Capitol Peak (Part 3): The Edge of a Knife

-Maroon Bells- Snowmass Wilderness, CO-

The sun rose revealing a beautiful summer morning without a single cloud spotting the perfectly blue sky. Still, shaken by the previous night, I was ready to pack up the campsite and hike back to the cars without even attempting to summit Capitol. I wanted nothing more to do with this mountain or the forest beneath it. I was ready to forever abandon my long-time goal of finally summitting Colorado’s most infamous peak. After all, it was probably too late in the morning to try it anyway.

“David, we should try. The weather is looking perfect. We have to at least try,” Stephen argued.

My fear and my previous determination fought inside of me. Climbing Capitol would more than likely mean we’d have to spend another night at the campsite. Leaving would mean I’d probably never come back, and I would never make it to the summit.

“Ok, let’s do it"

Zoe, comfortable to stay at the campsite alone during the daytime, stayed behind as Stephen and I began our ascent.

We made it past the stretch where we had encountered the mountain lion without an animal in sight. Shortly, the trail twisted and turned up a steep grassy slope to the saddle. From that point on, we would be scrambling over rocks and following cairns instead of a well-defined trail.

Once we left the trail behind, we were faced with a seemingly endless field of boulders as far as the eye could see. The view of the path forward was daunting but beautiful in its otherworldliness. We seemed to have left the earth behind for some grey-stoned moon streaked with the occasional patch of snow.

For at least a couple of hours we followed the cairns across this boulder field as it slowly began to steepen as we neared our next checkpoint: K2. The heat from the uncovered sun was intense and Stephen began to feel sick as we stopped and started our way up to K2. Tired, but excited for the rest of the climb, we eventually summited K2.

The summit of K2 rests at 13,664 feet and, once summited, provides a breathtaking view of the route to the summit of Capitol Peak. From this point on, we would be scrambling up and across highly exposed and occasionally loose rock. From K2’s summit, we were also able to observe Capitol Peak’s most infamous feature, the feature that scares many away from even attempting this mountain: the Knife Edge.

Approaching the Knife Edge

The thought of traversing the Knife Edge filled me with a tremendous amount of anxiety. I had done enough research to know what to expect. Fortunately, the Knife Edge was composed of some of the most solid rock on the mountain. Combined with the fact that I am a fairly confident climber, crossing the Knife Edge would not be a technically difficult task. However, with nothing but air and a drop of hundreds of feet on either side, only the bravest are unaffected by the fear of the exposure.

As we descended K2 on the way down to the Knife Edge, I knew the time was drawing near. The Knife Edge was waiting for us, and we had to decide whether we wanted to keep going or turn back.

Some clouds began to form in the distance, but after some discussion we decided they were far enough away and not threatening enough to turn around now. Not when we had made it this far.

It was time to cross the Knife Edge.

I grabbed hold of the top and carefully positioned my feet into cracks along the left side of the edge. Trying to control my breathing, I slowly worked my way along the side, shifting feet and hands along the top and the side cracks respectively. A few moments later, I ran out of usable footholds. The rock was grippy enough that I probably could have just walked my feet along the side without cracks, but I was not willing to risk it. Instead, I swallowed my pride and gave into the oft-used “straddling” approach with one leg on either side of the knife.

Looking back at K2

Those next few minutes of scooting along the remainder of the 100 foot long ridge were absolutely terrifying. I felt as though a gust of wind or a poor shift in balance could send me tumbling over either side at any time. All the while, I knew that I would have to face the entire ridge again on the return trip.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the end of the Knife Edge, only to find that the route was just as precarious on the other side, just with a little more to hold onto. As I attempted to find a secure place to rest and slow my pounding heart, Stephen began his traversal of the Edge. Watching him cross was even more stressful than crossing myself. I worried that at any moment something would go wrong and I’d watch him plummet off the mountain.

Fortunately, Stephen too made it across the Knife Edge without much hassle. We re-evaluated the approaching clouds we had spotted early and were concerned to find they were nearing much more quickly than we had previously anticipated. Not only that, they had taken on a menacing grey color that threatened dangerous weather.

It was time to make a decision.

Once again, my compulsive desire to summit Capitol Peak found itself in tension with fear. Yet, this time the fear needed to be heeded. Lightning is one of the most dangerous elements in mountaineering and should never be taken lightly. Above tree line and perched atop some very exposed rocks, we were in no position to deal with a thunderstorm overhead. Yet, I desperately wanted to finish. We had come so far and were entering the final stretch. I was sure if we pushed on at a reasonable pace we could do it.

After a few minutes of discussion, safety and common sense won out over ambition. Unfortunately, this meant we had to cross the Knife Edge again, just minutes after crossing it the first time.

This time, I somehow got turned around halfway across so that I was straddling the Edge, pointing in the wrong direction. I felt so vulnerable in those tense moments of trying to readjust without losing balance. At last, I found myself pointed back where I wanted to go and successfully traversed the Knife Edge.

The rest of the descent to the campsite found us often looking back at the sky as we once again found ourselves racing nature. Within a quarter mile of the campsite, the sky confirmed that we had made the right decision to turn around. The rain began to fall, but not as heavily or consistently as the day before. The sky behind us, up on K2 and the Knife Edge looked truly nasty.

When we at last arrived back at the campsite, we found Zoe sunbathing on a rock and enjoying the nice weather that had not been affected by the rain up on the peak.

We had another decision to make. The day was young enough that we could potentially hike back to the parking lot and avoid spending another night in those woods. Even in the daytime, the mountain exuded a feeling of dread. I, for one, was not looking forward to staying overnight again. However, Stephen and I were both exhausted from our climb and we’d still have a four hour drive after the hike. Both Stephen and Zoe voted to stay and get an early start after sunrise.

The sun set and the sun rose, blessing us with a quiet night without incident. The hike back to the car was equally uneventful.

As we left the mountain, the forest, and everything natural (and potentially supernatural) within it behind us, we all felt grateful to have made it out safely.

Thinking back on this three day adventure stirs up many different emotions. I do feel proud about summitting K2 and successfully crossing the Knife Edge. I pushed myself and accomplished something I thought impossible just a couple of years before. I feel disappointed that we didn’t summit. I’m not mad at myself; I’m sure if the weather had been better I could have done it.

Typically, I’d say, “well, I’ll just come back and do it again.” Maybe I will, but I still get goosebumps thinking about some of our experiences in that wilderness, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I am extremely hesitant to return and spend another night in the shadow of Capitol Peak.

Finally, I feel thankful that I did get to experience a beautiful piece of America that is not often visited. I am thankful that I got to pursue my dream of climbing Capitol Peak alongside two supportive people who were right there beside me in moments when the fear was overwhelming. I am thankful that we all walked out uninjured.

I challenged myself on that July weekend in 2018, and despite having a completely different adventure from what I envisioned, I learned a lot about my strengths and even more about my weaknesses. A good adventure will do that to you.

Note: My goal in sharing my adventures is to encourage you to go experience the beautiful and challenging things that life has to offer. However, hiking and climbing, especially in isolated areas, is inherently dangerous. Many people die on mountains like Capitol Peak every year. Research the route and wilderness area thoroughly before hiking anywhere and make sure you have sufficient experience for your desired adventure. Good luck is no substitute for preparation.