A tough, but beautiful, alpine hike

Shyla and I were out for a bike ride early yesterday, greeting a sunny and chilly morning. The air at sunrise is now down around 40°F, telling us that winter cannot be stopped.

When I saw the sunshine, the clear sky over the Divide, and a forecast that included no chance of rain, I decided that we had to seize the day. And, we did.

My girl and I did an easy hike, a hike that climbs only about a thousand feet up to a beautiful torquoise lake. Along the path to that lake, small ponds dotted the autumn gold landscape.

I knew fairly early in the hike that my spine was not happy - in fact, it was downright furious. I remembered that this was one of the first "real" hikes that I attempted after I had a three-level fusion in my lower back a number of years ago. I can't remember exactly what year it was but we had K and our yellow lab, S, with us on the hike.

Knowing that more surgery-induced lay-offs are probably in my future, I decided to ignore the pain, and I climbed. I feel so free when I'm up high in the mountains that it is well worth it. (I also know from experience that pain doesn't mean I'm doing any additional permanent damage.)

The lake that we were seeking was below the furthest peaks in the next photo.

Shyla had a fabulous time during the hike. She was fascinated with this new place that she'd never visited before. In this photo, her head was swiveling from side to side as she heard the sounds of marmots whistling from the mountainsides. Fortunately, she has a rock solid "stay" so I could trust her to be leash-free for photos.

As we approached the lake, the intertwined streams draining it were frozen in some spots. Winter is winning.

When we crested the rocky ridge above the lake, I saw that we had the whole huge lake to ourselves! That is a truly rare event. The solitude was due to the flood-destroyed roads that make it almost impossible for city-dwellers to drive to the trailhead. In contrast, we can easily access the mountains right now (but getting to the flats is a heinous drive).

I was mildly disappointed to see the murky water. Of course, it makes sense - we've had "Biblical rains" in the past few weeks. After flooding rains, I shouldn't have expected that the water would be pure, clear, and turquoise like usual.

And, yes, Shyla swam. But, she swam only a tiny bit. She let me know that the water was nearly freezing after her first foray into the water.

As we turned to retrace our steps back to our vehicle, a wind kicked up from the east, and suddenly, the air was cold too.

I'd carried a lightweight down jacket and a stocking cap with me, feeling silly about lugging them as I sweated during the climb upward. I was so glad to snuggle into that jacket and hat for the descent.

On the way down, my spine pain escalated to the point that my eyes brimmed with tears at one point. I sat down on a rock feeling thoroughly sorry for myself, asking the unanswerable question of why a person who loves the mountains has such a terrible spine that visiting the mountains will someday be impossible. As I mulled over those dark thoughts, my sweet Shyla leaned solidly into me while licking my face with concern. She's a special one. I hugged her.

We watched the sun set on our valley.

One thing about the flood disaster all around us is that it's pretty tough to feel sorry for yourself for long. Then, the stories of the loss and devastation endured by others hit me full force. Heck, I can hike with a pain. I'm one of the lucky ones compared to so many others.

It's snowing on those lakes and mountains today. It will be too snowy for hiking very soon. I'm glad that Shyla and I visited them yesterday.