A bike ride in the sky

During our trip, I took a couple of point-to-point mountain bike rides, where I'd ride through roadless mountainous terrain and meet the Runner and R at our next camping location. I both fear and love this rides. I fear them because I seem to get lost so easily, and it's happened before on these point-to-point rides. I love these rides because they take me through remote terrain that I'd never otherwise see.

The weather was tricky on this trip because thunderstorms built up almost every day, sometimes before noon. I had to hustle through my rides to avoid being caught at high elevation, above treeline, during lightning. On my first point-to-point ride of this trip, I think that I pushed myself too hard at the beginning out of fear of storms, going into the red zone too much, and suffered for it near the end in the form of fatigue. But, I made it to our campsite fine, albeit somewhat tired.

Much of the terrain was like this. It was steep and mountainous. I was high above treeline, and mountain peaks surrounded me. Despite the drought, some wildflowers bloomed. This kind of place is my favorite on Earth.

Because I was so far between roads, I saw almost no other people. But, I saw some cool animals. One species was Ptarmigans, birds about the size of grouse, who live in the mountains all year long, including winter. They turn snow white for the winter months.

I saw a mother Ptarmigan with at least three youngsters. You can see mom in the foreground and a youngster hiding behind her in the background in this photo. They are surrounded by white Arctic Gentians, wildflowers that are harbingers of winter.

Mom was determined to keep my attention on her while the youngsters fled. She climbed atop a boulder and made all sorts of funny noises.

Since I seemed to be upsetting their tranquil family life, I quietly moved on, toward more incredible vistas. I climbed the highest mountain pass on my route. You can look down and see the ribbon-like trail that I'd pedaled along to get up high.

Then, I descended on a well-worn path. I love the colors of the mountains in southwest Colorado, ranging from tan to red to green. Whenever I saw beauty like this, I thought of K, and I wished that she was with me.

The clouds began to look more ominous, and I hurried my pace despite wishing that I could stay in this paradise for a long time. You can see my narrow path leading into the distance across the tundra.

I did stop to photograph my friend Marvin, a marmot who whistled for me as I passed.

I arrived, after about 5 hours of pedaling at very high elevation, at one of my favorite campsites in the world. Now, that's a view!

We've visited this site almost yearly for a while. K's spirit infuses this camp because she visited it so many times with us over her lifetime. I felt sad that she wasn't with us but R did his best to keep us smiling.

Life is so rarely perfect. Here I was, in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and I shed tears almost every day because I missed K. Despite that, it was a peaceful oasis that helped me take tiny steps toward healing my heart. We'll be back to visit it again, doubtless with a new canine family member next summer. That will be special.