Climbing Hells Hole
We woke up at 7 AM, packed and jetted out of the hotel for Hells Hole, which lay an hour east of Denver. We asked some people for directions as we obviously got lost. They told us to head to Mt. Evans and turn at the little brown sign talking about Arapahoe County.
We got to the mountain and started the hike at 9:15 AM. For the most part, they marked the trail fairly well. Parts of it, not labeled properly, but we thought at most we would hike six miles to Hells Hole and back. It ended up being just under a ten-mile hike.
We ended up exploring off the trail entering bushy, prickly terrain. Our shoes soaked from the cold spring water seeping between our toes. Twigs scratching against our thighs, knees, calves and arms.
We tilted our heads and looked up at the slanted mountainside looming ahead. We started climbing the ascent. My left hand on the GoPRO and right hand gripping the tiny holds on the mountainside while my toes planted in a sturdy place looking for my next hold.
We reached the halfway point and time ticked away as we continued climbing further. We needed to head back to the car so Trevor did not miss his flight. The descent, much harder, than climbing up the mountainside. I tried to look over my shoulder at spots to mount my feet for stabilization, but which much difficulty.
We eventually ended up making great time and finished the hike at 3 PM.
Trevor dropped me off near Lakewood and headed down Interstate 70 to catch his flight. I pedaled to Indian Hot Springs looking for a spot to camp, but their campground was closed due to the government shutdown. They gave me directions to Barbers Fork, a free campground, but after trekking four miles uphill I could not find it.
I pulled off the road and found a spot to camp on a cliff. I hid my food in a tree a few hundred yards away from where I slept.