08/11/2025
Alone, in the middle of the backcountry, the silence is deafening.
I woke up from a half sleep to my rain fly rustling in the wind. 3:00 am, time to move. I thought, am I really going to climb the southwest ridge of sneffels.. in the dark .. by myself? Rolled out of my tent, the breeze was gentle, almost warm— a good sign. I’m not sure what I expected, I had gone to sleep with a bright moon high in the sky. At some point it had drifted behind the horizon, and it was dark, dark. An inky black where even a headlamp doesn’t bring much comfort— Swallowed my rising anxiety, deep breath. I can do this. Snapped a couple photos of the star filled sky, packed up my bag, and started to walk.
I stopped every 50 feet, slowly turning around to see if any glowing eyes were following me. Thought about what I might use for a weapon. My tripod? A rock? I started to play music, needing a distraction from the fear
I made it to the southwest ridge without incident, and that’s where the real fun began—difficult route finding, sheer drop offs, loose rock gullies, with the added element of darkness. I missed a crucial turn and I couldn’t figure a way out of my predicament. I was cliffed out on either side and losing time to make it up for sunrise. I almost gave up, but decided on a class 4-5 move up the boulders to get back on track. Maybe it wasn’t ideal safety wise, but I felt confident in my skills in that moment— grateful for the darkness to mask just how high up I was
After 2 hours, I could finally see the incoming crest of mount sneffels, I practically ran the rest of the ridge. I sat down on the flat summit, safe and grounded—for the first time that morning I could exhale… I was the only person up there in the quiet calm of dawn. taking in 360 views of jagged peaks, shining blue lakes, and a hot pink sun cresting the horizon from 14,155 feet. A scene I’ve wanted to capture since I moved to Colorado. Inspired, fulfilled, and alive in a way I only ever feel at the top of a mountain ✨