The week before the climb had been very wintry in the high country, and based on forecasts and scouting reports, we'd have more than a foot of fresh snowfall to contend with, although the forecast for the day itself was clear and calm, albeit cold. I bundled my gear and labs in my jeep, dialed into my conference number, and headed out of Denver at 3:30am, shooting for the trailhead around 6:00ish.

My conference call ended right on time, at 5:30, so I was free to give my undivided attention to the climb as I passed through Leadville. Mentally going through my gear checklist one last time, I came to the horrible realization that I had forgotten one...and only one..piece of equipment. SNOWSHOES! damn damn damn! And no one to blame but myself for pulling a sheer bonehead maneuver like that. Apparently I was more preoccupied with work than I thought, and now I was missing a crucial piece of gear. What to do? Way to late to turn around, drive back to Denver and get 'em, and Leadville is severely lacking in all-night snowshoe rentals (go figure!). I decided to just continue to the trailhead and do my best to linger towards the back of the pack, and hope that everyone else's snowshoes (and skis) would pack the trail enough for me to hike on.  And of course, I braced myself for the inevitable ribbing and grief of my fellow mountaineers.

Pulling into the trailhead parking lot at 6:15, I squeezed into just about the last possible space to park. The lot was packed with vehicles, and bustling with climbers in various states of preparedness. I introduced myself and signed into the group register, and then (to coin a phrase), I released the hounds. My two labs, Ben and Dex, burst out of the back of my jeep in as a pair of black-and-yellow tornadoes, frantically running in all directions trying to meet and greet everyone. And they were well received, which just increased the wag-factor!

The group pulled out from the trailhead at about 6:30, with a slow but steady pace up the trailhead. I'd admitted to my snowshoe blunder and positioned myself near the back of the pack. As hoped, the 30 or so people tromping ahead of me was doing the trick of packing down the trail. The first hour was a steady march along the trail, culminating in a rest break just before the 4x4 trailhead. Here I found myself starting to punch through the snowpack from time to time. But as we continued up the trail and through dense stands of aspens, I kept with it, mostly staying on top of the snowpack but with the occasional punch-through becoming more frequent and deeper...up to the waist from time to time.

As the morning wore on, the crew moved steadily up the mountain, spreading out considerably as everyone found their pace. A string of radios brought by several of us kept the group in touch with each other. I was still near the back of the pack, moving much more slowly than I wanted to be. The postholing problem was getting worse. By 11:00 I'd passed the 3-mile mark (roughly halfway), just below treeline. By now every 3rd or 4th step would sink me up to my chest or deeper. I told myself that I just needed to get to treeline, and the windswept ridge would be much easier to navigate.