NEBRASKAland Magazine is dedicated to outstanding photography and informative writing with an engaging mix of articles and photos highlighting Nebraska’s outdoor activities, parklands, wildlife, history and people.
Issue link: http://mag.outdoornebraska.gov/i/725550
62 NEBRASKAland • OCTOBER 2016 Y ou can see it in the set of my jaw, the straining muscles of my well-toned arms, and by the determination in my sky-blue eyes: It's me against gravity and the unyielding verticality of one of Nebraska's alpine challenges. It's me or the mountain. Only one of us will be victorious, only one remain unconquered. Okay, okay – I couldn't find any photos of my mountain climbing days so Linda and I drove out to the Dannebrog dump and took this picture but it's sort of, kind of, a lot like, what I was in my prime, especially if Linda had used her "narrow-angle" lens like I told her to. You wouldn't know it by looking at me now but there really was a time I climbed mountains. I summitted (that's mountaineering talk) five of Colorado's "14ers," mountains over 14,000 feet in altitude. I climbed alone, which would usually be seen as pretty stupid but I did none of what is called "technical" climbing – ropes, pitons (spikes driven into rock or ice to hold ropes), crampons (spiked footgear for hard ice), sleeping in a hammock slung thousands of feet over open space. None of that. I walked up long paths above the tree line, gasping for air, and pushing my Plains physiology far beyond what it wanted to do. There was a lot of rock and ice, cold and snow, and I truly loved it. Or perhaps echoing Dorothy Parker's famous line about writing, "I hate writing. I love having written." The climbing was agony, but remembering it after the aches had worked off, maybe sitting at our fireplace with a snifter of good bourbon and telling my adventures where there was no one around to check the accuracy of my details, was glorious. And now, in my seniority, the memories of my climbs. As for Nebraska, my climbing conquests are a good deal more modest, consisting mostly of getting up on backless bar stools and increasingly getting up our own stairs to bed every night. But a couple nights ago I spent some time musing about memorable Nebraska climbs. There is the highest spot in Nebraska, Panorama Point in Kimball County, towering 5,429 feet above sea level (that's more than a mile, folks!), from the heights of which you can see, oh, a long ways. I've been there, and I'm a guy who's afraid of heights, so you can do it, too. I've scaled Happy Jack Hill, which really does have a glorious outlook over the North Loup River, not far from here, above the Chalk Mines at Scotia. (And which I think is the prominence that figures centrally in James Fenimore Cooper's The Prairie.) When I was much younger I frequently climbed Sioux Lookout southeast of North Platte and with a lovely view of the Platte Valley. There used to be a much vandalized statue at the summit, but even without that the view is worth the climb. When I was a geology student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln I climbed and spent a night on top of Scotts Bluff with some fellow students, a truly memorable experience, again with stunning views. Now there's a road to the top and any sissy can get easily to where we struggled with backpacks and camp gear. Still – worth the drive. Blackbird Hill overlooks the Missouri River not far from Macy on the Omaha Reservation but is sacred in Omaha tribal legend and belief and is not available to the public; a public overlook near the site, however, is available near Decatur. I was fortunate enough to be taken to the Hill on foot by an Omaha kinsman almost 50 years ago. I recommend these climbs … okay, hikes … to anyone who seriously calls himself or herself a Nebraskan, with the usual cautions that even the most gentle of these scarps can be slippery in rain, snow or ice, while some of the western hills still provide burrows for rattlesnakes, and if you have the kind of grace and conditioning I have, sooner or later you're almost certain to suffer a twisted ankle or aching back for your effort. But like a true storyteller, I've been saving the best of my mountain climbing tales for last. No kidding, I still have bad dreams about this one, am a bit embarrassed, but know Hillier Than Hillary, Tenser Than Tenzing: Nebraska Mountaineering By Roger Welsch Ol' Rog Finds Vertical Nebraska. PHOTO COURTESY OF THE AUTHOR The author mounts an assault on the Dannebrog Dump.