As we were cresting the Music Pass trail last week, my hiking mentor Scott Smith shared an interesting tidbit about the area that lies  just south of Westcliffe, in the Sangre De Cristo mountains. It served as the backdrop of a scene in the 1981 film “Continental Divide.” Actress Blair Brown, playing an eagle researcher, tells her costar John Belushi, playing a Chicago newspaper man “This (Music Pass) is my cathedral.”

I was lugging about five or six pounds of camera gear on me and feeling the 11,000-feet  of elevation. All I could think at that moment was “What about the guys who had to schlep movie cameras up this trail?” And then the vista steadily opened up before us.

Vista of Music Pass and the Sand Creek basin in the Sangre De Cristo mountains near Westcliffe.

The panorama of Tijeras Peak, Music Mountain, and Milwaukee Peak–all which top 13,000 feet– is simply spectacular. I was awestruck.

Now Scott and his dog Lacy have dragged me along on some memorable hikes in the Sangres. Some of those outings have been real struggles for me, others less so. All have been challenges. Music Pass–certainly the most stunning–should have been the easiest of the bunch. But, as it turns out, it wasn’t.

We began the day at the Grape Creek trailhead and gradually made our way up the four-wheel-drive road toward the pass. It was a beautiful fall day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. A mix of aspen and pine lined the road. Scott’s dog Lacy took point and made a few forays into the bush along the way. The conversations along the way were witty and deprecating, but not nearly as jaded as one might expect from a pair of journalists. It was an easy, uneventful ascent for the most part, akin to hiking Newlin Creek.

After photographing that impressive view at the top of the trail, the three of us headed down into the Sand Creek basin for a creek side lunch. About a mile or so down the trail, and not long after Lacy emerged from an uncomfortably lengthy pursuit of some unseen animal, I felt a wave a nausea. “Goddamnit,” I thought, knowing I was on the cusp of altitude sickness. “Never fucking fails.”

Long story made short: I ralphed shortly after lunch. Scott and Lacy moved up the basin  trail then patiently waited at the top as I labored back up the path. Upon finally arriving, Scott deadpanned “You might consider sticking to hiking the Riverwalk.”

We began our hike back to Scott’s Subaru in a what I’d call a subdued mood. Scott was still miffed with Lacy’s wanderings and was carefully picking his way down the road to spare a sore knee. Lacy was on her leash, penance for her pre-lunch misadventure. And I was feeling humbled by the altitude.

My disposition eased as we wound down the road. Oxygen, the late afternoon light, and changing aspen were all welcomed relief. Scott wondered aloud about my struggles with altitude, noting that Music Pass is lower than Greenhorn, and I’ve hiked that with relative ease. He suggested anxiety might play a role why the Sangres make me sick. I replied that was food for thought.

Aspen leaves  sway in a late afternoon breeze along Forest Service Road 119 in the Sangre De Cristo mountains near Westclifffe. 

I don’t know why I subject myself to that seemingly inevitable, unpleasant end every time I go hiking with Scott and Lacy in the mountains. It sucks throwing up. But I have to concede that the sheer beauty of the trail, be it Horn Creek, Lakes of The Clouds, Taylor Creek, Mosca Pass, or Music Pass, makes it worth the price of admission.