Daily Prompt Nothin’ But A Good Time Imagine that tomorrow, all of your duties and obligations evaporate for the day. You get the day all to yourself, to do anything you please. What types of fun activities would make your day?
I wrote this last year, last February. I would STILL want the same perfect day. It wouldn’t have to be this trail, but I love this trail so I’ll go with it. It’s wonderful that now I am back in Colorado — something I didn’t imagine as I wrote this in February 2014 — and I have no homework to grade any more. There is also a dog to add to the list of hiking pals — my puppy Bear.
The daylight hours are long and it is still early summer — mid-July. I get up and all my dogs (from the beginning of having dogs) are around me. I make a smoothie and a cup of good coffee, sit down at the computer and DON’T grade homework. I work on my novel in a minimalist style, of course.
When I finish writing for the day (which will be a very long day of daylight) I change clothes, fill my backpack and some dogp-acks with water bottles and head to the mountains. I have my own hydration pack, but that doesn’t help the dogs much.
The mountains are cool, comfortable and rattlesnake free. In fact, it isn’t even “my” current mountains, it’s the Rockies. We drive to the Hessie Townsite trail head and walk about 1/2 mile through ankle-deep run off to the trail head. It goes up a little hill (which doesn’t feel little at 7000 feet) and then continue climbing, though not as sharp a climb, next to a roaring crick (in Colorado they’re cricks not creeks or streams). We cross a bridge and look down at a waterfall. We keep going up a corderoy road (rail road ties laid into a dirt road to keep it from being muddy, miners built and used these). We reach Lost Lake. It’s as beautiful as ever. All of us (and it would be about 20, considering all the dogs I’ve ever had) are enchanted, but we’re not finished.
Because it’s a perfect day, none of this takes any time, even though we don’t hurry. We return to the main trail and join up with the Devils Thumb Trail. We pass a few patches of snow and walk through some (it’s late July) and finally reach a bowl at the literal end of the trail. It’s above treeline. There is a big difference between trees and tree line. The high alpine tundra is still in winter, but I love its windswept emptiness. I climb up to a saddle to the right of Devils Thumb and look down on North Park, feeling like Sir Edmund Hilary. I am on the top of the world with all of my best friends (who, in this perfect day, neither poop nor pee to mess up the ecosystem).