Smoke filtering in from the wildfires along the western slope shrouded the mountains as Dad and I charged up Floyd Hill in the Jeep.

I stared worryingly at the sky, wondering how might the day’s adventure be impacted by the wildfires. Sure, we weren’t in any danger of getting caught up in a fire, but I certainly didn’t appreciate the campfire scent that permeated the air, or the fact that the haze was so thick that I couldn’t even make out the mountains ahead of us. I could only hope it would clear out sooner than later. 

After a quick pitstop for snacks and drinks in Georgetown, we headed up Guanella Pass towards the trailhead, located on Georgetown-Snake River Wagon Road. Thanks to a bit of a breeze, there was less smoke in the air; it seemed to be clearing out. 

The very start of the Wagon Road trail was extremely steep and rocky. It seemed that large, river-washed rocks were put there on purpose to deter non-off-roaders from trying their luck. After all, Guanella pass had many places for tourists to pull over, admire the view, and read about history. Surely, a dirt road into the woods would be much more tempting to traverse, if it wasn’t peppered in huge boulders only a lifted jeep could handle. 

Thankfully, as soon as we rounded the first bend, the road smoothed out into a potholed, dirt road, with a swollen creek to its left, and a granite mountainside to its right. The Wagon Road snaked up the mountain for miles, through a dark, mossy forest of Douglas firs and aspens. Every now and then, we would stop to get out of the jeep, stretch our legs, and explore little overgrown trails that peeled off the main trail. 

Slowly but surely, the trees began to shorten and thin out as we climbed. Then, we came across a large, open clearing just below the treeline, where an abandoned mountain town called Waldorf once stood. All that was left of that mountain town were old, stone foundations and piles of mining tailings. Nobody was there, but us.

Talk about the drive up to the mountain crest.

The first signs of trouble came in the form of a wave of dust rushing down the mountain. It passed us with a hiss, and I gave my dad a fearful glance. Unlike me, I don’t even think he noticed the dust cloud. 

Soon enough, however, just before we reached the top, the wind could no longer be ignored. I rolled up my window to shield myself from the cold and dust, while Dad just kept on driving higher and higher. When we reached the crest, it felt like we were driving on the highway as we parked. 

At that point, my heart-rate was skyrocketing through the roof as my hands began to tremble. My dad acknowledged that it was “hella windy”, but still decided to step outside to experience it. 

“Holy shit!” I heard him laugh as he bent his knees to keep his balance. 

I was too afraid to say anything. I just stared at him from the shelter of the jeep, which was rocking side-to-side like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Then, my dad, grinning with delight, beckoned me to join him, to which I shook my head, only slightly though. I was paralyzed with fear. 

I watched wide-eyed and helpless as my dad hiked against the wind toward the mountain’s edge, where he stood for a few moments to take pictures and enjoy the view. All I could think was, “Oh my God, what if my dad gets knocked off the mountain?” My heart sped up even more as my dad hiked away from the jeep and onto an even narrower section of the mountain crest. Once again, he paused to take some pictures, until he sauntered back down the mountain, leaning his full body weight into the wind to stay upright. 

“Woo!” he shouted as he got back into the Jeep, “That is intense!”

“Yeah…” I nodded, “Can you- like-  point the jeep into the wind? It’s rocking really hard.”

“Oh, it’s not going anywhere.” Dad rolled his eyes. 

“Are you sure? It feels… unsteady.” I gulped. 

“It’s not that bad.” Dad smirked, “C’mon, now.”

I just stared at him in silence. Suddenly, an even stronger wind gust came roaring over the mountain, and I instinctually grabbed onto the “oh shit” bar with my right hand, and my dad’s arm with my left. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll reposition the jeep.” Dad sighed. 

Dad turned the jeep around and drove it onto the widest section of the mountain. The jeep was still broadside to the wind so I could get some pictures. Except, I was too afraid to really move as the wind seemed to strengthen even more.

Not long after we parked, two guys on dirtbikes arrived on the mountainside. They stayed pointed into the wind to dismount, then leaned their bikes against their backpacks and helmets to keep them upright. Much like my dad, the guys took turns leaning against the wind at the edge of the mountain, splaying their arms out like they were imitating an airplane. If the wind let up, surely, they’d slide 1,2oo feet down the mountainside on their faces. 

At some point, my dad stepped out of the jeep to ask the guys how long they’d be up there, because they were blocking our path down. I watched the guys through the rearview mirror, when one of them pointed towards the bottom of the mountain. I gazed where he pointed, and saw a convoy of jeeps slowly making their way up the narrow, one-way road up towards us. I knew, then, that we’d be stuck up there for awhile. 

Dad returned to the jeep, announced what I had already figured out, and offered me a sandwich from the back seat cooler. 

“Nah, I’m not hungry.” I shook my head. 

“You sure?” Dad asked as he held the turkey sandwich closer to my face so I could smell it. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” I replied. 

“You look… a bit ill.” Dad commented, “Are you sure you’re good? Eating might make you feel better.”

“I mean…” I sighed, “I don’t like being up here. But I’m not nauseous or anything. I just wanna get off this mountain. I can handle wind. I can handle heights. But I don’t like wind and heights very much.”

“Well, we have to wait awhile,” Dad began as he took a bite of his sandwich, “There’s like thirteen jeeps headed this way, and it’s a one-way trail for about a mile, as you know.”

“Yup.”

“We’ll head out as soon as those guys get up here. But, I promise that we’re safe where we’re at now. The wind isn’t that bad.”

“I don’t know…” I cringed as another massive gust roared over us, “It sounds pretty bad. It feels bad, too. I’m gettin’ kinda cold.”

“I mean… it’s not dangerous.” Dad clarified, “It would take a lot more wind to do anything to the jeep.”

“You sure about that?” I side-eyed him. 

“Yes. I’m certain that we’re good here.” he chewed.

To be continued...