WINTER CAMPING IN COLORADO

Arrived at Twin Lakes Thursday night, after going through a white out blizzard at the top of Freemont Pass.  We were about an hour from Twin Lakes and the weather had been fine until we hit the summit.   Then the snow came fast and plenty.  Yes.  Scared. Very.  We could hardly see the road, hazard lights blinking, 5 mph.  After 15 minutes of this craziness, we found a place to pull over so the car behind us could lead.  That helped since we could follow their tracks.....much easier.  All in all it was a 30 minute nightmare of  'Oh, shit...what have we gotten our selves into?"  Fortunately, I knew we were at a high elevation and from experience believed if we could get lower, the
weather would improve.

It did.

An hour later we were climbing the switchback dirt road to our favorite camp spot.

         



Beautiful, almost springlike when we woke up the next morning.  I hung the hammock and we hiked a bit before a snowstorm started making its way down the mountain pass.







We were perched on top of a hill and could watch the snow clouds come towards us....and then leave, always teasing that the storm had passed.  It would arrive again, of course, with greater intensity.   At 5 pm the white fluff started sticking, temps dropped and conditions worsened.

While we could have stayed there, we were super exposed to the elements, the wind was howling and to get off that hill we knew, if the storm continued, we would have to plow the camper through snow drifts in the morning.  There was mud underneath all of this, as well, and we thought this might add another layer of difficulty getting out.

Other concerns were the stabilizing jacks which might sink into the  mud and, of course, the ever increasing icy road.  This road was our only way out!

Too many variables.

We decided to play it safe and drove off the beautiful camp perch,
heading further down the hill.  Didn't know whether we would get down to the bottom or would have to find another spot along the
way.   We ended up one switchback down, finding a trailhead with its small gravel parking lot.  No cars.  Because it was flat, we didn't have to put the jacks down to level and stabilize the RV.  The view was different and less dramatic than the spot above, but equally beautiful in a different way.

The trailhead was one that lead to the summit of Colorado's
highest mountain peak, Mt Elbert.  At this beautiful dusk hour with falling  snow, we felt very safe; so, for a while and before returning to our toasty warm camper, we laced up our hiking shoes and headed up the trail.  It was gorgeous and unusually light because of the snow 45 minutes later, we retuned to our glasses of wine, toasty beds and books to read while the wind and snow blew outside.

We were exceptionally content in this winter solitude.....4 inches of snow fell and froze that night.  The landscape was pristine.  There is a

confidence and serenity that comes when you successfully are alone with nature and its winter conditions.  And it was comforting knowing in the least there would be plows at some point the next day, or the next.

Slept well and woke up early.  We had a big breakfast before trekking up the Mt. Elbert trail again for a couple of hours.  The snow had stopped falling and by 9 am there were patches of blue sky peeking 

around the mountains.  Saw one other person who was on his cross country ski's and heading up the mountain.  The changing light made everything breathtakingly beautiful ...evergreens, low sage appearing brush were topped with big clumps of snow dollops.  The birds were chirping - at first only one and then many as the morning warmed up.  We crossed a fast moving stream surround by two feet of snow on the trail before turning back.  

By the time we returned to the campsite mid morning, the snow/ice had melted off the road.  Housekeeping had been done earlier, so leaving quickly was easy.  We headed down and explored a lower elevation camping spot for another time.  Tennessee Pass Cafe called for lunch; a 30 minute drive away in Leadville.  This funky mining town cafe was as good as it always is, though cold.  The 
owners had turned down the heat over night, so we were immediately met with hot, freshly brewed coffee.  I love this regular stopping place.  

Driving the 2 hours home was easy with no mountain returning to Denver traffic around which we had to navigate.  By 4:30 we had the camper unpacked, cleaned inside and out and stored.  It was a full and unrushed day.  With the white out. Inciting Thursday night as the inky exception, this was as perfect a winter camping excursion as I ever may get!!!  

In Love With The Natural World

Out the back door and up the hill;  I love the trek.  

This relic marks halfway "up".   

It is beautiful, this land, and Colorado is a lovely place to call home.

Rarely Black & White

Rather we are hues
Glorious color, diversity
Shapes and sizes
Thoughts, beliefs, ways
Parts of the Whole
Ever moving with
The One.

The Love Letter

Two year old draft rediscovered tonight.  It's safe to publish....now ......that I am in the arms of the Colorado's mountains.

"Brown boxes are everywhere - cardboard in every size, on every speck, of every space, in every room.  There are empty boxes, half full ones and those ready to be named.   Nothing feels very solid around here these days - other than cardboard telling me that I am going somewhere.

Moving isn't quite my cup of tea any more, but there are sweet spots.  When you move you get to dust off and revisit the corners of your life.  Some of what adorns my home have served their purpose - these will get shared or tossed.  The rest - still meaningful and necessary - will make their way to Colorado.  I get to choose.

Tonight was devoted to packing books - the ones beside the bed.  I glanced at the titles - a funny mixture of poetry and running, Huxley and humor co-mingling!  A wide range of interests and a library to match.

Then I saw the words.  The packing came to a hault.

Kahlil Gibran's, The Prophet.  Its pages well-worn and softly cradling a letter.  I knew instantly what lay before me.  Gibran's lens on love and my Beloved's feelings once known by heart.  His words had turned my life upside down and right-side up so many years ago.

For a second I wondered if I should read even one poetic sentence.  But I wanted to feel again what once was and then experience how much my heart had healed.

I grabbed a glass of wine, propped up the pillows and settled in for a long summer's night read.   It was good and by midnight I was done....nothing left.   Lessons learned, boxes packed, wine consumed.   

This once loved woman, or so I felt, shed hardly a tear.  I earned my rock star status this hour..  TIME.  It simply takes time."

Losing and Winning

I was thinking about all the resources and effort that my son recently gave to a music competition. Winning, of course, was the dream and potential payoff, and while a finalist, nonetheless he felt short of that top spot.  But his efforts and progress connected so many of us - through the music and also through the human experience of giving something our all.  Regardless of outcome, there is joy in the journey.

My son.

Making Sense of Aurora

Today I am equally anguished by the senseless killings in Aurora, Colorado as I am overjoyed with memories of deliberate kindnesses offered by so many people on my recent bike journey.   For hours and miles and only 30 days ago, I met countless good, good citizens.  Men and woman who knew me not, yet opened their hearts and homes to a stranger.   So many people, so often who gave so much day after day after day.

Yet when I reflect on the tragedy emerging from Aurora, it is the destructive behavior of one man that demands my attention.  I think I 'get' the good in people.  I see it and feel it regularly.  I can name and point to it and recognize those bejeweled by it.  I can cite chapter and verse and put goodness on it's rightful pedestal.  I even can sing it's tune and paint it's colors.  But it doesn't seem to be what we need right now - or at least not yet.

Humanity's evil nature with it's dark, raging eyes bent on destruction is what demands my attention the most today.  And rightfully so.   Until we understand why and how a good mind snaps or we learn about patterns of behavior that point to a crisis emerging and it's prevention or remedy - until we fully own the reality that any of us are a heart beat away from a mental illness or that we know without a doubt that James Holmes could easily be our son or brother, we literally or figuratively will continue to shoot at the weeds growing among us.  Life deserves solutions not more shooting.

But the beauty of life is that it won't let us reside among the harmful for ever.  Life calls to us and calls us back - time and time again.  Survivors from theater 9 are calling.  Anguished families are calling.  Our children are crying and bullies are ready to shoot.

We are circling the issue of mental health.  How many of us are grief-stricken looking at  this hair-dyed-a ridiculous red color doctoral student,  knowing he is someones child and brother and a California community's own?  How many of us want his life to end - fast or better yet, ignore him and focus on those we lost?

Mental illness is front and center again.  And it is demanding our collective focus.