The Maroon Bells Conquer

Deep inside the Elk Mountains of Colorado lies a place of beauty, controlled by death. People go on day-long treks, particularly to the Maroon Bells Mountains; however, several do not make it back. My journey through the Maroon Bells highlights the relationship between beauty and death. Examining the importance of perspective and how it influences oneself can completely change the direction of one’s life, just as it changed mine.

On August 30, 2022, around 5:00 am, I set out on a twenty-one-mile hike. As I approached the pitch-black trailhead, my headlight glistened off a massive red sign that read: “Welcome to bear country. Be advised: This is a deadly mountain area.” I had done my research and was prepared for anything the mountains had in store for me. I reached into my backpack and grabbed a 16-inch-long machete along with a canister of bear spray and continued the voyage. Furthermore, I followed a cold, dark trail surrounded by angelic Aspen trees. With only a small headlight, the visibility was less than twenty feet. I continued walking, looking straight down so I could see the trail, but every few minutes, I felt an increasing sense that something was watching me. I kept glancing up to see if any animals were close, but the trail was dissipating, and I had an insufficient amount of light. Furthermore, I began to feel defenseless, alone in the middle of a barren mountain range with only a machete and bear spray at hand. After what felt like several hours, I looked at the time. It was 6 am. There was no visible trail, so I decided to take a break in hope that the sun would provide light soon. I sat on a rock next to a creek and was searching my backpack for food. I pulled out a granola bar, but I quickly learned that this idea was not the smartest. Moreover, I saw a small and fast shadowy figure running in the distance. I shined my light in the direction -- it was a fox. A few moments later, I noticed something rustling around in the trees behind me. I quickly grabbed the bear spray and machete, but it was only a group of deer. My heart was pounding, and I was filled with adrenaline. The mountains, though, had just warned me that I was in their territory. Understanding the severity of the situation, I began thinking about where the bear would most likely be. Suddenly, I realized how vulnerable I was at the moment, sitting at a creek with food out. I packed my belongings and continued the voyage onwards.

By 7:30 am, I had reached a valley that was surrounded by three 14,000-foot mountains and several 13,000-foot mountains. I felt engulfed by the intimidating yet gorgeous scenery around me. The sun was late rising because the surrounding mountains towered over the valley from every different angle. The sun lit up the two peaks in front of me, Maroon Peak and North Maroon Peak (The Maroon Bells). These ghastly peaks consisted of pure rock and were steeper than anything I had climbed before. As the sun continued to rise, the light fell upon the valley, highlighting the green, lush grass. The amazing aspen and pine trees had awoken once again. The gorgeous flowers consisted of the rosy paintbrush, king’s crown, and heartleaf arnica. While I was soaking in the moment, two cubs began approaching me. I fell into a trance. It was not the cubs I was afraid of; however, I knew there was going to be a sow bear soon. A sow bear is a mother bear -- mother bears tend to mind their own business, but there are a few exceptions. One of the exceptions is when their cubs are around, and they feel like they need to fight to protect one another. I had the 16-inch machete in one hand and the bear spray in my other hand. After I pulled myself out of the trance, I began slowly moving backward. The cubs were around fifteen yards from me, and my adrenaline was pulsing through my whole body. As I was moving backward, a massive bear appeared and started running in my direction. Having never experienced anything similar, I did not know what to do. I sprayed my bear spray for the first time in my life, but I sprayed too early, and it did not reach. As the bear continued moving in my direction, I sprayed again, and this time hit it in the face. The bear sharply turned around and ran away. Watching the bear disappear into the forest was a relieving sight to see, but I was immensely scared. In addition, I used the majority of my bear spray canister. At the time, I was upset because the canister was $50, but in retrospect, the canister was worth every penny. As I stared into the beautiful valley filled with amazing trees and flowers, all I could think about was how many lurking animals there were, ready to kill. Beauty and death began to be more intertwined than ever. I debated turning around, but the adrenaline from the situation allowed me to continue the trek onwards.

At 11:00 am, I was ten miles in, fully engulfed in the mountains. Throughout the day, I had not come in contact with anybody else, so if I fell or slipped while climbing, I would not have been found for days, if not weeks. There was only one mile until the summit; however, this was the most deadly mile of them all. Several people had previously died on this one-mile stretch of land because it consisted of intense class 5 hiking (Class 5 is the hardest rank, including difficult and sustained climbing). Knowing this information, I began the climb upwards. As I scrambled through loose terrain and steep climbing, I was only scared for my life on two different occasions. After two exhausting hours, I summited the peak. It felt like I had just beaten someone in a game. Through hardships, difficulties, and planning, I had finally beaten the Maroon Bells. I pulled out a sandwich I had been saving for the peak. As I devoured my sandwich, staring into the beautiful valley, I felt at peace.

After taking my last glance at the stunning views, I began my journey down the mountain. The one-mile stretch was not as bad going down because I had already mapped out the route I was going to take; however, I did roll my ankle several times and hyperextend my knee on different occasions. After the hardest stretch, the trek downwards felt like a breeze. It was the perfect temperature to be hiking, and it was close to 1:00 pm, so I did not have to worry about the bears as much. Several hours later, I reached the spot where the bear attacked me. Although I had a fair reason to be scared at the time, it was so dark that I had not realized how beautiful of an area I was in. There was a small lake with clear water, the Aspen trees were bright yellow, and the flowers were bright pink and purple. This realization allowed me to think about the value of perspective. Beauty can be right next to you, and you may not recognize it until you perceive it from another perspective. At the time of the bear attack, I was overwhelmed by the surrounding issues; however, looking at the same spot with an alternative perspective gave me a completely different feeling. There will always be fear, shame, and hate in the world, but there will also be love, kindness, and beauty. There are many pessimistic people in the world, but with a simple alteration in perspective, one can find peace, love, and acceptance because it all lies within oneself. Hiking the Maroon Bells provided me with insight about myself, along with an insight into how beauty and death are often closely related.

@misc{wisniewski2022the,
  author = {Wisniewski, Kyle},
  title = {The Maroon Bells Conquer},
  year = {2022},
  month = {sep},
  howpublished = {\url{https://www.kylewisniewski.com/library/the-maroon-bells-conquer}},
  note = {Essay}
}