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Michael Boaz

Stratton and the Sweetest Red Hat

By 29029 Everesting

January 17^th, 2025

In the fall of 2018, a friend invited me to join him at 29029 Snowbasin the next year.

“How hard could it be?” I thought.

I said yes.

Looking back now, I’m actually embarrassed to admit how underprepared I was for that first mountain.

I don’t think I read a single email before the event… never looked at the training program, or even the packing list. I had absolutely no idea what I was in for.

By the time it was Friday morning and I was asking for advice from another participant at breakfast about what to eat, I realized I was in over my head.

I did what I could as I climbed, but I had no clue how to handle it. I didn’t know how to pace myself, was sweating like crazy in the hot Utah sun, and was barely eating because I didn’t have an appetite.

Doubling over, out of breath, and just demolished, I managed to get 4 ascents before keeling over at the base.

I sat there, in a chair looking out at the ascent boards, for hours.

Eventually, I mustered up the energy for another 3 ascents before the end of the first day.

The next morning, I could barely walk when I got out of bed.

I wasn’t climbing anymore. I threw in the towel, called my wife, and got her to pick me up.

We still had plans after the event with the friend who invited me. Watching him proudly wear his Red Hat while we went fishing made me feel ashamed. Not because I failed, but because I hadn’t even given myself a chance to fail. I’d just quit.

Right then and there I decided that I was going to finish.

Next time, I was going to climb the damn mountain!

In 2021, I returned to Snowbasin prepared and determined. I earned my Red Hat, and it felt incredible.

Then, in 2022, I climbed again, cementing my place in the 29029 community.

I liked who I was after engaging with the community and climbing the mountain, so I signed up for a new mountain in ‘23, trading in the dust and heat of Snowbasin for the humidity and coastal mountains of Whistler.

I earned another Red Hat, and with it, earned my Black Bib for completing 3 mountains.

With each event, I was becoming more and more rooted in the community, so in 2024, I decided to go big.

I signed up for two different mountains AND the brand-new TRAIL event.

It was ambitious, but if there was anything I’d learned from my Red Hats, it was that ambition was a good thing to aim for.

My first time wearing my black bib came at Mont-Tremblant. It felt like an important milestone reflecting how deeply connected I had become with the 29029 community.

Through the torrential rains on Saturday, the bonds I’d built on the slopes only grew stronger, carrying me to another Red Hat.

But that was only just the first mountain to climb in ‘24…

TRAIL was a new kind of challenge: three mountain marathons in three days, of which I spent most of them with the same group of people who shared my pace.

Our connections deepened as we conquered mile after mile together.

It was a hell of a journey!

I lost both of my big toenails after the fact, but even then, I can’t help but look back at it fondly.

It was hard as s***, but that challenge came alongside the rest of the community, making something even as daunting as 3x3 manageable.

All that was left was my final mountain of the year. Little did I know that was going to be the biggest test of the year…

It was business as usual when I arrived in Stratton - I’d become used to the pre-event rituals, and was good at dealing with the nerves and energy that came along with them.

But as soon as we started climbing, things felt off.

I felt cold… sure, it was cold outside, but I felt colder than I should have. My heart rate was strangely elevated, not coming down to my normal lows, and the terrain was a muddy, frosty, slippery mess. Each footstep felt like a battle not only for traction, but with my own body.

Stratton was turning into a grit fest far earlier than I expected it to get hard.

Around 9 pm on the first day, partway up my 11th ascent, I started to feel a tightness in my chest.

I can’t breathe.

I was halfway up the mountain, fighting for breath. Not the usual I’m-winded-from-exerting-myself, but an actual struggle just to get any oxygen.

I panicked, ripping off my backpack, my bib, and eventually even my shirt, trying to do everything I could to catch my breath.

The medics pulled me off the mountain, driving me down to the base, and eventually to the hospital. They thought I might be having a heart attack.

Is this how my 2024 season ends?

The hospital ran through some tests, and gave good news: there was nothing wrong with my heart.

But the diagnosis wasn’t great: walking pneumonia.

“We’re not telling you that you have to drop out… but we’re also not telling you that you’re all clear to keep going. We think you need to rest.”

I made it back to my hotel room around midnight and went to bed, unsure of what the morning would hold.

After 4 short hours, I tossed and turned awake.

I didn’t feel great, but I did feel a bit better.

I could breathe at least, although still shallower than normal.

Sitting and pondering, I thought back to my first 29029. I remembered how failing had made me feel.

I didn’t want to feel that again.

I wanted to keep climbing.

I guzzled some coffee, ate some breakfast, and headed out towards the ascent board.

That’s when I saw it.

The Red Hat Pace markers.

I was behind.

Not a little, but a lot.

The Red Hat Pace was two entire ascents ahead of me!

I tried doing the math, but realized it was only going to make me feel worse.

I just need to start cranking these out and see what happens.

I started climbing.

It was the hardest experience I’d ever had on a 29029 mountain. It was close to the hardest thing I’d ever done.

It felt like I was only able to use maybe half of my lung capacity. As a shell of a man, I just broke things down into little bits.

Climb, talk to people on the mountain, climb some more.

I was just doing my best.

My head-down strategy paid off, and all of a sudden, it was 5 pm as I summited my Red Hat ascent.

It was the sweetest finish ever.

Seriously, it was a Red Hat that I didn’t think I’d earn.

But I did.

I’ve learned a lot from 29029 mountains, and one of those lessons that stands out most now came from my time at Stratton.

The lesson?

Not everything is linear.

I came out on Saturday two laps behind Red Hat pace. Things hadn’t gone to plan, and if you just looked at that pace, and how far behind I was, you’d assume I should just throw in the towel.