Altitude sickness was a very weird illness for me. It was extremely uncomfortable. At its worst, I felt as though I was skating the verge of a seriously bad situation. It may very well be that I was close to suffering something worse than what I ended up experiencing. But each time I felt it getting really awful, I'd stop to rest and drink some water. In addition, I'd generally also try to choke down some food. These things--rest, water, food--seemed to calm the symptoms and keep them at bay long enough for me to continue onward and upward.
I'm surprised I was able to keep pushing on in a few situations. It was almost always heading toward a high pass or trying to push over a particularly steep ridge when I'd suffer the most. Only at the very end of the trip was I finally accustomed to the altitude.
Some of the following photographs were taken by me in a generally ill and sometimes addled state.
|This is a terminal moraine that we encountered on the way to Chasm Lake on the highest peak in Rocky Mountain National Park. I was starting to feel a bit crappy at around this point, which was in fact not a lot above tree line.|
|Chasm Lake. It was very cold up there and very cloudy. Sleet rained down on me and the wind made me feel very cold. All I could do was lie in the rocks and take photos from a reclining position. I felt like Hell.|
|This was taken on a mountainside trail below treeline. I didn't feel too bad at this spot, in the Weminuche Wilderness.|
Where I began to learn about altitude sickness. On Long's Peak on the Chasm Lake Trail.