By Olivia Niosi
VOICES Radio Hour
“If you see the pirate-looking man with dazzling blue eyes, give him my number.” A bold text I sent to my hiking friends group chat after seeing the black-bearded, musty-smelling man out in the woods for the third time.
I saw him paddling down the river at North Star in a handmade wooden canoe.
I saw him while traversing an avalanche debris field following cairns up to Conundrum Hot Springs.
I saw him coming down from Electric Pass.
Who was he and was he also off on Tuesdays?
My friends and I had just almost summited Sopris and were walking down the final stretch drenched from the continuous downpour, shoes covered in mud, faces still white from running down from the lightning. We got our first view of the parking lot when I saw him coming up the trail. I spotted his dark black beard and small gnome-style felt hat immediately.
“I always know I’m going to see you in the mountains,” he said while passing. I felt the blood returning to my face as I blushed at another wild encounter with him.
“Olivia, that’s the pirate!!” My friends wouldn’t let me walk on. I’m a shy gal. Sending the group text was as far as I thought I’d get to actually connecting with the guy. I’d never really dated before and wasn’t sure how to platonically or romantically approach. But my friends insisted that I had to get his number. I ran after him but the mud just caused me to slip back. It felt like walking up a treadmill. Chasing after a man made me feel so out of myself.
“I knew I’d see you again,” he said as I caught my breath. Now I really felt the blood rush to my face. I told him we kept seeing each other in the mountains, maybe we should exchange numbers and plan a hike together sometime. He told me I had perfect timing because he had just bought a phone. He said he’d only use his phone on a peak with service because he was starting his annual walkabout. He was walking for his birthday, 31 days for 31 years. He told me to come to his birthday party on Aug. 15 and meet him at Moon Lake.
I moved my schedule around with a coworker and together we planned my mission to Moon Lake. A lake on a map with no trail. My friends and I spread the map out on a big table and compared nearby trails and possible entrances. I asked them if I was crazy to even consider going and they just kept hyping up the adventure.
I crossed roaring creeks. I followed faint game trails. I scared a herd of cows and jumped behind a tree so they wouldn’t stampede me. I made some wrong turns. I fell tripping over logs. I crossed over boulders the size of cars.
“Yo-de-lay-hee-hoo.” I look up and the pirate is yodeling down from Capitol, hop-skipping over rocks like it was easy. Who was this guy? What am I doing bushwhacking for hours to meet up with some dude and his friends I didn’t actually know at all. I felt hot with adrenaline.
Five of his friends from growing up and I fished, jumped in the lake, ate our backpacker meals by the campfire and shared adventure stories. Under the bright moon we sang happy birthday and I faked confidence as he and his friends smiled across the fire to me.
On the hike out, he asked me my next days off. “Meet me at Snowmass Lake.” And I did.
While we laid under the stars next to the lake, he said to me, “I got something for you while I was looking for mushrooms. I found this special rock. Feel its energy.” He put a black rock into the palm of my hand and wrapped my other hand around it. It strangely felt warm — not cold like I would’ve expected and it was surprisingly heavy for its small size. He then put his hands around mine and closed his eyes. I copied.
I wake up having slept a full eight hours holding the rock with him. This man is no pirate, he is a mountain wizard putting a spell on me! The spell lasted three months. He would ask my days off and tell me a new high alpine lake by which to find him. We would hike together in silence to see goats, elk and lions. We foraged, frolicked and feasted in the mountains.
The wizard and I found each other in the mountains on trails and off until winter came that year. He left me with a new sense of self, a deepened call to adventure and connection to the magic of the mountains.
Olivia Niosi grew up in Oregon and has called the Roaring Fork Valley home since 2019. She recently started her new challenge of working for Pitkin County with the Forest Service as the Maroon Bells Facilities and Operations Supervisor. She spends 365 days a year outside enjoying live music, camping, skiing, working towards her goal of hike-running every trail in the watershed, and e-bike commuting around town.