This summer I continued my quest to climb the 14’ers (14,000-feet-+ mountains) in Colorado, and I was able to check off two more: Mt. Bross and Mt. Harvard, bringing my life list total to 21. While Mt. Bross was not all that memorable, as it is an active mine site, completely above treeline and mostly a heap of dusty scree, Mt. Harvard was as beautiful, challenging and inspiring as any I have climbed.
The south slope route that I took climbs steadily through beautifully Ponderosa pine forested Horn Fork Basin along a creek by that name, past the trail to Mt. Columbia (a slightly shorter hike that I did in 2021) until it reaches treeline at about 12,000 feet, then climbs over ever steeper rocks and boulders towards the 14,424-feet summit. Just above treeline is a short side trail to Bear Lake, but I was intent on making it to the top as early as I could to avoid afternoon thunderstorms common in August.
The path through the boulders is well marked and relatively easy to follow (unlike my Mt. Princeton experience), until well above 14,000 feet. With about 30 feet to go, it is unclear to a modestly experienced rock climber like myself exactly how to summit. After several attempts to find a way up, I was seriously considering abandoning when I spotted a young man at the top and I yelled to him, “How did you get up there?” He kindly coached me around the boulders to where he had found a few hand- and footholds. I was dubious. The identified rock was nearly vertical and flat faced, and I was looking at shoving my hands and feet into a diagonal crevice and pulling myself up mainly by my arms for about 15 feet then heaving myself over a ledge. I judged that if I failed I would surely fall a hundred feet onto boulders and likely not survive. But my young friend encouraged me and when I was nearly there, he kindly scrambled down because there is room for only one at the very peak. At last I was alone at the top.
My typical routine upon reaching a summit is to take time to appreciate the exhilaration of the moment, document the achievement with lots of selfies and pictures of the 360 degree views, share hiking stories with the folks at the top, and eat my lunch. On this day, it was cloudy, cool and windy and I was alone. This was no time to celebrate and there was no one to share my excitement with. Still shaking from the last efforts to reach the top, I hastily snapped a few poorly framed pictures, and cautiously made my way back down to the well marked trail below. As I got down below the ridgeline and closer to treeline I decided to take the side trail to Bear Lake to enjoy my lunch.
The lake is spectacular. Ringed by the Collegiate Peaks, all of which are above 14,000 feet, and a craggy cirque, its blue waters were deep and I could see native Colorado cutthroat trout rising and feasting on insects. The sun had come out. The surrounding boulders were alive with scurrying, chirping pikas, those adorable, furry denizens of the high mountains. I sat on one of the larger rocks near the shoreline and feasted on the tasty, high calorie snacks I had prepared for myself that morning. I was overcome with a feeling of awe and wonder at the beauty and powerful enormity of the Colorado landscape and felt in community with the animals around me.
Hiking alone provides me with precious time to reflect on the challenges and opportunities that we face at Portland State. I contemplated the daunting task we have before us: To achieve financial sustainability with a much smaller tuition and state funding base than what we had built our university on for over the past 20 years. We must do this in the face of constrained federal research funding, and looming threats from the federal administration’s attack on higher education, all while achieving and expanding on our noble mission, following our strategic plan, keeping our Future in Focus.
I love a challenge, and this one will require us to dig deep into our reserves of experience, determination, and creativity to make the climb and find the best setting for our university to embrace at this moment in time. We will need to change habits, ask for help, take advice from younger generations. We will need to get out of our comfort zone and take risks, for sure, but I know that we will find the place of inspiration and source of awe among the longstanding values of community, opportunity, diversity, and pursuit of actionable truths that have made our university great.