I was happy to be back home, even if it was raining and washing out plans to go rock climbing on sun-warmed granite. As Jeremy later said: “You have to do enough sports that you can pick the one that’s right for the day.” Today definitely wasn’t a rock day. It may be May, but it might just be a skiing day.
Of course, it doesn’t have to be just a skiing day, and so we were going for the trifecta: donuts at Donut Haus, skiing at Hidden Valley and lunch at Oskar Blues.
That always seems like a good idea, and that’s because it is a good idea.
Maybe a less-than-good idea was dragging my un-acclimated self up over 11,500 feet.
I was feeling okay, at least until we crossed a recently plowed segment of Trail Ridge Road. All those nights at 900 feet weren’t helping me out right now.
Past experience has taught me that I feel the worst around 11,500 feet when doing stupid things like this. Jeremy hadn’t left the state and of course was cruising uphill.
Our climbing for the ridge had the benefit of taking us above the clouds and into t-shirt weather. A pretty as the clear blue skies were, I could now hook up the “too warm” car to my growing train of excuses.
Before we reached the ridge I kept extending this train of thought with a growing line of excuses: “a thermos of hot tea that was obviously slowing me down”, “a new backpack I wasn’t used to”, etc.
Not that I wasn’t enjoying myself of course.
The excuse caboose (my last justification) left the train yard just as we reached the ridge crest. A break and the stripping of skins anticipated our descent down corn snow in the making.
A few turns brought us back to the road and into the clouds and the rime covered trees.
More turns deposited us back at the parking lot where we rushed on to finish our trifeca at Oskar Blues. We were back in the gloom, but smiling that we were some of the few that got to see the sun today.
Read Full Post »