Former CU decathlete Eddie Taylor (BioChem, Math’12) admits he never expected to stand on the summit of Mount Everest — especially as part of the first all-Black team to attempt the expedition. 

Organized by veteran alpinist Phil Henderson of Cortez, Colorado, Taylor summited the tallest mountain on Earth in May 2022 alongside seven other athletes and 12 Sherpa guides on a team called the . Under the mentorship of Henderson, the team’s accomplishment nearly doubled the number of Black climbers to summit Everest. Previously, less than 10 Black climbers had reached the summit out of thousands of others. 

As someone who didn’t have climbing mentors he could relate to, Henderson — the first Black American instructor at NOLS [National Outdoor Leadership School] — said of the feat: “It came full circle.”

Invitation to Everest 

Taylor grew up in the Midwest, where he enjoyed running track while getting his mountain fix on family trips to northern New Mexico and various national parks. When it came time to choose a university, the appeal of the well-known track and field team, innovative community and beautiful Colorado weather was a no-brainer: CU Boulder was the perfect fit. Taylor double-majored in math and biochemistry, all while . 

“The Buffs are a legendary sports team,” Taylor said. “I was a walk-on, and the opportunity was amazing.” 

Taylor’s experience reinforced what it meant to train hard and find success in chosen objectives. After graduating from CU, a friend invited Taylor to go rock climbing, and a light switched: “I went all in,” he said. Taylor became a strong, competent climber and mountaineer, and where he once had track goals, he was now setting goals in the mountains.

In early 2021, Taylor met Henderson at a dog park in Ouray, Colorado, when both were in town to ice climb. The two sparked a conversation and saw each other around the town’s infamous ice climbing park. Henderson took notice of Taylor’s impressive climbing ability and mountain sense. When Henderson began finalizing his Full Circle team in 2021, he invited Taylor to join. 

Spearheaded by Henderson, Taylor and the rest of the team — Moanoah Ainuu, Fred Campbell, Abby Dione, KG Kagambi, Thomas Moore, Dom Mullins and Rosemary Saal — raised over $800,000 for the expedition as they began their training. 

To train, Taylor stayed true to his weekly routine: climbing outside three to four days a week, coaching track at Centaurus High School in Lafayette, Colorado, and getting out to Rocky Mountain National Park to climb or ski on the weekends. 

The Summit 

The team traveled to Nepal in March 2022, embarking on a 70-day expedition up the southwest ridge of Everest. After hiking 25 miles to Everest’s base camp (17,400 feet), Taylor and the Full Circle team spent a few days acclimating and preparing for the ascent. Henderson, who did not attempt the summit, remained at base camp. 

From base camp, the team spent many rotations successively climbing higher to acclimatize to high altitude, eventually making it to Camp 3 at more than 22,000 feet. On May 12, the team staggered hiking times and pushed for the summit at their own pace. 

Where he once had track goals, he was now setting goals in the mountains.

During a good weather window, Taylor stumbled out of his tent around 9 p.m., wearing an oxygen mask, down suit and pack. He saw a line of headlamps heading up the mountain and “put one foot in front of the other and started plodding toward the trail,” he said. 

“Soon enough, I caught up to the traffic,” he said. “I was cold, so I did what I knew how to do best; I unclipped and started passing folks.” 

At midnight, Taylor and Pasang Ngima Sherpa were among the first at a resting place known as the Balcony. At 2:40 a.m. Taylor and Pasang stepped onto the highest point on Earth. The summit of Everest was dark, short and sweet. Taylor snapped a blurry photo and quickly turned back to begin a safe descent and eat a hot meal. 

“The summit didn’t mean that much to me, but what the expedition means is very important,” said Taylor. 

The seven other Full Circle team members also summited on May 12, officially reshaping the future of mountaineering. The team’s accomplishment was featured in USA Today, Outside magazine, National Geographic, CNN and more. 

“Our goal here is to help folks aspire to have a profound and respectful relationship with the outdoors and feel not entitled to it, but welcome to it. If you see it can be done, you can do it right,” said Full Circle team member, Abby Dione, . 

Bringing It Full Circle

As it did for Henderson, the experience has come full circle for Taylor. 

Just as Taylor prepared for Everest is how he returns from Everest — continuing his daily routine. Taylor continues teaching at Centaurus and coaching track after school. He travels to the mountains in his free time and plans to climb in Yosemite National Park next season. 

“I just love giving back, taking my knowledge and giving it to the kids in the up-and-coming community,” Taylor said.  

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Photo by Amrit Ale

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by Mindy Sink (Jour'92) and Kim Lipker
(Menasha Ridge Press, 288 pages; 2020)

The best way to experience Denver and Boulder is by hiking. Get outdoors with local authors and hiking experts Mindy Sink and Kim Lipker with the full-color edition of 60 Hikes Within 60 Miles: Denver and Boulder. A perfect blend of popular trails and hidden gems, the selected trails transport you to scenic overlooks, wildlife hot spots and historical settings that renew your spirit and recharge your body.

Explore the highlights of some of Colorado’s newest trails ― such as a waterfall in Staunton State Park, Clear Creek as it tumbles alongside the Peaks to Plains Trail toward Golden, or a historical ranch at Rocky Flats National Wildlife Refuge. Or enjoy classic favorites along the Front Range, such as ascending Mount Bierstadt, one of Colorado's iconic 14ers; taking in the views of Horsetooth Reservoir just outside Fort Collins; and seeing Boulder’s flatirons up close from Chautauqua Park. With these Colorado authors as your guides, you’ll learn about the area and experience nature through 60 of the region’s best hikes!

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You don't need this year's solstice — Saturday, June 20 — to tell that summer has arrived in Boulder. With flowers blooming, the average temperature has been a warm 89 degrees over the past two weeks.

Restaurants on The Hill and Pearl Street have utilized the nice weather to open into expanded outdoor seating in parking lots and closed-off streets. And while summer classes are fully remote this year, campus is still as beautiful as ever with its welcoming greenery, calming open spaces and full trees. Walk over the bridge at Varsity Lake and you’ll even spot some sun-bathing turtles.

Photo by Glenn Asakawa

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10 Great Hiking Trails Near Campus

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   Photo courtesy of University of Colorado

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At age 36, Trevor Thomas lost his sight. Then he became a professional hiker.

When Trevor Thomas (Econ’93) reaches a mountain summit, he concentrates on the peak, not the view. He runs his hand along the rocks to feel whether they’re mossy or wet or cold. He focuses on the sun warming his face and the aspect of the air. Sometimes it’s humid, sometimes crisp.

On his long, calculated descents, the details from the top settle deep into his memory, uniquely his own.

“We’re a visual world — for me it’s more robust,” says Thomas, the only known blind professional long-distance hiker in the world.

“[Being blind] provides me a very rich, deep experience that I think a lot of people miss.”

Thomas, 46, lost his sight to an autoimmune disease a decade ago. Since then he’s accomplished extraordinary feats in the outdoors, starting in 2008, when he became the first blind person to complete the 2,170-mile Appalachian Trail solo. He’s hiked 18,000 additional miles since, including treks along the entire Pacific Crest Trail — from Mexico to Canada — and California’s John Muir and Tahoe Rim Trails.

Thomas was the first blind man to stand atop Mount Whitney, the tallest mountain in the contiguous U.S., also in California, and this summer he completed the nearly 500-mile Colorado Trail with only his guide dog, Tennille, by his side.

Trevor Thomas and guide dog Tennille hiked the entire 486-mile Colorado Trail in summer 2015.

Hiking has given Thomas, a law school graduate who previously worked as an events promoter, a new life and a simple purpose: To prove he can.

Thomas chased adventure long before he went blind. As a CU-Boulder student, he was an avid skier. Vail was his favorite mountain. He enjoyed skydiving, mountain biking and racing Porsches. Anything for a rush.

In 2006 Thomas was 36, fresh out of UNLV law school and planning to travel abroad while studying for the bar exam. He’d been having trouble with his vision and went to a doctor in his parents’ hometown, Charlotte, N.C., for glasses. Instead he left with a grim and rare diagnosis — his autoimmune system was destroying his eyes. There was no stopping it.

Thomas moved in with his parents and experienced what he calls “eight months of living hell.”

“That was the most excruciating experience, not physically painful, but psychologically,” he says. “I knew what I was going to have to do. I would have to learn to read again and write again. The most devastating thing for me was not knowing how I would be able to exist and make a living as a blind person.”

His sight gone within the year, he battled depression and desperation. A few days after going totally blind, a friend took him to a talk in Charlotte by Erik Weihenmayer, the first blind man to summit Mount Everest [with CU’s Jeff Evans (Anth’94) as his guide].

“I owe a lot to Erik,” Thomas says. “When he was speaking, I realized we were really similar. He gave me the strength that I needed to have.”

Thomas decided to give hiking a try. On his first attempt his cane got caught on rocks and in roots. Frustrated, he went to an outfitters store where a young clerk equipped him with trekking poles and shared his own experience hiking the Appalachian Trail, replete with run-ins with bears and wild storms.

“That got my attention,” Thomas says. “I thought, ‘If I can just do that trail, that will be the thing that gives me my life back.'”

During the 18 months it took Thomas to learn to function as a blind man in everyday life, the Appalachians never left his thoughts. He believed the only way to regain his sense of independence would be to hike the trail alone. He learned each piece of hiking gear expertly, from pitching his tent to using a cookstove.

“Much to everyone’s amazement,” Thomas says, “I followed through.”

In 2008, he walked the entire Appalachian Trail by himself. It took six months and it was grueling. He counted more than 3,000 falls and injured his ribs and feet. He read signs with his fingers at each trail intersection, but sometimes lost the trail while crossing barren rock. Whenever he was uncertain of his surroundings, he would stop and wait for another hiker to confirm his location.

“I made an average of 30,000 steps a day and I knew each one could be my last,” he says.

His fear on the trail became his motivation to adopt hiking professionally. With a new trail name, “Zero/Zero” — a reference to his sight — and a multitude of corporate sponsors, he hiked the Pacific Crest Trail in five-and-a-half continuous months in 2010. He perfected his use of echolocation, using sounds to assess his environment, like a bat. He fell only 78 times.

“I [hike] to embrace fear and see what is humanly possible for a blind person,” he says.

The Colorado Trail, which runs from Durango to Denver, was a turning point in his career. Thomas tried it in 2011 but was unable to finish: With 79,000 vertical feet of climbing at an average elevation above 10,000 feet, the trail is physically demanding and the weather completely unpredictable.

“It was the first long trail that I didn’t succeed on,” he says. “I vowed and declared that I would do that trail on my own.”

Foregoing a human guide, Thomas adopted a black lab from Guide Dogs for the Blind. The dog, Tennille, was trained to work in town and in the backcountry and she became Thomas’ main asset, alerting him to unforeseeable obstacles such as low-hanging tree branches or snow mounds.

“I’m the big picture guy, she’s my detail girl,” he says.

Now five years old, Tennille is Thomas’ constant companion.

“Trevor has a plan with Tennille and they don’t vary,” says Laine Walter, a friend who helps Thomas plan his treks. “Most people treat their guide dogs like an instrument to them. He treats his guide dog like his best friend.”

To help prepare Thomas for the Colorado Trail, Walter scoured guidebooks and typed meticulous notes for his iPhone, which talked to him along the way, alerting him to distances, nearby campgrounds and water sources.

Sponsors — Cliff Bar, Ahnu Footwear, Marmot and Diamond Pets among them — provided Thomas and Tennille with much of their food and supplies at trailheads.

“I’m like any other athlete,” says Thomas, who is fully sponsored. “If I need a new sponsor, I have to justify my existence. Luckily, it’s not really hard for me to get sponsors. We are unique.”

The 486.4-mile Colorado Trail presented plenty of harrowing situations. The most frightening of them happened as the pair was entering the San Juan Mountains along the Continental Divide. As they reached tree line and scrambled over a false summit, the wind turned and a rapid storm rolled through, bringing in lightning “like hand grenades,” hail and howling wind. Thomas and Tennille were completely exposed and trapped in a saddle.

“The weather came in like a meteor,” he says.

Thomas quickly pulled himself and Tennille under his tent’s rain fly and huddled low to the ground: “It was the scariest 45 minutes of my life.”

When the storm subsided, the pair resumed their ascent. Sunshine met them as they crested the divide.

Thomas knows the risks he takes. But risk is what he lives for.

“In a sense, going blind was a blessing,” he says. “It gave me new life, a totally new career and a new path.”

Photography courtesy Trevor Thomas

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John Branch (Mktg’89, MJour’96) wins the Pulitzer Prize for his captivating and tragic story about an avalanche that swept over a group of expert skiers in Washington’s backcountry.

On a gray February morning in 2012, 16 expert skiers and snowboarders gathered just outside the boundary of Stevens Pass ski area in the Washington Cascades and looked down on 3,000 vertical feet of champagne powder.

A storm had just passed, dumping 32 inches atop a fragile crust. The avalanche danger was “considerable-to-high.” Many in the group were privately questioning the wisdom of entering the steep, tree-framed meadow with so many people. One-by-one around 11:50 a.m., they dropped in nonetheless, giggling and whooping as they carved through knee-deep snow.

By 12:40 three would be confirmed dead, and the rest would be forever changed.

What happened? To answer that question, The New York Times sports feature writer John Branch (Mktg’89, MJour’96) conducted more than 40 interviews, schooled himself in avalanche physics and scoured text messages, 911 tapes and helmet-cam clips for four months. He then produced a gripping 17,000-word story, “Snow Fall: The Avalanche at Tunnel Creek,” that earned him the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for feature writing and broke new journalistic ground in the process.

“It was a huge collaborative effort,” said Branch, after the Pulitzer announcement. “I think this shows that long-form journalism is not dead at the newspaper level and that there is value in taking risks and being open to new possibilities.”

Written with a novelist’s attention to craft and wrapped in a package of video, audio and graphics that seamlessly unfold on the screen as their subjects are referenced in the text, “Snow Fall” has been lauded as “the future of web storytelling.” Believed to be the longest story in the Times’ history, it received a record 3.5 million page views and 1,155 comments in the first week after it published online in December. Tens of thousands have shared it since, praising it as not only a cautionary tale about a deadly avalanche but also a harsh lesson on the hazards of group-thinking, peer pressure and failing to listen to one’s instinct.

But Branch says he is most proud of the feedback he has received from backcountry enthusiasts themselves. Many believe his story could save lives.

“He hit the key points of what went wrong without pointing fingers,” says Ryan Guess, an avalanche beacon specialist for Black Diamond Equipment. “I know seven people who passed in avalanches last year. It is what every one of those people would have wanted to see in print.”

Growing up in Golden, Colo., Branch, 45, always had visions of being a sports reporter. But when it came time to choose a major, “I followed my head, not my heart,” he says. He graduated with a marketing degree in 1989 and worked in managerial positions at Costco before returning to CU to get a master’s degree in journalism in ’96. Upon graduation, he envisioned a low-paying newspaper job “working in some farm town in Iowa.”

“I got lucky,” says Branch, a humble and self-deprecating father of two.

He landed a job at the Colorado Springs Gazette Telegraph and then as a sports columnist for the Fresno Bee. In 2005, he was invited to apply for a job covering the New York Giants for the Times.

“I said, ‘Thanks but no thanks,’ ” recalls Branch, who preferred working as a columnist. “I got off the phone and my wife said, ‘Are you out of your mind?’ I called them back.”

While Branch envisioned the Times to be a pressure cooker, he found just the opposite.

“T���&�Բ�����;Times is the most sane place I have ever worked,” he says. “They have seen it all before, so no one ever panics.”

As newspapers around the country were scaling back, his employer largely insulated its newsroom from economic woes, he says, providing reporters with the resources needed to explore the human stories behind the headlines. As a feature writer since 2008, he has gone from writing about 200 stories per year to less than 50, including a five-part series about a girls basketball team at a Tennessee youth correctional facility and a 15,000-word Pulitzer-nominated exposé on hockey violence.

It has been a dream job.

“We as journalists have backstage passes to places we would not otherwise go — whether that is the Super Bowl or someone’s kitchen,” he says. “Our job is to learn about new things. It’s a lot of fun.”

The Times had covered the Tunnel Creek avalanche briefly on Feb. 21, 2012. Three months later, Branch’s editor came to him with an idea.

“He told me, ‘That avalanche story has been gnawing at me. I really think there is something more there,’ ” Branch recalls.

As Branch notes, it was once unusual to have more than 10 avalanche deaths per winter in the United States. But backcountry enthusiasts have become emboldened by better equipment and backcountry access gates in ski area boundaries. There were 34 avalanche deaths in the 2011-12 season and 24 in 2012-13.

“People are dying, and more and more people are at risk,” says Branch, himself a skier. “If 16 people with this kind of experience can get in this kind of trouble, you and I can.”

Instead of panning wide to tell a cautionary tale, he zoomed in tight, producing a meticulous and heart-wrenching human story with a notable lack of blame-placing.

“I didn’t want to write a Monday morning quarterbacking story,” he says. “I wanted it to be a straight and narrow piece keeping opinion out of it — a tick tock narrative account of this day.”

He started with e-mails to two survivors — John Stifter, an editor at Powder Magazine, and Megan Michelson, freeskiing editor at ESPN.com. Both got back to him within an hour. Within a few weeks, he had determined that 16 people had started down that day (a number that — due to a hasty start and no head count — no one in the group had been certain of). In the coming months, via countless plane rides and emotional front porch talks, he would hear the stories from all of the13 survivors, and from the loved ones of the three killed.

At one point, while walking the path of the avalanche accompanied by survivor Tim Carlson, he discovered the ski of avalanche victim Johnny Brenan sticking out of the melting snow.

“That really struck home for me,” Branch recalls.

He also spent hours viewing footage from survivors’ helmet cams — first showing them frolicking in the winter playground before then capturing a wall of white coming toward them, swallowing their companions. One heart-wrenching clip in the multimedia presentation shows Carlson coming upon the ski pole of a buried friend moments after the slide.

One of the hardest moments came when he had to interview Brenan’s wife, Laurie, on camera.

“She is close to my age, and they have daughters the same age as my children,” he says. “It was hard not to look at her and wonder, ‘Would this be my wife if it had happened to me?’ ”

Many readers say it was the bold multi-media components that drew them in.

At the story’s opening, a 3D digital flyover orients the reader to where the slide was. Doppler radar images of the storm and an eerie real-time re-creation of the avalanche illustrate the sheer power of snow. Family photo albums and videos add depth to the characters. But unlike standard multimedia presentations — where readers must click away from the text to view “extras” — the elements are positioned to enhance not distract — to inform not overwhelm.

“We wanted to make it so that the multimedia was part of one narrative flow where you are reading along and the graphic or video comes up at a time when it makes sense and you just continue reading on,” explains Times multimedia designer Jaqueline Myint, who coordinated a team of videographers, graphic designers and photographers over three months.

Branch takes no credit for the multimedia. But he believes its value for enhancing journalism in the future cannot be overstated.

“It can help readers engage in the story and bring people to life in a way that black-and-white words just can’t,” he says.

After being awarded the Pulitzer — on the same day as the tragic Boston Marathon bombings — he is already looking for his next big project.

“As journalists, we should not spend a whole lot of time back-patting,” he says. “There is always more work to be done.”

Lisa Marshall (Jour, PolSci’94) is a freelance writer based outside Estes Park, Colo. She lost friend David Laurienti this winter in an avalanche while he was descending the north slope of 13,514-foot Ypsilon Mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park.

Photos courtesy of Ruth Frenson/New York Times, Shane Wilder/Icicle TV, Jeremy White/New York Times

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How did Jeff Evans pair up with blind climber Erik Weihenmayer to become two of the worlds most accomplished mountaineers?

Had Jeff Evans (Anth’94) and a friend not found themselves in a hairy situation atop Lizard Head, arguably the single most difficult peak to climb in Colorado, he might not be known as one of the worlds top climbing guides today.

^{Alumni award winner spotlight: Michael Brown}

^{When he first came to CU-Boulder, documentary filmmaker Michael Brown (Geog’90) had his eyes firmly fixed on the stars.}

^{“Initially I was studying physics,” says Brown, founder of Emmy Award-winning, Boulder-based Serac Adventure Films. “I wanted to be a spaceman and explore the universe.”}

^{But in part thanks to influential geography professor Gary Gaile, he realized there was more than enough wonder for a lifetime on Earth. Brown says Gaile, who died in 2009, perfectly summed up the kind of life he wanted to live.}

^{“He said adventure is something that really sucks while you are doing it, but you look back on fondly,” says Brown, 46, creator of the highly regarded 2003 documentary, Farther Than the Eye Can See, about Golden-based blind climber Erik Weihenmayers ascent of Mount Everest with guide Jeff Evans (Anth94).}

^{Brown has summited Everest five times and made dozens of films on location from the highest peaks in South America to Antarctica. Hes also a teacher and founder of the Outside Adventure Film School in Boulder.Outside magazine, which sponsors the school, has called him a “swashbuckling librarian.”}

^{On Nov. 1, Brown is being honored with the CU-Boulder Alumni Associations prestigious George Norlin Award, which “recognizes outstanding alumni who have demonstrated a commitment to excellence in their chosen field of endeavor and a devotion to the betterment of society and their community.”}

^{“I just love the giant reality checks that come in the mountains, he says. If you get it wrong, if you dont know where you are, you could fail or even die.”}

The pair was clinging to a vertical wall of notoriously rotten rock in the San Juan Mountains as a storm raged around them. They were trying to decide who should make the next move and realized they were in extreme danger.

The friend lost his cool, says Evans, 42.

“I kind of slapped him in the face and said, Listen, man, this may not end well, but we’re at least going down shooting.”

So Evans took the initiative, and eventually they descended safely. Upon regaining his composure, the friend eyed Evans with new respect because of Evans’ calm confidence.

“When we got down he said, ‘You’ve got to meet this blind climber I know,'” Evans says, smiling. “I was thinking, ‘What kind of idiot would go climbing with a blind dude?'”

But just a few weeks later, Evans headed out to California’s Joshua Tree National Park where he hit it off immediately with the “blind dude,” Erik Weihenmayer.

Eighteen years later, the two men have climbed Mount Everest twice, Denali, Argentina’s Aconcagua and El Capitan together. They’ve been featured in documentaries, led blind Tibetan youth and injured soldiers up Everest and, in summer 2011, starred in Expedition Impossible!, an ABC adventure show pitting teams against one another in a race across the blazing deserts and razor-sharp mountains of Morocco.

And Evans crisscrosses the country as a much-in-demand inspirational speaker.

All this from a self-described “liberal, redneck, hippie, climber dirtbag guy.”

“Jeff feeds off taking care of other people,” says Weihenmayer who became the first blind climber to summit Mount Everest in 2001 with Evans as his guide. “When it hits the fan, he’s just there, on top of it, crushing himself to help others.”

Others feel the same way.

“As much as Jeff is an adventurer and extreme sports addict and has great passion about music”— Evans is a devotee of the jam band Widespread Panic  — “what sets him apart is he is truly like a spiritual warrior,” says his longtime friend Joe Chisholm, 42, of Boulder.

By his own description, Evans took a few early stumbles in life.

Born in a small town in North Carolina to a 17-year-old single mother, all he ever heard about his father were rumors. Raised by his stepfather, “a good man,” Evan’s nevertheless failed at his first attempt at college. With nothing to lose, he lit out for Boulder with a buddy in 1988 where he immediately took to rock climbing.

“I was lucky to have $20 in my pocket,” Evans says. “But as I started to develop [as a climber], I realized I could guide here and there and make a little money.”

He began taking clients up some of Colorados famous 14,000-foot peaks and climbing hot spots along the Front Range. After a few years, he was ready to try college again.

“I would have applied to CU a million times to get in,” he says.

He graduated in three and a half years with a degree in anthropology.

But meeting Weihenmayer proved to be the real turning point in his life.

“We just really hit it off,” says Weihenmayer, 43, a teacher in Golden, Colo. “But we were very different. I’m kind of strait-laced. He’s kind of on the wild side. We really complement each other.”

The pair began conjuring up adventure after adventure. Together, they summited Denali in 1995, Yosemite’s El Capitan in 1996 and Argentina’s Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the Americas, in 1997. Their 2001 Everest climb is the subject of Michael Brown’s (Geog’90) award-winning documentary, Farther Than the Eye Can See.

In 2004 they took a group of blind Tibetan teens to the slopes of Everest. In 2010 they guided 11 wounded veterans to the top of the world in the “Soldiers to the Summit” project, filmed by Brown’s Boulder-based Serac Adventure Films.

Last summer the two men, along with wounded veteran Aaron “Ike” Isaacson of Kansas, came in second place in the gruelingExpedition Impossible!

Evans, who doesn’t watch much television, was reluctant to do the show, assuming it was yet another manufactured, unreal “reality” program.

“I originally said no,” he says. “I don’t like what television represents.”

But he was persuaded to sign on, assured that the contest was real.

Real may be an understatement. The ordeal sent the team — dubbed “No Limits” — across the scorching plains and mountains of Morocco. Weihenmayer maintained physical contact with his guide through most of the race. Evans says the experience taught all three men about comradeship and connection.

“I remember one cliff jump we did that was so powerful,” Evans says. “As far as we knew, there were no cameras on us and we forgot we were miked up. We were just doing what we do together. We held hands and went down together.”

And to Evans’ surprise, the show taught him there is an upside to television. He and his teammates heard from many people inspired by their feat and the way they overcame obstacles and limitations.

“We got countless e-mails, Facebook [messages] and tweets from people and their kids who found a source of inspiration,” Evans says. “Kids thought this was really cool, watching us push through pain for our teammates.”

After the show, Evans wanted to delve deeper and explore spirituality. Enter Joseph Campbell, the famous mythologist and writer who described the “monomyth” or “hero’s journey” that can be found in virtually every human culture.

Last summer Evans pitched an idea to Survivor creator Mark Burnett that would be based on Campbells ideas and bring together people who had faced adversity — such as a cancer survivor or wounded veteran — for a challenging adventure.

“Everyone has a hero’s journey, and its a matter of whether you answer the call to action,” he says.

It got turned down by the studio. But Evans seems unlikely to back off his own pursuit of adventure — and awakening.

“I’m on my own uncompleted journey,” says the father of one son. “When do we complete it? I’m not sure we do until we die. I just know that I’m not done.”

Clay Evans is pleased to have climbed three of Colorados 14,000-foot peaks last summer. He lives in Niwot, Colo., with 10 pets and his wife Jody.

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On April 1, 1919, 20 intrepid women, along with 15 men, signed on as charter members of the U of C Hiking Club. Females were required to submit a letter from the physical education department attesting to their ability to do hikes.

On April 1, 1919, 20 intrepid women, along with 15 men, signed on as charter members of the U of C Hiking Club. Females were required to submit a letter from the physical education department attesting to their ability to do hikes.

Since the first hike to Chautauqua’s Royal Arch, the club has flourished and is CU’s longest-running student organization. Initially, students did two audition hikes in order to qualify for membership, Sunday hikes were discouraged and chaperones accompanied all trips. While membership requirements have eased, today’s club still enjoys a camaraderie fostered by the outdoors.

See photos of the CU Hiking Club’s recent explorations of the natural beauty surrounding the university at . To learn more about CU’s history, visit the Heritage Center on the third floor of Old Main or go to .

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