trapped.

This morning I got ready to go downtown. What with work and hiking most of the time, I rarely make myself look nice. Today, I put on heels, I did my hair, then I discovered that I locked my car in my garage.  Yesterday with my arms full,  I left my automatic door opener in my vehicle in my tiny garage, and hit the button on the inside wall on the way out. The many keys I received from my landlord were mostly duplicates, none of which opened the door. I called my landlord, who told me in a frazzled voice this has never happened and she had no idea what to do. I suggested she call the garage door company to find out if there is a keypad or back up opener. Turns out there was a keypad under a box and she gave me the code. Hopeful for a day of fun I went back to the garage, tried the keypad, and nothing happened.  With my screwdriver being locked in my trunk, I used a pocket knife to unscrew the lid covering the 12 volt battery. The only choice I had was to walk a mile and a half to ACE hardware to purchase a replacement. Guess where my wallet was. In my car..

Luckily I had an extra check book, so I grabbed it and my passport (my license being in my wallet) and walked down the busy road in 90 degrees. I made it back, my morning spent with this fiasco, and tried out the new battery. Nothing. Happened.

There was no schedule I had to keep today, so while annoying, this situation wasn't too inconvenient. Until I called my landlord again.  The keypad didn't work, the battery didn't help, there was no extra key.  After calling around the landlord told me that the garage door company would come tomorrow to fix the issue, and I was responsible to pay for it. This is where, for lack of a better description, I lost it.  Without yelling I explained to her that this was not my financial responsibility.  Yes, I had been foolish enough to lock my car in the garage, but their back up system was faulty. Had I purchased or installed this garage door system, then it would be my obligation to pay for the repairs, but I don't own the building, and I didn't choose this garage.  Then the woman on the phone, who gets a large portion of my paycheck every month, began to shout at me and mock me for being an idiot and trapping my car. She spoke over me and yelled at me relentlessly. I reminded her that the lease I originally signed had incorrectly assigned a parking spot to me, and in the beginning weeks of living here I nearly got towed for parking in someone else's spot. After emailing her she clarified, that no, I didn't have a parking spot.  The lease was wrong. Instead, I had a garage that was barely big enough to fit my vehicle, which she kept trying to tell me was "more desirable".  I disagreed, as I found myself trapped; my wallet, my ID, my tools, my car, locked in a garage I did not want or choose.  And now I had to pay for reconstruction of this faulty door.

The argument apparently became too much for her, because she hung up on me.  No warning, just a click.  There was no resolution, was there someone coming to fix it or not? There isn't even a sticker or tag on the door to tell me who I would call to complain about the malfunction.  My thoughts turned dark, "I'm going to have to live here in this apartment forever. I can't get my wallet. I can't get my car. I'm going to have to break the door..Then I'll have to go to jail.."

Using my default adult response in dilemmas, I called my mom. Throat tight with anxiety and emotion from the morning, I greeted her with a simple statement, "I'm in a bit of a jam"  In the midst of my dramatic reenactment of the conversation, my phone buzzed. The landlady was calling me back.  With a perkiness that starkly contrasted her last tone with me, she explained that she contacted the owner of the apartment (apparently the realty company is just the middle man) who agreed that the financial responsibility was not mine, and that he would pay for the problem.  Someone would come set me free tomorrow, "if it's okay with you to wait that long."


This is why people buy homes instead of rent. This is why people don't move to unknown areas every 4 months.





Not wanting to leave you with the image of me trapped in my apartment, let me tell you a little about Monday, which was a much better day than today..

Mt Spalding is right next to Mt Evans, and is an short climb to the 13,842' peak.  With a late start in the day, this seemed like a great choice for an afternoon hike.

He thought so too..

Being part of a National Park, there were a lot of people climbing Spalding and Evans that afternoon.  I ended up hiking with three other guys, two of which we only hiked with for a little because they were hiking above 11,000' for the first time and took a lot of breaks.  The other was an older guy named Wade, a seasoned hiker who lives at nearly 9000'.

Most of what we talked about during the hike was other trips and mountains we've climbed.  Because this is a popular tourist trail, Wade (pictured above) would scoff at and mock everyone that passed us that he deemed "not prepared for climbing at such heights".  On our descent we passed a group of about 6 kids maybe 18-20 year olds, wearing tank tops and shorts. Nobody had a backpack, only half had water bottles, and they all looked exhausted.  Wade tried to talk them into descending because it was late in the afternoon and they didn't look ready for "the elements".  After they rejected his advice and we parted ways, he grumbled about those, "damn kids" and made guesses as to which one was going to get hurt. He suspected the girl would cry "before she even gets to Spalding". He also mocked her for carrying smart water.

While this is a short hike in comparison to others, the difficulty not only lies in the elevation, but also in the boulder scrambles, which are fun, but a common place for injury.

Mt Evans

Mt Beirstadt, a 14er. Looks easy to summit, but is known for causing the death of more than a couple hikers a year.  The problem is a section of boulder scrambling in something called "the saw tooth" right at the base of the summit. 

Gray's and Torreys in the distance.

Once we reached the summit we signed the mountain register. There was that brief moment when I wondered which city/state to claim as my home, and I chose Pittsburgh.  It was the first place I lived independently from my parents, and it was the launch site for my career as a traveler.  Besides, when you're half way across the country, Pittsburgh and Indiana don't have much distinction to someone who's never been there.
[ But if you need to know where my heart is, just look at the ink on my R foot :) ]

In the afternoon I drove down to Echo Lake to eat lunch, read, and enjoy peace by the lake. 

So tonight I will dream of mountains and vistas. In the morning, I'll wake up early and wait for my prince to come in the form of a garage door repair man, to set me free, not from a castle tower in a far away land, but a shoddy garage in a suburb of Denver.