobs of cars, etc. I also mean that there is no (reliable) internet connection, no cell phone service, no true connection to the “real” world. And I’ll tell ya what, the world truly becomes a “real” place the further you get from the “real” world. You start talking to people. Actual people. Like the people in front of you. You begin letting your mind wander. Do you remember the last time you just imagined things? Thought broadly about your future? Took in a landscape for hours just because it was that fucking beautiful? No? Neither had I. Until I got past the noise of daily life and took in the beauty of silence. And with all of its grandeur, it’s the respect that Antarctica deserves.

The Relentless Traveler

Trip Review