Baring my Soles in the San Juans

Barefoot 14ers #8, 9, 10

Wed. July 9: Wetterhorn Peak - 7 miles; 7.25 hours.

Thurs. July 10: Redcloud & Sunshine Peaks - 12.25 miles; 14.5 hours.

Objective: My feet have felt very tender after a single day of hiking a 14er barefoot. This trip I wanted to see if the feet could endure two days back to back.

The Quick Versions

2 YouTube Shorts for your convenience:

Wetterhorn video (1:22) https://youtube.com/shorts/LeN7Dupu_BM

Redcloud & Sunshine video (2:53) https://youtube.com/shorts/5Eh48od6ziU

The Report

The weather forecast for the 14ers near Lake City was looking stellar. My wife graciously gave me the thumbs up to spend a few days in the San Juans pursuing what she thinks is... silly. (She uses other descriptive words.)

After a successful barefoot ascent of Torreys and Grays via Kelso Ridge last week, the door to barefoot scrambling has been flung open. Let's do Wetterhorn!

Wednesday morning I checked the forecast one last time before making the 6-hour drive and noticed a "Red Flag Warning" on Thursday's forecast. "Hmm, what does that mean?" A quick Google skim taught me that it meant fires would have a high chance of spreading. "Ah, well, doesn't affect me. I'm not making any campfires. Let's go!"

Note to self: the last 3/4 mile up to the Wetterhorn 4x4 Trailhead is rutted and nasty. Probably better to just hike that part next time.

Kissed my flip flops goodbye and started hiking the Wetterhorn trail at 1:15pm. I'm not usually that guy but the forecast was perfect.

Reached the saddle quickly. Oh boy, the fun is about to start! The scramble up Wetterhorn is so much fun.

Summited at 4:45pm, texted a few friends, and enjoyed the summit all to myself. In fact, I haven't seen a soul since starting the hike... this whole mountain is mine today!

I didn't get video footage of the final pitch of Wetterhorn because my phone was safer in my pack than in my pocket. ;) I grabbed a few shots with my camera, strapped around my neck.

Hiking downhill is harder on the bare feet for a few reasons:

1) You've already worn them down by hiking several miles, obviously. So, you're not fresh when you descend.

2) To take a step down, you've got to lower yourself slowly and place the ball of your foot very gently ahead of you, cat-like, while trying not to plop down with weight on your foot. Stepping up is much softer since you can place your foot without the risk of falling onto it with weight. It only takes one solid rock into your heelbone to cause you to limp the rest of the day.

3) Mistakes happen much more often on the way down, shoes or not. You're tired by now, you've achieved the summit, and it's tempting to "check out." One thing I love about hiking barefoot is that it forces you to maintain focus with every single step. Your eyes will get dryer than usual from forgetting to blink. But it's a great way to take your mind off the complications of life.

Arrived at the car at 8:30pm with just enough daylight to drive down the nasty bit of road. Putting on the trusty Chaco flip flops after a barefoot 14er feels AMAZING.

Drove back to Lake City, tossed on some socks to cover my dirty feet before crawling into my sleeping bag. I honestly have no idea if I'll be able to hike tomorrow - the feet are sore indeed.

Woke up at 5:45am. Stepped outside my car, put my soles on the road and took a few steps.

Oh, man, that hurts. The typical day-after soreness and inflammation was in full swing.

Well, the forecast shows a thunderstorm this morning (Thursday) so I'll drive to the Redcloud & Sunshine trailhead, get prepped, and see how it goes. I gave myself permission to put on the shoes at any time if it got to be too much.

But I also know that, barring danger or injury, I don't quit.

As I drove toward the Silver Creek/Grizzly Gulch Trailhead, I watched vivid lightning strikes on the peaks in the distance, reminding me that I am not in charge. But by the time I had prepared my pack for Day #2, the sky was clearing. Time to rock 'n roll!

The sections of talus (large rocks) are deceptive. They can look steady but shift on you when you least expect it.

Miscalculations simply aren't allowed while baring your soles, so it's slow going. By the end of the day I felt that I had improved my skills on talus while barefoot.

The hike started with a pretty gentle trail. After about a mile, it got sharp and rocky, and it never relented to my dismay. (Wetterhorn had a few stretches of softer ground.)

Perhaps my feet were simply more sensitive and whiny due to having been worn down the day before, but every step felt like more of an accomplishment than ever before.

When I reached the ridge at 13,000', the wind ripped out of nowhere (see video at the top of this report).

At 12:15pm, I was grateful to step onto the summit of Redcloud Peak. I had no idea how I'd come this far with sore feet, and now in Mach 1 winds, but I tried to see the optimistic side to having completed 1/3 of the mileage.

Looking over to my last objective, Sunshine Peak, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. That mountain looks so far away! (The picture doesn't do it justice, I promise you.) I've been up here a couple times before but never appreciated every step like I am today.

I've made it this far. Ain't givin' up now.

At this point I started reciting a mantra that helped me get through this grueling section between the peaks (and back). "Every step is a victory." This truly lifted my spirit enough to keep moving forward, and gave me a little pride. Every step was a step I didn't have to take ever again.

During the traverse between these peaks, I often found myself crouching down and holding onto rocks alongside the trail when the wind blew at full force, just to keep steady. Next time, bring a pole, I thought.

Then something occurred to me.

The Red Flag Warning wasn't just talking about fire... it was telling me the wind was going to be high speeds, enough to spread fire rapidly.

Now I understand.

All right, time to get back up and over Redcloud and down to the car.

I was having a hard time remembering why I was so excited for this trip a few days ago. As I reascended Redcloud, I was SO DONE with jagged rocks and the unabating wind. I could hear that voice telling me to just give in, even over the wind.

I took my obligatory "life is good" photo, then realized that wasn't a true depiction of how I felt.

So I took another photo.

Descending is the worst part, as described earlier. The hike down to the saddle included that perfect angle with loose rocky dirt - you know, the slope where you might go for a little Dirt Surf at any time. This stuff ate up my feet, even being as cat-like as I could be. Upon inspection the following day, the sides of my feet and tops of the pads of my feet were actually a little shredded (I'll spare you the photos). But it didn't hurt and healed just fine with some foot care.

At this point, all I have to do is make it safely back to the car without chickening out and covering my feet, and being alert enough to walk gently.

At 10:28pm I arrived at the car, climbed into my sleeping bag and said goodnight to an orange moon. I felt a strange sense of pride that I hadn't let myself down, and I was at ease and asleep in no time, dreaming of... the next barefoot 14er adventure.