6 minute read
AN ALTITUDE ROOM SUCCESS STORY
by Rick Craycraft
My first encounter with the Altitude Room at Evolution Healthcare and Fitness was several years ago when I was training for the annual American Heart Association’s stair run in Big Pink. I’ve never been very enamored with running or been a gym guy, choosing instead to get my jollies and conditioning on the plethora of trails and slopes in our beautiful Pacific Northwest. The stair run, however, was a competition, and I knew I needed traditional training. So I hired one of Evolution’s fine personal trainers, designed a workout plan, and stuck to it for a number of months. The training included a lot of time working out in that special room at Evolution where the oxygen level is manipulated to mimic high elevations—depending on the day, anywhere from 9,000 to 17,000 feet. By the time the stair run had come and gone, it was climbing season.
What brought me back to the Altitude Room was the notion of altitude training as an end in itself. And my own wondering if I could still climb a Colorado 14er at the age of 75. My altitude ambitions had been dropping for years, and I told people that “I don’t get much over 10,000 feet anymore.” Oh yeah? I hadn’t climbed a 14er since 2018, when I was a spry 69. Post-Covid I had to go back and see what I could still do. I started a training regimen of my own design in early December of 2023 and came to the gym diligently for nine months, with an eye on climbing in September. The only time I wasn’t there was when I was pursuing my own regular climbing goals during the season, which were all over the map in terms of difficulty and elevation.
My trip to the Southwest started in Albuquerque. From there, the most convenient 14ers are in the San Juan Mountains in the southwest corner of Colorado. I had visited but never climbed there. Like a lot of people, I had started in the Front Range (convenient to Denver) and swept westward over the years. During the trip in 2018, I completed the Sawatch Range in central Colorado, 22 peaks in all. Including my previous climbs, that brought me to a total of 28 14ers, just over half of the “official” list of 54 Colorado 14ers. An okay place to stop, I figured, given the distance from Oregon and the substantial competition Northwest mountains present.
With all due respect to Mt. Rainier, having a number of 14ers to play around with, all in the same area, was just too big a temptation. I zeroed in on the San Juan Mountains and picked out a few peaks rated easy, plus one intermediate climb to meet my challenge. I’ll admit right here that the overwhelming majority of Colorado 14ers are walk-ups, requiring only tolerance for altitude itself and rigorous conditioning.
Two days into the trip I was at the 10,400-foot trailhead for Redcloud and Sunshine Peaks. While I was at it, why not get two on the same climb? It was hard. I had to remember that the Altitude Room replicates altitude. Being at altitude is a whole different game. Fortunately, I remembered from previous trips to employ my “14er” pace, which at times can feel like you’re hardly moving. One step at a time, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. Put yourself on cruise control and look at the scenery. This first climb was 12 miles round-trip, with around 3,800 feet of elevation gain. In Colorado, these trails are so popular they are wellworn and easy to follow, aided up high by plentiful and sometimes large cairns. In through the nose and out through the mouth.
When I got to the summit of Redcloud, I looked out at Sunshine Peak, a mile distant on a dropping then rising ridge. No resistance. Went out and tagged Sunshine and turned around. The descent was not that easy or pleasant. Because of the aforementioned traffic, the trail back through the talus fields was scrubbed down to hardpan. Slow going with plenty of pumping the brakes. Back at the trailhead, I was spent. I’d done it, but was not up to speed with the altitude just yet.
For the next two weeks, I ran around the national parks of Utah, keeping my exercise to trails on sandstone, being at moderate altitude on the Colorado Plateau throughout.
On the way back through Colorado, I upped the challenge somewhat by tackling Mt. Sneffels, north and west of where I had been in the San Juans. It is rated intermediate. I buddied up at the trailhead with a guy from Indiana, who had never climbed anything. I was doing fine when we got to the sign that said “Summit 1 mile, 1,762 feet.” I never gave that a second thought. By the time we were 350 feet from the summit, I was worthless. A combination of exertion, altitude, and a touch of calorie debt. I knew I was beat and turned around.
Two days later, it all came together. Across the road from the trailhead for Redcloud and Sunshine was the trail to Handies Peak, 8 miles and 3,700 feet of gain. The first step I took on that trail was the same pace I was going when I took the last step onto the summit. It was a beautiful day in the Colorado Rockies: tinges of Fall color around the edges that had not been there two weeks prior; an easy-tofollow trail with long, lazy switchbacks up high; not nearly the climber traffic as on Redcloud, just relaxed, serene climbing; met people on top from two routes coming up the other side. When I got back down to my bivy spot, I packed up and drove away.
That was it for the 14ers. I returned to Albuquerque, picked up my climbing partner at the airport, and we went to climb South Truchas Peak, at 13,101 feet the second-highest peak in New Mexico and the southernmost 13,000-foot peak in the contiguous United States. Over three days we covered 24 miles, climbed 5,100 feet, and bivied two nights at 11,800 feet. Just lovely.
Two weeks later I was back in the Altitude Room.
