I screamed with joy a lot today. It was an exceptionally good day.
I screamed when I crossed the Colorado and Utah state lines.
I screamed when I caught my first glimpse of the mountains. I love how you think they're clouds at first, and then you realize what you're actually seeing. As soon as I saw them, I knew I wasn't going to just drive straight through Colorado without at least a little hiking.
I found a trail near Breckenridge that sounded promising, but when I got there, the trail was closed. So I found this trailhead and took off into the woods. Two days into the trip, and I'm already breaking my rule about telling someone where I am if I'm hiking alone. What is it about national forests and wilderness areas that make me lose all good sense? I am powerless to resist their lure.
I love water in Colorado. It's always in a hurry to get somewhere. When you hike there, you always stumble over little creeks flowing down the mountain.
Overall, it was just a wonderful day of driving. Around every corner, there was something that would take your breath away. Twisty mountain roads, bluegrass music... there's just something terribly romantic about driving west. Packing your car and heading east just doesn't sound right. So I screamed every time I was overwhelmed with joy, which today, was often. Between that and all the country and bluegrass songs I was belting today, I am actually hoarse.
And I'm about to scream a whole lot more when Kristin and Jason walk through the door to this hotel room here in Green River, Utah!
I screamed when I crossed the Colorado and Utah state lines.
I screamed when I caught my first glimpse of the mountains. I love how you think they're clouds at first, and then you realize what you're actually seeing. As soon as I saw them, I knew I wasn't going to just drive straight through Colorado without at least a little hiking.
I found a trail near Breckenridge that sounded promising, but when I got there, the trail was closed. So I found this trailhead and took off into the woods. Two days into the trip, and I'm already breaking my rule about telling someone where I am if I'm hiking alone. What is it about national forests and wilderness areas that make me lose all good sense? I am powerless to resist their lure.
As soon as I started hiking, it was, "Why hello, switchbacks... haven't seen you in a while..." My lungs were burning within two minutes. I told myself it was because of the altitude (over 9,000 feet). But I persevered, and it felt GOOD. So good. About halfway through the hike, a girl ran by me. And I thought, "That looks like fun. But I could never do that. Or could I???" Fearless Erin is back. Why do I have so much trouble with this in Chicago? Anyway, I took off running down the rocky trail, leaping over roots and creeks and logs and felt like I was going to burst with happiness. (Or maybe that was my lungs feeling like they were going to explode.) I kept getting lightheaded (so I think the altitude really did affect me), but I didn't want to stop. I ran most of the mile back to the car. For a non-runner on a mountain trail, I felt like that was respectable. Now I just want to run and run.
I love water in Colorado. It's always in a hurry to get somewhere. When you hike there, you always stumble over little creeks flowing down the mountain.
Overall, it was just a wonderful day of driving. Around every corner, there was something that would take your breath away. Twisty mountain roads, bluegrass music... there's just something terribly romantic about driving west. Packing your car and heading east just doesn't sound right. So I screamed every time I was overwhelmed with joy, which today, was often. Between that and all the country and bluegrass songs I was belting today, I am actually hoarse.
And I'm about to scream a whole lot more when Kristin and Jason walk through the door to this hotel room here in Green River, Utah!
Comments