FourteenerWorld Interview with Ken Nolan              October 2003

Terri Horvath & Steve Hoffmeyer composed the following questions for Ken:

Having already completed your first “list” (The Adirondacks 46) in 1974, had you already decided to complete the list of Colorado 14ers when you moved out here? If not, at what point did you decide that you wanted to complete all the fourteeners?

Ken: During a business trip to Boulder before actually moving to Colorado, I bought a copy of the original Borneman and Lampbert 14er Guide.  I pawed through it at home in San Jose and there was absolutely no doubt that I would climb them all.  My last week living in California was spent on a backpacking trip along the John Muir Trail ending on Mt. Whitney.  I went home, packed, drove to Colorado, arrived just before Labor Day, climbed Longs Peak that Saturday, and gobbled up fifteen 14ers that year.

You have done a lot of solo ascents, probably well over a thousand. I’m sure you are well aware of the additional risks involved in climbing solo, and obviously you are willing to accept this level of risk. Giusto Gervasutti says “In order to realize your full potential you MUST climb solo”. What do you think about this statement?

Ken: Climbing solo is very natural for me.  I feel most at home while bushwhacking through a remote forest or wandering up a rocky/snowy ridge.  Over time, I’ve developed a very intimate relationship with the mountains.  That would not have happened if I didn’t regularly climb by myself.  I immensely enjoy being in the mountains with friends, but I can’t imagine never going solo.  For me personally, I could not have “realized my full potential” without climbing alone on a regular basis.
     Twenty-five years ago, I was much bolder than I am now and probably took unreasonable risks.  I’ve mellowed and today I often get bummed at myself because I’ve become a complete pansy.  Certainly I accept the risks for myself and never expect to be bailed out of any difficulty that I get myself into.  The more interesting question is the fairness of accepting that risk on behalf of a spouse or friends.  That’s a useful discussion to have with anyone who’s depending on you to come home.
     Obviously, different folks enjoy the mountains in different ways.  I’ve met people who believe that solo climbers ought to be arrested.  Some folks are not competent to be by themselves or are just plain uncomfortable alone in the forest and up on the peaks, while others enjoy the experience so much more when shared with friends that the social aspect becomes more important than the climbing.  That’s great.  We all have our different styles.
     For anyone interested in pursuing a long peak list, unless an integral part of the plan is to do it with a regular partner, being comfortable camping, climbing, and driving long distances alone is a great benefit.  It could be tough to find a casual partner willing to drive to Pagosa Springs and pack in to climb Unnamed 12154.

There are probably not a lot of other people out there attacking the lists as you have. Most likely you have gotten to know them all. Is there a lot of competition within this elite group of Colorado peakbaggers?

Ken: I’ll have to pass on answering that for Bob Martin and Mike Garratt.  For myself, there has been none.  I first got the idea in 1985 to wonder whether anyone had or if it would be possible to climb all the 13ers, so I started actively working on the Highest 100 and climbing any poor innocent 13er in the vicinity while I was at it.  Jean Aschenbrenner and I began climbing together in 1988 and did most of our remaining 13ers together.  I was about a year’s worth ahead when we started and we finished that way.  If we had been more in sync at the start, we would have finished together.  I believe there are 5 people who have finished the 13ers since we did, but they were spread out pretty well, so I don’t think any of them were directly competing.  As far as I know, other than Bob and Mike, only Jack Dais and I have gone on to climb a significant number of 12ers.  We are good friends, talk often, and have helped each other get up some interesting peaks.  At this extreme, there are precious few people that you can talk to about the peaks.  It makes for a cooperative rather than competitive atmosphere.  Each of us obviously has a very intense focus when it comes to accomplishing our own goals, but it’s been great when doing things together.  Maybe if I were approaching a milestone hot on someone’s heels, my “dark side” would be revealed and I’d try the Tonya Harding approach.
     It’s a reach to include this in a discussion of competitiveness, but I’ll ramble a bit.  There’s a well-known progression in technical climbing that yesterday’s “last great problem” becomes tomorrow’s “easy day for a lady”.  Most climbers today don’t appreciate or even know what Heckmair, Vorg, Harrer, and Kasparek did in 1938.  When someone does that today, it’s not worth a trip report to the local FourteenerWorld.  So, it’s natural and inevitable that someday 13er and 12er list finishers will become a dime-a-dozen.  For the next generation, just climbing a thousand peaks won’t be enough.  They’ll need the greater challenge of climbing them in a single calendar year.  I understand that, but I selfishly hope that in my lifetime it remains something special.  The pursuit should be just as much fun for folks in years to come, but it won’t be because the adventure will be diminished … and I’ll have to take partial responsibility for that. 

Within the sport of climbing 14ers there are certain written or unwritten ethical “rules”. For instance, we have had the “11” rule, the 300’ drop between the saddle rule, the 3,000’ minimum elevation gain rule, etc. Do these same ethics or rules apply to the 13ers and 12ers? Within your elite group of Peakbaggers, is there any conflict as to what the “official” rules or ethics are?

Ken: The 300’ drop rule was used to determine official peaks at all elevations.  So, for instance, the traditional 14ers North Maroon and El Diente are not included in the 1313 peaks above 12,000’, while Challenger Point does make the list.
     I know that a few years ago at least one person was working with a list of 13ers with 500’ or 1000’ saddle drops.  I have a friend who is working on his Highest 400.  I believe that he’s still using a list that does not have the concept of ranked vs. unranked.  A peak makes the list if it has a 300’ drop or has a name, even if that name is one of the old San Juan Mountaineers S, T, or U designations.  I suppose the CMC is as good an authority to manage and referee an “official” list as anyone, but it’s not as if there was a meeting of all concerned years ago to decide what the rules would be.  The Garratt & Martin High Thirteeners Guide published a list of 13ers developed by several people and most folks who are interested seem to have accepted it … except that there are a few problems.
     In later editions, they apparently removed Bartlett Mountain from the list.  This is the peak above the Climax Mine at Fremont Pass.  Mining operations have obviously lowered the 13,555’ elevation shown on the quad, but I’ve just left it on my list at the original elevation.  On his web site, Gerry Roach includes it as a ranked peak at 13,400’.  I have no idea whether most folks who have completed the 13ers have climbed it (for what its worth, the ascent involves an interesting finish).
     In the La Plata Range, the Garratt & Martin list, based on the quads, shows Mt. Moss as a ranked peak at 13,192’ and Lavender Peak as an extrapolated unranked peak at 13,180’.  In the field, it’s obvious that Lavender Peak is higher (and is a splendid climb in a fabulous setting).  Gerry’s web site lists Lavender as the ranked peak at 13,220’ and Moss as unranked.  Nearby, the quad suggests that the highpoint of Babcock Peak is the 13,149’ eastern summit.  Actually, one of the western summits is higher and Gerry shows it as 13,180’.  Both summits are delightful and well worth the effort.  What to do?  Climb everything in sight!
     There are a few glitches with the 12ers, but these are explained in some notes on Gerry’s web site for those who are, like myself and a certain unnamed forum member whose initials are RS, anal enough to care.
     The lists are being complicated by the new baseline elevation.  With all(?) Colorado peaks being promoted by a few feet, the 14er list seems safe, but as many as five 12ers may become 13ers.  Over the past two years, I climbed the three 11ers above 11,990’ in case they become 12ers.  Hmmm, I suppose that if I had waited I might have gotten to be the first person to complete the 12ers on two different occasions.
     Perhaps the most interesting ethical question involves the peaks on private property or in the Boulder watershed.  Folks hoping to win the lottery to climb Culebra are quite familiar with the issue.  I know that climbers have “solved” the problem in different ways.  Apparently, the options are to request/pay for permission and climb with full legal blessing, trespass after permission has been denied, trespass while intentionally not requesting permission, and, after repeated failures to obtain permission, cross peaks off the list as “not legally accessible”.  Whichever you chose, you’re sure to find someone who believes that you have acted immorally.  You’ll notice that I’m not answering the obvious question – I’m practicing to run for governor.  One friend has suggested developing a list of legally accessible peaks to become the “official” list.  Interesting idea, but I wonder how much flux there would be over the years.
     I certainly did not strictly observe a 3,000’ rule for the lower 12ers – that would make for some pretty interesting days.  I used a sort of  “natural trailhead” rule.
     So, fortunately, anyone can create a list and play by any rules they want.  A problem can arise when several people report that they have done something and it takes a bit to sort out whether they are making the same claim.  At this point there aren’t enough players to make it as interesting as rock climbing ethical questions like traditional vs. sport, placing pro on rappel, or chipping holds.  I suppose someday, if many more people are completing these lists, someone will want to clarify just what is being claimed.  I think I’ll just go climb a few more peaks.

According to your resume, over the past 25 years you have accumulated almost 2,500 Colorado mountain ascents. That’s an average of 100 ascents per year. Just out of curiosity, how come it took you six years to finish the fourteeners?

Ken: I first came to Colorado in 1978 on a temporary assignment for a year, then lived in Tucson for a year and a half before moving back.  In 1981 and 1983, I spent long summer periods on international climbs and I lost almost all of 1982 hobbling around with damage from the Mt. Logan expedition.  I never made more than about 50 ascents in a year until 1986.  I did 125 that year and that’s been typical for the years since.

You say that you have no intention of climbing the 11ers. Why not? Did you say the same thing about the 12ers after finishing the 13ers?

Ken: I’m out climbing peaks year round.  During the winters of 1991 and 1992, it became very difficult to access ranked or even unranked 13ers that I hadn’t climbed.  To scratch the itch to climb new peaks, I began to do some of the accessible high 12ers.  That led me to think about making a list.  I ended up spending untold hours at the USGS office in Denver searching quads to make my initial list of 12ers.  When I started the process, I figured that, since I was looking anyway, I might as well include the 11ers at the same time.  On one of the first quads I checked I found a ranked 11er below treeline.  The average treeline in Colorado is about 11,500’, so you would figure that about half would be below.  Well, I love climbing and wandering alpine terrain.  When I lived near the Adirondacks, below treeline summits were fine, but with all the fun things to play with in Colorado and the West, I couldn’t imagine myself devoting much time to treed summits.  I decided not to include the 11ers at the time and I guess I’ve retained my preference for alpine terrain.
     So, even before finishing the 13ers, I had already sort of started on the 12ers.  I very much enjoy revisiting peaks, but the big kick for me is the approach and route planning for new peaks.  I “needed” the 12ers, but when I started I didn’t really have a plan to climb them all and no clue how many would be seriously technical.  Bob, Mike, and I merged our lists into the list you see now on Gerry’s website and off I went.  By 2000, my body was becoming less functional and I thought that calling it good at the Highest 1000 would be a fine idea.  The truth of the matter is that I didn’t want to have to deal with Twin Peaks and Turret Ridge.  I finished the 1000 over Labor Day of 2000 and announced my promotion to dignified elder statesman.  But, nasty habits are hard to break.  A few months later it was obvious that I hadn’t missed a beat.  In 2001, Jean and I went down and looked at Twin Peaks and decided it was possible for me.  The next summer, a remarkably competent friend led the route and that left only the incredible Turret Ridge as a serious obstacle.  If I had realized how hideous that was going to be, I might have stopped right there.
     What now?  I’ve climbed 121 of the 125 Named Peaks in RMNP.  I’ll wait until next year to complete those and maybe I’ll play with Gerry’s extended list.  There are about 20 of the almost 300 named but unranked peaks above 12,000’ that I haven’t climbed.  I’d like to get that down to 10 or so.   The rest are too technical or dangerous for me at this point.  I think I’ll plan on climbing my highest unclimbed peak each year.  I have a long list of different routes I want to do and favorites to revisit.  I’ve climbed 36 of the 54 traditional 14ers in winter and 63 of the Highest 100 in winter.  I’ll continue to work at those on and off with the hope of finishing 80 of the Highest 100.  I won’t do all of the 14ers in winter.
     During all the years of doing international trips, I really neglected the American and Canadian West.  I’m looking forward to correcting that.  I suspect that I won’t do another significant foreign trip, but I’d love to climb some more in Bolivia and Peru.  I’ve done quite a bit of exploring in the Utah canyons and I suspect that after a few more years that will be my main outdoor activity.
     I can now spend more of my climbing day searching for the perfect Indian Paintbrush (it’s just a tad darker than pure scarlet and the lobes have that subtle curve with just a hint of flair) or Rhizocarpon Geographicum lichen (it’s larger than average with a thick pro-thallus and a bit more yellow than the normal chartreuse … No, Jennifer, it’s not Carpa Diem National Geographica).  I’ll be retiring relatively soon, so I’ll be able to play as much as I want.  What? You think I’ve already been doing that?
     All that said, I am very aware of my “dark side” and its weakness for peaks lists.  My back and feet don’t buy this “no 11ers” stuff for a minute.  For 25 years, almost half my existence, I have organized my life to do this sort of thing.  There’s the whole idea of working toward a tangible physical goal and being able to unambiguously measure myself by my progress.  This applies equally to working on a list and to climbing an individual peak.  That’s a big psychological void to fill.  It will be interesting to see how it turns out.

Ken on Himalaya climb in India 1989
 

Ken on Mount Elbert 1992 after completing all of the Colorado mountains 13,000' and above

If someone was to ever write a book about Colorado peakbaggers, starting with people like Carl Blaurock, Bill Erwin, Bob Ormes, etc, who are some of the people that should get separate chapters?

Ken: The latest edition of Bill Bueler’s Roof of the Rockies has a chapter on modern peakbagging that includes some familiar names.  If a book were devoting chapters to prominent Colorado peakbaggers, it would have to start with Blaurock, Erwin, and Albert Ellingwood.  Mary Cronin was the first woman to finish the 14ers soon after in 1934.  What would Bob Ormes have accomplished with modern highways in place?  A list of the Highest 100 wasn’t developed until the 1970s and Spencer Swanger was the first to complete it in 1977.  My old expedition buddy Dick Dietz and Stan Laidlaw followed in 1979.  In the 1980s, Bob Martin and Mike Garratt began “serious” peakbagging.
     In the late 1980s, I climbed a few times with Bill Henry.  He finished the Highest 200 in 1988.  Bill had only one leg and did all his approaches using crutches.  On Pilot Knob, he humored me and tied into the rope only to prevent my having a heart attack watching him cruise the ridge.  He deserves a chapter.  Bill died a few years later.

Your accomplishments are an inspiration to perfectly healthy folks, but even more amazing in light of having AS for 30 years. Is hiking your "antidote" to AS? Have you ever sent your amazing story to AS organizations (like http://www.spondylitis.org/ "Athletes Against AS" section)?

Ken: I suppose that hiking and climbing is my antidote, although my rheumatologist would be happier if I would someday “get” the concept of moderation.  The activity is good, but the truth is that I take a ton of drugs every day to keep smiling and self-inject myself with some exotic stuff several times a week.  Even with that, by 1997 I had abused myself to the point that I had to have a spinal fusion done or … well, I guess there is no or; I had to have a spinal fusion.
     Years ago, there was an AS support group in Denver.  I attended several meetings, but found that the other folks had a different problem.  They were trying to force themselves to exercise while I was, at least in theory, trying to limit myself.  No, I’ve never mentioned anything to the AS organization.  I used to send my doctor postcards from Tibet or Tajikistan or wherever so he could show them to other patients for inspiration.
     Over many years, I think this has limited my ability to train more that my actual climbing.  A few times I tried to resume running, but it always ended disastrously.  I have to be more creative in developing workouts.  Fortunately, living in Boulder, that’s not too difficult.
     Despite the drugs and surgery, my body has just about had enough.  It’s put up with a lot and served me way above and beyond the call of duty, but my balance and coordination seem to have suffered appreciably during the last few years.  It may be time to confess that I’m mostly a hiker (hill walker?) rather than a mountaineer.

You must have had a few "moments of doubt" as you climbed all of these mountains. Were there times when you thought about quitting "the lists"?

Ken: I mentioned that doubts about Twin Peaks and Turret Ridge contributed to my temporarily deciding to call it good at the Highest 1000 a few years ago.  Other than that, I don’t think so.  I’m out climbing stuff all the time and I’ve especially enjoy the planning for and snooping into new places.  The lists have provided a wonderful excuse to explore areas that I might not have gotten to.

Have you had any memorable celebrations on mountain summits for your major milestones?

Ken: I finished the 14ers on Mt. Wilson with a couple of friends along.  We didn’t do anything special on top and I don’t recall thinking that it was a big deal.  In 1992, during the end game for the 13ers, I decided to select a symbolic peak for the last.  Jean joined me for a backpack to climb Unnamed 13010 on the Cimarrona Peak quad.  It’s about as obscure and rarely visited as any 13er. My only regret is that we didn’t summit until late afternoon and had a ways to go before finding a campsite.  We only spent about 20 minutes on top.  I believe you would call it quiet satisfaction rather than a celebration.  I felt as much bittersweet sadness as I did joy.  Next morning, we climbed two high 12ers before packing out.  A week later, I collected a bunch of old cronies and we had a champagne party on top of Mt. Elbert.
     This year, I selected Unnamed 12003 on the South River Peak quad for the finish.  It lives deep in the heart of Twelverville.  The area between Pagosa Springs and Creede is thick with 12ers, but has only a single 13er near the northern end.  Unnamed 12003 hides among its taller neighbors.  We are talking serious obscure here.  I wanted to be in “savor the end” mode for the final weekend, but it didn’t turn out that way.  On Saturday, Jean and I had to race nasty weather to get up Eagle Mtn.  We no sooner unroped and escaped the ridge than we had to cower from a thunderstorm that dropped a thick coat of hail.  On Sunday, a fog layer hung out between 11,000’ and 12,000’ most of the day.  After a long trail hike and a tougher-than-expected bushwhack, we had to climb up through the clouds wondering whether the route was going to go and if we would be able to find the summit in poor visibility.  We broke out into clear skies and pleasant tundra, then, just when I was getting emotional and slowly strolling to the top, found that the two summit bumps maybe 200 feet apart were the same height.  I had to walk back and forth several times with my sight level to pick an uncertain winner.  It was a bit anticlimactic, but I suppose appropriate for this sort of quest.  Anyway, we hid from a November breeze for most of an hour and admired the spectacular cliffs to the north.  I treated myself to a full-size Milky Way.

Who were the three people who died in the Mount Logan avalanche (http://alpineclub-edm.org/accidents/accident.asp?id=442)? This tragic event changed your focus to general mountaineering. Did you have any specific goals that you did not pursue after this trip?

Ken: The only name that people might know is Franz Mohling.  He was a Physics Professor at the University of Colorado, a contributor to Freedom of the Hills, and took part in an early attempt on the East Ridge of Mt. Logan.  The others were local Boulder climbers.  It’s hard to believe that the trip was more than twenty years ago.  The link you have above is a one-paragraph summary.  I wrote an article about the trip that appeared in the Nov-Dec 1984 issue of Summit Magazine.
     At the time, I was on my way to becoming a hardcore climber.  I assumed that I would keep increasing technical difficulty and commitment.  We were attempting to get up a previously unexplored ridge on the North Face of the highest peak in Canada and I would certainly have attempted an interesting route on Denali within a few years.  Afterward, I pretty much abandoned rock and ice climbing and serious expeditions.  I have snooped into some exotic mountain areas around the world, but they’ve mostly been “family style” trips with a few friends.  I did have the misfortune in 1990, as part of the Soviet Union’s International Mountaineering Camp in the Pamirs, to be at Camp I on Peak Lenin when 43 folks died just a bit above us.  I wrote an article about that trip for the June 1991 issue of the CMC’s Trail and Timberline.
     The frostbitten hands and feet I got in 1982 are still a nuisance today.  They would never survive a climb of Denali or another Arctic peak.  On summer climbs, I often start off wearing shorts, T-shirt, and mittens.  Modern chemical hand warmers have revolutionized my winter mountaineering.  I feel downright decadent using them and am able to do things in relative comfort and safety that were a real problem for me ten years ago. 

What is your favorite mountain area in Colorado? in the US? in the Americas? in the world?

Ken: As you might imagine, with apologies to Will Rogers, I’ve never met a mountain I didn’t like.  I don’t have a single favorite peak, but I do have some favorite areas.  Within Colorado, the Gore Range is my favorite for spectacular mountain scenery, fun climbs on terrain that’s always interesting and rarely desperate, solitude, and a special feeling of intimacy.  Happiness is spending a delightful day scrambling around, finding a spot below Peak G wide enough for your tent, and watching the goats frolic as the sun goes down.  I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for the Adirondacks.  Mt. Shasta in Northern California was great before it was “discovered”.  It’s where I first started to think of myself as a climber rather than a backpacker. Internationally, the Cordillera Blanca in Peru is the most fun with the least hassle and discomfort.

Which are your least favorite Colorado mountains or routes?

Ken: I don’t think that I have a least favorite mountain, but I do have a least favorite day.  In 1992, at the end of a weeklong trip to the San Juans, Jean and I were planning to sleep in my truck and climb Hayden Mountain from a spot above Camp Bird Mine near Ouray.  In the evening, it started pouring and just got worse as the night wore on.  By 2:00 AM, neither of us had slept a wink, prospects for the morning were bleak, and we were concerned that the 4wd road would be impassable the next day, so we decided to head somewhere else.  Jean waded out at the creek crossings on the way down to see if we could get the truck across (yeah, yeah, trust me; you had to be there).  We did escape, drove to Gunnison, grabbed Egg McMuffins, and drove to Mill Creek to climb West Elk Peak.  At that time the road had several gates, the trailheads were poorly marked, and we didn’t have a map (I tend to have a good memory for any route I’ve ever looked at on a quad).  We got started on the wrong trail, wasted two hours, bushwhacked down to the real trailhead, and all was well … except that it was the most humid and buggiest day in the history of Colorado.  We hadn’t slept, we were slimy filthy from a long trip, and it’s a long way in.  When we reached the top, I lay down and explained to Jean that when she got back to Gunnison to go to the sheriff’s office and arrange for a helicopter to fetch me.

I don’t know whether I’m glad that she ignored me, but I’ve climbed West Elk Peak a few more times and enjoyed the area.

What was your most delightful moment on a mountain?

Ken: I can’t pick a single most delightful moment.  There have been many climbs over the years, my first ascent of La Plata in 1978 and Dallas Peak in 1987 come to mind, that were done on perfectly crisp autumn days at the height of the aspen display with just the right amount of new snow around to highlight the rock faces.  Life in the mountains does not get any better than that.
     I’m not sure delightful is the right word, but a February climb of Holy Cross with Jean was one of the most rewarding.  We did the Halo Ridge route over Holy Cross Ridge with two nights camped in the Notch Mountain shelter.  Getting back to the shelter before dark and knowing that we had pulled it off safely was … yes, delightful.

What was your most terrifying moment on a mountain?

Ken: Expeditionary climbing is accurately described as week after week of unmitigated drudgery and labor punctuated by the odd moment of stark terror.  My worst moment came in 1982 on Mt. Logan.  In a camp a ways above some major ice cliffs, during a heavy snowstorm, I was standing outside next to a tent.  In the next instant, I was in an avalanche flying down the slope.  I tried to fight it and keep from being buried, but at the same time I was terrified that if I stayed afloat I’d be swept over the cliffs.  I suppose it was pure luck that got me out the side in time.

Who were your early mountaineering mentors? Who have been some of your mountaineering mentees?

Ken: Although we knew each other for less than two years, my mentor was Franz Mohling.  He was, in his early 50s, the Grand Old Man of the Boulder Group of the Colorado Mountain Club.  I moved back to Boulder in 1980 just in time to attend the Annual Dinner.  Franz did the feature slide presentation of an attempt on Centennial Ridge of Mt. Logan that year.  I was very impressed.  Maybe I could do something like that someday.  That winter we started ice climbing and doing some peaks together.  I was amazed that he took an interest in me.  The next summer we went to Peru with a group and climbed Huascaran among other things in the Cordillera Blanca.  When he did the slide presentation of that trip at the 1981 Dinner, I had somehow been transformed from aspiring wanabe to “real climber guy doing interesting things in exotic lands”.  In 1982, we went to Mt. Logan and I had to leave him there.
     Mentees?  I suppose that in the mid 1980s I climbed with some guys who might have thought of me as their mentor, but by then I had pretty much left technical climbing behind and was becoming focused on peak bagging.  For some reason, my occasional partners, instead of being thrilled to “enjoy a full mountain day” seemed to end up muttering something about a death march.
     Over the years, I’ve corresponded with many folks interested in pursuing the 13er list or asking for route information on specific peaks, but we’ve done relatively few trips together.  I’m always willing to tell anyone everything I know about a peak, but I also ask him/her to consider just how much information they really want.  The lower peaks are on average more difficult, but the thing that really differentiates them from the 14ers is the lack of easily available information on approaches and routes.  To paraphrase from an email I sent earlier this year … From my perspective, among the greatest pleasures of climbing the more obscure peaks is the requirement for problem solving and the sense of discovery derived from exploring "unknown" terrain.  I think that you are cheating yourself and diminishing your accomplishment if you rely too heavily on guidebooks or detailed descriptions.  In retrospect, although frustrating at the time, some of the most memorable and rewarding peaks were those that required multiple attempts to achieve the summit.  So, ultimately I am willing to give you as much information as I have, but I encourage you use the skills and experience that you’ve acquired to solve some of the interesting problems.

What is the single most important piece of advice that you would give to someone just starting out?

Ken: I won’t try to give anybody advise about how to go about climbing the 14ers or 13ers or whatever.  Everyone has their own style and advising someone to stop and smell the columbines is pointless if they’re moving to New Jersey when they graduate.  Here’s something that is not always obvious even to folks who have climbed a bunch of 14ers.  Colorado peak climbing is a different sport in winter.  Summer is very forgiving of your screw-ups.  Things that lead to a minor glitch on a summer 14er will kill you very quickly on a typical winter day.  Yes, in order to grow you have to push your limits, but there’s a fine line between that and being stupid.  Approach that line with caution.  Know what you are about.  Develop experience and judgment.  Find out how you and your gear function in sub-zero whiteout spindrift on that little saddle on the Bierstadt ridge before heading to Uncompahgre where escape is not so easy.

For the record-keeping fanatics out there: Do you have a special system to record your trips, summits, comments, etc.? You seem to be able to provide detailed information about so many peaks and routes for the folks here at 14erWorld. Is this all from memory, or do you have a mountain log to reference?

Ken: I’ve been a computer programmer since 1966 and have designed and implemented Graphical User Interfaces for a long time.  Years ago I wrote a Windows GUI to keep track of the lists and my ascents.  Some highlights: It can instantly show me the full list or any elevation range sorted by elevation, alphabetically, by quad, by range, or by number of ascents.  It does ranked, unranked, or all peaks.  It can show climbed, unclimbed, or unclimbed in winter.  I can choose a date range.  It can display a summary of climbed vs. unclimbed for any milestone, total ascents, winter ascents, total days on which I’ve climbed a peak, many “bests” such as most ascents of new ranked peaks in a day, and statistics for any year.  It can show my entire Colorado climbing history in chronological order.  I can add comments for any climb or to show why there is no ascent for any time period.  It can display a map showing where all the peaks are in Colorado color-coded by ranked vs. unranked and climbed vs. unclimbed or, for instance, all unclimbed ranked peaks in the Highest 1200.  It can show quads in the background and allows me to zoom in and scroll around.  Or I can click on a peak name and have the map show me where it is.  Whew!  That’s pretty impressive!  I add some useful feature to it every once in awhile.
     In addition, I started keeping a climbing journal in 1983.  Sometimes I write only a paragraph or two, sometimes a full-blown trip report with personal stuff.  I almost never refer back to it.  At this point, I suspect that it’s a habit as much as anything.  But, someday soon when I’m institutionalized, I can spend my time reading about the glory days and making outrageous claims to my fellow inmates.
     Now, all that aside, I have a more or less photographic memory for every trip I’ve ever done in Colorado.  I get a bit confused sometimes about the unnamed peaks (is that Unnamed 13736 or 13756 on the ridge north of Mt. Champion?), but once we establish which peak we’re talking about, I can usually recall when I climbed it, with whom, any incidents of the day, and route details.  If I go back years later, I can sometimes even remember what’s around the next bend in the trail.  Yes, yes, this is very suspicious behavior and a significant personality defect. - The End