West of Leadville CO a couple summers ago. We started on the dirt road that leaves the Turquoise Lake paved road.
What better way to start a day than to find yourself on a smooth, well-maintained road that ascends mildly but relentlessly to a high mountain pass! A mountain biker notices road texture more than scenery, no matter how "breathtakingly beautiful" the postcard scenery might be. This road seemed determined to give us a perfectly balanced ride. In particular I loved the variety of viewscapes.
As the ride developed I felt an overarching sense of gratitude. Perhaps because the object of my gratitude was so nebulous, the gratitude seemed more transcendent than the alpine vistas themselves.
Only a few gasoline athletes passed us. Do they resent us? In their minds they are adventuring with mighty jeeps, big 'tars,' winches, fancy GPS gadgets, and all. Sometimes they even caravan--there's safety in numbers, you know. Then they pass a little "foo-foo" dog, trotting up to the pass like it's a walk around the block.
Soon the little dog and I were on top, at the pass, where a jeep couple was gathering mushrooms at 12,000 feet! The mushroom lady was quite proud of her collection. She delivered a little tutorial on the art of mushroom hunting. At first it looks like such a humble and unexciting hobby.
But in fact it seemed important. In the ordinary course of daily life, back in town, jostling in the street as the poet William Blake would put it, most people seem like uninteresting nuisances to me. But here at Hagerman Pass, frisking with a pet obsession, freed of the daily grind, people can seem as charming as a kitten unrolling a ball of twine.
What better way to start a day than to find yourself on a smooth, well-maintained road that ascends mildly but relentlessly to a high mountain pass! A mountain biker notices road texture more than scenery, no matter how "breathtakingly beautiful" the postcard scenery might be. This road seemed determined to give us a perfectly balanced ride. In particular I loved the variety of viewscapes.
As the ride developed I felt an overarching sense of gratitude. Perhaps because the object of my gratitude was so nebulous, the gratitude seemed more transcendent than the alpine vistas themselves.
Only a few gasoline athletes passed us. Do they resent us? In their minds they are adventuring with mighty jeeps, big 'tars,' winches, fancy GPS gadgets, and all. Sometimes they even caravan--there's safety in numbers, you know. Then they pass a little "foo-foo" dog, trotting up to the pass like it's a walk around the block.
Soon the little dog and I were on top, at the pass, where a jeep couple was gathering mushrooms at 12,000 feet! The mushroom lady was quite proud of her collection. She delivered a little tutorial on the art of mushroom hunting. At first it looks like such a humble and unexciting hobby.
But in fact it seemed important. In the ordinary course of daily life, back in town, jostling in the street as the poet William Blake would put it, most people seem like uninteresting nuisances to me. But here at Hagerman Pass, frisking with a pet obsession, freed of the daily grind, people can seem as charming as a kitten unrolling a ball of twine.
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