The two dogs with us were Bender and Coola. Bender, Sarah's four-legged companion, was always by Sarah's side on this hike. The worse the climbing and conditions got the closer he was to Sarah. It appeared as if he feared being lost. On past hikes I seem to remember Bender always bounding around running ahead and off into the woods to chase a scent. But today he was not that enthusiastic. Coola was a dog Pam was babysitting for the day. Simply put, that dog is nuts. It was the most hyper animal I can remember. It never stopped moving, and when we stopped a stood still Coola would whimper and cry with impatience. It was a bit annoying. I did have a bit of sympathy for Coola. He had long hair on his belly that was completely caked with at least 20 extra pounds of ice in the form of snowballs. They danged down like heavy ceramic balls on a Christmas tree. The combination of the heat from his body with the high snow he was running through acted as a collector. Driven by sympathy, each of us at some point in the hike tried to remove some of the ice balls. It was virtually impossible though. Coola did not seem to notice either way.

The skiers tracks were completely gone and we were left blazing our own trail in the deepening snow. This to me is my favorite part of snowshoeing… feeling like a pioneer in the thick virgin snow. I felt half guilty trespassing the peaceful beauty. The wind was the artist, the snow its paint, the trees and landscape were the canvas. It was a beautiful sight.

I was well back of the others snapping pictures in a furious effort to digitally capture the moment. A camera cannot capture an experience completely, but my hope is always to record a trigger to the memories in my head that might be drawn out later when viewed. Photography can be for images sake, but this was an attempt at record keeping for me. Of course it is nice to hang some of them on my walls.

The sun was out and bright, but an occasional low cloud would cover it briefly before it moved off quickly in the intensifying wind. We came to about 9,000 feet where the trees were engaged in a millennial old battle for space among exposed jagged rocks. Not even the snow or ice could win against the rocks. On several wind-swept hills we traipsed across the battlefield on the cold rocks making a distinctive noise that could only be felt in the loud wind. We were in the middle of the battle of the wind in cooperation with the snow relentlessly trying to lodge itself in and around the craggy surfaces. There were lonely pine trees waging their own battle with the climate for existence and with the rocks for real estate. They certainly had to be hearty to endure this type of punishment. It started to feel like we were on an epic trip to the summit of an international famous peak. At this point we had every article of clothing on and our hoods covering all exposed skin. Communication was limited to hand gestures and shouting. It definitely felt adventurous.

We came to the base of the last bit of climbing to the top of Hahn’s Peak. The wooded observation platform was visible right on the top. All around, the approach was barren with nothing but a rocky, hard packed thin snowy layer. We all paused as if to take stock in the approach. It was clear Pam did not want to go any further, Tommy was reluctant due to the safety factor and I don’t think Sarah minded either way. Pam retreated below to a clump of trees that provided some shelter. She took her hyper dog Coola with her. Tommy made an attempt to convince me it was too dangerous in these harsh conditions to go to the top. I did not want to have any of that kind of talk and I gave him my answer when I turned and just started walking up to the top. I was saying, “Follow me of wait for me.”

Later, on the way down, Tommy talked to me about how little things like cold fingers, a sore body part and dehydration could turn into disaster in conditions like that. I agreed, but felt smart enough not to push the limits too far. He thought it was better to be safe. I countered with saying, “Yeah, but it is probably safest to stay in the comfortable padding of your bed all day long, but you would not experience much that way.” In short, small risks were living for me, and this was certainly a minor one. He was diplomatic and said, “point taken.” Inside I had hoped I did not make a bad impression by being too forceful. I guess I felt it was rare for me to be in Steamboat in such a great atmosphere on that mountain and I wanted to take advantage of it. Perhaps that is the danger Tommy was trying to point out to me. One can get lost in the excitement and lose track of everything else. Point taken, Tommy.

We made it to the top in no time as the distance was deceptively short. The wind was completely howling up there as if angry that Hahn’s Peak was in the way of its impatient push eastward. The wood structure on top was coated with layers of brittle snow that reach out in the opposite direction of the wind. It looked like white icicles forgetful of the laws of gravity. There was a cornice of snow on the side of the mountain away from the wind. It was built in several layers and there was no knowing how deep it might have been. Sarah and Tommy repeatedly reminded me to stay clear of it. While it was not death defyingly steep, there was no telling what was beneath it. We each posed for several pictures collecting our trophy. There was a small sheltered area under the wood structure that provided complete coverage from the wind to allow us to talk over the fierce noise of the wind.

We spent about 10 minutes savoring the harsh beauty of the peak and enjoying the occasional view of the valleys far below between the fast moving clouds of precipitation. On the way off the barren peak I took the coolest set of pictures of Sarah and Tommy with the wooden hut, the sun and the changing clouds in the background. They really look adventurous.

We had fun romping down the slopes and bounding down the hills in the deep snow. There were many pictures taken. Pam seemed very impatient and was mostly silent on the way down. Sarah went ahead to placate her attitude. We all stopped and took a fun series of pictures in an open area surrounded by a few trees.

The trek to the bottom took a very short period of time and was so fast it seemed it was a different trail.

Once I got to the car, and took off many of my layers I could feel that I was very damp. I am not sure if it was from sweet or from all the rolling around in the snow I had done. The cold finally caught up with me and the warmth of the car was welcome.

It was a fantastic day of hiking and in the scheme of world adventures it was quite tame, but it was far enough removed from my daily life for it to be considered a big adventure. I am lucky to have experienced it and take the pictures I did. Thanks to my cool and adventurous sister Sarah for setting that one up and knowing how much I would like the hike.

See the Web Photo Gallery for a more complete set of pictures.

Adam Langley
Atlanta, GA