
I had gotten a late, mid-morning start, knew there was a chance of thunderstorms, and saw some clouds over the peak in the distance. Perhaps against my better judgment, I proceeded anyhow...

All was well as I hit the long, east-west ridgeline traversing toward Baden-Powell past Mt. Burnham. Climbing a short switchback around 9000', I heard a single rumble of thunder, at which point I should have immediately turned around. Again, against my better judgment, I continued, saying "hmm, that was only one very isolated thunderclap." Bad wilderness decision.
About half an hour later, just short of the summit, along the lonely, isolated ridgeline, a righteous thunderstorm arrived, throwing down lightning bolts all around me at an alarmingly high frequency.

Having just that morning reviewed the NOLS lightning safety guidelines, I cursed myself for being an idiot, then set about making the best of a bad situation. I had open ridgeline for a mile or so in either direction. The only real option was to traverse down the north slope of the ridge, seeking relative safety amidst relatively smaller trees. I found a spot in a small gully, and assumed the lightning position, hoping for the best.

It was a pretty intense hour or so as I waited out the storm. When the interval between thunderclaps grew back to 5min or so, I beat a swift retreat back to safety, abandoning my summit attempt, but grateful for lessons learned and the opportunity to try again another day.