It was a warm, well-lit night at maroon lake sometime in July of 2025. We had the last available overnight parking pass and found the last spot in the overflow lot a short walk from the visitor area. A visitor area ... an overflow lot ... a parking permit ... my romantic mountaineering curtain was being torn in two.
As we walked, the moon was full and bright. We did not need our headlamps. We never turned them on. Eventually, we put them away. We passed between two large cairns and were met by a slightly cool breeze as we entered a natural coliseum like amphitheater. The moon, still lighting our way, revealed the tops of the ridges around us as we crossed a boulder field floor in natures arena. We climbed up the steep slope on the other side to a saddle, and began to ascend the blocky ridge and face of the mountain.
We were searching for 'the leap of faith' section, but we didn't notice it on the way up. The moon shone on the other side of the peak somewhere, and it was dark. We were now used to walking without our headlamps, so we did not retrieve them from our packs.
We kept climbing. Up and up we went. One hold after another, maneuvering left, then right, then left again, without light, without words, we silently gained the peak. We arrived. We thought there was still more to climb. We were wrong. We had finished climbing. We were at the top.
The moon had gone out of view. The sky from the peak was dark with clouds. We did take out our headlamps to find the benchmark, just to be certain. We found it. Then we slept for a while, waiting for dawn. I felt good, very good.
