The author on tn the summit of South Lookout Peak.
top of ninety-four peaks higher than 13,000 feet. I learned valuable lessons along the way, pushed myself to achieve things I never thought possible and gained a newfound appreciation for the incredible adventure in my own backyard. All of those things are true except one: I didn’t actually succeed. Only in writing this article did I discover my failure — I climbed 94 of 98 peaks — unknowingly missing four by about a quarter mile each due to my lack of thoroughness in counting dots on a map. If the goal was to feel success, I achieved it — each summit I stood on slowly boosted my confidence.
AN IDEA Over a year ago, the COVID-19 pandemic descended upon the Southwest and the rest of the world. Like so many others, I found myself out of a job, unable to visit friends and overwhelmed by uncertainty. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I had left my comfort zone and community in Durango six months earlier to take a chance on love. That meant moving to the mining-turned-ski hamlet of Silverton — approximately 48 miles north, 2,796 feet higher and roughly one twenty-eighth the size of Durango — to start a new life with my partner in the heart of the San Juan Mountains.
At the time, it was a dream come true. However, along with the onset of the COVID pandemic and the “Stay at Home” order, my dream had been unraveling for months; and without work as a distraction, I was forced to face the reality of a failing relationship. Everything seemed to be spinning out of control; so I did what I always do when nothing makes sense: I turned to the mountains. They delivered. After two months in lockdown, my existential anxiety and restlessness reached a fever pitch. By mid-May, I came up with a solution — to climb, hike or ski all of the thirteeners (peaks above
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