Capitol Peak (Part 2): Night Terrors

-Maroon Bells- Snowmass Wilderness, CO-

Something felt off.

The storm had passed, leaving an eerie silence in its place. The usual forest sounds of birds chirping or deer darting into a clearing were noticeably absent. We were alone at Site 2, alone in the complete darkness that only the wilderness can provide. Stephen, Zoe, and I had camped in isolated darkness several times prior to this night and enjoyed the serenity of it all, but tonight was different.

Something felt off, and I could not shake the feeling of being watched.

I felt watched as we pitched our tents, watched as we ate dinner, and watched as we made the short five minute walk to Capitol Lake to refill our water supplies. Maybe it was just the knowledge that so many people had died on this mountain in the past few year that set me on edge, or maybe I was still jittery from the thunderstorm. Maybe not.

On the way to the lake, I turned to Zoe and asked, “does something feel off to you about this place?” expecting that I would find that I was just being paranoid.

“Yeah, it feels like we’re being watched. It’s really creepy.”

As we pumped water from the chilly lake, the shape of Capitol Peak towered directly above us. The sky was completely dark, but the mountain loomed darker. The lake’s surface was still and silent. The only sounds heard were the steady pumping of our water filters.

At last, it was time to return to the campsite and get some sleep. We would be getting an early 3 AM start on the trail.

As I often do, even under normal circumstances, I struggled to fall asleep that night. I stared at the ceiling of the tent as the moon began to rise. I never saw the moon itself, but as I looked outside the tent at 2 in the morning, I saw an ethereal blue glow emanating from behind the mountains. The glow was bright enough that I did not need a headlamp to look around the tent.

A few minutes later, Stephen woke up next to me and whispered, "David, did you hear that?"

"No, you're just hearing things. Maybe just an animal."

"No, listen. Whatever it is is walking around on two legs," Stephen insisted.

I listened.

It took a moment, but then I heard it too. There was definitely a two-legged person or thing pacing back and forth just feet away from our open-doored tent. Accompanying the sound of footsteps was a loud knocking, like knocking on a solid wood door. The footsteps and knocking sounds combined into one terrifying percussive soundscape.

Stephen and I both lay as quiet as possible in our sleeping bags. I was scared to even breathe. After what felt like an eternity of lying there and holding my breath, heart racing, Stephen decided to take a peek outside the tent with his headlamp.

Nothing. There was nothing there and the sounds stopped immediately.

"David, we can't tell Zoe about this until we're back to the car. I don't want to scare her," Stephen insisted. I agreed.

Stephen then decided to walk over to Zoe's tent and see if she was willing to get a start on the trail now, but she wanted another hour of sleep.

I didn't want to stay in the campsite another moment, but had no choice but to try to fall asleep again. A few minutes later, the footsteps and knocking started back up again.

Finally, our alarms all went off, signaling our 3 o'clock departure for Capitol Peak. Before we hit the trail, however, Zoe revealed that the blisters she had accumulated on her feet the day before were so painful that she could barely stand. After much discussion, we decided to press on anyway and see how she did. We were determined not to be turned back before we had even truly started to climb this legendary mountain.

We had hiked maybe ten minutes on a narrow trail surrounded on both sides with waist-high bushes when Stephen broke the silence.

"Hey guys, did you hear that?"

I had had enough of creepy sounds in the night, so I snapped back, "No, I didn't. It was probably nothing. Let's keep going."

"No David, I heard it too," Zoe said. She still did not know about the events at our campsite.

"I caught a glimpse of it too," Stephen added. "We're being followed by a mountain lion."

Compounding the stress of the situation was Zoe's worsening blisters. There was no sending her back to the campsite alone, especially now that a mountain lion lie between it and us and especially because of whatever was wandering our campsite. We decided that our only option was to try to push forward and get above tree line. Maybe the lion would leave us alone. Worst case scenario, we could wait for the sun to rise and decide what to do then.

We had taken only a few steps forward when we saw several sets of green eyes descending the mountain toward us. Not sure what lay ahead and certain that a mountain lion was behind, we froze. We seemed trapped and terror set in.

A few feet to my left, I heard a sound that I'll never forget. A sinister-sounding growl mixed with a hiss that sounded truly evil exploded far too close for my own comfort. The idea that something dangerous was that close to me, yet I could not see it was truly intense.

Red headlamps are spooky

We decided that the only option was to push back to the campsite and hope for the best. With that decided and Stephen taking the lead, I followed on shaky legs, scared to look behind us. At last, we made it back to the campground.

All of us thoroughly shaken, we crammed into one tent, praying and waiting for the sun to rise.