When Kristin and I decided to road trip from California to Colorado to climb all the Sawatch 14ers, we had no idea the challenges that awaited us. Starting north to south, Mount of the Holy Cross was our first peak—a trial by fire for Kristin’s first 14er and a humbling reminder of the demands of high-altitude climbs for me.
Waking to a Storm
The dirt road to the Mount of the Holy Cross trailhead set the tone: rugged, remote, and long. The drive itself was an adventure, filled with bumps, twists, and the constant sound of gravel under the tires. We arrived and settled in for the night, only to wake up to howling winds and snow. The storm forced us to delay our summit attempt, giving us an extra day to acclimatize. Living at 6,000 feet gave us an edge, but a quick hike above the trailhead helped us prepare our bodies for the thin air of 14,000 feet.
That day of waiting felt longer than expected. We spent the time checking our gear, watching the storm, and trying to distract ourselves with books and conversation. But the anticipation of what lay ahead kept creeping back into our minds. That night, with bags packed and alarms set, we tried to catch a few hours of sleep, knowing an early start was crucial.
Kristin crossing the creek just before starting the main uphill climb to the summit of Mount of the Holy Cross in Colorado. Photo by Dalton Johnson
The Trek Begins
At 4:30 a.m., the alarm buzzed. The chill in the van was biting, but there was no room for hesitation. After a quick breakfast and coffee, we drove to the trailhead, clicked my Coros watch to track mode, and set out at first light.
The trail climbs steadily to a saddle before plunging 1,000 feet downhill—a cruel introduction to the grueling uphill we would face on the way back. The silence of the early morning was broken only by the crunch of our boots on the trail and the occasional gust of wind. At dawn, we reached the creek near the campsites and took a break to refill water and snack. The rising sun revealed the famous cross-shaped snowfield that gives the mountain its name, a breathtaking sight that reminded us why we were here.
Can you see Kristin? She is making her way up the ridge to the final saddle on Mount of the Holy Cross. Photo by Dalton Johnson
The Ascent
From the creek, the climb steepens and the air thins. Kristin, carrying a full pack, pushed through each step with determination. For her, this was not just a hike; it was a battle against self-doubt and exhaustion. By the time we reached 12,500 feet, the altitude had taken its toll.
"You can go on ahead," she said during a break, her voice heavy with fatigue.
"We’ve got time," I reassured her. "Let’s keep pushing together."
The trail became a mix of snow patches and rocky switchbacks. Kristin’s progress slowed to a pattern of a few steps, a pause, and deep breaths. I could see the strain, but also her resolve.
At the final saddle, the summit loomed above us, sandy and rocky, with clouds creeping in the distance. We paused briefly to assess the weather, and I used my experience to judge that we still had enough time to reach the top safely. With 30 minutes to go, Kristin summoned everything she had left.
Kristin making her final 100 yard hike over the talus field to the summit of Mount of the Holy Cross. Photo by Dalton Johnson
Reaching the Summit
After a grueling final push, Kristin’s head crested the ridge. She had done it—her first 14er.
“Wahoo!” I shouted as she looked at me with a mix of exhaustion and pride. The summit felt like a different world, with panoramic views of the surrounding peaks and valleys that stretched endlessly. We celebrated with summit selfies, snacks, and water, soaking in the moment. Kristin’s smile, despite her exhaustion, said it all.
We stayed longer than we probably should have, savoring the achievement. The thin air made every movement feel heavier, but the sense of accomplishment made it all worthwhile. The summit was a place of both beauty and reflection, where all the struggles of the climb seemed to fade away, leaving only gratitude.
The Final Test
Descending the summit was quick, but the hardest challenge still lay ahead: the 1,000-foot uphill climb back to the trailhead.
Kristin was spent. Snacks, water, and music couldn’t lift her spirits. Her head was down, and her steps were mechanical. That final uphill felt never-ending, a cruel reminder that the mountain isn’t done with you until you’ve returned safely.
The heat of the afternoon sun bore down on us, adding to the challenge. My own thighs burned, and my stomach growled, but we pushed on. Breaks were frequent but necessary. The trail’s steep incline and loose rocks demanded our full attention. That uphill slog tested every ounce of our physical and mental strength.
Dalton, the author, taking a “quick” boots off nap next to the trail on the way down from the summit of Mount of the Holy Cross. Photo by Dalton Johnson
Back to the Van
When the van finally came into view, Kristin hugged it as if it were a long-lost friend. I laughed and gave her a bear hug, overwhelmed with pride for her perseverance. The relief of being back at the van was indescribable, a mix of physical comfort and emotional triumph.
Mount of the Holy Cross isn’t just another 14er. Its challenges, from the double climb to its relentless elevation gain, are humbling. For Kristin, it was a monumental achievement and the start of a journey into the world of 14ers. For me, it was a reminder of why I love the mountains: the trials, the beauty, and the shared moments that turn challenges into cherished memories.
If you’re planning to climb Mount of the Holy Cross, come prepared. Bring more water and snacks than you think you’ll need. Start early to avoid afternoon storms. Most importantly, pace yourself and embrace the journey. The final uphill will test your limits, but the reward at the summit—and the lessons along the way—are worth every step.
