Last month I commandeered the camp kitchen for a trail repair project undertaken jointly by Volunteers for Outdoors Colorado (VOC) and the Colorado 14ers Initiative. The heavily traveled trailhead leading to Gray’s and Torrey’s summits lies just south of Interstate 70 off the Bakerville exit, a few miles west of Silver Plume. This non-technical route was my first summit of a Colorado 14er during the summer of 1974. My still amusing recollection was the hand-lettered signboard atop Torrey’s advising, “Micturate on this side, they’ll drink it in California.” For 20 years, I made this hike at least once every summer, occasionally coaxing a foreign-exchange student along with my own kids with promises of stunning views ahead.

The dilapidated dormitory for miners in the swale beneath the peaks stood then but is now reduced to a pile of jumbled timbers. It was here I encountered two young women vomiting violently and questioning what might be causing their indigestion. My queries determined they had flown from New Orleans into Denver the night before. I counseled them to turn back since it was very likely they were experiencing altitude sickness, which would only grow worse and more serious if they pushed on. I suggested they try again after a week when they were better acclimated to the elevation. I’ve also advised out-of-state hikers to return downhill as dark thunderheads swiftly and unexpectedly move across the divide. It is not safe to be the tallest object on the side of a slope being struck by lightning and the reason experienced climbers depart before dawn to summit by noon.

I discovered VOC in 1992 while working as a volunteer with the Department of Wildlife’s effort to map the bat populations summering in abandoned mine tunnels along the Front Range. My first VOC project was near St. Elmo, west of Mount Princeton Hot Springs on Cottonwood Pass. We were planting willows, allegedly impervious to the orange metals draining onto a meadow beneath an abandoned mining tipple. I’ve always meant to revisit the site and see whether this actually worked. During my first decade, I worked as a grunt, wheelbarrowing “crusher fine” to pave hiking trails against heavy foot traffic. We also constructed viewing platforms for bird watchers in wildlife preserves, erected stream crossings for hikers and horses, and removed invasive plants – tamarisk in Western Slope riverbeds, as well as ox-eye daisies blooming at elevation.

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An unexpected benefit of working VOC projects is the opportunity to sleep under the stars at locations usually closed to public camping. I’ve hauled rocks beneath the Maroon Bells and installed steps to access Anasazi dwellings near Cortez. Eventually, I noticed projects had trouble recruiting kitchen help. Approaching retirement, I realized I had the time to undertake the menu planning, food purchasing and logistics management required. I’d been cook for my Boy Scout Troop, after all – an assignment which exempted me from cleaning pots and pans. VOC proved more challenging. The largest meal we ever served was for 375 volunteers preparing Cheyenne Mountain State Park for its public opening. A dozen kitchen helpers were needed.

Forty years ago, I would encounter 5 to 6 hikers on Gray’s and Torrey’s trails on a weekday – perhaps a few dozen on weekends. I’d heard about the recent pressure of foot traffic on Colorado’s 14ers. Helicopters had dropped 8-inch-by-8-inch-by-8-foot logs on the mountainside to be placed as diversion dams sluicing water off trails, which are severely eroding. Their installation was our weekend project. Climbers began arriving at the trailhead before 2:30 a.m. Saturday morning as they commenced their treks to the peaks. The access road is a fairly treacherous, rocky four-wheel drive, although a single Tesla managed the trip.

A major problem is there are only 30 to 40 parking spaces there. As I drove into town later that morning vehicles were parked on the uphill side of the road for more than a mile. Similar demand is occurring at Quandary Peak in Summit County. There are far too many hikers and far too little infrastructure. Neither local governments, nor the U. S. Forest Service are likely to find the dollars required to improve access. Great Outdoors Colorado (GOCO) lottery funds and dollars transferred directly to our state parks have purchased more than enough open space for now. Yet, it’s hard to turn bureaucracies in new directions. An internal sunset review may be in order.

Recreational access roads should be improved. Adequate parking spaces are needed. Additional toilets wouldn’t be a bad idea, either. Colorado may feel like a giant national park to our visitors, but it can’t function like one without significant additional public investment exceeding anything volunteers can offer. Not to say, I don’t admire the young 14ers staff who climb daily to worksites far above tree line. Nonetheless, more than muscle and backcountry enthusiasm are required. GOCO can and should fill that gap.

Miller Hudson is a public affairs consultant and a former Colorado legislator.