Got a text from my youngest brother the other night: What was the name of that lake we hiked to? (actually 3 texts in a row of the same question--I think there was beer involved.)
The lake was Timber lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. He was 16 and I was 22 and we had spent the last 10 days camping and fishing mountain streams in Colorado. Including one spectacular stream where we climbed down into a canyon and fished below numerous waterfalls and caught trout on every other cast. I suppose not too many fishermen showed the dedication to reach those pools.
We hiked 5 miles and climbed 3000 feet to reach Timber lake at just over 11,000 in elevation. And the fish were not biting. The ridge of mountains behind the lake was the continental divide, and blue jays were dashing in and stealing bits of our lunch. We could visualize a path up the ridge and decided to give it a go. It really was a relatively easy climb....except for details like no oxygen and false peaks. We never heard of false peaks before and I'm pretty sure we counted 22 before we got to the top. The top was over 13,000 ft and under 14,000ft and off one side everything ran to the Atlantic ocean and the other side flowed to the Pacific. Naturally we peed in both bodies of water.
Coming down we sang old Roger Miller songs (Dang Me and You Can't Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd figured prominently). We made up a crazy story and got caught in the dark about half way down. We are pretty sure we heard African lions and Indian tigers in the dark forest still several miles from camp. We cooked a steak, drank Yukon Jack and rehashed the day. In the morning, we decided there was nothing we could do to beat that, so we packed up and went home.
My brother's text came over 40 years later. Now it occurs to me how lucky (awesome) we were to create an event that we still remember vividly 40 years later. Who does that? I can count on one finger all the other events that occurred when I was 22.
Those were the thought going through my head whilst cutting out chips one at a time this weekend.
M
My license plate is showing. I know I've blurred it mostly, but have missed enough pics that it's a bit like Miley Cyrus saying: Oh are my tits out?
There's no real point to covering them up anymore.
SR