#26 Testing the odds of being struck by lightning ..
Lone Cone Peak as seen from halfway up our way to the trailhead
This was a proverbial close shave …
From the town of Norwood CO where we spent a week, the solitary and imposing Lone Cone Peak that sits about 30 miles away as the crow flies cannot be missed. We noticed on more than one day that there were dark clouds looming over the peak almost as though they were showering special attention on the grey giant even as there were clear skies for miles around.
We were recommended by our Airbnb host “a little known but very pretty” hike (“Goat Creek Trail”) that was in the vicinity of the peak - an 8-mile out-and-backer with 1300+ ft of elevation gain. After the almost daily hiking we did from our previous stop Silverton, for various reasons we were unable to go out hiking in Norwood for about 3 days that we were there. To make up for this, we decided to go out the following day. We had without fail been setting off early (at first light or at the latest within an hour of it) for all our previous hikes in Colorado. This was for multiple reasons - to avoid the mid-morning summer heat, to enjoy the hike before the late morning traffic hits, and to avoid the likelihood of late morning / early afternoon thunderstorms which are commonplace around the tall peaks here.
We made some cardinal hiking sins for this hike though, as for some reason we took it a little too casually. 1) We only got to the trailhead around 9:15 as we slept late and woke up late, 2) We weren’t as well stocked up on food, water and meds as this moderate hike warranted, and 3) While we checked the weather, we did not realize despite our observation of previous days that the weather for Lone Cone Peak could be entirely different than what was showing for Norwood.
We set off on the hike around 9:30 in bright sunshine and for the next hour or so, as we made it past the first 2 miles of steady ascent, it seemed like a lovely hike. There was zero traffic (ours was the only car at the trailhead) just as we prefer, we saw a bear (barely a few yards away but scampering off thankfully) and lots of birds including some grouse, we were almost entirely walking between lovely tall aspens and spruces, there was the eponymous Goat Creek playing hide and seek with us, and the peak was occasionally showing itself up. Around then, Namita noticed the sky showing shades of grey but it did not seem like much to me. As we made it past the third mile, the greys started getting darker and somewhat more menacing but I felt we could make it to the end and dash back, with perhaps some risk of rain but nothing too much worse than that. There was also a debate between us on whether what we heard a couple of times was the distant roar of thunder (Namita) or the rumble of jets soaring overhead (me).
About 15 mins later, and a half a mile further up the mountain, we felt the first drops of rain and the unmistakable sound of thunder although somewhat in the distance. We turned back right away but within a few minutes, it started to drizzle and we could hear the thunder from closer. The trailhead was 3.5 miles away. We had two choices - to follow the trail in its entirety or to take shortcuts across the switchbacks down the mountain where we could to hopefully save on time - but it was a gamble, would a well-trodden but longer path be faster or forging one’s own down a slippery forested mountainside be?
In barely a few minutes, it became a generous and continuous downpour and every few minutes, there would be a loud blast of thunder. What was barely a half hour ago an easily hiked path was now a stream of water cascading down, making for slippery progress. Given we were going downhill and by which time we were literally trotting down made it a question of only when we would slip and how badly we would fall.
We toyed with the idea of sheltering under the trees and waiting the weather out. But the rain seemed to be intensifying with little likelihood of a let-up and the thunder/lightning seemed to be getting louder and more frequent. We tried avoiding being out in the open and also avoiding the really tall trees - some precautions we had often read about but never ever needed to put into practice all these years.
By now, we were barely able to operate our phones owing to the completely wet screens and hands but with some difficulty, we saw from the weather apps that it was only going to get worse in the next hour. Now without an iota of debate and doubt, we determinedly continued making our way down, switching between the path and the mountainside. With about a mile to go, we decided to text our Airbnb host to let her know our predicament, just so at least someone was aware of our whereabouts and our dire situation.
By now, we were completely soaked from top to bottom, the shoes were caked with mud and Namita had had one fall, but thankfully not much the worse for it. We had no choice but to keep going - by this time, it seemed like the claps of thunder were deafening and they were right above our heads so much so I instinctively tried shielding my head with my hands - as though it would make a difference.
In the last half mile or so, it seemed like we were really testing the odds of being struck by lightning - almost every minute or two, an absolutely thunderous blast would go off and we could see bolts of lightning from the corner of our eyes. We just kept our heads down and footing secure as we continued our slow but steady progress. With barely a hundred yards to go, we set off on a wrong path but Namita thankfully decided to stop to check our path on AllTrails - but no, it went kaput. With adrenaline kicking in, I wandered instinctively to what I thought was the right path, and thankfully it turned out to be so.
At long last, we got a much welcome sight of our car, and we dashed our way in. Just as Namita was halfway in and before she could bang the door shut, there was the very loudest of thunders yet, no kidding - the timing was just unbelievable. But we were at last now safely ensconced in our car and slowly began to breathe.
In all, it must have taken us more than an hour from when we turned back to get to our car, and of this, the last 30 minutes or so were spent in sheer terror. In hindsight, we should have turned back as soon as we saw the first signs of grey clouds and that extra half a mile that we went before we eventually did almost made us pay a heavy price.
Generally we are fairly conservative in our choices - we pay heed to the weather, don’t go off on particularly risky hikes, but it was a great lesson for us on how quickly things can turn, and we will hopefully not make the mistakes we did on this one.
Lone Cone Peak as seen from the trail
