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Our final resting places speak volumes about us. My dad chose a hike
Our final resting places speak volumes about us. My dad chose a hike

Yahoo

time6 days ago

  • General
  • Yahoo

Our final resting places speak volumes about us. My dad chose a hike

I'm not quite sure when my father first said he wanted us to spread his ashes from the summit of Capitol Peak. But it probably happened soon after my mother survived breast cancer ― and promptly left him. This might sound cruel, but from my vantage point, my parents' marriage had never brought either of them much happiness. And in the years after their divorce, following some predictable speed bumps that came with the dissolution of a union of almost 40 years, both Mom and Dad seemed more alive than I'd ever known them. It was during this time that my brother, my sister and I climbed Capitol Peak with my father, Michael Cohen. Dad was 70 at the time, and he wanted us to see firsthand the site of his proudest accomplishment: the first ascent of the north face of a 14,000-foot mountain outside of Aspen. The climb proved grueling and perilous. At our campsite on the evening we returned from the top, Dad looked out at the mountain, its massive profile silhouetted against the moonlit sky. 'You guys don't have to scatter my ashes from the summit,' he said. He pointed to the base of the peak, which rose from Capitol Lake. 'You can just do it from down there.' That was 25 years ago. Dad lived another 24, passing away last summer. After Jonathan, Alison and I sold his house and settled his estate, there remained one chapter to write. Earlier this month, the three of us, along with my wife, made the 14-mile hike to honor Dad's final wish. Like the man himself, the experience was not without its challenges: 2,000-plus feet of elevation gain, at an altitude that started at almost two miles and rose from there, and in bodies now a quarter century older and more worn out than the last time we'd hiked these trails. Still, it brought Dad back in ways we wouldn't have imagined. As Ali bore my father's ashes ― 'In the standard funeral, the adult children carry the parent's coffin,' she said. 'This hike was Dad's equivalent in the bottom of a backpack' ― we traded memories of the person he was. Perhaps it was because we'd waited a bit since his death. And also because we were in the realm where he was most alive ― vital, strong, happy ― our stories and recollections veered away from his last years, when he receded into himself. Instead, we hiked across alpine meadows and up fields of talus alongside thoughts and stories about 'peak' Dad, the one who wanted so badly for us to share in his love for the mountains, for the wild, remote, almost otherworldly places that only an intrepid few ever taste. When we reached Capitol Lake, we ate our lunches beneath the lip of a boulder, the only shade available. Then we stood in a half-moon, looking out at the route Dad had first scaled six decades earlier, and said our goodbyes. I do not believe a person's remains are any more a part of who they were than a favorite T-shirt or a lucky pair of socks. Less so, really. Still, the resting places we choose for the remnants of our bodies speak volumes about us. Opinion: Falls are a real risk for seniors. Help your loved one prevent such mishaps Dad had picked a site where in life he'd found joy, where he'd triumphed. Was there also a bit of self-celebration? Sure. But, I realized, there was more. With this, his last expedition, my father had brought our family together. In a deep, meaningful way. He'd given us a lovely, meditative day in a place whose beauty was almost overwhelming. It would be something we'll always treasure. Even in death, Dad had enriched our lives. When a light wind kicked up, my brother, my sister and I poured what was left of my father out over a rocky outcropping that overlooked Capitol Lake. From there, I imagined, he could have gazed out over the ice-blue water to the sheer face he'd scaled so many years ago. I thought of Pop, sitting there, taking stock of all he'd done. Wearing the floppy, white hat he donned when he hiked. Munching on a peach. Smiling. Adam Cohen is the senior vice president and general counsel of the Oklahoma Medical Research Foundation. This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: My dad died. Here's how our family honored him and our grief | Opinion Solve the daily Crossword

Hikers from North Carolina rescued after becoming stuck in Colorado High Country
Hikers from North Carolina rescued after becoming stuck in Colorado High Country

CBS News

time25-06-2025

  • Climate
  • CBS News

Hikers from North Carolina rescued after becoming stuck in Colorado High Country

Two nineteen-year-olds from North Carolina had to be rescued when they became stuck while hiking in Colorado's High Country. According to the Pitkin County Sheriff's Office, one of the hikers called 911 around 8:20 p.m. Tuesday after the pair became stuck at around 13,000 feet while looking for a shorter route down the north face of Capitol Peak. Fortunately, neither of the hikers was injured. Emergency personnel advised the hikers to stay put while they worked to develop a rescue plan. At 6 a.m. the next morning, a Colorado National Guard Blackhawk helicopter picked up two hoist-rescue technicians from Mountain Rescue Aspen at Sardy Field and flew them toward Capitol Peak. Authorities said a brief snow shower and lightning only delayed the search by a few minutes. Capitol Peak can be seen in the distance from the Upper Capitol Creek Trail on September 6, 2017, near the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness, Colorado. Helen H. Richardson/The Denver Post via Getty Images Although the hikers were in black and gray clothing, the Blackhawk crew managed to spot them. They hoisted the hikers up one at a time and returned to Sardy Field, where they were medically evaluated and then released. Capitol Peak is considered a difficult mountain to climb with numerous exposures and loose, crumbling rock, said the Sheriff's Office. The mountain lies around 14 miles west of Aspen in the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness area. The mountain is no stranger to tragedy. In 2022, a hiker fell 900 feet to her death near the summit. Several search and rescue team members were injured in 2021 when they were caught in a rockslide while looking for a missing hiker. Five climbers died on Capitol Peak in 2017. "Mountain Rescue Aspen and the Pitkin County Sheriff's Office want to remind the public to be prepared when attempting to climb Capitol Peak. Capitol Peak is not a "walk-up" peak; it is a technical climb," warned the sheriff's office. "Climbers need to carry proper gear, which includes food, water, a helmet, a communication device, and bright-colored, warm clothing. Climbers should be prepared for changing weather conditions. There is not an alternate route down the north face of Capitol Peak. If there was a safe shortcut, it would be the standard route."

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