Six hours after leaving the trail head, I finally made it to the 14,267 foot summit.  The climb itself was 4 hours, 3 of which were on steep melting snow.  The first part of the climb went well and was similar to the day before.  Progress was soon slow due to the changing conditions.  Full sun and a warm day made the upper part of the route like climbing a giant melting snowcone.  In June, start this climb no later than sunrise.

Having made the last vertical maneuver, I walked about 20 yards on snow sloping to the summit.  There were two guys having a snack having come up the Grays Peak trail.  I ranted for a few minutes about what an idiot I must be for climbing that route solo, and asked them to take this picture.  They took the shot and soon started their descent.  Then, two guys in their 50's or possibly 60's came up to the summit from the Kelso Ridge route.  This is not a small hike and I remain very impressed.  They were really friendly and we ended up meeting in the trailhead parking lot later for a coke.  I was struck during my trip how friendly all of the hikers and climbers I met were.  It must be something about being outdoors in the fresh air.  After the 2 previous climbers, 4 climbers from Minnesota came from the North Ridge or North Slopes route.  There we were, five Minnesotans on a summit in Colorado talking to our wives & friends on cell phones.  It was great.  I took some photos for them, had a snack, and got ready to descend.

Now there was one more challenge, my plane was leaving in 5 hours and I had to descend a mountain, hike 2-3 miles, pack an expedition's amount of gear, drive down the horrible dirt road to the highway, and drive to Denver International.  Descending the easier Grays Peak trail, I literally ran down the mountain in 2 hours.  I slid down (glissaded) snow fields, crossed tundra (sorry environmentalists) and hiked as fast as my little trekking poles would take me.  I was shocked at my speed and how much energy I still had.  Especially since I was still at a reasonably high altitude.  I made it down to the car, packed up, and headed for Denver.  Fortunately, there was a huge hail storm in Minneapolis and my plane took off 3 hours late.  I would have missed it otherwise.  I finally arrived home at 2 AM, my mind whirring from the constant activity of the last 5 days.

Conclusion:     It's funny how time changes your perception of events.  During the climb it felt like the hardest physical and mental undertaking of my life.  Dangerous and completely unnecessary, at which point I questioned if I really wanted to do anything like mountaineering again.  After the climb, having achieved a goal that I had been obsessing about for months, I was elated, ecstatic, calm and relieved.  It wasn't so bad. Describe this set of emotions to any mother, and the word that comes to mind is childbirth.  It hurts while you are there, but it's not what you remember later.

I think I would take it easier on the next trip.  Find a nice balance with a more relaxed route, a larger margin of safety in a beautiful natural alpine setting.  Like.... Mount Rainier....... (May 2002 edit) ok, Mount Whitney