In the summer of 2009 the Big Butt crew ventured out into the southern Rocky Mountains, intent on climbing Mt. Handies and rafting the class V Animas River. 

After starting late, missing the trailhead, confusing summits, cramped quads, running out of water and a whole lot of hiking, seven made it to the top of Handies Peak, and one got to try bull testicles. My favorite part of the hike, besides the hilarity that ensued from me and Josh's general lack of that word we call "shape," was the rich green contrast of the green valleys, with the harsh rocky tops of these mountain giants. Pike had to have been upset. Lewis and Clark also found out that the Rocky Mountains do not stop at one or even two layers. This thick mountain range, as seen from the top of a 14er, spans literally for miles, figuratively, an amazingly infinite distance. You almost feel as though you're on the top of the world. Together, we've climbed two now: Elbert and Handies. Cumulatively, we've probably got about fifteen or more under our belts.

Handies was definitely the hardest that I've climbed but only because of the route we took. I will always remember the ghostly pale face of our Matt Jack after re-summiting the 13er in order to make the trek back to the car and Aaron's diminutive orange figure, always impossibly far away from Josh and me. You'd think he wore that goddamn shirt on purpose. I look forward to more of these in the future, and it was a great start before the Animas.  

At the end of the Animas trip, as I myself felt the slightly warm PBR slide down my throat, I looked on as Aaron Christman struggled to keep the contents of his stomach under control. He was chugging beer from a neoprene boot that he had worn for an entire day in a river.

Go back about seven hours. One day of rest after reaching the summit of Handies was barely enough for us to wake up and get to the guide shack. We loaded up on vans and drove to the station in between Silverton and Durango where people come to board the narrow gauge train that would take us up to our starting point on the Animas River. The train, like something from a western movie, pumped black smoke out of it's single stack as we started our way through the canyons. Thin layers of coal dusted our tired, excited faces.

Setting up and putting in the river was exciting and a good way to get our blood pumping for the many trials ahead. We were running two "duckies" which were basically two long inflated tubes with a thin bottom. These were easy to flip over. Due to the low level of the water, we had to muscle through many parts, but once we were well on our way the river got narrower and the water level rose. My one experience on the "ducky" had me swimming almost instantaneously, the freezing waters rushing over my head, giving me only glimpses of our rescue kayaker yelling for me to make the shore. Aaron and Matt were the masters of the duckies.

It took all day, and a lengthy hike out, only to have to jog in order to avoid a train just to meet with the boot beers in the parking lot. The guides were awesome. I faintly remember Aaron dancing his face off that night with Dave's (our lead guide) girlfriend. Nice one midget.