Caught In A Mountain Thunderstorm [True Story]

When I was about twelve years old my dad, his wife, and I took a trip to Estes Park, Colorado - to the prestigious Rocky Mountains.

We stayed for two weeks at a cabin called Luther Lodge overlooking the Long's Peak (below):

Note: I don't have the actual pictures of our trip 20 years ago. My dad has some but they are unavailable to me at the writing of this post, so I have pulled some pictures off the web for reference.

Longs Peak - Above

I actually found a picture of the EXACT cabin we stayed in (above).

The following is a TRUE STORY from one of the hikes we went on while we were in the Rockies.

Buckle up!

It was early in the morning when we piled into the rental car and drove to the trailhead. I can't remember the trailhead's name (as it's been about 20 years since then), but I know the trail we were going up resulted in 'seeing a waterfall' and 'potentially summiting a mountain.'

These were pretty common goals when we hiked. At the young age of twelve, I wasn't a newby to summiting mountains.

When I was 8-10 years old I lived in Montana about 80 miles from Glacier National Park. We went there every weekend, and at age nine I did my first 20-mile day hike in the mountains.

Hiking in the Rockies is a bit different than Glacier.

You have to start out very early (in the summertime of course) if you want to ascend past the treeline (treeline is past the point where trees can survive).

The reason for this is the climate in Estes Park, CO.

I can't explain why, but there are almost always large thunderstorms in the Rockies each afternoon. No one knows exactly when it will hit, but you had better be off the mountains when it does (below treeline) or you will be the only thing sticking up out there in the air during a thunderstorm.

Imagine being the only thing taller than a rock in the middle of a shower of lightning...

I don't think I need to explain why that is bad...

So, we started our hikes in the Rockies early enough that we would be back down before the potential storms hit.

I have always hated getting up before 5:00 A.M., and though I'm not sure - it might have been my 12-year-old sleepiness that made us run a little late that day.

Nevertheless, we started our hike. I suppose my dad must have figured we'd just "make great time" and everything would be okay.

We trudged down the path, knocking miles off the walk in a very short time. We swept through the trees and alongside a low mountain lake on our journey. Eventually, the trail turned us higher in altitude toward the upcoming waterfall.

I'm pretty sure this is the actual waterfall we visited, but I can't be 100%

About six miles into our hike we reached the beautiful cascade of mountain water. It wasn't a huge waterfall, but it had some height to it. It was the result of glacial snowmelt trickling together and sprinkling itself over an edge - giving the wall of rock a 'weeping' appearance.

We took in the sight for a few minutes. The weather seemed to be holding up.

The sun was still shining... blue sky... not a cloud in sight...

Maybe it isn't going to storm today?

Maybe we can reach the summit if we hurry...?

I guess that is what my dad and I elected to do. His wife, of course, was along for the ride - and up we went. We attempted to move as quickly as possible.

We were already above treeline at the falls, but after leaving there to attempt the summit we found ourselves even further up.

As we crossed the top of the ridge the skyline unveiled the other side of the mountain... and, of course...

another side of the sky...

What we didn't realize was the mountain had been blocking our view when we were at the falls.

We couldn't see the other side...

This was a big problem because it meant that we were completely unaware of the monstrosity that loomed overhead.

Staring back at us was a half-dome of clouds. They were black as evil and thick as smoke, sparking as though Zeus was rubbing his hands together over the earth in preparation for Armageddon.

"Well.. that's not good..." My dad said.

There was an unfamiliar sound in his voice. It sounded like it was wavering - was that fear? I thought.

We didn't have much time...

Without spending so much as a second to explain, my dad started speeding down the mountain.

"Keep up!" He yelled back to us as the rumble of the storm began to crackle over the tops of the peak.

Half running, half power-walking, we moved down that mountain as fast as we could... but we weren't quite fast enough.

The first alpine trees (small, deformed trees that grow at high-altitude) had begun to make their appearance around the trail, but they were only 1-3 feet tall at best. This wouldn't provide protection.

Above is a picture of a Colorado alpine... No... it's probably not a baby tree.. it may never get much larger than this...

CRACK!!!

The sky lit up as the first bolts of lightning started to pound down upon the mountain just behind where we were. I glanced up for a moment, almost tripping, and saw the mouth and wings of the beast spread across the horizon.

CRACK! CRACK!

The sky opened wide, and huge chunks of hail started pelting us as they bounced across the trail. In less than 60 seconds there were 3-feet of hail, ice, and water on the ground - and it wasn't slowing down...

... but neither were we...

The bottom layer of the hail was melting into running water, while the top was a collection of ice. We trudged through the mud and ice as fast as we could.

Who knew the weather could be this volatile?

Within 5 minutes we had gone from a beautiful sunny day on the mountain to a deadly thundering hailstorm that threatened our very lives...

CRACK! c-C-C-CRRRAAACKK!!!

Our hearts were pounding, and we were gasping for breath by the time we descended below treeline. We passed along the side of the lake where more bolts of lightning struck...

At this point we were safe - but moving as fast as we could so we didn't get too cold.

After all, we were wading through 3-feet of ice water for hours, trying to make it back to the trailhead six or seven miles away.

The adrenaline surging through my veins prevented me from feeling any of the cold. When we finally got back to the vehicle and I removed my hiking boots - my feet were steaming.

I wasn't cold at all... I was steaming.

... and I was also grateful. We pulled off as much of the wet clothing as we could beneath the back door of the vehicle (it was an SUV) and piled in to turn on the heat.

On the way back to the cabin, I remembered the last time this happened to us...

You see, this was the second time I'd been misplaced above treeline during a thunderstorm in my life. The time before, we were climbing up something called "Flat Top Mountain."

At the summit.. it was a similar story... but lightning struck so close to me my hair actually stood up and pushed the hood of my raincoat outward.

It sounded like an explosion went off. There was no thunder... Just a huge BANG and the sounds of rocks... That was intense!

Anyway... it was good reliving this moment with you...

I hope you enjoyed it!