Wild Basin

There is an place not too far from my home called the Wild Basin Area. Though I have never researched the reason this was the given name I like to think it has to do with all the rivers, streams, creeks, and waterfalls located in the beautiful place. It was here I was hiking with a goal to reach the magnificent Ouzel Falls. The trail is not a difficult one and follows the banks of the St. Vrain River and two other waterfalls along the way. The mountains had been receiving quite a bit of rain recently and though this day was clear and sunny the river was swollen and raging beside us. As we made our way along the trail I began to notice that I could actually follow the trail without assistance by using the sound of the St. Vrain. Of course I still needed to exercise caution because there were rocks on the trail and I certainly didn’t want to stumble and fall in the river. Still, it was an amazing feeling hiking without help if only for a small while. The river was telling me where I was and where I needed to go. I did not know exactly what was behind me and I certainly did not know what lies ahead but in that moment I knew exactly where I was. We stopped for a short rest near Calypso Cascades and I began to realize this hike was synonymous with life.
The past is behind us and the future is not set but do we know where we are in this moment? We are told to live in the present but so often we find ourselves lost in our past or daydreaming of the future. As humans we seem to be unique in this way. When a beaver dam breaks the beaver does not simply sit and stare at the ruined structure. He moves on and rebuilds. The black bear does not sit and dream of its long winter slumber. It roams the land, feeding and frolicking in its domain. Should we not follow the beaver and bear’s example? Too many unfortunate souls get mired down in the mistakes of their past while others get lost in what they consider their glory days of old. Meanwhile, many become so focused and, sometimes, obsessed with the future that they can think and see nothing else. What I know on this day is that the warm sun, the raging water, and the chirping insects will never be quite the same as they are right now. On this night the cool air that comes with the evenings in the mountains will never feel quite this good. Certainly we can and should remember the past and plan for the future. But is not enjoying whatever joy you sense or feel around you at the present not receive the bulk of your attention?  With each dawn, a beautiful day. With every cup of tea, a wonderful sensation of flavor. With each chirping bird, a joyous wild song. Life with every breath. It seems as though the overall quality of life can only improve if we all savor each moment. For my own part I know that reliving the trauma of losing my sight and worrying about what future I can or cannot have will only lead to my own personal ruination. Living, learning, and loving in the present can allow us all to overcome any obstacle no matter how big or small. Our pain will be lessened while our joys are heightened.
As we prepare to continue down the trail, I attempt to take in all that is around me for I know now it will never be quite like it is in this moment. In this land known as the Wild Basin I have learned to accept and appreciate the most important gift I will ever receive, the present.

Lulu City

One day in early August I ventured back across the Divide to hike to a place called LuLu City. It is the site of an old gold mining town that reached its peak glory days in the late 1800’s. Today very little remains to let us know a town was ever here. After passing the site we continued on to a peaceful spot along the Colorado River. It was a relatively flat grassy spot that was well shaded by the surrounding trees. We chose to stop here in this peaceful place to eat our lunch and rest for a bit. As we sat there, I listened to my companions chat with one another. Some were talking about the history of LuLu, while others shared their reason for vacationing here in the mountains. As I listened to the chatter and ate my sandwich I began to reflect on the various reasons people come to this wild place.

So many people come up here to the high country for such a variety of reasons and have been doing so for hundreds of years. Some of the earliest American explorers that first came to these mountains did so for the adventure while others were running from the past they left behind them. The inhabitants of LuLu City had come to the mountains like so many others in that era to seek their fortune in gold and other minerals. Today tourists come here for somewhat different reasons. Some are here for an adventure they can brag about to their friends back home while others are just trying to escape their somewhat drab “normal” lives back wherever they came from. Then, there are those who venture out here for the reason I chose to make this my home, for the sense of peace and serenity these mountains can bring. For all the different reasons that brought and continue to bring people out here, how many of them actually find what they seek? Did those seeking to escape their past manage to outrun their demons out here? Did all the miners and prospectors claim a vast fortune and live their days out in wealth and comfort? Do the modern day adventure seekers truly feel that adventurous and bold upon returning home? Does everyone find their desired peace and serenity amongst the tall hills?

Simple logic tells us that it is simply impossible that everyone received what they sought from the mountains. History only confirms what we already know to be true, but we also know that some lucky individuals did indeed find what they were after and many others that did not find their personal goal found something else just as valuable if not more so. The man who was a murderer back east made his peace with God after confessing his sins. The miner did not find a fortune in gold but raised a fine loving family blessed with good health. The adventurer did not make it up the peak he dreamed of but falls in love and marries the girl he meets out in the mountains. For my own part, I wandered out here to this magnificent land not sure where life was taking me but have now found a home where my soul is happy, content, and free.

We travel to so many places seeking so many different things. Sometimes we find what we are after and sometimes we do not. We find something completely different than we dreamed of and some of us find nothing at all. These mountains are teaching me to take whatever gift I find and not waste time seeking that which I do not really need. The wild places can give us peace of heart, mind, and spirit. Once we acquire those gifts I believe all else will follow in good time. Gorge your spirit on a wild place and let the crows feed on the mundane.

Mills Lake

I remember a hike I took with a few friends to a place called Mills Lake. We started late on the trail and took a very leisurely pace up the path stopping along the way to take in the views of the Glacier Gorge and the surrounding peaks. Two of my companions that day were a pair of young women from Brazil who had never hiked with me before. It was not hard for me to detect their awkwardness in guiding a sightless person on a mountain trail but they were clearly making a concentrated effort to be as helpful as possible. 

One thing that stood out to me while we hiked up in the warm afternoon sun was how these friends from afar mentioned every little bump along the trail so as I could never guess whether I was about to encounter an actual step or merely a small water bar placed to help prevent erosion. I attempted to explain to my fellow hikers that they need not bother mention the little steps but only needed to warn me of bigger steps and rocks along the trail. They merely insisted on letting me know of every step along the way because they feared that I may fall and suffer an injury. 

After traveling for two and a half miles and climbing seven hundred feet we arrived at our destination at last. As we sat there sipping water and admiring the view of Long’s Peak I began to think about my friends’ desire to keep me from harm. While there can be no doubt their honest intentions and deep concern and care for my wellbeing they clearly had not spent any time in the wild with me and had greatly underestimated my abilities. Certainly this was not the first time this had happened to me nor will it be the last but I found myself deep in thought about the whole episode. 

So often we underestimate one another not out of a sense of superiority but instead out of a desire to protect what we perceive to be a weaker person. I have no doubt that I too have been guilty of this noble but seriously misguided notion. We look at a quiet and shy child without realizing they have a natural gift for acting. We see a man in a wheelchair and want to do everything for him because we think he is incapable of doing for himself and yet this man could very well be a Olympic athlete and sole supporter of his family. We even ponder this in nature. The moose is a clumsy looking creature but in fact possesses great strength and can survive the harshest mountain winters. 

Where do we draw the line between concern and overprotection? I know for myself the answer lies within me. I know what I can accomplish and what I need assistance with. What I love about roaming about and living in these mountains is that I must be bold and daring but unafraid to ask for help when I truly need it. The protective cocoon we strive to wrap around others can very well snuff out their potential greatness. I think of my loving grandmother who supports me in all I do but is also there to help me when I stumble on my life path. What I now see with these blind eyes is a world of people with great possibilities and potential. People whom I will no longer try to protect but instead will offer whatever support they choose to accept from me. Just as I occasionally stumble and fall on the trail, we will all stumble and fall on our great journey. But when someone falls we will not stop them or attempt to get them to turn back. We will help them up, brush them off, and ask, “What is your next move?” 

This wild and untamed land has given me much this day. I am learning about myself, I am learning about the power others possess, and I am teaching others to look for the powers possessed by each other. Such a powerful lesson a short hike can teach us. I will no longer look at the obvious weakness; I will look for the hidden strength.

 

The storm

There is nothing quite like a big storm in the high mountains. The clouds come so low that you can no longer see even the nearest peaks and summits, but are instead amongst the clouds themselves. The rain hammers down in fat drops and there is no such thing as a warm summer rain up here. Instead, it is always a cold invigorating blast from above. The lightening is so close you could almost reach out and touch the great sky fire. Then there is the thunder. Great claps and booms so loud you feel as though the sky itself is cracking and fracturing around you. 

It was during a recent such storm that I found myself sitting on my porch and marveling at nature’s fury. I thought of all the tourists who were undoubtedly annoyed by the weather and wondering what happened to their blue skies and wonderful views of the surrounding mountains. It dawned on me that if someone were to come up here at this very moment and had never been to my home before they would likely have no idea of the splendor around them. This magnificent place would seem nothing but a gray, wet, and cold land. Were they to take the time to truly get to know these mountains, they would come to realize what a wild garden it truly is. 

So often we hear how we should not judge a book by its cover, but it happens nevertheless. A desert is thought to be barren and desolate though it has beautiful colors, amazing sunsets, and life swirls about it. A seemingly old man turns out to be a master craftsman using skills acquired over a lifetime. What many would call a hideous spider weaves the most intricate and beautiful web. A small bony child grows to be a star at track and field. 

Here in my mountains a wild storm rages, driving people to shelter, but brings the heavens so close we can almost reach out and touch God’s face. The storm, child, spider, old man, and desert are not ugly or weak or evil. They are strong, beautiful, and inspiring. How different would this world be if someone did not see the beauty and potential in all things around them? How many children would have never accomplished such amazing feats had not someone believed in them? How different would my own life had turned out had I listened to every person who told me I couldn’t because of my eyes? 

The storm should not frighten or anger us. Instead, we should be inspired by the rain, lightening, and thunder and let the storm within us rage and drive us whenever our souls need a little stirring and wild passion. The more the storm raged around me, the deeper my thoughts took me. No longer content sitting under cover, I left the shelter of my porch and walked into elements. I felt the rain hitting my face, I heard the thunder booming around me, and I sensed the bright flash of the lightening so close my hair stood on end. Such exhilaration! There was nothing in that moment I was not capable of! I wanted to shout and roar so that all would join me and feel the wild power that the mountains were begging to bestow on us. 

After a few minutes I stepped back under my porch, dripping wet. Though I love the sapphire skies and the peaks around me when in full view, I do not believe I had ever seen such a beautiful day such as that one. The storm is not concealing the beauty; it is a part of the beauty. Let your storm rage both within and without every once in a while so that your spirit may be refreshed.

Lake Isabelle

Deep in the Indian Peaks Wilderness Area is a lake called Lake Isabelle. The lake sits up at nearly eleven thousand feet and this is where I planned to hike to. It was yet another beautiful summer day without a cloud in the sky. 

The trail started out fairly smooth and took me through a cool shaded fir forest along the shores of Long’s Lake. As my companion guided me along the trail, I took note of my surroundings as much as my senses would allow me. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the tall trees, ground squirrels scampered about, my companion noted a moose sipping water from the lake not far from us, and a woodpecker was drumming a tree somewhere nearby. After a couple of miles we came to a series of rocky and uneven switchbacks that lasted for nearly a half mile. It was the kind of terrain that gave you a physical sense of satisfaction as you navigate it.

Upon reaching the top we navigated a narrow trail closely bordered by small shrubs and trees that brushed my skin as I passed. What we found at the end of the trail was not a pristine mountain lake but instead a giant half empty mud hole that swarmed with mosquitos. I was told the Indian Peaks themselves were in view but it was hard for us to enjoy with the swarm of biting insects around us. Early forest fires had caused the Forest Service to send its water bucket helicopters to collect water from the lake which dramatically lowered its levels far earlier in the season than usual. We quickly ate the lunches we had packed and hurried away from the lakeshore to begin our descent. 

Once we returned to the forest we were back at our leisure pace and again enjoying our surroundings without bother or care. Back on my porch and relaxing in the afternoon quiet I reflected on the day’s hike. While the destination had been disappointing and even uncomfortable, the journey there had been a very pleasant and enriching experience. 

How often in life do we become so focused on our destination that we forget to enjoy the time spent getting there? How many times do we strive to achieve a goal only to be disappointed by the outcome? Oftentimes, the conclusion is not what we sought or expected but we must take joy in the time spent getting there.  

A high school football team loses the state championship game but forge lifelong friendships in the process. A writer’s book is rejected by a publisher but the writing took its author to a place she had never been before. A man’s life is cut short by the scourge of cancer but he lived a long rich life along the way.  Accept the fact that the destination may not be what you imagine, but do not let it stop you from making the journey. 

The old adage tells us that getting there is half the fun. Do you ever question why getting there cannot be all the fun? While there are many times we arrive at a mental or physical place we want to be after a long travel, it is only a fool who assumes that the ending will always be the perfect one. The wiser person realizes that the end is an unknown and treasures each footstep along the trail instead. 

I smiled to myself as the evening came upon my mountains for I now understood that the day’s hike had not been a disappointment after all, it was instead another glorious day in which the high country had taught me yet another valuable lesson.

Grand Lake

I once traveled across the Continental Divide to Grand Lake. It is a large lake with a small town situated around it. Some friends and I decided to cool ourselves in the cold mountain fed lake to relieve ourselves from the warm weather. As I submerged my feet in the cool clear water I opened my senses and took in the mountain summer day. 

The sun warmed my back, and a light rainfall earlier in the day brought a fresh scent with it. Some children were splashing around and their laughter carried across the lake. I thought of the water that was cooling my body and reflected on where this water was going. 

Grand Lake is the headwater of the mighty Colorado River and eventually makes its way to the deep blue of the Pacific. It seems such a long journey from my mountains to the wide bosom of the ocean. Though there is no way of knowing what this liquid, that brings forth life, will encounter its beginning and ending is already set. 

The life of a man or woman is similar in that respect. We are born and, someday, we will pass into the afterlife. We journey on this land in the river of time for what seems such along time but in the grand scheme of things is not as long as we think. The water can encounter so many obstacles along the way. Sometimes it drifts along a side stream, sometimes it will be slowed by a beaver dam, it may be absorbed by a farmer’s field to nourish crops for a small time, or it may travel straight and true down the river to its final destination. But no matter what path the water flows, it will always end in the same place. So it is with life. 

We are born on the lake and someday we will enter the mystery of the deep sea but it’s what we encounter on the river that will shape the world around us. We may get sidetracked or slowed down by we flow on nevertheless. We nourish those around us as the water nourishes the plants and animals. We leave our mark on this planet as the water marks the riverbanks. We carry hard learned lessons and memories, both good and bad, just as the water carries sediments as it flows on. The largest difference between the water and us is that we have some measure of control of how we flow. When we are slowed by the beaver dams that fate or our fellow man will sometimes place in front of us, we must endeavor to flow on. When we pass a person who is in need of help we must make the personal decision to absorb ourselves into the field and nourish the plant. When others try to lure us down a side stream we must remain true to ourselves and stay the course of the river. 

With so much going on around us it is so simple to forget that we all have a purpose in life. Every drop in a river has a job and a great sense of satisfaction comes only if that purpose is served. That job is complete before we reach the end of our journey. Were we to flow through the river without discovering the meaning of our existence then we enter the sea as a wasted drop of freshwater. The single drop does not know when or where its life purpose will be discovered. It could be soon after leaving the lakeshore or it may not occur until it nears the ocean but the purpose is there somewhere along the river. Perhaps the drop has many purposes and stops along its journey and perhaps it has only one. 

Whether we have many life tasks or merely one, they are all equally important. A single drop helps feed a mighty oak, the oak drops many acorns spawning a whole new generation of oaks. The drop supports the trout population giving the black bear sustenance. No life task is too small or insignificant. As you flow down your river of life open your heart and mind so that you may discover your mission and leave your mark on the great map.

Yellow Mountain Trollie

I once took a four mile hike through the alpine tundra with a guide and a handful of tourists. It was a beautiful day and I could easily imagine how spectacular the view was to my sighted companions. The Continental Divide was in all its splendor and we were all in fine spirits.
One of our guides had a keen interest in wildflowers native to my mountains. At one point she stopped us on the trail to point out a Yellow Mountain Trollie. I asked if she might help me locate one of these delicate beauties so that I might feel it. As I ran a finger over the soft yellow petals I was struck how something so small and fragile could survive in such a harsh environment where snow could be found even in July.

 The mighty Lodgepole Pine could not sustain itself up this high. How does this seemingly weaker plant species live and, indeed, flourish so far up? Is not the tree the stronger species? What is the true measure of strength? Is it brute power? Is it the ability to adapt to one’s surroundings? The delicate alpine flora grows where the mighty tree cannot reach. The little marmot roams where the black bear will not. What can mankind learn from this lesson of the wild? An old woman walks to her church every Sunday morning through what many consider a dangerous neighborhood while the troublemaker takes safety in numbers with a gang. A modern day politician in good health plods away day after day counting money and votes while Theodore Roosevelt who was sickly and nearsighted spent his every free moment enjoying and preserving the wild places he roamed. Somewhere deep in an office building, tucked away in a cubicle, a man with perfect vision stares at a computer while a blind man wanders the mountains.
The natural world tells us that strength is not found in the muscle, but rather in the soul. The gentle flower that follows its heart will outpace the lumbering pine. The small marmot that reaches for the stars will finish the great race far ahead of the bear. The kind of strength that matters most in life is not found in the arms, legs, or hands. It is found within the spirit we are all born with. We need only search within ourselves to unlock our true potential. I stood up from where I had crouched to examine this natural marvel. A powerful feeling washed over me and in that moment I felt as though I could nearly move the entire Never Summer Range that stood in front of me. In the flower I had found new strength. What seemingly small wonder will unlock your power?