Or how to avoid lightning in the high country.
It was the crackling I heard first—like a bowl of Rice Krispies amplified through the speakers in Madison Square Garden. When the sky could no longer contain that noise, a blaring bang burst out of the dark gray air. A flash of light popped around me while the bang rumbled. My heart was already pounding from the hike—its pace became frenetic. The left side of my head felt fuzzy. My first instinct was to run. I took a few hectic steps and fell, smashing my knee into rock.
Mt. of the Holy Cross pokes 14,005 feet into the sky—higher than anything miles around it—and my girlfriend and I were somewhere near the top. It was a horrible spot to be stuck in a lightning storm. We should never have been there, and if we had gotten a little pre-trip advice from Nate Goldberg we never would have.
The director of the Beaver Creek Hiking Center, Goldberg has guided thousands of people up the state’s 14,000-foot peaks and has often been chased off Holy Cross by nearby lightning strikes. Most of his climbing advice revolves around his hiking mantra: Pack like a pessimist and hike like an optimist. 
“My pack is always heavier than it should be,” says Goldberg, who in addition to regularly ascending Colorado’s peaks has also spent years trekking around the Alps.
Most importantly, know the weather, he says. (He checks weather.com and the weather page on 14ers.com before heading out.) Watch the clouds, which typically roll in from the southwest, as they develop, says Goldberg. Clouds puffed up like a cauliflower head are friendly, dark ones shaped like the top half of an anvil are dangerous.
No matter what the weather looks like, Goldberg always turns around at noon—almost all the lightning-related fatalities in Colorado in the last 20 years have happened after noon. The trail isn’t going anywhere. “It’s about the journey and not always the destination or summit,” he says.
Fight the urge to hide under a rocky overhang or in a cave-like spot if you’re stuck above treeline in a storm. Lightning can hit those spots, and if it does, it’ll swirl around. “Get your pack off and get on your toes in a crouch position,” Goldberg says. “The less contact with the ground the better.”
Keep 30 or 40 yards between hikers as you move down the mountain; if there’s strike, there’s less of a chance it’ll hit the entire group.
We eventually made it down Holy Cross that stormy afternoon. We would have been better off with Goldberg’s advice, but there are no ‘sure things,’ he cautions. Goldberg likens lightning preparedness to avalanche awareness. “You can know a lot and there is a lot of great information, but it’s still unpredictable.” •