Our original mission was to summit Forbidden Peak in the North Cascades, but the mountains had other plans. A massive storm swept across Washington, forcing us to pivot. That detour led me to something I’ve dreamed about since my first visit to Rocky Mountain National Park in 2019: the Diamond of Longs Peak.
Rising 1,500 feet above Chasm Lake to 14,200 feet in elevation, the Diamond is a sheer wall of granite, beautiful, intimidating, and the most challenging objective of my “weekend warrior” climbing career. This time, everything seemingly aligned: the weather, the team, and months of physical and mental preparation. It was finally time to take on a route that had lived in my imagination for years.
We started our six‑mile approach from 9,400 feet at 3:00 a.m. By 5:30, as the first light spilled over the horizon, we rounded a corner and saw the Diamond for the first time that day. I felt a surge of energy and excitement, but surprisingly, no fear. It was like walking toward the world’s greatest playground.
At the base, we sipped water, ate a quick Clif Bar, and racked up. The first 600 feet of low 5th‑class climbing went quickly, bringing us to the technical heart of the route. I took the sharp end for the opening pitch; Jeff led the next few pitches, and that’s when we hit the surprise. Ice.
It had rained more than usual the week before, and at this elevation, that meant snow. By day it melted; by night it froze. The sun was out, but the air was colder than expected. A few degrees warmer and the ice would have been gone, but it clung stubbornly to the rock.
We pressed on, even as the cold numbed our fingers and toes. But a few hundred feet shy of the summit, we reached an entire section glazed in ice, too treacherous to climb without taking unacceptable risks. The mountain had spoken.
We didn’t stand on the summit that day, but the experience was unforgettable, a reminder that in the alpine, as well as in life and business, the journey is the real prize.