The Road to Mt. Evans

     I'm an early riser, and if I sleep much past 6 a.m., even on my day off, someone better check on me. On our first full day in Colorado, I was up early, as usual, even given the different time zone. While having coffee with Sherpa Girl K, I remarked that I did not see how we were going to work everything into our limited vacation schedule, especially time to get up into the mountains. With the rest of the house still in bed, K suggested that we head up to Mt. Evans right then, to which I said "let's go".

      To someone who has spent the majority of his life just a few feet above sea level, the mountains have a special appeal, especially here on the Atlantic Coastal Plain where they are several hours away at best. Mt. Evans is one of the 50 plus peaks in Colorado exceeding 14,000', but is only one of two you can drive to. In fact, the road to Mt. Evans is the highest paved road in the country, and there's nary a guardrail in sight. I was so glad that someone else was behind the wheel.

     Out first stop was Echo Lake, where the water was like a mirror, and the air smelled of Christmas.

     Further up the mountain, the trees give way to alpine tundra, and we stopped to visit with one of the locals who was quite relaxed around transient visitors.

   

     Back in the car we climbed to Summit Lake. My last visit here was impaired by altitude sickness, but on this trip I refused to let that be an issue.

     Summit Lake is one of those places where you don't know whether to focus your eye on the grandeur in front of you, or the details at your feet. Looking at the entirety of it touched my soul and brought tears to my eyes, and yes, I am sure it was not the thin oxygen making me think that way.

     The man in the following picture is not me, bowing my head in prayer, though it could have easily been. Though he was a kindred spirit, and he was also part of Wildlands Restoration Volunteers. The group was working at Summit Lake planting tiny little alpines, the seeds of which were gathered from the same sight the previous year. They looked like a fun group, and I felt like picking up a trowel and getting my hands dirty, but we had run out of time, and had to get back down the mountain.

     We did make one more stop on the road to Mt. Evans, and that was so I could hug some thousand year old trees, but I will have to share that in another post.