Colorado again?

     This weekend I was lucky enough to have a paid trip to Estes Park, Colorado for a scholarship retreat.  It provided lots of opportunities to connect with nature, and shaped up to be a great thing to write a blog post about.  Along with learning about leadership, playing hacky sack, and getting to know other college students from around the nation, I also managed to squeeze in some time in the wilderness.  It is so hard trying to stay indoors when I am in a place as beautiful as Rocky Mountain National Park.  I was itching for a hike and I was glad to hear that there were other scholars interested in the same thing.

An elk (Cervus canadensis) I saw at the YMCA

    With the conference already taking up a significant portion of the sleep schedule, I didn't think I'd be able to convince anyone to wake up with me for the sunrise, so for the first day I stuck close to the cabin and watched the sun rise on my own.  There was quite a bit of fog, providing for a unique sunrise experience, with clouds catching many different colors from the sun.  I sat on a rock for about an hour just taking it all in.  A family of mule deer came up and stopped right in front of me to graze.  With elk mating calls in the background, I was fully immersed in the wilderness, loving every second of it.  I felt fulfilled and genuinely happy further proving that the mountains are indeed my happy place.  

    The second day I threw the idea of a morning hike out to the group, and surprisingly, I was not the only one crazy enough to wake up before 6 AM to go on a hike around the campgrounds.  Still dark outside, we left the cabin to try a trail I had seen earlier.  The stars were out on full display; it seemed like there were too many to be real, as if we were in a planetarium.  The hike was steeper than expected, but even the people I had persuaded to accompany me didn't complain.  We reached a well placed bench at the top, and watched a gorgeous sunrise.  Seeing the sunrise in the mountains makes it hard to believe that it is the same sun that rises here in Texas.  I was in awe watching the sun peek up over the ridge of mountains to the east.  It is such a simple thing, but it feels magical.  I think no matter how many sunrises I see it will never lose its splendor.  

A foggy sunrise

    Therefore, the next day I did the same thing.  This time I recruited more scholars and chose a different trail.  We scaled a big boulder and parked at the top to watch the sunrise, which was more rewarding for me.  I absolutely adore climbing.  It presents a fun challenge with a clear goal: getting to the top.  I'm not extremely technically sound, but climbing brings me so much joy.  I try to find fun and creative ways to get up, giving a tougher challenge, yet I am wary of my limitations, making sure not to push the ticket too far and put myself in real danger.  I tried to go up what I thought was the hardest path, and I soon found out that it was exactly that - I turned around rather than see myself fall.  Even though that was frustrating, I still felt accomplished when I reached the top.  It's hard to see the views from an elevated position and not feel amazed that you made it all the way from where you started.  This was the best sunrise experience yet and I had just watched the same mountain ridge 3 days in a row - it never gets old.  

My silhouette on the rock against the colors of the sunset

    This weekend in Estes Park was nothing short of refreshing.  Just breathing the mountain air gave me a newfound sense of purpose.  It made me that much more excited to move to Denver after graduation to go hiking as much as I can and watch many more sunrises.  

The Man, The Myth, Edward Abbey

     After giving a presentation on such a character as Edward Abbey, I couldn't have a blog for this class without having a post focused on him.  As such a controversial figure who influenced so many people on all kinds of environmental issues, he gave me a lot to think about when I was researching his life.  With the new perspectives he discussed in his writings, I was left wondering what I really thought about these issues.  

    The first topic that comes to mind when discussing Abbey is his views on national parks.  My fall break probably would have given Abbey an aneurysm.  I attended a scholarship retreat in Estes Park, Colorado, where we stayed right on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park, but never actually entered the park.  We stayed the whole time in the confines of the YMCA of the Rockies, with many people barely getting the chance to walk around, sticking with the views from the parking lot.  I was itching to go hiking, so I spent every bit of free time exploring the area, following any trail I could find.  I was disappointed to have flown all the way out there to get so close to a national park just to find out I wouldn't be able to go.  This was the epitome of the industrial tourism Abbey despised.  From our hotel-style lodge, we could enjoy the beauty without ever having to immerse ourselves in the wilderness that greatly enhances the experience.  The development of the area attracts many tourists - several conferences were going on at the same time that we were there, and these tourists never have to stray from a paved walking path.  It made me wonder if Abbey's plan actually would make things better.  The area would definitely be less crowded if resorts like that weren't as developed in the area, and nature is always more impactful away from the large crowds of people, where you can experience it fully and take in all the senses.  Developing the area almost glorifies human development, since it shows we can conquer such unique terrains.  However, I believe that everyone should be given the chance to experience such beauty to show them why we need to preserve such a wonderful planet.

Industrial Tourism

    The big mystery is Edward Abbey's burial.  No one, except the people who buried him, knows where he is buried.  Around the time I was researching Abbey for the presentation, I was reading Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, a book about a the author, Caitlin Doughty, who works in a funeral home, and her commentary on how American society handles death seemed to be in line with what Abbey may have believed - she even mentions Abbey's unconventional burial.  Doughty argues that modern burial techniques tend to try to ignore the process of death and even stop it.  Modern embalming techniques load bodies with chemicals to keep them from decomposing and underground concrete tombs ensure the casket is not subject to the natural world.  This can be a dangerous way to see the world because death is a necessary part of life that gives it meaning.  If we ignore its role in the cycle of life, we lose touch with reality.  Death gives way for more life, and one's body can offer nutrients to give back to the wilderness and find new life within nature.  Abbey's death showcases this well.  He knew he was going to die after suffering complications from surgery for cirrhosis of the liver, so he invited his friends to take him camping one last time.  He died before the camping could start, but when one of friends told him where they planned on burying him, he smiled for the last time.  His body has become nature, completing his life cycle.

    Reading this book paired with my presentation research made me start to wonder about what I wanted to happen to my body when I die.  I know I definitely do not want to be embalmed; the whole process sounds disgustingly unnatural.  Growing up, I thought it would be cool to be cremated and have someone spread my ashes in a place meaningful to me.  However, as I started thinking about it, why wouldn't I choose the most environmentally friendly option of being buried in a compostable bag straight in the ground to become part of the earth.  I see it as a small way to give back to the earth that made me.  

    Edward Abbey may have some radical views, but they are rooted in understandable reasonings.  It provides an interesting perspective through which to see the world, and it gave me lots of thinking material, which led to different conclusions I hadn't thought of before.

A Summer Well Spent

     This past summer, I was lucky enough to have an internship in Denver, CO.  While I was excited to get on the job experience in a field I was interested in, I was maybe more excited to live that close to the mountains.  Fortunately, I didn't have a ton of work to do for my internship, leaving me plenty of time to plan hikes for the weekends.  I ended up doing 21 hikes in 10 weeks, loving every second of it.  I'm going to outline a few of my favorite hikes and why they were my favorites.

Royal Arch

    The first hike I want to touch on is Royal Arch - a hike in Boulder that leads to a cool arch shaped rock formation at the end.  This hike is cool on its own and offers some good views, but they are far from the best that I saw this summer.  The reason I want to talk about this one is because it was my first trail to do completely alone.  This was one of the only times I have ever wished that there were other hikers on the trail.  With it being my first time on the trail alone, I was a little nervous just in case something went wrong, especially because I was in a new city, with few people around that I actually knew.  However, that fear couldn't keep me off the trail.  I got up early enough to see the sunrise as I began the hike, and it was a magical view from the trailhead.

Sunrise on the Royal Arch Trailhead

    I saw very few people out on the trail that early on a Friday, which was both fortuitous and a little frightening, given it being my first time on the trail.  Despite this apprehension, I found myself loving being able to go at my own pace and stop when I wanted to.  The freedom was exhilarating.  It is what helped boost this hike onto this list.  I could stop and enjoy nature all at my own pace.  

The Royal Arch

    My newfound love for hiking alone only pushed me further to attempt more hikes on my own, helping me check off more hikes than I ever expected to complete in one summer.

Mount Bierstadt

    Mount Bierstadt was my most ambitious solo adventure.  About an hour drive away from where I was living, Mount Bierstadt crosses the 14,000 foot threshold, and after hearing a friend's account of how much fun it was to hike, I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away.  I started in the dark, with just the flashlight on my phone to guide me since I hadn't thought ahead to buy a headlamp (I had already lost the fear that had made me over prepare for Royal Arch).  For the first hour or so before the sun started to peek over the horizon, I was hiking in the dark, which was so much better than I expected.  Looking back at the string of headlamps lining the trail was a sight to behold.  Seeing all the people who had decided to wake up before the sun and enjoy nature was so refreshing.  It felt good knowing that there are still people who care about the environment and enjoy being in it.  

Headlamps on the trail to Mount Bierstadt

    I reached the top of the mountain just after sunrise, and was amazed to see the sun peek over the adjacent mountain, Mt. Evans, another 14er as they are lovingly called in Colorado.  One of the pictures I got up there is actually the background picture for this blog.  I sat on the summit for a while watching the sun go further into the sky and thought about how the mountain goats and chipmunks get to see this everyday and are probably laughing at how big of a deal I made out of it.  But no matter how many sunrises I see, there is still something magical about witnessing the start of a day.  It is a very meditative activity, where I feel extremely connected to nature.  It is calming to know that something that beautiful is happening everyday, regardless of what is happening.  

Mt. Elbert

    One of the prettiest sights I saw this summer was in the middle of the forest on the way to Mt. Elbert, the highest point in Colorado.  It was pitch black, except for the stars that were out in multitudes.  Looking up, I could see the tops of the trees and the stars twinkling above.  This looked like a scene out of a fairy tale.  I had to stop and take it all in multiple times.  I tried my hardest to capture it in a photo, but my phone couldn't even focus on the stars, since it was so dark.  I still feel that. camera can capture an image but the experience is so much more than just a photo.  Elements of the experience can conveyed in well taken photo, but nothing will ever match being there in the moment. 

My attempt to capture the stars when there was enough light to take a picture.

    I did this hike with my brother, which was a fun change from my normal accompaniment of me, myself, and I.  He was not nearly as acclimatized as I was, since he had been in Colorado for a day at that point, so he slowed me down a bit, but it was fun getting to accomplish such a satisfying goal with my lifelong friend.  This added Colorado to my list of states I have summited (the only other right now is Texas).  The views from the top were so rewarding and just emphasized how small humans really are in the grand scheme of things.  We don't deserve this Earth, yet we are destroying our greatest blessing.

My brother Paxton on the summit of Mt. Elbert

Rocky Mountain High

     This year, TCU played a football game against Colorado that provided me the perfect opportunity for me to convince my friends to fly to Colorado with me, so that I could engage in one of my favorite activities: hiking.  The day following the football game, we drove into Rocky Mountain National Park to embark on a 9 mile traverse to Sky Pond.  

A friend we made on the trail - a Golden Mantled Ground Squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis)

     What I had not taken into account was that it was labor day weekend - one of the busiest times of the year for the park.  We were lucky enough sign up for a timed entry slot for the park the day prior - a new system to limit the amount of visitors each day - before they sold out in less than a minute.  When we got to the park, we waited in a line of cars longer than the lunchtime rush drive-through line at Chick-Fil-A before being admitted through the gates.  When we got to the Bear Lake side of the park, we were informed that the parking lot closest to the trail was already filled, so we parked and took a shuttle, in which we were packed like sardines, to the trailhead.

     One thing to note about me is that I absolutely despise crowds.  I am fairly introverted, so big groups of people tend to bring me stress and fatigue.  In addition, people can really get in the way of some fantastic photo opportunities and ruin the peacefulness of the outdoors - a big reason of why I love hiking in the first place.  Therefore, there were many reasons why I was hoping that the amount of people I had already seen was not representative of how many people would be hiking the trail alongside our group.  Luckily, surprisingly few people got off at the Glacier Gorge stop, making me ever so slightly optimistic for our ensuing hike.

A Henry David Thoreau quote greeted us at the trailhead: :"...in wilderness is the preservation of the world."

     Once we got on the trail, we saw significantly less people, which made the experience much better for me, but also made me wonder how the other people were spending their time in the park.  I do know that people who don't enjoy hiking exist, but I always assumed that they had never been on a truly enthralling trail.  I couldn't bring myself to think that someone would come all the way out to Rocky Mountain National Park - one of the most beautiful places in the world, and say no to hiking like one does to coleslaw in the Raising Cane's box combo.  At the very least, I hoped that people were breathing in the mountain air, and joining in the blissful mountain feeling.

     On our trek up to Sky Pond, I was amazed at how few people we saw.  With all the labor day festivities, I assumed our hiking situation would be comparable to the start of the Boston Marathon.  However, we were able to enjoy quite a bit of solitude, which put a huge smile on my face.  Whenever I sit back and realize that I am surrounded by nature, with no observable human settlements in the immediate distance, it fills me with a genuine happiness that I rarely feel otherwise.  Not that I'm never happy, but I feel a different kind of happy in nature.  I feel fulfilled.  Like my only job in life is to enjoy the beauty before me.  It puts an unavoidable grin across my whole face. 

Alberta Falls: the first waterfall on the trail

     The day before, we had researched hikes to do in Rocky Mountain National Park and narrowed the search down to three options: Sky Pond, Lake Hiyaha, and Emerald Lake.  With no bias in presenting the hikes, somehow our group, not filled with the most gung-ho hikers, decided unanimously to try Sky Pond - by far the longest of the options.  It took a little more convincing of the group than I thought it would, and I still find it hard to see how people don't get the same levels of enjoyment out of the outdoor activities as I do.

The Powerpoint slide that cemented our plans

     On the trail, since our group wasn't as avid about long walks through the wilderness, we stopped quite a bit, so I had lots of time to really sit and take in the outdoors.  We met a couple friends on the trail of all shapes and sizes, passed gorgeous waterfalls, and even jumped into Sky Pond.  The views left me awestruck.

     Once we reached Sky Pond, we quite literally immersed ourselves in nature, jumping in the frigid waters as a celebration of our trek.  We took our time with the lake, enjoying the views and taking a second to just be - the thing that always keeps me coming back for more.

Sky Pond and all its brilliance

    Once we started to head down, I felt just as energized as when we started.  The pond was so peaceful that just thinking about that time I spent there put a smile on my face.  

    On our way down, I began to notice even more than on the way up.  The first lake we passed, called The Loch, was even prettier from the other side. 

The Loch

        As we made our way around The Loch, we met our second friend on the adventure: an elk.  I was in awe of how close she came.  Here was an elk just minding her own business, and not a care in the world about the humans all around her.  It made me reflect on how small our lives really are. This elk didn't care about my exams the next week, or who won the football game, or even who was president (though that may have a significant effect on her life).  All the things that brought me stress were so foreign to her that I was jealous of her lifestyle.  

My friend the elk (Cervus canadensis)

       It made me wonder how my life was any more valuable than his, or even if his was more valuable than mine, since he hadn't contributed to killing the earth near as much as I have with fossil fuels and single use plastics.  

       As we got further down the trail, we started to run into the larger tour groups, reminding me of the people I can't stand to see in the park.  We saw people going off the trail directly in front of a sign that said to stay on the trail.  We saw people starting the trail in the afternoon, when storms were predicted soon.  People were needlessly putting themselves and the area in danger to see god knows what.

       The trail got extremely crowded as we reached the base, and the shuttle was just as bad on the way back to the parking lot.  I might agree with Abbey on the fact that parking lots should be outside the park just to discourage this many people from going.  The way back was not nearly as enjoyable simply because the sheer number of people kept me from being able to connect with nature in the same way.  I was constantly getting out of the way or looking for a way to pass, instead of soaking in my time with nature.

       Overall, I had a great time going up to sky pond.  Getting to meet several Rocky Mountain National Park natives and jumping in the pond made my day.  I was slightly frustrated with the crowd on the way down, but I had expected as much given that it was Labor Day weekend.  As always, the trail gave me something to think about and much needed time away from my busy life at school.