I'm not going to say I was hiking 14ers before it was cool... but my father could rightly claim that and I was fortunate to be included/dragged along from a very young age. When did I first feel awe gazing at an expanse of the Rocky Mountains from the top of a high peak? I can't say, but I loved it enough to drag un-hikey friends up trails in high school. "It's just walking! It's only hard because there is no oxygen! Mind over matter!"
We weren't 14er snobs, though. The key was to be up high, above tree line, and even unnamed mountains in the 12-13K range were fair game. I remember backpacking in to camps where we could day-hike at least a few big peaks. There were lightning storms causing hair to stand straight up into the sky with electricity, mountain goats, pikas, tiny flowers, and the mind-blowing deliciousness that was an M&M at high altitude.
