Category Archives: Outdoor Activities

90 Minute Hikes Outside of Denver

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Phenomenon like “quiet quitting“, the “great resignation” and some places experimenting with the four day workweek should make it abundantly clear that there is something less than ideal about the standard work culture of the post industrial world.

Note: This book was published in 2010

Our general work setup is built around a world that no longer exists. It was built around the industrial world of one income families of a hundred years ago. On an assembly line, the amount of value someone brings to a company is directly connected to the number of hours they are present. The eight hour workday represents a compromise of sorts between business owners and labor. It is based on this direct connection between value and hours worked, as well as a world where most laborers were men with women at home tending to childcare and household upkeep. Today’s world is completely different and needs a completely different paradigm.

A silent disco co-working pop-up in Denver, curtsey of Cifernoise Productions

However, realistically, it is going to take a while to get there. We are still in the beginning phases of exploring the new nature of work after the pandemic.

And, there are plenty of powerful interests trying desperately to keep as much of the old, flawed system as possible. This will certainly delay progress towards a new paradigm.

At this time, living a healthy and balanced life will require being innovative and working with what we have available. This is why I have taken an interest in hikes that can be done in roughly 90 minutes close to home. This fall, I tried two.

First was Pence Park, between Evergreen and Indian Hills.

The hike to the top is about a mile and a half (2.4 km) with an elevation gain of 750 feet (230m).

For a short hike, the views here are quite stunning, especially at the top.

My other 90 minute fall hike was Panorama Point, just outside the small town of Kittridge.

This hike has a round trip distance of just over three miles (≈ 5 km) and an elevation gain of 625 feet (190m). These hiking trails are actually only a few miles apart, so it is not surprising that they feel quite similar.

Panorama Point has an overlook of the town of Evergreen at the top.

So, there are some slight differences, but both hikes take about an hour and a half and are about 45 minutes to drive to from downtown Denver.

This activity address two of the biggest shortcomings of “9-to-5” office jobs. Spending those hours doing work inside, whether it is in an office or remote, can limit one’s exposure to sunlight. Some studies have estimated that well over half of Americans are not getting sufficient vitamin D, which mostly comes from exposure to sunlight. Additionally, most of these jobs are sedentary, involving sitting at a computer all day long, which is certainly not helping with the obesity epidemic.

These 90 minute hikes offer an opportunity to get some sun, exercise, and even be a bit social in the middle of the day on a weekday, particularly in the spring and fall seasons. On hikes like these, there is even the potential to limit the amount of time spent out of contact to under two hours. Eating and working from a nearby restaurant made my time away from my computer, messages, etc. not too much more than a standard lunch hour.

Blackbird Cafe in Kittridge, CO

Of course, not everybody lives in a place with amazing short hikes nearby. The key is to be creative and work with what you do have around you to find habits that help correct the imbalances created by a less than ideal work setup. Hopefully, the time will come sooner rather than later when we’ll determine how a majority of people can be happy, healthy and provide value to the organizations they work for. Until then, I hope you can find your version of the 90 minute hike less than an hour from home.

September Backpacking in the Rio Grande National Forest

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We drove two hours from the nearest town, Monte Vista, Colorado just to get to the Three Forks Trailhead in the Conejos River Valley.

It’s hard to imagine being any further away from civilization.

It’s the trip I needed, as it is the trip we all need from time to time. Three days without the constant distractions of modern life. Three days where one can just gather thoughts and reset from the constant onslaught of information.

It started on the final day of a rainy week. The trails were quite muddy from the previous several days.

It was actually somewhat of a miserable day. It’s hard enough to climb roughly 1400 feet (425m) carrying heavy backpacks. The morning was cold and mostly cloudy.

Then came the rain, somewhat heavy at times and the fog. And, it was a cold rain, the kind of rain that soaks coldness down to the bones. The kind of rain that made us want to just sit in our tents, which we did for over 12 hours that afternoon and evening.

The fog obscured the views of Blue Lake, at nearly 11,500 feet (3500m) both in the evening and especially the following morning.

After climbing a little bit higher the next day, we could see the manner in which this morning fog was impacting some parts of the forest but not others.

I guess we just happened to be in one of those unlucky spots where the thick set of clouds had established themselves for the entire night. There is something both humbling and satisfying about experiences like these. We live in an era where people try to predict and control everything. It’s nice to know what to expect from our experiences. However, something gets lost when we achieve a certain level of certainty in life. It can make things feel emptier, more formulaic, even robotic at times. Surprises bring beauty. Surprises bring anticipation. They lead to appreication. Surprises can make us feel alive.

Sure, I was miserable the first day, but once everything cleared up it was spectacular!

The less than ideal conditions on day 1 probably made me appreciate day 2 more. In this case, it even created a more unique experience. Often times, cold rain means snow at higher elevations, which we saw when we looked up.

As we approached the pass, along the Continental Divide, we even began to encounter some snow from the previous night.

Yet, it was also somehow drier.

One of the things I love the most about the mountains is how full of paradoxes it can be. With each valley and mesa being subject to different weather conditions each day, experiences can often be wildly different from expectations.

Combined with a type of natural beauty most of us are deprived of in our urban lives.

And seeing first hand, with features like deeper snow in the areas most commonly shaded.

Well, it forces us to think differently. In modern life, we typically try to understand and control our surroundings. Based on several factors, we select neighborhoods to live in. Many of us have jobs that provide a predictable stream of income. We learn routes, create habits and form routines. Here, all we can do is prepare for all the possibilities and respond to what happens.

What is odd is that the very thing that makes the conditions hard to predict, the mountains, is what makes it a place people want to visit. It’s almost as if humanity’s attraction to visiting places like this is a cosmic sign that we are, often unspokenly, yearning for a bit of chaos, a bit of surprise in our lives.

On the second day, we even found a wonderful, amazingly scenic, place to camp.

With an overlook of the Middle Fork of the Conejos River.

With amazing alpenglow in both the evening and the morning and the ability to see the stars on a new moon night.

The final day of these types of trips typically involves hiking back downhill. We followed the Middle Fork of the Conejos River, making it the gentlest day of the trip. It is also almost always a day of de-layering. For most of us, it is not typical to see frost in September. Yet, this day switched from frost to being kind of warm pretty quickly.

The best feature of the day, and the feature that made the trip was this unnamed waterfall.

It’s so far away from civilization, so infrequently traveled that a name for this waterfall could not be found on the map. We saw it from several angles, including having seen it the prior day from the other side of the ridge to the south.

In life, it is natural to seek comfort. Being uncomfortable is not fun. Unfortunately, the prioritization of comfort and conveniences has denied many of us the most amazing experiences. Nothing on this trip was possible without a little bit of discomfort. However, while we did have one miserable evening, we did manage to avoid a second by springing for a hotel room in Monte Vista along the way down.

The Best Western Movie Manor is one of those unique hotels with a drive in movie, where visitors can actually watch a movie from their rooms, out the window. With this choice, we managed to avoid some discomfort without having it cost us any of the experiences we would have the next three days. Maybe it is possible to use our natural drive for comfort, but do so in a way that still recognizes that having the experience is the ultimate priority.

On Being Less “Numb”

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The modern world is such a paradox. We are more prosperous, more secure and more comfortable than ever before. Yet, we also seem anxious, depressed and generally dissatisfied. What is going on? What are we missing?

There is something about the modern wold that, at times, can just feel lacking. Days without any meaning. Activities we don’t truly experience. Conversations where everyone’s not really interested and never lead to a true connections. Activities we barely even remember doing. On bad days, it can feel like we have all turned into robots just trying to achieve metrics, numb to all emotions.

Numbness has been attributed to lot of things. Drugs. Alcohol. Certain psychological disorders. Deciding to be constantly be busy. Engaging in only surface level interactions. And, finally, being in a constant state of distraction. The consequences are dire. When we chose to numb ourselves to avoid negative emotions, particularly discomfort, we also deny ourselves positive emotions. We lose the ability to enjoy life.

Over the past month, what I have experienced is most easily described as the opposite of numbness. First, right after Thanksgiving, I returned to the all inclusive resort in Cancun I visited six years earlier.

It was a similar experience. Warmth. Beautiful sunrises over the Atlantic Ocean.

Activities by the beach and pool. And, like last time, I made friends with both the other guests of the resort and the staff that coordinated the activities. It ended up being a very emotional experience. Every day I would go to Spanish lessons.

And, I would regularly try to conduct conversations with the staff in Spanish. After several days, those that I had spoken to most started telling me how much they appreciated our conversations. They said that only about 5% of the guests that come to this resort even try to speak to them in Spanish. One of the employees even wrote a heartfelt note.

It was quite emotional and made me sad to leave. I often don’t feel appreciated in normal day-to-day life. It often feels like people are trying to mold me to adapt a certain set of opinions or maximize my output. Here, I felt appreciated for being myself; goofy, curious and friendly. I felt like I was leaving part of my heart in Mexico.

Then, I spent a week with family, with Christmastime in full swing in the Chicago metropolitan area.

The setting couldn’t be more different. I went from vacation back to performing my remote job. I went from sunshine and 86°F (30°C) warmth to clouds and temperatures near 40°F (3°C).

The source of appreciation this time came from little children; my nephew and niece, ages 7 and 5. There were activities and just quality time spent with family. One of them, due to the lack of snow was baseball. My nephew drew me a picture commemorating a moment we had in a backyard baseball game when I hit a grand slam and we did a grand slam dance.

Leaving this place was emotional as well. It feels good to feel appreciated. I wonder why we are often so bad at showing appreciation. I wonder why I am so bad at it. I spent most of my travel time between all of these destinations wishing that showing appreciation was something that just came more naturally.

Also, neither of these experiences were completely free of all the mechanisms attributed to numbness. At an all inclusive resort, plenty of alcohol was consumed.

This did not stop me from truly experiencing both nature and human connection in Cancun.

Time spent with family raising children is always quite busy.

But that did not stop me from being truly immersed in the activities.

What was common to both weeks is that life felt “full”, like I was generally truly experiencing connections with other humans, activities and the world around me. Whatever numbness is common in standard day-to-day life in 2022 was just not there. If we all have a kind of metaphysical door that opens us up to emotion and experience, both good and bad, mine was clearly open and despite the heartache of leaving both places after the weeks were over, it felt so much better than having it closed.

So, how can we escape this numbness that leads to all this dissatisfaction with life? One commonality to these two weeks is that they both involved significantly less “screen time”. When factoring in computers, smart phones and television, the average American spends over 12 hours per day (84 hours per week) in front of screens. These two weeks my time in front of screens was 12 and 34 hours respectively. I was also generally free of anxiety, tight timelines and other forms of negative stress. Perhaps, it is these two factors, constantly being distracted by notifications from our smartphones and/or stressed out by drama and tight timelines that keeps us emotionally numb. Perhaps, as problematic as dugs, alcohol and being constantly busy can be, the stress and constant distraction that prevents us from being truly present is the bigger issue right now.

Backpacking in Northern Colorado’s Rawah Wilderness Day 3: The Depth

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It was the morning I had been dreading. I knew it would be cold. Over the summer I had gotten so used to the heat it’s hard not to feel like a morning with temperatures near freezing would be an extremely uncomfortable shock to the body.

On days like this, it is hard not to wish to just stay in the tent until the sun comes out and has a chance to warm things up for a little bit.

Perhaps, had it not been the final day of the trip, with places to be the following day, this could have been a reasonable course of action. After all, while suffering is a part of life, there is no point in suffering just for the sake of suffering. Suffering needs to be done for some kind of reward, whether it be progress in life or the kind of beauty one beholds on a backpacking trip.

There will perhaps never be a situation in life that better demonstrates the value behind the concept of “layering” than the final downhill day of a backpacking trip. Layering was something I barely experienced growing up on Long Island where it was common to wake up on a winter’s morning with a temperature of 35°F (1°C) knowing the day will have a high temperature of 38°F (3°C). These final days backpacking, where we commonly descend around 1700 feet (500m) tend to follow the same pattern.

A cold start while descending down into dense forest, typically still wearing many layers.

They layers come off one by one, roughly every 45 minutes, followed by a kind of golden hour where the temperatures are ideal.

Since the hike is downhill, this is where typically a lot of progress is made. It also can be where we start to encounter other people more after days of solitude.

Then, typically by 11 A.M., it starts to feel a bit too warm.

Somewhere in here is where these experiences get the most introspective. At some point, everything that had previously occupied the mind goes away. All the food needed for the final miles of hiking has been eaten. All the water has been pumped. A further decent takes us away from landmarks such as alpine lakes and vistas of the mountain peaks. Two and a half days in nature had cleared the concerns of day to day life from our minds. All there is to do is walk the final few hours and get to the car.

I reflected on how much I had dreaded the cold morning on this trip. I reflected on how much I used to dread, in general, the thought of being in the wilderness with no option for shelter, not even a car to go to to potentially warm up or hide from wildlife.

In life we have tons of things we dread. People dread putting themselves out there, having difficult conversations, the less exciting work that has to be done and trying new things. Some people even dread leaving behind what they know they need to leave behind. However, in the end, we all get through these things, one way or another. We overcome the awkwardness of talking to new people when it needs to be done. We have that unpleasant conversation. We do that boring task and move on with our lives. Would our lives be better without these experiences? Maybe to a point. Still, it is hard to envision a life where there is nothing to dread… ever. It’s hard not to be doubtful that such a condition is even possible, given human nature. And, if it were to be possible, would this cause all things to lose meaning?

Backpacking in Northern Colorado’s Rawah Wilderness Day 2: Lakes and Moose

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Day 2 was the day I was not necessarily looking forward to. Weather predictions indicated a strong possibility that conditions will be cold and rainy for much of the day. When it comes to outdoor activities, conditions matter. What is fun and pleasant one day can be unpleasant another. This is part of the reason it is hard for outdoor enthusiasts not to obsess over the weather.

The morning was a tease. About half an hour after the sunrise, the fog that had spread across the area the prior afternoon appeared to be dissipating.

Only for it to return.

Leaving the campsite was like stepping into the unknown. In the wilderness, there is no access to weather reports. With how much the weather can vary from place to place, from minute to minute in areas with this type of terrain, there was no way to know how this day would play out. There’s little choice but to embrace the unknown.

These trips always seem to bring up thoughts of the past. Of a time when it was much harder to know what to expect. Of a time when there was no internet, no television. A time when the morning newspaper, or some other form of transmitted information was the only information anyone would have to go about their days. This was a time when embracing the unknown was the only option.

Often, the only way to embrace the unknown safely is to be knowledgable and prepared. We knew not to get too close to the moose we saw only about a mile into the hike, also wandering through the fog.

As we climbed, up towards tree line, towards a pass known as Grassy Pass, we actually walked away from the fog.

For the entirety of the morning, it was likely that the valley where we had camped the previous night was still in thick fog.

When we reached the pass that whose natural features were consistent with its name around 10 A.M., it suddenly appeared as if our time in the fog was actually done.

Anyone who spends a lot of time in the mountains knows how much the weather can vary from place to place due to the complexities of the terrain. But, how often do we see it right in front of us? One side of this pass was still engulfed in fog while the other was basking in sunshine.

Places like this are some of the last places where we can truly embrace something quite human. Here, there is no way to know exactly what to expect.

To know what is going to happen at a specific spot, given the wind direction and every small-scale geographic and terrain feature is pretty much impossible. Each cloud represents a small scale current of wind, a moisture profile and subtle differences in the land with so many components it becomes more of a headache than it is worth to try to determine how every minute of every hour is to play out.

In a world where so many lives have become orderly and predictable, trips like this force us to embrace variety and surprise. They force us to release control. Perhaps, after decades of chasing after inventions and policies designed to enable us to track every development, predict and control outcomes, this is exactly what the world needs.

The defining feature of this section of the trip was alpine lakes.

We passed several of them as we descended into another valley, some close, some far away.

We set up camp at Lower Camp Lake.

And hiked up to Upper Camp Lake.

By the way, when backpacking, one of the greatest feelings is setting down your pack and hiking with nothing on your back. Backpacks weight quite a bit and it is a relief just to walk, or exist in general, without all that additional weight.

That afternoon I was back at the camp site, looking at trees full of pine cones and incorrectly speculating that there were families of birds in them.

In this moment, it suddenly dawned on me that the weather I had been experiencing all afternoon, along the Rawah and Camp creeks, at elevations of around 10,800 ft. (3300 m), was very likely better than the weather back in Denver. The sun was shining and the temperatures were actually quite pleasant. It felt like it was around 60°F (15°C), likely warmer than what was occurring in Denver. Out of the embrace of uncertainty can come some truly beautiful experiences. Sometimes things can work out for the best even when it feels like they might not.

That evening would end with another moose sighting.

Followed by a full moon whose light reflected along the lake.

A chill came into the air as the sun went down, but we still laughed. Some of the laughter was indeed at my expense for thinking that all those pine cones in that one tree were actually birds. Still, the laughter, shared experiences and embracing uncertainty made this experience truly human.

Backpacking in Northern Colorado’s Rawah Wilderness Day 1: Bracing for the Weather

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The weather does not always cooperate. It does not always work out the way we hope it will to optimize our experiences. On the two days prior to this backpacking trip, the temperature reached 99°F (38°C) in Denver. During heat waves like this one, it is desirable to get up into the mountains.

However, the evening before the trip, a cold front came through, cooling temperatures at all elevations, and making the weather conditions a bit more variable in the mountains.

For the best possible combination of weather experiences, it would have been ideal for the heat wave to have lined up with the period of time we had already set aside for the trip, as opposed to the week before it. However, we can’t always get things like this to line up exactly with how we want them to. As long as we live in a world where we keep schedules and plan activities like this one around our other responsibilities (as opposed to just responding to conditions last minute) we will always have to contend with situations where things don’t line up as we had hoped.

The weather conditions were not even hazardous. It was actually pretty nice most of the day.

It was just not the ideal setup for us to have experienced a maximum amount of comfortable temperatures, something not worth getting too upset about. As has been the case with other backpacking trips, we were in a beautiful environment.

On this first day of the trip, while ascending along the West Branch trail, we unexpectedly encountered some large hoofed mammals, traveling alongside the few other hikers we encountered along the journey.

The Rawah wilderness is in the far northern part of Colorado. It’s part of the Southern Unit of the Medicine Bow- Routt National Forest. The northern part of this National Forest is in Wyoming.

The trail network here is generally well marked, which is reassuring on trips like these where going the wrong way can lead to some bad results.

After several miles on the West Branch Trail, we turned onto the Rawah Trail, to follow our loop. The trail began to ascend even faster.

When backpacking in this general region of the country, it is quite common for the first day to be the most challenging. Through the course of the day, we would climb a total of around 2,500 feet (760m). While climbing, we would first encounter a waterfall.

And finally got to where the surrounding mountain peaks began to appear.

Hikes in this region (Rocky Mountain National Park is actually only about 25 miles away) are generally full of alpine lakes. This one is no exception. Our final destination for the day was Twin Crater Lakes, two amazing alpine lakes tucked away in the mountains.

At this point the weather was actually close to perfect making for a pleasant afternoon.

We set up camp at a beautiful site in the trees about 3/4 of a mile down the creek from the lakes.

Overall, the day was relatively balanced. We hiked a total of about 9 miles (14.3 km), but were able to set up have camp set up by mid afternoon.

This gave us the time we needed to do the typical camping activities like set up a fire, pump water from the stream and cook dinner before dark without having to feel in a hurry in any way. It also balanced out the day a bit, giving us time to just hand out and be in nature.

My thoughts also felt quite balanced, possibly as balanced as they had been for a long time. I am guessing this is due to a combination of being away from the constant distractions of every day life, not being rushed, having the hike be exhausting but not too exhausting and recently reducing my exposure to news and certain topics that were making me unhappy.

Then, around 4 pm, the weather turned. Suddenly the forest looked like a spooky meadow where anything and everything could emerge from and vanish into the trees, much like the baseball players in A Field of Dreams. This was especially true as day gradually descended into night.

It was damp. None of us knew if it was going to rain. Thinking about the potentially unpleasant conditions brought back a feeling that I tend to get on many of these types of trips. It reminds me to appreciate the shelter we often take for granted, our homes with heating and air conditioning. It’s only relatively recently in the course of human existence we have had this. For almost all of the history of humanity, how comfortable we felt, and how challenging life was depended so much more on things like weather conditions and the cycles of the sun and moon. While it does not sound fun to go back to a world where we have to work harder to meet our basic necessities, sometimes I wish more of us could live our lives in manners that are more connected to these things.

Utah- A Place Like Nowhere Else

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Downtown Salt Lake City

Most of Utah’s population lives in a region referred to as the “Wasatch Front“, which is essentially the area from Ogden to Provo, including Salt Lake City, boxed out in red in the map below.

It’s a place I have not previously spent much time, as most of my prior Utah experience had centered around recreation destinations like Moab or Park City, or places I stop at on road trips. However, if you want to understand the culture of a place, it is usually good to visit where most people live.

My entire time in the Wasatch Front region of Utah, I felt this strange mix of feeling partially at home but partially kind of elsewhere. This is probably due to my suburban upbringing and current life in Colorado. Utah’s mountains are quite similar to the ones I visit all the time in Colorado.

Like where I live, the culture revolves quite a bit around hiking, with hikes to beautiful destinations like Stewart Falls.

And, because of the mountainous terrain, the weather can be variable, and the rainbows amazing.

Anywhere in this region, mountains can be seen in nearly all directions. It is also quite suburban. My basic assessment of the area is that it all feels as if they took Schamburg (a suburb of Chicago known for giant shopping malls, wide suburban roads, retail and restaurants) and dropped it into the middle of the mountains.

People will often try to approximate the culture of a place by considering some basic characteristics, such as region, demographics, political and religious affiliation. Utah’s political affiliation is pretty clear as it is a solidly Republican state. However, unlike in many other democracies, in the United States we only have two competitive parties. This makes how much you can truly tell about a place based on political affiliation pretty limited, mostly limited to certain “hot button” issues.

Utah is nothing like Alabama, and, as a New Yorker I learned early on that New York is very different from California.

What makes Utah more unique from nearly all other states is its religious affiliation.

Utah is the only state in the country that is majority Mormon. This gives the state a culture and a perspective that is unique from any other place, as some Christian groups don’t view them as Christian and see them as more different than, say, Catholics would view Protestants. This, and the state’s history, likely gives the place an interesting view of its place in the world.

It is customary for Mormons to go on missions when they are young. In Utah, it is common to hear “while I was on my mission” casually dropped into conversations. In these missions, many people travel to foreign lands and get exposed to other cultures.

As a result, there is much more exposure to other cultures here than one would typically associate with a “conservative” place. However, this exposure to other cultures and these types of experiences does not appear to have shifted the population in the direction of the post-modern sentiment that there is no absolute truth nor towards a nihilistic lack of pride in anything.

There may be limitations to my observations about the culture of Utah, given I was only here for a few days and primarily came to engage with my co-workers in a work setting.

However, it does feel like the people here are more confident and happier than most others I observe.

Hearing about some of these mission experiences it feels as if the Mormon population is well aware that, outside of Utah (and parts of Idaho, Wyoming, Nevada and Arizona), most people oppose what they believe in, some quite intensely. They’ve navigated being opposed and being hated in a manner that has strengthened their resolve in a manner that actually seems healthy.

I recall going to see “The Book of Mormon” years ago. The play pokes fun at the church a bit and was written by people who are generally skeptical of organized religion.

In the playbill, the Mormon church placed an advertisement that literally said “You’ve seen the play, the book is better.” This told me that this is a community that can take a joke.

Ultimately, what we are all looking for is to be happy.

Sometimes our approaches to happiness can be misguided. We pursue things that actually make us more unhappy, like drugs and alcohol. Or, we can become too obsessed with things that only facilitate happiness, like money and good looks. The formula for happiness is complicated because there is no one formula. We all need something different in our lives to truly be happy. If someone appears to be happy, and they are not harming anyone, why hate? Hate is so much more exhausting than love.

Mount Antero with my Siberian Husky

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The top of Mount Antero- 14,276 ft (4351.4 m)

To tackle Mount Antero, I spent the night in a hotel in Salida, a small town along the Arkansas River in Central Colorado known for summer fun. It’s within a short drive of the trailhead to several “14ers” (peaks 14,000 feet above sea level or higher). Salida’s probably best known for its water sports, with this stretch of the Arkansas River being one of the most common destinations for whitewater rafting.

Despite it being a Wednesday evening, the town was quite lively. Salida also has some affordable pet friendly hotels and plenty of restaurants where you can eat on the patio with your dog.

While most people who climb 14ers camp near the trailhead, I decided to pay for a hotel, primarily because I chose to take only one day off for the trip. My energy was needed for the exhausting hike and the three hour drive back to Denver.

The morning temperatures in Salida were in the low to mid 50s, slightly warmer than the long term averages for August (47°F, 8°C) and also the warmest start to a 14er I’ve ever had.

Getting to Mount Antero involves following a road called Chalk Creek Drive. It’s accessed off highway 24 halfway between Buena VIsta and Salida. The road passes by the Princeton Hot Springs and the Chalk Cliffs, and provides access to both Mount Antero and Mount Princeton.

The most unique thing about this hike is that most of it follows a “Jeep Road”. In fact, some people were able to drive most of the way to the top

When done right, it is best to start a 14er quite early in the day, before sunrise, which makes the appearance of the sun one of the first exciting exhibitions of the hike.

14ers are challenging climbs. This one is no exception. The total vertical climb was about 4,500 feet (1350 m), and it starts getting challenging pretty much right away.

After about a mile, there is a flatter part. Then, around the 2.5 mile mark, we encountered the first area of major concern for anyone bringing a dog on the hike, an area completely covered by rocks.

This is something anyone hiking with their dog needs to keep an eye on. Dogs paws blister over time but dogs do not always prepare for this possibility. They need to be either given booties to protect their feet or guidance on how to minimize their exposure to rocks starting pretty early on in the hike.

The trail up Mount Antero approaches the peak from the West side, meaning it takes longer for hikers to experience the sun in the morning.

We would get to tree line by 8:30 and enter the sun only shortly thereafter. Once tree line is reached, this hike becomes nothing short of absolutely breathtaking.

When hiking with dogs, especially challenging hikes like this one in dry climates, it is essential to keep them hydrated. For this, I not only bring water for my dog, but also allow my dog to drink from flowing creeks.

The key here is to only allow your dogs to drink from creeks that are flowing. Standing water could lead to Giardia.

Like every other 14er I’ve done, Mount Antero has two features that will drive most people to exhaustion.

First, a steep ascent to the top of some kind of ridge.

Then, a scramble to the top, over rocks.

I had hiked over seven miles before getting to the final scramble. With the exhaustion, challenging scramble and high elevation, I needed to take quite a few breaks on this final ascent to the top. This is perfectly normal.

The top of this mountain feels like being on top of the world. Countless other peaks were below me.

So was the Arkansas River Valley, where Buena Vista and Salida are.

We spent about half an hour at the top, enjoying the views, a little bit of food and some conversations with other hikers.

And, the descent was also quite beautiful.

Overall, it was an amazing day, but like most things that are truly amazing, it had to be earned. It had to be earned through the lengthy drive, proper preparation and physical exhaustion involved in climbing this much.

By the time I reached the end of the journey I realized that what was earned goes far beyond what could be captured in these photos. Sure, the areas below tree line were peaceful and the areas above tree line had spectacular views. But, the experience was also about a state of mind.

Since it was a Thursday, the trail was relatively empty. The few people I encountered kind of represented humanity at its best. Nobody was arguing over whatever topics people seem to be angry and divided over at the time. Even though some people were on the mountain to hike, others to ride their Jeeps and ATVs and others to mine gold or aquamarine. A couple of the people I encountered even helped me out by giving me and my dog a ride down the final few miles of the mountain when I was concerned about blisters on her paws. They stopped and talked to people they encountered, picked up litter from the road and had nothing but the most positive conversations about nature, camping, travel and music. The experience made me wonder if this is a reality we can create in our day to day lives, so long as we focus on the right things and earn it.

Frisco, One of My Favorite Mountain Towns, from a New Perspective

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Downtown Frisco, CO May 23, 2022

There are many ways we travel and many reasons we travel. In retrospect, it seems rather silly that when I was a child, people used to lump all travel into two categories; business and leisure. Leisure travel, previously defined as anything other than travel for work, can take on many forms. We travel to visit friends and family. We travel to see specific destinations. We travel for specific activities. Having lived in the Midwest for a lot of year, I am more than familiar with travel to escape the winter and other bad weather.

The great thing about all these modes of travel is that it is possible to visit the same place many times and have completely different experiences.

Frisco is unique in that it is situated near many of Colorado’s best ski resorts.

Yet, unlike Breckenridge or Vail, the town is not the site of a ski resort. Therefore, winter in Frisco is active but not in the same way these ski resort towns are. Still, there are a lot of people out and about. It is easily the most active time of the year in Frisco (except, maybe when a major snowstorm closes the highways).

Summer also tends to be active. The area is a great place to escape the summer heat and take part in activities like enjoying the mountains from the seat of a bicycle.

The morning of May 23, 2022, for perhaps the first time ever, I saw Frisco extremely quiet.

There was nobody walking around. The experience reminded me of the few times I would wake up before 8 A.M. on a Sunday while living in Chicago. It was the only time I saw a city that was always crowded and noisy quiet and calm. This place was quiet and calm because the activities that drew visitors all weekend had come to an end while the weather had yet to improve enough for many of the outdoor activities that draw summer visitors. There were low clouds.

Fog, and even a little bit of snow.

It was enough to make Frisco quiet, even when the sun would peak out for a little bit.

It was even enough to make the typically even busier Breckenridge feel rather calm.

The conversations were different too. People I would encounter around town were not reflexively asking questions like “where are you in town from” and “how long are you here.” Instead, I was asked to identify a bird and about trail conditions. In a way, I was seeing the place the way the “locals” see it. Still, it made me wonder….

  • Do locals only get to act like locals, in the open like this, a few months out of the year, in between seasons?
  • Or is there a secret set of places they go during the more active seasons, particularly from December through early April?
  • What’s it like growing up in a place like this, not knowing that most people don’t live places constantly crawling with tourists?

On this trip, I also got to see more of Frisco. Most of my previous trips to Frisco primarily involve being on Main Street.

It is the face of the town. But, on this trip I spent a little bit of time in some of the other, more residential areas of town.

I saw where the creek flows between houses.

I even saw where they were in the process of building a new recreational trail.

Frisco is one of those towns with hiking trails right on the edge of town. Residents and visitors alike can just walk up to a hiking trail and climb a mountain. I did this twice during my off-season visit to Frisco. On the other side of I-70, there is the North Tenmile Trail, a hike that follows the Tenmile Creek into the Eagles Nest Wilderness.

There is the far steeper hike up Mount Royal on the south side of town.

This mountain is impossible to miss. It is quite likely that for most, the idea of hiking up this mountain feels quite intimidating. The hike is steep right from the start and is steep the whole way.

However, it leads to amazing overlooks of I-70, the Tenmile Canyon (just west of Frisco) and a whole new perspective on the town of Frisco.

On previous visits to Frisco, I experienced Frisco how tourists experience it. I saw the bus to the ski resorts. I heard conversations about vacations, time shares, flights and favorite slopes, shops and restaurants. This May, nearly a decade after discovering this town, I finally experienced it more like a local, slowing down a bit and adjusting for things that almost never happen during the busy season, like restaurants being closed on Mondays and Tuesdays and full days without any activities.

Places Extroverts Love

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It’s been hard to know what to expect the last two years. First, places that are typically lively, full of people, full of life, suddenly became empty as the pandemic shut down businesses and places of gathering.

Then, for nearly two years, our experiences became variable and inconsistent.

It felt like the whole world was suddenly subject to mood swings that are impossible to explain or predict. Maybe we are still in this period of uncertainty, but I was pleasantly surprised by the energy levels on my last two trips.

The last weekend in March, Moab was quite lively.

The town was busy! There were a lot of people out and about, walking around and having experiences. Traffic actually made it quite a challenge to make a left hand turn. People all seemed lively. The energy was just great!

The same can be said of Chicago a couple of weeks later.

The energy, the spirit of the big city could once again be felt both on a Thursday evening with horrible weather and a Saturday night with better weather. There were a lot of people, out in groups, in the bars, as well as along the street where there is typically a lot of nightlife. It felt good just to know these places are back!

These places could hardly be any any different. Chicago is a city of 2.75 million with many skyscrapers and what can seem like endless unique neighborhoods to explore.

People who visit come for a truly urban experience, doing things like going to museums, summer festivals, professional sports or visiting friends and family.

Moab, by contrast, is a town with barely over 5,000 residents adjacent to two National Parks.

Most of the people one would encounter here are tourists who came to explore the outdoors. Moab is known for Jeeping, mountain biking and hiking among other activities.

These settings, while different, warmed my heart in a similar way. There is something about seeing people out and about, interacting with each other, interacting with the world, and doing so in a way that feels joyous. It is the combination of joy and crowds that extroverts have missed so much over the past couple of years.

These recent experiences have demonstrated that there are often multiple ways to obtain the same underlying feeling, and maybe it is a good idea not to get too attached to one specific experience. There are often circumstances that require versatility. Sometimes the weather is not what we were hoping for.

Other times it’s our schedules, our health, someone else’s needs or just plain bad luck.

When this happens it is helpful to know that sometimes a different experience, but one that is feasible given whatever our circumstance is can be a really good substitute, providing almost the exact same underlying feeling we are looking for. So far this spring, I have been in lively joyous crowds both in a tourist destination surrounded by people on vacation and in a large city surrounded mostly by people who live there. Next time we find ourselves disappointed by not getting the exact thing we want, maybe we should try to think about the underlying reason we wanted it and try to find another path.