1.The drive there to the trailhead

We all know this feeling, some of us have even forgotten it. The grind of the morning and getting out of our comfortable, safe, warm beds. Then, the shower that feels like you just walked a mile in a misty unclear dream state. Finally, we get in the car; our almost silent morning of preparation. We feel a level of adrenaline, but not like you usually feel it. A look to your mountain that you WILL summit. You feel content, happy, head held high. "Bring it on," your mind says.

Driving down I-25, windows rolled down, country and classic rock music blasting. Passing Idaho springs, passing Glenwood Hot Springs, smelling that fine salty warm water. A classic 1994 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo. My friends. Our gear. Good times. I like those times. They turn strangers into life-long friends/best friends. Plus you can drive your automobile at speeds we all know the army of Denver cops would give you the prettiest ticket you've ever seen.

2. The First Hill

We all know this. Your body is ready. Full of Coloradan mountaineering energy. You go up that hill with more confidence that you have than when you take your finals. Every step has a push and even some style to it. Your feet may have a toe that's bugging you, but you'll live. You kinda do a little race to see who can get up to that first hill first. It's almost a sentimental feeling. No water. No sweat. No problem.

3. Passerbys

You're through a few more tough hills. Cracking jokes about the recent week at school. Sports, future adventures. Taking in the sights and sounds of Coloradan nature--one of a kind. Then they approach.Rubber wheels, leather soles, little pebbles following their destructive wake. They are not full of energy, not like your fresh spirit on the mountain. Their odyssey of this mountain is almost over.

You might say hi, or dodge them, and worst of all walk into them and you'll start something that might be beautiful or honestly stressful. They're bikers, runners, actors, actresses, architects, journalists, engineers, and so on. Your paths may cross only once. One word. Hi. A smile. A quick chat. I've met some of the most amazing people on the trail: A army ranger vet, a 117 year old Buddhist guru that I shared tea with. Meeting a stranger is one of life's simplest's addictive pleasures.

4. Getting above tree line

There it is. The sun shining bright with no covers with trees. Just you and the mountain. Halfway there. Your energy level dips drastically. You see the mountains summit, a sigh of relief. Or regret. You democratically vote to have lunch. You lay down like your parents, with a leg and back problem. Chips, sandwiches, ham, cheese, pretzels: a small portion of what you usually consume. Somehow it tastes one million times better.

5. The Last Hill/6. Summiting

You are finally spent. Energy is almost non-existent. Just mindlessly pushing one foot in front of the other. Thinking about where you started. The weather. The people. Your crew. Then sky.

7. Time on the top

No reaction. You're somewhat in a trance of the Great Plains and sky on top of the summit. You laugh a little bit. See your friends stumble up. Chilly. The windy conditions are getting to you. You all waddle over to that rock cover shield. Huddled journaling, eating, drinking, pictures. You feel on top of the world and your life is in pause for a moment. But like all good things, this must come to an end. So you leave this mountain. You leave a part of yourself at the summit, on the paths, the ground, the air.

"Next weekend," you say in the car with accepting nods with all of your summiteers.

Summiting over a fourteen thousand foot peak in the thin Coloradan air. It means more than conquering a mountain. It's an ordeal than changes you and your life style. It's a change that runs deep and permanent. It's a right of passage for us few natives. To push yourself up that mountain is a life lesson of never stop pushing the limits. Be crazy. Love bigger. It's in our DNA.