The entry gate stands at 8,150 feet above sea level. The top rises to 14,240. The road between is only fifteen miles. That is quite a grade, with a few switchbacks. It is probably the scariest driving I have ever done. The road is quite narrow. There are no shoulders or guardrails. If you click on the picture below, you will see the oncoming car. I took my half out of the middle until we met a car. If it was a suburban, I just stopped as far over as I dared. The craziest thing was that the place was crawling with bikers--both kinds. The pedalers were truly crawling and gasping by the time they reached the summit.
The views are incredible.
At one time, there was a house on top of Mt. Evans.
This is what was left after the propane tank exploded.
It is real, this altitude sickness. We did not stay all that long at the summit. Floridians are used to much more air and water in our air. And besides the afternoon thunderstorms were starting to roll in.
But what an experience! Everyone (but the truly acrophobic) should do this at least once.
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