If I were a light on a North Bound Train, I would shine it, Colorado Way
A statement that resonates deeply in my being. The majority of my outdoor wilderness experiences were in the state of Colorado from 1978 to 2017 when I retired and moved to Nevada. You can read of my adventures in most of my poems and short stories on this blog. There are places people and events that I attempted to capture and preserve for posterity and others to enjoy. The singular greatest regret I have in old age is it took until I was twenty five years of age to discover Colorado. Then came Wyoming, Utah and eventually British Columbia, Western Canada.
After all of North America, I could never forget tramping around Colorado and the hiking, mountain biking, trekking, and climbing. Some of the greatest outdoor adventures I have ever experienced came from that state. It became a state of mind for me. I was an enigma to a modern day society. My friends and I would have competitions to see which one of us could stay outside under the stars, the longest, without a roof over our head or walls surrounding us.
The highlight of that spring and summer was climbing and skiing Saint Mary’s Glacier (11,100ft.) with my English climbing partner Christian. It is the first time I discovered what sun cups were, They are large depressions in the snow where the sun has beaten down on the cold snow and melted a depression. The edges of the cups are extremely icy and dangerous to walk on or to ski over. You can slip on the in your hiking boots or worse yet you can loose your edge with your skis and slide and fall.
I remember stopping on a plateau where it was relatively flat with a very steep slope to the right of me. The day was warm, sunny and endless. A pristine Colorado adventure day. Christian skied up along side of me and slid a little to far and dropped slightly over the edge on to the steep slope. He obviously felt secure because he made no move to climb up and over the edge on the flat. We were in a conversation as to how long we would continue to climb and ski. I distinctly remember the panicked look on his face when suddenly the skis lost there edge and he started sliding down the steep slope toward a large wall of rocks. He was attempting to arrest the fall and regain his footing. Unfortunately his effort spun him around and he was sliding head first into the rocks. I could not stop myself from thinking, “Oh Crap, the keys to the jeep are in Christian’s pocket.” Christian was sliding headfirst into the rocks and I would have to go down and rescue him or to recover the body and get the keys to drive out for help either way. It was a steep vertical type slope. Fortunately he was able to twist his body just enough to take the impact with his shoulder and side, rather than his head. He climbed out after a long while and we hiked out. I with my remorse of the thought of car keys over his life and Christian on very shaken and wobbly knees. He recovered well and swore me to secrecy where his wife was involved. After several weeks of healing, we were fit enough to climb and summit Mount Of The Holy Cross (14,011ft.) and to gaze down with wonder at the bowl of tears that lies at the bottom of the cross. That however, Is an adventure for another story.