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Buried in Crested Butte

There is such thing as too much of a good thing; too much food, too much exercise, even too much water! While stories about people dying of water poisoning do exist, most people will experience dehydration, or too little water, many times throughout their lifetime. Few people experience hyponatremia, or water poisoning. So, health advocates rightly focus on advising the population to drink enough water.

The same can be said of snowfall in towns like Crested Butte, Colorado. Like many ski towns, Crested Butte’s livelihood is at least partially dependent on receiving ample snowfall to produce good ski conditions. So, it is rare to actually hear people in a town like this say that the wish for the snow to stop. But, that is exactly what happened, after the town received close to 100 inches of snow (half their annual total) in a ten day period. In fact, at one point, the ski resort actually had to close due to too much snow! In a way, this is like the ski resort version of water poisoning.

After a couple of quiet days, 2017 has begun on a crazy note for the Western United States. A steady stream of storms, transporting moisture from the Tropical Pacific Ocean directly into the California Coast, transformed a drought stricken state into a deluge of floods and swollen rivers in only a few days!

These storms followed similar tracks eastwards, producing heavy precipitation in parts of Colorado, Idaho, Utah, and Wyoming. For the first two weeks of 2017, Crested Butte received close to eight times their normal precipitation amount!

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By Friday the 13th, the snow had slowed down, but hadn’t stopped.

Over Martin Luther King Day weekend, each day the weather followed a similar pattern. Light snow would fall overnight, providing a few inches of new snow, and would linger into the morning.

This would be followed by somewhat of a fuzzy period, where the sun appeared to be trying to come out, but fighting some kind of battle against low clouds which would reduce visibility on some parts of the mountain.

This is a battle that the sun would eventually win after an hour or two of these in between conditions.

Crested Butte provides an interesting ski experience. By size, it is significantly smaller than places like Snowmass, Steamboat, and Copper Mountain.

However, all different types of skiing can be found here, from groomers (although, with limited visibility for much of the day, conditions were not quite optimal for those true speed demons out there) to glades and bumps of all different kinds, sizes and steepness.

For advanced skiers and boarders, Mount Crested Butte is a must do! It is possible to hike all the way to the top of Crested Butte’s signature mountain. However, the Silver Queen Express lift provides access to all but the uppermost 287 feet of this peak.

The journey down the mountain starts out wide open, but eventually winds through a series of challenging glade (dense tree) areas, both pine and aspen.

Gazing back at the mountain, I felt as if I had just skied down something from one of those extreme sports videos that is often shown in loops at ski shops promoting the Go Pro camera, or at some film event.

Crested Butte markets itself as having small crowds and short lift lines. This was definitely true on Friday. However, Saturday, the crowds began to build, and lift lines, uncharacteristic of Crested Butte, built fast. At one point we ended up waiting 25 minutes in a lift line.

The combination of the extreme snowfall at this particular mountain, and the holiday weekend (MLK Day) likely drew an unprecedented number of visitors to the resort. Smaller, out of the way mountains like this one probably typically do have short lift lines. But, with less capacity than some of the bigger resorts, increases in traffic on exceptional weekends like this one can increase wait times at lifts quicker.

Geographically, Crested Butte has a different setup that many other ski areas.

Unlike places like Breckenridge and Park City, where the town is directly adjacent to the ski resort, the main area of town is actually roughly six miles from the resort.

The settlement adjacent to the ski resort, which consists primarily of lodging, is referred to as Mount Crested Butte.

This setup works out a lot better than one would expect. We stayed at the Grand Lodge, which is nearly adjacent to the base area lifts.

The Lodge offers spacious rooms that contain amenities like refrigerators, microwaves, a hot tub and a spa. There is a restaurant on the main floor of the hotel and several other eating options at the base of the mountain, which is only a two minute walk away. Those who prefer to relax in the evenings can stay nearby.

For those that want evening activities, there is a free shuttle from the base of the ski mountain into town, where there is plenty going on.

Walking along Elk Avenue, the main road in town, plenty of people can be found, going to bars, restaurants, shops, events and festivals. Based on all of the posters, window decals, pamphlets and signs everywhere, there seems to always be some kind of event going on in town.

Crested Butte can also be described as “artsy”. Saturday evening’s artwork was highly recommended by local residents. In the vicinity of 3rd and Elk, it felt as if every third or fourth building was some kind of an art gallery partaking in the artwalk. In fact, the large amount of snow piled between the sidewalk and the road provided one artist with the opportunity to gaze upon the town, and paint it, from a slightly different perspective.

Crested Butte was at both its best and worst this weekend. The snow conditions were amazing, and temperatures were actually quite comfortable the entire time. However, the capacity, both with regards to the ski lifts, and for the town to remove snow from streets, buildings, and cars, was overloaded.

Still, people went about their business, created and sold their artwork, partied in the hot tubs and at the bars, and kept a smile on their faces. After this weekend, an accurate description of what a “normal” weekend in Crested Butte is like cannot be provided. But, we don’t travel looking for “normal”. We travel for an experience. One that is different from what our day to day lives are. This holiday weekend in Crested Butte was definitely a unique experience, due to the place that we visited as well as the exceptional conditions.

An All-Inclusive Week At Cancun’s El Dorado Royal

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Day 1: Every time I land in another country, something feels different. I had this feeling when I first landed at the airport in Cancun, despite the fact that much of my surroundings were remarkably similar to what I experience at home. As is the case at many U.S. airports, the airport signs are written in both English and Spanish, with the English words on top. Even the mix of people didn’t feel too terribly different from many places around Colorado where I live. It was the little differences I observed; some different looking buildings, speed limits in kilometers per hour, and the driver of the van that took us to the resort from the airport trying to sell us Coronas (or Mexican water, as he said) that made me feel as if I had actually traveled to a place that is different than the place where I live and the places where I spend most of my time.

We arrived at the resort in the middle of the afternoon. A resort this size takes a little bit of time to become acquainted with, as it has multiple sections, with different types of travelers having different types of experiences, a whole bunch of pools, and a ton of restaurants. One of the great things about being at an all inclusive resort is the fact that, once guests arrive at the resort, everything, particularly food and drink, is taken care of. This is good because I arrived hungry. It would be the last time I would really experience hunger for the duration of the week.

Day 2: Like most Americans, a majority of my travel involves an itinerary of some sorts. This makes the transition from what is referred to as the “real world” to the world of that particular voyage seamless. The normal day-to-day concerns, work, schedules, responsibilities, etc. are replaced by the schedule- the itinerary of the trip. Today I have meetings at 9,10, and 11, and a document that needs to be finalized by the end of the day transitions smoothly to tonight we are staying at this hotel, they have a continental breakfast, than we’re gonna get to this attraction by 10:30-ish.

On this vacation, there was no itinerary; at least not at first. There was just enjoying the weather, enjoying the beach, the pool, the activities, and a week off of not just work but many other sources of stress, such as chores, social situations, etc. This often leads to a gradual process of letting go. Over the course of roughly 36 hours these concerns gradually slip out of the mind, to be replaced, miraculously, with nothing! I bet there are some people that do not even know what that feels like anymore.

Day 3: I decided I wanted to go the full day without taking any pictures. Now that the process of disconnecting from the “real world” was complete, it was a good time to live in the moment, and, not think about anything else, not even what I would write in this blog! It was on this day that two of the things that typically happen during longer resort trips happened.

First, I actually started to settle into a quazi-routine. El Dorado Royale offers a lot of activities, activities I more or less took advantage of. At 8 A.M., there was yoga on the pier. 9 A.M. Spanish lessons. 11:00 volleyball. 12:00 Aqua-aerobics.

Since guests do not need to cary around money, ID, and such at an all-inclusive resort, these resorts can offer amenities such as swim up bars. We found ourselves, after the noon Aqua-aerobics, swimming up to the bar to have some drinks in the pool. And since I was typically eating breakfast a bit later (10 A.M.), an hour or so of drinks would then be followed by lunch, and then the day’s afternoon activities, which varied a bit more day-to-day.

Day 3 was also when I began to make vacation friends; other tourists who had also managed to disconnect from their “real world” concerns, and had been drinking and enjoying themselves in the pool.

The resort has a lot of great restaurants, but their signature restaurant is one called Fuentes. This restaurant is a dinner show, with a famous chef that demonstrates how each course is cooked while serving the food. The dinner and cooking demonstration lasted two and a half hours. Each course featured food from a different region of Mexico. It was not just a meal, but also lessons about both geography and cooking technique.

Every evening at El Dorado Royale, there is a show. It typically starts at around 9:45 and lasts about an hour. This is followed by dancing. I found the meal/cooking demonstration exhausting! I ended up electing to skip the dancing, calling it a night earlier than I typically do.

Day 4: A strange thing started happening on the fourth day. Each day, I got drunker than the last. On this day, after noon Aqua-aerobics, I took multiple shots at the swim up bar, and then took part in tequila tasting. Yet, my hangovers were not getting any worse. In fact, they were getting easier. It was like I was hitting some sort of groove, which also involved the consumption of alcohol.

Also, having taken advantage of the 9:00 Spanish lessons, and through some conversation with the resort’s staff, whose company I truly enjoyed this week, I was suddenly getting back into the groove speaking Spanish. Those that do not know Spanish could easily get by at this resort, as nearly all of the staff speaks English. But, the lessons ended up being a great opportunity to speak Spanish with some native speakers and recover some lost knowledge. By the end of the 4th day, I was instinctively starting to blurt out phrases such as “querimos jugar al volleyball por la playa ayer, per due demaciado ventido”.

Day 5: This day began to feel like the apex of the trip. By the middle of the day I had made a good number of vacation friends, I was given two different nicknames by the other guests at the resort; “Denver” after where I am from (as it is hard to remember a lot of names), and “Maya Riviera”, after a rainbow colored drink that the resort offers. It is a very sweet beverage, but I still managed to drink a ton of them. In fact, one of my favorite things to do was to bring this drink under this fountain in the center of the pool, and drink it feeling as if I could not be doing anything more tropical at that particular moment.

I also got accustomed to some of the other specifics about taking this kind of worry free vacation. One which tragically took too long for me to adjust to is the proper application of sun screen. Unfortunately, I got quite burnt over the course of this trip.

The other is something I wish I could do more of in normal daily life. In most situations, when eating at restaurants, it is most cost effective to order one item. Without such concern, most meals involved multiple items of food. Additionally, the portion sizes at El Dorado Royale are such that it is typically possible to eat 4 or 5 course meals. The resort has two Italian restaurants. Traditional Italian meals involve an antipasto (appetizer), a soup, a primo (first, which usually involves pasta or risotto), and a secondi (second, usually a pice of meat of some kind). Here, there was absolutely no reason not to order one of each.

At the end of the evening, though, I got slowed down again, this time by heart burn. Apparently, there is a limit, as well, it had been quite some time since I had drank five days in a row, and I do not plan on becoming a “functioning alcoholic”.

Day 6: The previous early night made it easy to wake up in time to watch the sun rise over the ocean. As someone who lives in a land locked city, this is something I try to do, if possible (last time it wasn’t), any time I am on the East Coast.

The early start changed my routine up a little, but this turned out to be another fabulous day of activities, both in the pool and by the beach (beach volleyball). I even amazed myself with my confidence levels. Mexico has a warm place in my heart for this reason. When I was younger, I had a very poor self image, and low confidence levels. Then I got a part time job working at a restaurant, where most of the staff was (still is) Mexican. I achieved my first real boost in confidence at the age of 16 when I was welcomed and appreciated by that community. I thought about that experience, as once again in Mexico, I was feeling welcomed and appreciated, by the other guests as well as the resort’s staff.

But, I knew the “real world” would find a way to make a comeback. At the start of this trip, I made a conscious decision to take a true holiday and stay away from reading about, taking about, or thinking about two things; work and current events. Those were the two things that had been most likely to cause me angst over the past few months, and my mind needed a holiday from that way more than my body needed any kind of rest. However, I did start to become curious when I saw a newspaper that reported that the president-elect had selected a treasury secretary. I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant, even though I was wanting to not think at all about that stuff.

It’s also all but inevitable that something will happen over the course of a trip like this that will trigger a concern from “normal life”. After all, these concerns do not go away, they are just temporarily out of one’s thoughts, and if something triggers it, the mind will come to the realization that there’s concerns will have to be addressed upon return. This is more likely to happen to closer one gets to the end of their vacation. Luckily for me, this was just a brief moment in a week that otherwise felt amazing!

Day 7: Sometimes it can be a real challenge to enjoy the last day of a trip. Everything I am doing, I have been enjoying all week, and know it is the last time. We all know it’s best not to think about this, but, it is inevitable. It ended up being the perfect day for a side excursion.

El Dorado Royale offers a lot of side excursions, for an extra charge. These include activities as simple as jet skiing to the more involved (and more expensive) voyage to the Mayan Ruins. This is what is not part of the all-inclusive aspect of the resort. It doesn’t cost any extra money to play volleyball, go to the batting cages, or take part in one of the many other activities, but it does cost for excursions like deep sea fishing, or swimming with the dolphins.

It’s possible to have a great week without doing any of these extra cash, but we finally decided to go parasailing, on the last day, which is one of the quickest excursions available. With this excursion, we kind of got a two-for-one, as it both started and ended with a short ride on a jet ski to get to the boat.

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The activity ended up being one of my favorite parts of the whole trip. It is surprisingly easy. Some would see how high in the air para sailors gets done be intimidated by the activity. I honestly expected to have to use a bit more energy holding on to the rope that attaches me to the sail. But, it is actually quite safe, and is possible to let go of the ropes and just enjoy the ride. It was a particularly spectacular view of the coast from several hundred feet in the air.

Due to the sunburn and travel, my body is exhausted. My mind is neither exhausted nor refreshed. But, my spirit is refreshed in a way it has not felt in quite some time. The question now is, how to bring that spirit with me back home and keep it as long as I can.

The Longest Day Hike of My Life

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Conundrum Hot Springs

The hike from the Conundrum Trailhead to Conundrum Hot Springs is roughly 8.5 miles. Round trip is at least 17 miles of hiking. I say AT LEAST as I have been on plenty of hikes where side excursions, both planned and unplanned, lead to covering a total distance that exceeded the official distance of the hike.

Due to the distance, and the destination, nearly all the people we encountered on this hike were backpacking. This is an attractive option, as the trail is pretty long but not terribly challenging, and the hot springs are the kind of destination one would want to spend a significant amount of time at. However, Conundrum Hot Springs is a popular destination, and there are limited camping sites in the immediate vicinity of the springs.

Conundrum Hot Spring is close to Aspen, which is three and a half hours from Denver. Some of the people in our group, myself included, were not able to leave early enough on Friday for us to be confident that we could secure a camping spot. We ended up deciding to find a campground somewhat close to the trailhead, and hike to and from the springs as a day hike. As an added bonus, we would not have to bring, or carry nearly as much equipment, as we would be “car camping”. The hike would be both easier and harder. We would not be carrying nearly as much weight, but we would be cramming 17 miles of hiking into one day.

Up in the mountains of Central Colorado, trees change color earlier in the Fall than they do in many other parts of the Country. In general, the second half of September, and maybe the first few days of October, is the best time to see the Aspen trees here change colors. I was partially surprised by how vibrant the colors were, by September 16th. For the first two hours or so of the drive, before sunset, we saw a preview of the kind of colors we’d be seeing during the hike, certainly early season, but vibrantly colorful, with sections of bright yellows and oranges periodically appearing in front of us.

To be sure we would have enough time, we had to wake up, eat breakfast and leave the campground at Lincoln Creek (dispersed camping roughly 40 minutes from the trailhead) all before sunrise. We arrived at the trailhead and started hiking at roughly 15 minutes after 7 A.M.

The morning chill was both an obstacle and a boost. Overnight temperatures dropped to roughly 30F (-1C) at the campground. For the first 90 minutes of the hike, the ground was covered in frost. In fact, the frost even made our first river crossing a bit slippery.

This morning cold made me cary several layers, adding a little bit to the weight of my backpack (although it was still way, way, lighter than it would have been had we been backpacking). However, the cold weather motivated us to begin our hike at a rapid pace.

We would cover over four miles before we even reached the sun!

I would describe at least the first five miles of the hike as “easy” from the standpoint of evolution gain.

Many sections of the trail are actually close to perfectly flat, giving me plenty of time to take in the natural beauty that is around me, and also connect with my friends who I was hiking with. When hiking, it is challenging to have a conversation when hiking up steep terrain, but fairly easy to do so in largely flat sections.

The appearance of small lakes precludes the transition to the more challenging part of the trail.

This occurs somewhere around six and a half miles into the hike. First of all, there are sections that are more technically challenging, including a couple of tricky creek crossings, and a section where one must scramble over rocks.

There last two miles of the trail also includes some fairly steep sections. I wouldn’t say they are overly challenging, but in the context of a 17 mile day that included hiking at a rapid pace towards the beginning, they ended up being fairly exhausting.

We ended up spending roughly two hours at the hot springs (including changing and eating lunch). There were a lot of people in the hot springs, but it was not as crowded as some of us had feared.

For a variety of reasons, the fall colors appeared even more magnificent on the way back down! The most significant reason had to be the manner in which the trees appeared in the mid-afternoon sun.

I was also pleasantly surprised to see a significant amount of deep orange shades. In prior experience with fall in the Rockies, I had almost exclusively seen the yellow shade that seems to be the most common fall color for Aspen trees. While “autumn gold” is pretty, I had, in some ways, missed wide variety of shades that leaves on maple trees take on during fall.

I would definitely describe the color we enountered as “early season”. There were still many Aspen trees primarily shaded green, particularly at lower elevations. This indicates that the next two weekends could be just, or perhaps even more, colorful! The colorful trees, the yellows and the oranges, tended to be those higher up. The several patches of deep shaded orange I saw were nearly exclusively up closer to the tree line.

Both the hike up to the hot springs and the return trip took roughly four hours.

We got back to the trailhead sometime just after 5 P.M., and, after the 40 minute drive back to Lincoln Creek, I finally got to see what the campground looked like. And I got to do something I had not previously done. I got to park my car with the rear left tire on top of a rock, showing off just how rugged my vehicle is. Well, at least in an auto show pamphlet sort of way.

Capping off an exhausting day was a side excursion, to a waterfall, well, multiple waterfalls, that those of us in our group lucky enough to be able to leave early Friday had located roughly a quarter of a mile from the campground. In fact, they hyped this place up over the course of the hike. So, we had to go. Additionally, this side excursion was enough for me to achieve something meaningless, but also something I am likely never again to achieve. I recorded 50,000 steps on that step counter thing that comes with every iPhone6. Yay me!

We would explore this likely unnamed waterfall area again Sunday morning before departing for Denver.

If you count all the places where water squirts out of random places in the rock, there are probably close to a dozen “waterfalls” in this area. What a great unexpected treat!

The return trip on Sunday was eventful as well, with some great stops at Independence Pass and Twin Lakes, both places I had driven by on Friday, but after the sun had already set.

I titled this blog “The Longest Day Hike of My Life”, as, well, I can not picture a day where I hike more than 17 miles on a day trip. However, I probably would have never imagined hiking 17 miles in one day a few years back, so there is no way to definitively say never. I am prepared, though, for this to be my longest hike, and understand the significance of it. Like many of the adventures I had over the course of this summer, and in previous years, it was both exhausting and amazing. But, most worthwhile experiences, from relationships to starting successful businesses and such, are. Being exhausted after this experience should be a reminder to all of us that what is easiest is often the least rewarding, and that which is most challenging often comes with the greatest reward.

Pure Magic

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Las Vegas, Nevada! Magical!

While I am not sure everyone agrees, it is one of those rare situations where, at least from my perspective, one word can be used to sum up a place.

The word magic itself can be a tricky one to pin down. Most people think of magicians pulling rabbits out of hats. Some people think about some kind of supernatural force, something that cannot be explained by science and logic, which, for many, has a negative connotation.

To me, magic is the power to transform. No illusions are necessary, nor are any supernatural powers (although, as an open minded individual I will not rule them out). I find it “magical” anytime a specific situation has the power to transform something into something else, regardless of whether anything that can be considered supernatural is involved. Magic can occur in the standard magician situation, like when one sits there wondering how the four of hearts suddenly became a mountain goat. But, it can also happen when someone meets a new person, when a rainbow suddenly appears, or when a new experience leads to people viewing the world a different way. All of these “transformations” occur well within the realm of what can physically be explained by either science or logic.

As soon as I set foot in Las Vegas, I see a world transformed into something completely different.

Paris is a mile from New York, and just across the street from Caesar’s Palace. Less than a mile up the road is Treasure Island.

Suddenly midnight is “early”, and 3 A.M. is not too particularly “late”.

Money transforms from paper into little round discs. Suddenly, $5 is a “nickel”, and $25 is a “quarter”.

People are suddenly willing to take on all sorts of risks they’d otherwise be unable to fathom.

And, those weighing over 350 pounds, most likely typically shamed in their day-to-day life, can eat for free at a place called the Heart Attack Grill!

When I think of the people I talk to, or have talked to on a regular basis, I would say that Las Vegas appeals to roughly 2/3 of the population. I do frequently encounter people who tell me they have no interest in visiting Vegas. It is, after all, somewhat of a hyperbole for a certain aspect of adult life, particularly young adult life, that is wild and unrestricted, but also potentially destructive in multiple ways.

Vegas got its start as a gambling destination. Gambling is still probably the first thing anyone would think of when the think of Las Vegas.

Gambling in Las Vegas can be a number of different types of experiences. There are plenty of different kinds of games and plenty of different kinds of experiences, from the fancier resorts, like Aria and the Wynn, to more affordable places like Casino Royale and Circus Circus.

Those that prefer lower stakes can opt for a change of pace at the Freemont Street Experience. This was the original Las Vegas, and some of these casinos, right in the heart of what is considered Downtown Las Vegas, a few miles north of the strip, are among the first ones developed here in the middle part of the 20^th Century.

The pedestrian mall in some ways is reminiscent of similar streets in other major cities. The street almost becomes a non-stop party, with attractions, tons of places to drink (and in this case gamble), and areas where stages are commonly set up for bands to play.

My primary gambling mode is, and probably always will be, table games, usually black jack or craps. On this particular trip, I found my sweet spot at places that fit somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, such as the Flamingo, Cromwell, Ballys and Treasure Island.

But Vegas is more than gambling. In fact, there are plenty of visitors that come and do very little gambling, preferring to spend their time at the clubs, at pools, shopping, or taking part in another activity altogether.

The common thread to everything that goes on here is that people are enjoying themselves, embracing their wild sides, in their own way, and letting go of at least some component of the restriction they live under during their normal lives, even if it’s as simple as piling up large amounts of foods that do not typically “go together” at a buffet.

As a single entity, Vegas makes me think of what it would be like to live in a movie, or on some natural version of a drug high. Everything feels more significant. The dull parts are cut out. There is no doing laundry, ironing shirts or anything like that. Heck, even sleeping is reduced. Decorations and shows appear everywhere in a manner that stimulates all five senses until they are overloaded.

I’d say the “real world” (however you want to define it) is not magical, but whose fault is that? Could I be missing the “magic” that does occur on a day-to-day basis? As people become entrepreneurs, find new relationships, have the courage to leave bad relationships, discover who they truly are, and go on life changing trips. Could I be failing to take the opportunities to create “magic” when they present themselves? When someone needs help, when someone has an idea, or when a truly splendid rainbow appears in the sky, just begging me to stop what I am doing, forget whatever my mind is currently fixated on, and just allow myself to take in the experience.

The truth is, with a good enough imagination, enough confidence, and a willingness to act, any place can be “magical”. But, whenever I lose sight of that, I know I can always go back to Vegas to reconnect with it.

Backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness: Day 3

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The Weminuche Wildreness appeared to be particularly devastated by the recent Mountain Pine Beetle epidemic. While a portion of the second day was spent above the tree line and in storms for much of the journey, we wound our way in and out of the forest, alternating between hiking through the forest itself, and hiking across an open meadow where we could gaze upon the forest to both our left and our right.

Throughout the State of Colorado, and throughout the West, I observe areas where the Pine Beetles have decimated the forest, changing the ecosystem forever. Nowhere, though, have I seen a higher concentration of dead trees. I would estimate that, over the course of the trip, some 70-75% of all the pine trees I saw, were, in fact, dead.

But I did notice some signs of life, particularly at the campground Sunday (Day 3) morning. Tucked away amongst the densely pack forests of decimated trees, little signs of life seemed to appear. It reminded me of many American cities, circa 1982, decay being the overarching theme but, signs of life and pockets of hope beginning to appear here and there for those willing to observe. Maybe indeed, the worst has now passed for this particular forest. As was the case for many of our cities, it is possible that in a decade or so, we will revisit areas like this, and see once again a thriving forest, albeit, as was the case with our cities, with a different character?

As is typically the case on a three day excursion like this one, the last day was primarily a descent. As we descended, we quickly reached elevations where Aspens, rather than Pine trees made up a significant proportion of the forest.

Maybe it is different at this latitude, farther South than the Denver area, where I live and spend most of my time. But, it feels as if in this wilderness, Aspen trees are able to grow at some pretty high elevations.

We figured out the tree line here to be somewhere close to 12,000 feet in elevation. When looking upon sections of forest from afar like this, it is easy to picture some of these Aspen trees living at elevations close to 11,00 feet. Over the course of my four years in the Denver area, I had grown accustomed to them disappearing between 9,000 and 10,000 feet.

Sunday’s hike was a 7.3 mile trek along the Ute Creek trail (the East Ute Creek trail we had followed the previous day merged with the main Ute Creek trail). The trail alternated a bit, climbing up and out of the valley formed by the creek for some sections, and descending back toward the creek for others. Due to the previous night’s onslaught of rain, which likely impacted the entire valley, the trails on this, the final day, were at times even muddier than the were the prior two days. At the end of three days, our total distance came out around 25 miles. I speculated as to whether the extra distance we traveled stepping around puddles, and veering left and right to avoid some of the muddiest sections of trail, over the course of three days made this a mile or so longer than it would have been had the trails been completely dry.

I personally added some distance on top of that. I love side excursions, whether hiking/backpacking, cycling, or on a road trip. And, in addition to the side excursion to the feature known as “the window” the previous day, I took one completely on my own the final day. Roughly halfway through the hike, I saw a place where I could cut down to the creek, and see a mini-waterfall.

The final part of the day consisted of a small climb out of the Ute Creek valley, followed by a descent back towards the Rio Grande Reserviour.

It is inevitable that, on the last day of any trip, we all begin to ponder our return home, and a return to our “normal lives”, whatever they may be. This return, though, is somewhat unique, as a trip into the woods is not just a journey away from our jobs, or certain responsibilities, it feels more like a complete separation from the modern world, or as some people refer to it, the “real world”. All of us were separated, not just from work, but from TV, from the news, from Twitter, and even the manner in which society is structured in the 21st Century.

Since my return to Denver was a return to, after being completely separated from, the “real world”, I started to contemplate the “real world” as one big entity, which, even for a big-picture abstract curious minded thinker like me, turned out to be strange. I feel like we often compartmentalize the “real world” into buckets; the working world, the relationship world, the school world, etc. We will write blogs, have conversations, confide in others about our hardships, or celebrate our successes, with respect to one specific bucket of the “real world” at a time. Some people will even chose to accept or rebel against the modern world on a bucket-by-bucket basis. “I’m a freelancer, happily married with two kids and a picket fences house.” “I work 9-to-5 for a large corporation, but I only eat organically certified food.”

I’m not saying there is anything wrong with any of the partially-rebellious lifestyles I am describing here. We often try to oversimplify the actions and lifestyles of others as being either “conformist” or “rebellious”. When I thought about life in the woods, and the few people that actually do it, live off the grid, and off the land, I think of those people as “rebellious”. But, then I thought of human beings as part of the animal kingdom, and thought about what all non-domesticated animals do. They live in the woods. They hunt their food, many wandering around nomadically. When thought of in that manner, it is us human beings, and our domesticated cats and dogs, that are rebelling against the way the rest of the animal kingdom works by farming our food and setting up permanent shelters.

At the conclusion of our journey, we had to actually wade across the Rio Grand River to get to the car, as the trail ended abruptly at the river. This likely explained why we did not see any other people the entire time we were on the East Ute Creek and Ute Creek trails yesterday and today.

Shortly after leaving the trailhead, I saw what looked like baby mule deer living along the steepest part of the hill.

Like the journey to the Wilderness, the journey home took us by some of Colorado’s highest peaks and most stunning mountainous features. I thought of the “real world” I was gradually re-entering, the life I live and the journey I just took. It is not important whether we are “conforming” or “rebelling”, because, like life in the woods, it can be thought of as conformist or rebellious depending on perspective.

Those of us that are honest with ourselves, and with those around us, will undoubtedly find ourselves in both situations. We’ll find ourselves in a place where our choices are the same as those around us, and be suseptable to being labelled “conformists”. We’ll also, at some point, find ourselves in a place where our choices are not those of the majority, and be met with skepticism, hostility, and possibly even pressure to change. What matters most, is not fitting into an image we may have of ourselves, whether it be the upstanding citizen, rebel, outcast, or whatever, it is that we have the courage to be all things, depending on our setting, in order to be true to ourselves.

Backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness: Day 2

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Before moving to Colorado, I experienced seasons in a completely different way. While there would be some anomalies, for the most part, winter was winter and summer was summer. Snow was something I experienced starting in November, through the winter, probably one last time in early April, and then not again for 6-9 months. Likewise, heat would be primarily confined to the summer months. In other words, I experienced being cold and being warm in two separate parts of the year. The experience would generally only mix during the in between seasons; mid-spring and mid-fall.

In Colorado it’s all different. In Denver I’ve seen temperatures reach the lower 70s (23 C) in the middle of February. At higher elevations snow can fall nearly year round, and there are places where snowpack persists well into the summer.

Saturday morning, the start of my second day in the Weminuche Wilderness, was a cold one. The chill had awoken me at 3:00 in the morning, when I reached for my warm hat and for the zipper to zip my sleeping bag all the way shut. At roughly 6:30 I woke up for good, and crawled out of the tent to find ice on the fly! Frost was found on many of the items we left outside, including this bear cannister.

It warmed up fairly quickly at the campsite making me wonder why I did not simply stay inside the tent for another hour. All the weather forecasts we had looked at prior to this backpacking trip had indicated that a wet period was coming to a slow end, and that each day would get progressively drier (lower probability of rain). Yet, in the morning I saw something that would indicate differently; alto-cumulus clouds. These are puffy clouds with a base somewhat higher up in the sky than the clouds we typically see. On some storm chases, the presence of alto-cumulus clouds indicated the presence of moisture at higher levels of the atmosphere. This was seen as a good sign on a storm chase, but, on a backpacking trip, is a bad sign.

The first few miles of the day took us by a lake we are glad we did not chose to camp at the prior evening, and then back into the woods, where once again the trail was muddy kind of on-and-off.

Headed farther up in elevation, towards the summit of the day, we approached the tree line, encountering several waterfalls. This one, by far, was the most pictureqsue.

I did not even know the name of any of these waterfalls. In fact, I did not even verify that they even have a name. It didn’t even seem important at the time. We just liked what we saw. At that time, most of the conversation within our group revolved around whether we would see marmots in the nearby rocks, and speculation as to what elevation the tree line was at at this latitude.

We followed the Rincon La Vaca (Cow Canyon) trail, which is also considered a section of the Continental Divide Scenic trail, above the tree line, and approached a rock formation we had been looking at since early the prior afternoon, “The Window”.

This is where we decided to stop for lunch, at a lake where we could safely refill our water bottles.

It was noon when we finished eating lunch and, four of us (out of a group of six) decided, despite the potentially ominous weather, to make a side excursion. We dropped our packs and hiked the 500-ish feet (and half a mile) up to “The Window”

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We got back to the lake, where our backpacks were, around 1:00. As soon as we prepared to move, and catch up with the rest of the group, it started to rain. A few minutes later, ice pellets began to fall from the sky.

We briefly took shelter from the inclement weather, but eventually soldiered on through the not quite rain not quite ice, which would eventually change over to snow!

I experienced a lot of this living in Chicago. I called it “precipitation jambalaya”. But, I never thought I would hike through it, and, well, am used to experiencing this in December, not late August! Once again, that thing about the seasons!

The precipitation stopped right before we turned off the Continental Divide/ Rincon la Vaca trail, and started looking for the trail we would take back towards the reservoir, the East Ute Creek Trail.

The scene looked familiar. The shape of the Ute Creek Valley where we were headed, with an open meadow surrounded by mostly dead forests on either side looked quite similar to the Weminuche Creek Valley we had hiked through the prior day. The trail, though, was hard to find.

For the first mile we kept losing the trail, or we just saw it show up only as a barely visible line in the grass. We actually speculated as to whether or not this trail was so infrequently used and/or maintained that mother nature was basically starting to take it back!

We hiked until roughly 5:00 P.M., and by the time the day was over we hike a total of 10.2 miles (11.2 for those of us that took the side excursion to “the window”). The last hour featured two crazy river crossings where we actually removed our socks and shoes.

We found a campground near a small lake called Black Lake, where, once again, the weather took a turn for the worse.

The rain started shortly after 6 P.M., and did not let up until after sundown. I rushed back into my tent! With all of the experiences of the day, the mixed precipitation at over 12,000 feet elevation, wading through water, and now, once again, more icy rain, I was cold! I was way colder than I wanted to be, and way colder than I ever imagined being in the month of August. For the first 20-30 minutes, I had to lie sitting still inside my sleeping bag, otherwise I would start to shiver.

All I could think of were things that were HOT and DRY. I wasn’t even thinking of warm, pleasant experiences, like drinking rum on a beach in Puerto Rico at sunset. I was thinking about things that would immediately heat me up and dry me off; sheets that were pulled directly out of the drier, a sauna, Death Valley!

With the hard hiking parts over with, I had originally hoped to have kind of a party with the group on Saturday night. We had even brought flasks, filled with whiskey for such an occasion. But, the weather changed my plans, as the rain continued and I continued to periodically hear thunder through the 7:00 and 8:00 hours.

I also did something I never do on group trips; read. I joke I often bring a magazine or even a book, places, but never touch it. This time I actually read. It was the July edition of Adventure Cyclist. Fitting for the mood, thinking about warm places while trying to stay warm, I read full stories about cycling journeys through Morocco and Hawaii, both warm places!

I guess regardless of whether you are in an urban setting or in the wilderness, life has a way of changing plans. In the city, it is some merger, or a random change in commodities prices. In nature, it is the weather. But, when it comes to rain, and anytime rain changes my plans, I always do my best not to complain. Even while I was bummed that I was not partying with my friends and hating how cold I was in my tent, I was mindful to remember that rain is necessary for the food we eat, the water we drink, as well as everything that made this trip possible in the first place. I do not want to be one of those people that fails to realize this, and cannot put up with a little bit of rain.

Backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness: Day 1

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During the month of August I had fallen back into some bad habits. In particular, I’d fallen into the very habit I often criticize my own generation for: scrolling. I know the costs outweigh the benefits. By gazing at the predictable content of our news feeds and customized social media echo chambers on our phones, we miss out on countless opportunities out there in the real world, all to avoid the discomfort of boredom, or a potentially awkward interaction with another human being.

It’s not just about scrolling. Scrolling is what we all see. It’s the same routine day in and day out. It’s going to the same bars and restaurants over and over. It’s watching movies and TV shows we have already seen multiple times instead of calling people up and organizing a social gathering. It is all the things that we do because the alternative requires a greater amount of effort. It’s low risk, low effort, and low reward. Unfortunately, for me, it lacks stimulation, it lacks enthusiasm, and over time can even lead to depression.

I haven’t thought of a better word for it than “defaulting”. I often feel as if there is some sort of invisible force always dragging us toward this kind of life, this “defaulting”. There seems to be a constant struggle, to mix things up, to avoid the mundane, to avoid losing contact with people. And, while I think my personal record is pretty good (i.e. all the things I write about in this blog), there are times when I get tired of the struggle, and times when I do feel as if this invisible force is indeed advancing on me. At these times, it is good to have some sort of activity, or some sort of trip that helps us hit the “reset” button.

For this purpose, there truly is nothing like going into the woods, away from it all, out of cell service, completely out of my comfort zone, and in a place where “defaulting” is not only no longer easier, but not an option at all!

Our three day backpacking trip began at ThirtyMile Campground, just a mile or so east of the Rio Grande Reservoir.

After passing by a weather station, that is near and dear to me, as it is one of the stations that helped me calibrate the mean impact cold air funneling, in valleys throughout Colorado, has on nighttime lows, we encountered the Rio Grande Reservoir within the first mile of our trip.

Going into this trip, which had been planned for several weeks ahead of time, we knew there would be muddy trails, and a heightened chance of rain. Not only is Southwestern Colorado the most active part of the state during the late summer monsoon season, but this past weekend featured an active pattern in the region.

Friday was supposed to be the most active day, with regards to chances for precipitation. Yet, we lucked out. Leaving at 10 AM, after enjoying a nice relaxing morning at the campground, we hiked 7.5 miles, up the Weminuche Trail, dealing with very little rain, only with muddy trails. Mindful of the storm threat, we stopped shortly after 3:00 P.M., having found a good spot to set up camp, near a stream and some trees. Despite the periodically ominous looking skies, the storms held off until after sundown, giving us plenty of time to set up camp, cook a nice meal, and take in the wilderness, now being officially away from civilization.

I felt exhausted at the end of the day, as I had not gotten a good night sleep the prior evening at the campground. So, I ended up going to sleep shortly after sundown. With two backpacking trips behind me, I am starting to think that sleeping even more than the normal 7.5 hours per night is pretty normal on trips like this.

I spent the last waking hour of the evening inside the tent, listening to the sound of gentile rain tapping on the fly. Under normal circumstances, many of us drown out these sounds, with TV, music, or some other sound. Hearing this sound, for nearly an hour before falling asleep made me imagine a completely different life.

I imagined myself, as I often do, as a completely different person, with a completely different personality, upbringing, circumstance, and desires. I imagined myself living in the woods, in a cabin of sorts, not too unlike the kind many people in Michigan, Minnesota, or Wisconsin have today. It would be a modest sized cabin, with one main room, a bunch of bedrooms, a kitchen, and a closet, to keep things like cross-country skis, wet suits, and all of the other necessary equipment. But, I would not have too many high tech or expensive toys. It would be a life in a small community of sorts, where people know one another, spend a lot of time over at each other’s houses for dinner and games. It would be a life way closer to, and way more connected with nature. It would be a life that would never satisfy the real me, as restless as I get for one adventure after the next, one major social interaction after another, and testing limits. But, for this alternate person I imagine myself being, as I drift off to sleep on a rainy August evening high in the San Juan Mountains of Southwest Colorado, it is perfect, cozy, and quaint.

Three Truths About Paradise

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Our ever evolving languages can often lead to some complicated terms, and concepts that can often be difficult to both describe and properly comprehend. One of those concepts is paradise, this concept of a place where everything is ideal, happy and worry free. But, in various places within our culture, there are vastly differing depictions of it.

Last year, I rode my bike through a place called Paradise Valley, in Southern Montana, along the Yellowstone River Valley. This “paradise” is a calm, quiet, and sparsely populated picturesque landscape in the mountains. When many people here in Colorado talk about “paradise”, they are commonly discussing places that meet this very description.

A google image search for the word paradise primarily produces images of a tropical beach. This is the image of paradise depicted in commercials for products like Corona. In my observation, this is the most common way paradise is depicted in our culture, and for anyone that has ever spent a winter in the Midwest, it serves as a dream vacation.

And then there is the world of music, and its plethora of widely varying references to paradise; As a specific act of intense sexual pleasure (L.L. Cool J.). As a hyperbole for a horrible life situation (Phil Collins). Sarcastically (Green Day). Detroit based rapper Big Sean comes closest to appreciating the true, complex nature of the concept, when, in his song, Paradise, he discusses his lifestyle as a whole, and the pride he has taken in earning it.

I wasn’t expecting to find any inspiration here at Evergreen Lake. I mainly came up here to free myself from the distractions at home, and also avoid the 90 degree heat in Denver, without traveling too far. I did not know what to expect from this place. I hoped to find somewhere I can alternate between walking and reading. What I saw was a popular public place, with outfitters renting out paddle boats, stand-up paddle boards, and other strange water contraptions, families having picnics, and groups of friends just enjoying themselves in the areas surrounding the lake.

It felt like paradise- sort of. In a way, it felt reminiscent of paradise, what it truly is and isn’t. The concept of paradise is kind of complex, but lost in all of our songs, pictures, and conversations, are three basic truths about paradise.

Paradise is not just a geographical location- it’s a setting!

It’s the time of day and time of year. It’s who you are with (or not with), your situation, and what’s on your mind. It’s a “setting”, in the full sense of the word, as it is applied to stories, plays, etc. This can include not only the place a person is, but where they just were, where they are going, and how they feel about all of it.

Paradise is different for every person.

Gazing upon people giggling amongst each other, playing games, paddling their boats and such, I realized that, as a true extrovert, my version of paradise is probably not this quiet retreat in the mountains, or an empty beach. It probably falls a lot closer to Big Sean’s, a life well lived and earned! But, also a place where people are interacting with one another in a manner that is enjoyable.

We often don’t recognize paradise until after the fact.

I was inspired by multiple specific things I saw. A group of older people playing bocce ball reminded me that life did not have to become dull and uninspiring with age (as I often fear). There was also a group of younger people, cheerleaders, doing cartwheels and giggling about what had transpired over the course of their weekend. Witnessing this reminded me of all of the times I had spent socializing with good friends over the past decade or so. It was almost like a montage playing through my head.

I recalled the times I would be envious of people in a large group that seemed to be doing something more interesting than what I was doing, only to remember how frequently, I am on the other side of that equation, part of a large group, likely being obnoxious. I recall in particular, one time, in Chicago, when I tried to replicate the experience of passing around a boot of beer, a German tradition also common in Madison, Wisconsin. I found a place that served boots, and assembled a group of a dozen or so people only to realize that this was more of a family establishment, and not necessarily a place to go to recreate college type antics. We still had a good time, and there may have been some that wished for that level of excitement out of their evening!

Of the crowd at Lake Evergreen, I wonder how many of them are like me. I wonder how many of them are enjoying their own personal version of paradise, and, as I had so many times in the past, not realized it until a couple of weeks after the fact.

Day 6: The Finale

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The last day of a long bike ride is always a strange day. Not that any of the previous five days were similar to the others, but this day was especially different. As is the case with many journeys, on the last day two things happen.

First, the specifics, the details such as route decisions, stop locations, timing, daily milage and the like all sort of gradually drift out of my mind. In its place come grander thoughts about the trip as a whole, the accomplishments, the disappointments, the lessons learned, and everything else that has been going through my mind.

The second thing that happens is reality starts to set in. For six days, July 5th, the day I would go back to work, and return to my “normal life”, may as well not have existed. It did not cross my mind once. It’s like my mind suddenly re-realized that this day was coming and that, in less than 24 hours I’d be on a plane heading home, and within 48 hours I’d be back to regular old work.

Another thing that made this day different than the first five days is that we had two additional riders join us. Riding with a group, and riding significantly less miles (67 today as opposed to over 100 most other days) made the ride take on a significantly different feel.

We entered Maine only about seven miles into the ride. I guess the previous day I pretty much rode across the entire state of New Hampshire. And, I got my sign! The one I had been hoping for the last two times (last two days) I crossed a state line.

The first part of the ride was nice, with a wide shoulder along state highway 113, following the Saco River. After riding on a few back roads, and a little bit of time on a trail that was half paved and half rocky, we found ourselves headed into the Portland area. The roads got significantly busier. In fact, these were the busiest roads I had ridden on for the entire trip. In some parts of the route, the shoulders all but disappeared, making these the kinds of roads I would not normally chose to ride on.

We rode through the surprisingly hilly downtown area of Portland, and after the final seven miles along state highway 77, arrived, in the early afternoon, at our final destination for the trip, Cape Elizabeth.

When we arrived at the Atlantic Coast, at Two Lights State Park, the day started to get emotional.

This was, by far, the biggest bike trip I had ever been on, and may still prove to be my life’s longest bicycle journey. But, for Clay, it was the culmination of a three year long effort to bike across the country. In 2014, he biked from Denver to Chicago. Last summer, from the Oregon Coast to Denver. This year, from Chicago to Maine. In three segments, he biked across the country. Many members of his family made the journey to Maine to see him triumphantly enter the Atlantic Ocean, having biked across the continent, and, as a side note, also basically proven that you do not have to be some incredibly rich or extremely lucky person to do so. He did it all while holding the same steady job!

Of course, it is easier to be emotional when exhausted, and this picture sums up exactly how I felt the first fifteen minutes after completing the ride. It was an odd combination of emotions that came over me. Most of them were good, and most importantly, I felt gratitude for being able to play a small part in this whole mission by joining Clay, for three days last year in Montana and Wyoming, and for six this year.

In the afternoon I got the meal I knew I had wanted upon completion of my ride; Lobster. I love lobster, but I live in Denver. When in Maine, well, really there was no other logical choice. In fact, when biking over the last hill of the day, despite being tired, I actually increased my speed and simply yelled, “this is the last hill in the way between me and lobster”!

We ate at a place called the Lobster Shack Restaurant, which, on that day, had a 40 minute wait for service, as it is a popular destination where patrons can eat while overlooking the Ocean!

It got even more emotional after that. That evening my main goal was to hang out with my friends, Clay and Liz, as much as possible. They are in fact, leaving for a year long adventure, to go out and see many other parts of the world! These adventures will be catalogued on their WordPress site. I knew I would likely not see them for a while.

I also could not help but think about all of the things this bike journey taught me, whether it be specifically from the experience, or things that ran through my mind over the course of the long hours I spent on my bike.

Over the course of the week, I saw kindness everywhere I went. Clay was raising money for charity. His family volunteered to help with the ride. Many of the people we met along the way were friendly. I realized that, despite the amount of physical pain I put myself through, I felt happy the entire time, significantly happier than under normal circumstances. Maybe the whole world would be happier if we all acted this way towards one another. The most I can do, going forward, is strive to be the kind of person that gives more than I take, and do my part.

Having experienced being on mile 27 of a 100+ mile day multiple times reminded me not to become too obsessed with the destination. This ride was about more than me laying on a beach in Maine and then eating lobster. It was all of the places I saw while traveling from Niagara Falls across Upstate New York, through the Adirondacks and then Northern New England. The rest of my life is not exactly where I hope it will end up at this point in time, but I can be much better off if I learn to obsess less over the destination and enjoy the journey, as I did this week.

The social media era has turned us all into avatars. By that I mean we all have some kind of image of ourselves that we present to others, based on who we think they want us to be. This week, I simply couldn’t continue to be my avatar. On trips like this, our concerns shift, from the concerns of urban 21st century American life, such as getting a promotion or getting likes on social media, to more basic concerns, for food, water, and shelter. I couldn’t put on a show for others, but I got by, and even thrived. The others on the trip seemed to enjoy having me around. So, I need to stop trying to be the person I think others want me to be.

Also, on the flight to Buffalo-Niagara, I was reading a book called The Happiness Project, about a woman who undertakes various initiatives aimed at improving life satisfaction and reports on the results. She introduced me to the concept of “fog happiness”. This is when the happiness related to an activity is not necessarily concentrated at the time of the activity itself, but spread out over a longer time period, both before and after the actual activitiy. Once I determined I was going to make this bike trip, for the first time in my life, I thought of myself as a legitimate bike tourist. For the first time, I felt the right to interject in a conversation about bike touring, and have legitimate opinions. Essentially, I had added something to my list of activities and enriched my life. We all should be more thoughtful when choosing activities, and, specifically avoid missing out on opportunities to create more of this “fog happiness”.

Obviously, anytime anyone completes an activity that requires a great amount of physical exertion, it is a reminder of how rewarding it can be to overcome fatigue. This lesson applies to other areas of life too, but a journey like this can often be the best reminder that some of the most challenging tasks are the ones with the greatest reward.

Personally speaking, the most important lesson I have taken from this ride relates to something I have struggled with for nearly my entire life. I seek significance in life. I want to do things that matter and feel like I matter to others. While with most of it my intensions are good, there is a dark side. At times, when I feel insignificant and powerless, I succumb to anger, depression and other negative emotions.

This week, while a significant ride, and a series of significant experiences and accomplishments for myself, I was not the center of it all. As previously mentioned, it was Clay’s ride. He rode longer, harder, and raised money for charity. Yet, I did not feel insignificant, as I have a tendency to feel in many day-to-day activities. I realized, and this is important, that: You Don’t Have to be the Center of Attention to Matter. I cannot stress this, to others but most importantly to myself, enough!

As I flew home, I drifted off to sleep, as Bon Jovi’s inspirational 2000 song Save The World played on my headphones. Flying through moderate turbulence, I felt the plane gently shift, both upwards and downwards. Running through my head, was an image of myself, from above, pedaling over hills, through the woods. Nothing else was happening, I was just pedaling.

A Visit to Albuquerque

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People like to break things up into neat little groups. It is a technique people use in order to try to simplify a world that, in reality, is quite complicated. In the United States, we take our cities, and break them out into various groupings. We place cities in groups based on their region, their size, and sometimes even by culture. I am as guilty as anyone of doing this. But, every once in a while, we find ourselves in a place that reminds us that we need to respect two basic tenants of humanity, which apply both to the Cities we visit, as an entity, as well as to each and every one of us individually.

Each City, just like every one of us, has a distinct and unique individual identity. In this identity, we see reflections of factors such as its geographic location, its history, and some of its specific influences, such as specific personalities and prominent industries. We also see some specific quirks that cannot be easily explained just by looking at what we observe elsewhere. It is the same way with each and every one of us. When we are being true to ourselves, our behavior patterns manifest in a similar unique manner, a manner that can only be described as attributed to our unique person. I feel it every time any one of my friends responds to anything I do or say by simply saying “That’s so Steve”.

Also embedded in the character of any City I have ever visited are reflections of natural law, or the universal truths that bind us all together.

Albuquerque reminded me of both of these two basic facts. Albuquerque has a unique heritage. It has similar beginnings as Santa Fe, and even has an Old Town Square that reflects these beginnings.

However, much of the city was built in a much more sun-belt style car-centric manner. It is one of the most storied towns along historic U.S. route 66. Route 66 embodies multiple eras of U.S. history, including the mass migration to California during the Great Depression, and later the first decade after the second World War, when the American road trip first became accessible to a large swath of the American people; the middle class.

Route 66 connected Chicago to Los Angeles from the late 1920s through the end of the 1970s. While the route covers a large distance, traversing many different parts of the country, it is the Southwest, New Mexico and Arizona, that is often most commonly pictured when people imagine that classic road trip on route 66. While the exact location of the route 66 town in Disney’s Cars is not disclosed, the imagery in the movie clearly points to a southwestern location.

Albuquerque celebrates its pivotal position along route 66 by both preserving some of the places that were legendary stops for travelers along this highway.

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As well as creating restorations that recreate the experience of being at a travel stop along the old highway, much the same way old west towns recreate the American West during the 1800s.

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Route 66 is even the subject of a major controversy in town. A proposed Bus Rapid Transit project, called Albuquerque Rapid Transit, would more or less follow the path of historic route 66 through town. Residents of a hip area of town adjacent to the University of New Mexico called Nob Hill appear united in opposition to the project. Some of the signs I saw opposing the Albuquerque Rapid Transit referenced protecting the heritage of route 66. However, I wonder if this opposition is motivated by route 66 preservation, or the desire to avoid any changes to the neighborhood.

Regardless of whether the people are motivated by the desire to preserve route 66 in its historic format, or preserve their neighborhood the way it currently is, on display here is one aspect of humanity that appears consistent across all cultures. When people are enjoying their current situation, they generally do not desire change, and, in many cases, will fiercely oppose it. This has been the case for me, personally, at various stages in my own life, and is also evident in a lot of the behaviors I observe in others when they react to changes in the workplace or their favorite social media outlet.

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It also appears to be basic human nature to seek out a broader view of the world from time to time. It is the reason people go to the top of the world’s tallest building, hike Mount Rainier, or sit and gaze down at Los Angeles from the Hollywood sign. Albuquerque’s answer to this is the Sandia Peak Tramway.

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This tramway takes passengers on a 15-minute ride from a base elevation of 6559 feet (already significantly higher than the center of town), to a peak of 10,378 feet. Here, visitors to the area can see unique rock formations.

Learn about the unique biomes that can be found in the mountainous terrain (Breckenridge has a similar exhibit, but uses an actual garden).

And, can get a view overlooking this city that actually covers a much broader area than just the Albuquerque city limits. In fact, Sandia Peak is so high that it is quite difficult to make out individual buildings or even neighborhoods in town!

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The culture is unique as well, seeming to combine so many aspects of the West and Southwest.

Along the Rio Grande River, which cuts through the center of town, a bike trail, as well as numerous parks provide the urban outdoor space that Westerners seem to value so much. Whereas, in many other cities I have visited and lived in, living in close proximity to a park is desirable, but kind of a bonus, it feels as if people here in the West view being near a park as a prerequisite, a necessity of life itself!

On this particular Sunday afternoon, a parade of classic cars rolled through Old Town Square, showing off their classic appeal, and the hard work each and every car owner put into maintaining their vehicle’s shine.

That evening, on the West side of downtown, another group of people are gathered, also showing off their vehicles, and, almost downright partying.

When I think of all the cars revving their engines up at night, all I can say is, “That’s so Albuquerque”. One could speculate what mix of cultural influences, old Spanish, sunbelt, Western, Hispanic, etc. lead to Albuquerque being the way it is today. But it is more than that. The same can be said about any other place one would visit. That is why we travel, not just when we need to go somewhere for business, or when we wish to visit people that live in another place, but also when we desire an experience we simply cannot have in our respective hometowns.

The Action Story

Learning about the world and about ourselves through travel and experiences

Tag Archives: travel

Buried in Crested Butte

An All-Inclusive Week At Cancun’s El Dorado Royal

The Longest Day Hike of My Life

Pure Magic

Backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness: Day 3

Backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness: Day 2

Backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness: Day 1

Day 6: The Finale

A Visit to Albuquerque