My favorite things about camping

One of my favorite things about all of our camping trips is seeing every minute of every day outdoors. Seeing the rose colored sunset light against the red rock makes the colors glow...

Seeing the sun set on a distant horizon...

Then watching dusk fall and the first stars start to sparkle...

And then, in the dead of night, waking up and seeing the stars overhead. In case anyone else loves the Milky Way like I do, it is alive and well!

When living indoors, it feels too cold and like too much trouble to go outside at 3AM to look for the Milky Way. And, in many places, there's too much light pollution to see it. When camping in the desert, I soak it up.

Happy Springtime Saturday!

A Summer "Vacation" Memory

It's cold here in the Colorado mountains today. Feeling chilled while on my mountain bike reminded me of a day during our last summer vacation.

We awakened to sunny weather. We were surprised because we'd heard that storms were bearing down on our location that might even bring snow. For that reason, we'd decided to cut our time short at our high altitude campsite.

As I took off for my ride, I thought that we were making a mistake to leave so soon. Our campsite was warm and inviting.

My plan was to ride out to a high mountain pass, retrace my route, and then go down about 3,000' on a jeep road to meet the Runner and the Duo.

I set out full of energy for a great ride. Angry clouds invaded the sky quickly. However, I'd seen dark clouds over the mountains every single day that we'd been at this campsite, and no big storms had ensued.

In fact, I'd taken this photo from my "phone booth" the day before. It was the spot where I accessed an on-line course that I was taking (it was in the 50 yards of trail where I got good cell reception). I thought it was a spectacular spot to "work"!

On the day of my "departure ride", it looked less threatening than on other days. Sure, there were clouds, but none looked immediately dangerous.

Here's another view from that day about halfway to that high mountain pass I wanted to "tag" before heading down to the LabMobile.

Since the skies didn't look too bad, I kept hammering my pedals with the goal of quickly riding up to the pass. In fact, I barely looked up at the sky for a long time because I was so fully engrossed in the flow of the ride.

About 200 yards from the top of the pass, a rumble of thunder broke my trance. I looked behind me. Oh my. I needed to ride back in that direction - and it looked scary.

As I paused, I decided to risk those last 200 yards to the top. Just as I restarted pedaling upward, a loud CLAP of thunder made me hop off my bike, turn it around, and start zooming downward. I have almost no photos from that rapid descent. It started hailing and then pouring rain. I made it back to the vicinity of our campsite fast enough that I thought that perhaps the pack hadn't departed yet. I was already soaked and freezing so I wanted to avoid riding the 3,000' descent if possible. There is nothing colder than going downhill in a freezing rain.

Alas, they were gone. The view from the campsite showed snow on nearby peaks.

I already had all my rain gear on, and the rain had already seeped through it. I was wearing mittens (one smart thing) but they were soaked. So, I just put my head down and descended as fast as I could. It felt like I was crawling because the rocky road was so slick that I had to be careful. However, I passed two jeeps on my way down so I knew that I was moving pretty fast.

I became so cold that I couldn't feel my handlebars with my fingers. I started to worry about hypothermia. I felt relieved that those two jeeps were behind me in case I needed to stop and ask for help.

In the meantime, I kept riding down as fast as I could. I realized how totally dependent I was on the Runner meeting me at the designated spot. Worries about whether we both understood our meeting spot to be in the same place invaded my mind. I wanted to use my DeLorme satellite messenger to check with the Runner but I was too cold.

The bottom of the descent flattened and smoothed out. I rode as if I was possessed, and eventually, I spotted the big white LabMobile parked by the side of the road and sighed with relief. The Runner was ready for me with the propane heater going, warm towels, and a hot drink to help me dry off and warm up.

I was pretty helpless for a while because I couldn't feel my hands. Then, finally, I felt myself starting to thaw as comfortable warmth invaded my extremities. Just as I started to relax, I got a wicked migraine aura. I couldn't see anything but the sparkling zig-zagging lines that filled my visual field.

With the Runner's help, I gulped a migraine pill and hoped for the best. The good news was that nothing but a minor headache and a slightly queasy stomach followed the aura. Thank goodness! I think that was a classic example of physical stress inducing a migraine. In other words, it was my own fault!

Days like that one are almost inevitable for someone like me. I'd rather take a risk or two while having an adventure than living a more conventional life.

Due to the wintery weather predicted for the high peaks, we headed toward a high desert area. We drove through the Black Canyon of the Gunnison on our way there. It is an extraordinarily deep but narrow canyon. It was beautiful.

However, I have to admit that I always feel like National Parks are museums. You can look but you can't touch anything. The dogs' paws can't leave the pavement and don't even think of riding a mountain bike there.

So, it was a beautiful drive-through experience before we went onto where we planned to ride out the wintery storms before heading up high again.

The cold snap here today made me remember that bone-chilling mountain bike ride vividly!

Waning Days of Summer - Labs Playing in a Lake!

Because it's approaching the end of summer, I am thinking about my favorite parts of summer. One is visiting lakes to let the Labraduo swim and retrieve. This year, Shyla found her confidence and was rivaling R in races to fetch balls out of the water.

A few of you met Shyla back when she was the most fearful pup I'd ever known. Some of you read about her fears here. In either case, you know that it was a big deal that she'd actually compete with R in a race.

She uses her tail during swimming more than any dog I've known before. When she grabs the ball and is turning back toward shore, she flicks her tail every time, creating an elaborate trail of water.

This year, Shyla watched R bring two balls back to the shore in his mouth. And she mimicked it. Here was her first successful carry of two tennis balls! I have to admit that I kept worrying that she'd choke on the ball further back in her mouth. Yes, I'm the worrier in the family.

These photos were all from our campsite high in the San Juan mountains of southwest Colorado where we stayed for a while on our most recent trip. There are myriad ponds/lakes dotting the tundra in that area. Most of them don't have trails leading to them so we had complete solitude while the dogs frolicked in the water.

We're hoping to sneak in at least one more visit to a mountain lake before it's too cold. I just saw a forecast that included SNOW for one week from today. That shows you how fast winter comes upon us up in these mountains. I have a lot of things that I want to do before it snows!

Happy Summertime to all my Northern Hemisphere friends!

A Solo Journey Through High Mountains

Every year, during one of our summer trips to the high mountains, I do a challenging point-to-point ride to meet the pack at a new destination that the Runner accesses in our 4wd high-clearance LabMobile. I used to be a bike racer, and I took for granted my body's ability to do whatever I asked.

Now, umpteen surgeries later with a spine that has two long surgical fusions, I don't totally trust my body anymore - no matter how hard I've trained. My migraines have been the final straw - I strongly fear one hitting when I'm out in the middle of nowhere. So, navigating through the mountains and pedaling over high passes to meet my pack someplace far away scares me just a little. Last year, my point-to-point ride felt like a death march when I had to take my anti-migraine medicine partway through the ride and felt terrible the whole way. But I made it!

This year, the weather did not look good. Heavy storm clouds had already accumulated early in the morning. However, I felt fabulously energetic. So, I packed rain gear and my Delorme satellite communicator before pedaling off into the wilderness by myself. I know that some people close to me wish that I wouldn't do these kind of solo efforts due to the possible risks - but taking on challenges like this one seems to be knitted into my DNA. I love them.

At the start of a solo ride like this one, I never look backward until I'm a few miles into the ride. This was my first glance over my shoulder. It wasn't a bluebird day but it was beautiful in a stark way.

And this was the path forward - a beautiful red thin trail heading up higher into the mountains. The whole ride was well over 10,000'.

I didn't take as many photos as most years because those storm clouds kept me hustling along. I was hoping to beat the storms to my destination. This was my last glance over my shoulder before I entered the true alpine zone with no trees, gorgeous wildflowers, and endless views.

Above treeline, I passed through a basin that is very wet most years.This year, it was drier than usual, just like the rest of the mountain region. Wildflowers lined the trail but they were thirsty! I just hoped that they didn't get the rain that they wanted until I was back down in the trees.

As I pedaled hard in the thin air endlessly upward toward the highest point of the ride, I noticed how much the crimson paintbrush flowers were coloring the scene.

I managed to pedal even the steepest pitches to the pass, and I was greeted with dramatic looking skies all around me. There was no sound of thunder so I let myself rest on the pass for a bit.

I adore being so high above treeline. I kept wishing that Shyla was with me but it was too long a ride for her to do with me.

Then, I started the long descent off the pass. The wildflowers were brilliant!

I kept stopping on the steep descent to take photos. It was too beautiful to zoom along the trail without really seeing the scenery. I found a lone Columbine in the midst of the riot of flowers.

And an alpine bistort caught my eye with a purple and yellow background of wildflowers.

Finally, I realized that I needed to cover some distance to avoid getting caught in storms. After the long descent, I went through a series of drainages - long downhills to creeks, creek crossings, and then steep climbs back up out of drainages.

Many of the creeks drain abandoned mines. This white-stained creek is probably contaminated with cadmium, a bad mining by-product that messes up calcium metabolism in animals. It is listed as carcinogenic to humans - mimicking estrogen and perhaps causing breast cancer. Isn't it crazy that Colorado is dotted with abandoned mines? The miners just walked away years ago, leaving their mines to poison the environment for years to come. We had an almost worst-case scenario last year when a mine in the area of this bike ride spilled out waste and colored the Animas River bright orange.

Near one of these creeks, a clearer one, I saw a hillside of Columbines. What a treat! The wild Columbines at our elevation finished blooming quite a while ago.

After that, I pedaled hard for a solid hour to reach the final pass of my ride. At each pass, it felt like I traveled from one world of mountains to a whole new one. This was the world that I was departing. What tough terrain I'd just covered!

And I was entering the world of mountains that we'd be living in for the next few days. This view awes me every time.

I rolled up to the LabMobile pleasantly tired but not shattered. It was a confidence-building long ride through tough terrain (those are R's rehab toys next to the LabMobile).

And now I could rest in my vision of paradise. I feel so lucky that I can still ride my bike through fairly rough terrain despite my spine. Every year, it feels like a huge victory.

Wildflowers Galore in Crested Butte

I haven't written much about our trip to Crested Butte or showed many photos of the "Wild Flower Capitol of the US". One of the things that I adore about Crested Butte is the many high altitude mountain biking trails that are lined with flowers as tall as me.

We tried to time our visit for the peak of the wildflowers but the drought was starting to hit the area, and the flowers were a tiny bit past peak - but still no complaints from me!

I got to ride trails that looked like this one for days on end. The only downside was that the rides were too long for Shyla so she couldn't join me. She went running with the boys instead.

There was a super mellow vibe among the mountain bikers. These weren't crazy dudes out to rock the trails at top speed - a small faction of the mountain biking population drives me nuts because it gives all of us a bad name. In contrast to that faction, almost everyone I saw while riding in Crested Butte was stopping to take in the flowers and incredible scenery.

One day, I managed to crash quite badly when I was only 100 yards into my ride. I was going down a very steep slope with loose rocks when a group of motorized dirt bikes appeared out of nowhere. I braked, lost traction, and fell hard. It was my worst crash in years, with a big gash in my elbow, a bruise (or maybe a small fracture) to my ulna (a forearm bone), and a gashed and swollen knee.

I really didn't want to miss a day of riding in paradise so I went back to the van where the Runner helped me clean the wounds and then bandaged me up to go back out on the trails. I was okay to ride - albeit with more pain than usual - but lifting my bike was impossible due to my elbow. I came upon a section of trail where carrying your bike across a chasm is the only option. For a moment, I thought that I'd have to turn around.

To my surprise, a pair of very nice guys who I'd chatted with at the start of the trail were waiting for me so that they could carry my bike for me. They'd seen my elbow and knew I'd need help. People can be so generous and thoughtful. When they are, it makes my day. I don't know these guys' names - but a big thank you to them and to all the thoughtful people in the world!

Thanks to their help, I got to see these sunflowers who were leaning into the trail to say hi!

And I swooped downhill to a section of trail where the purples took over. Purple is my favorite color so I had to stop to enjoy this section of trail lined with fireweed!

Tall Larkspur also added a bit of the "Color Purple".

I'm still recovering from that crash. Today was the first ride that I took without yelping in pain at least once due to banging my elbow or going over a big bump. I think my elbow is going to heal fine all on its own.

Happy Saturday to all of you from Shyla and me!

Wordless Wednesday

Walking on Water

Levitation

Paradise

Hello Sunflower!

A Healing Vacation

After the wildfire, evacuation, and my string of bad migraines, we decided that we needed a serious break from everyday life. We packed up the LabMobile, including all of R's rehab devices, and we headed to the Crested Butte area of Colorado. We camped above 11,000', and we had many lakes around us for most of our days there.

It was exactly what we needed, and it also seemed to be what R needed to get stronger. We'd felt like his post-surgery improvement had slowed down a lot. Before the trip, he was still limping almost daily, and we were nervously controlling his activity to make sure that he didn't hurt himself. Ironically, our vet was encouraging us to increase his activity even more despite the limping because she thought that the limp was simply a "habit" rather than a sign of pain. I'm embarrassed to admit that we'd been afraid to actually follow her advice.

But, in Crested Butte, we had lakes galore. We let R play as if he'd never had elbow surgery. He was the happiest dog in the world. His limp vanished despite intense activity like this leap off the shore of a lake.

After the first day of letting him play around the lakes with no restrictions, I held my breath, watching to see if his gait got worse. It didn't!!!! So we played more!

In between multiple swimming (and diving) sessions per day, R went on progressively longer trail runs with the Runner. He still didn't limp!

I was doing his intensive rehab with him every day in our campsite, and he seemed to be getting stronger at an incredible rate. I'm going to share an update on his rehab soon.

By the end of our trip, we humans felt sure that we'd made a good decision when we chose CUE surgery for him back on April 15.  We hadn't seen him walk with no limp in a couple of years before this trip.

His sister was thrilled to have him playing with her again.

I'll tell you more about our trip in future posts but I had to share this very happy highlight first!

Wordless Wednesday - Desert Finale

Ready for takeoff

Up, up and away!

Shyla gallops across "Shyla's Mesa"

R works the cavalettis - Doesn't every campsite have cavalettis?

Workout done, R was back on duty guarding camp.

Shyla and some "Prince's Plumes"

A stalk of Prince's Plume Blossoms

A single flower on a Prince's Plume

Sunset Light on my Girl

Final evening in a rugged campsite