Rosa and Andrea both aspired to climb Longs Peak, but they weren�t about to try it without the guidance of experience to bolster their chances. This was a wise choice they both made independently. Andrea knew me through Jim, and Rosa knew Jim through me. At the beginning of the climbing season, they both announced their desire and we had a meeting. Having climbed Longs before via the Cable Route, I wasn�t too thrilled about doing again up the crowded Keyhole Route. I was however very interested in the Loft Route. The group agreed to do the Loft Route and I was a part of the expedition.

We worked hard and prepared for the climb for most of the 2000 climbing season. We arranged for our IU Hiking Leader in Rocky Mountain National Park to join us and lead the climb. His name is Dave Beldus. At the time he was 66 years old and had climbed Longs 53 times. He could easily dust any of us on the trail, and not knowing the Loft Route, I for one was thrilled to have Dave along. His personal knowledge of the mountain would aid us in any route decisions, and if retreat from weather was necessary, Dave would know when and where to do it. But we all knew that once beyond the Loft, we were committed to staying on the mountain until we were through the Keyhole. A descent anywhere off of the west faces would put us miles from our vehicles.

Our route would take us completely around the mountain during the course of the day. We would climb to the Loft, drop down from the Loft on the southwest face of the mountain, climb the Pallisades to the Homestretch and the summit, drop back down the Homestretch and descend via the Keyhole for a great grand tour. We would start on the trail at 2AM. It was a good plan, everyone was in great physical shape, and our chances were very good for success.

Fast forward to Saturday, July 15, 2000. Our summit stay was brief. A great cloud was building overhead. It was 11:00AM and we were on our way down the Homestretch. Dave was expecting a cement truck to deliver cement to his house at 4:00PM and asked if we�d mind if he took off to go meet the truck and help pour his new patio. I said that was fine and he was off and running. We didn�t see him for the rest of the day.

We knew we had to move quickly, and normally we would have. But the Keyhole Route was crowded and we were waiting in line to access the Narrows. I thought this was ridiculous. Most of the people on the mountain were beginners, or even worse, casual climbers having Longs to claim as an experience akin to an amusement ride at Disneyland. I urged Jim and Andrea to press on and get around these oblivious slowpokes that were clueless as to what was about to happen.

Jim and Andrea did move along when they could. I knew Andrea would be safe in Jim�s care, so I took it upon myself to move on with Rosa, who was content to continue down the mountain as quickly as possible. We both squeaked by the tourist climbers creeping along the route and reached the Narrows with the grace of good timing. No one was on that stretch, likely due to fear and apprehension. �Let�s go,� was all I said. Rosa and I ran across the Narrows. Arriving at the top of the Trough, a cluster of people stood contemplating on how to get down around the Chockstone and into the top of the Trough.

I said �excuse us,� and Rosa and I butted our way through, She went down one side of the Chockstone, I went down the other, and our speedy descent of the Trough began. We were really moving when the first blast of thunder boomed from directly above. I instructed Rosa to keep moving, which she did without hesitation. Half way down the Trough, hail stones started to appear, bouncing about. Looking west, a wall of rain was on the far side of Glacier Gorge. We were running out of time. I asked Rosa what she would prefer to do: Hunker down and ride the storm out, or keep moving? She asked me what I thought we should do. Both options were good ones. Most of the people would be sitting it out in one spot. I saw this as an opportunity to move along the route unfettered by additional tourist obstacles. Plus, the storm was moving east, we were moving north. In the unlikely event we were lucky, we might escape most of the action.

We decided to keep moving. There were no bail options anyway, so if we were going to get clobbered, then that�s how it was going to be. It would simply be just another aspect of the experience that is Longs Peak. With that, we were off again, working our way down the Trough at a fast clip, bypassing many terrified tourists along the way.

The rain wall was now in Glacier Gorge and a crack of lightning seared the sky. Thunder blasted out. More lightning. More thunder. A quick glance at the rain wall-we had less than a minute to don our gear. We put it on, probably in record time. At the bottom of the Trough, as we started out across the ledges and slabs, the rain wall rushed the mountain. The next thing we knew, the mountain was under a tumultuous siege of a downpour.

The noise of thunder, the cracking of lightning, the rush of pouring water, all were constant and relentless. I told Rosa that if I failed to get her off the mountain, her boyfriend would kill me, but she never heard my humorous take on the moment because of the noise. I would have to repeat it to her later to get the hoped-for laugh. Laughter was the farthest thing from Rosa�s mind.

I made no further attempts at levity as we pressed on. Hail and rain poured from the sky in raging waves. Gushing falls of hail laced, ice cold water pummeled us from the cliffs above. Our hands were soaked and numb from the cold, beet-red with blood pumped by desperate hearts working hard to keep our bodies moving. Rosa managed to utter �I�m so tired!� I shouted �We have no time to be tired.� I pressed onward and Rosa stayed close behind.

We had worked hard to prepare for this climb. Rosa was shining now. She had learned well. I could only hope Jim and Andrea were faring as well, now well behind us, higher on the mountain, right in the thick of the storm.

We approached the bars. Two steel bars drilled into the side of the mountain at the base of a wide crack in the slabby rock of Longs. The bars have been worn smooth over the decades by countless thousands of climbers. Below them is nothing but air. Still, for an experienced climber, this move is nothing. In a torrential downpour, with rampaging rivers of hail laced water running down the the mountain, this move becomes a very slippery affair, and a slip could be fatal.

Getting to the bars was indeed slippery. I counted on my boots to deliver me swiftly from them over to a tiny ledge drenched in water and floating groups of tiny hail icebergs. I reached around to offer my hand in assistance to Rosa, but she said, �Go on. I�ve got it.� I trusted that she had her self confidence well placed and did as she requested. Moving on for fifteen feet, I turned to see she was right behind me.

We blazed on, looking up at the summit plateau, from which long veils of water poured from every crack and opening, splashing on the ledges and slabs of the Keyhole Route. Water was standing where ever it could collect, hail stones bobbed in countless pools that we splashed in our haste to escape the storm�s wrath.

More lightning and thunder prompted us on to the final scramble through the Keyhole, where once through it we sought shelter beneath an overhang. The temperature had dropped dramatically in a matter of minutes, freezing Rosa�s camel back valve and making her water inaccessible. She drank some of mine while we attempted to thaw it out. It turns out that most folks with camel backs experienced this problem. We grew chilled since we were no longer moving, and I estimated the temperature had dropped to near freezing, for our exhalations could be seen abundantly in the heavy, ozone laced air.

I got Rosa over to the shelter, leaving our packs under the overhang. We crammed ourselves in with the rest of the tourists and climbers and got warmed up. The rain had subsided to a drizzle, but thunder could still be heard. Crossing the great expanse of the boulder field could be interesting in this weather, I thought. We continued to wait for Jim and Andrea. Forty minutes later, they arrived. Andrea was slightly hypothermic with soaked boots and a pair of socks serving as gloves. Once we got her situated and warmed, we proceeded down the mountain. By then, the storm had moved on, we had done battle and survived it rather well.

We started this climb at 2AM. We were on a part of the mountain where a safe descent was not feasible or practical. Our only alternative was to do battle. I commend Jim, Andrea and Rosa for a job well done in dealing with this incredible event on one of Colorado�s most formidable and difficult fourteeners. At 9:00 that evening, Dave Beldus called Jim to see how we fared, knowing we would do well, and glad to hear we in fact did do well. He had just finished pouring his new patio.

My climbing partner Jim Lierman wrote an excellent, detailed account of this event. If you're a beginner, I highly recommend you read this report.

Hopefully YOU will never have to experience such a storm on such a mountain. But if you do this long enough, the odds are that you will. Experience and learning from good leaders will prepare you for that day everyone hopes will never come. With a bit of luck, you�ll survive and perhaps be a better climber for it. Hopefully, the best case scenario is that you�ll always avoid Colorado�s storms. Since that is not likely as the years go by, you�re bound to do battle. Hopefully when it happens, you won�t have to go through a worst case scenario. I bring it up because it does happen to the unfortunate ones, and that means anyone, and that means me, and it means YOU. Be careful, have fun and climb safe.

If you missed my Top 10 Storms of All Time Series (In My 40-plus years of climbing), go HERE.

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