We had planned to be at the Mt. Elbert trailhead by 7, but sleeping in won out, and it was almost 8. Our first stop of the day was at a convenience store, where I preemptively bought two celebratory beers to drink post-peak-bagging. The obviously local crusty, grey haired, attendant crookedly smiled at me and mused "This isn't a good day for the mountain." I had to agree with him; as we drove up the country road to the trailhead, the peak was shrouded in mist, and suspicious looking grey clouds. Call it determination, or masochism, we were going to hike Mt. Elbert. Every group we passed the first hour didn't make it to summit because the weather was too dicey.  They had followed the rules for hiking a peak; wake up at a freakishly early hour and be off the mountain before noon. While down-trodden hikers in thick parkas and gloves tried to warn us about the sleet, snow, and rain, we kept going, hoping that by some twist of fate, the weather would clear as the day w