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.

Changes

One of the gifts that has been bestowed on me since K's death is a deeper friendship with R. Although his heart will always belong mainly to the Runner, R has taken on a new role in my life. He sits close to me whenever I'm home alone, and he looks at me with a depth of spirit that I've never seen from him before.

During our trip to Southwest Colorado, I spent some time playing training games with R every day that I could muster the enthusiasm for it. One training game was teaching him a calmer "stay". You can see his calmness in this photo next to a lake where we camped for one night.

Even when enticing scents wafted his way, he stayed for me albeit with his nose high in the air.

It was the only night that we've spent in an organized "campground" in a very long time (we prefer camping in out-of-the-way places) but the views of the lake were well worth the tradeoff of being close to other campers.

The lake became even more beautiful as the sun began to set behind lingering thunder clouds.

I showed you the full orange and pink sunset over this lake yesterday. Mother Nature is an incredible artist.

And, of course, when a Lab like R is close to water, you know what happens. This is my black and white photo for this Sunday.

As my friendship with R is evolving, I find myself wondering whether he's going to be happy to "share" us humans when a new dog inevitably joins our family sometime in the future. R has taken on many of K's former roles - simply by being my nearby companion almost all the time. He's also become an enthusiastic snuggler, seeking out opportunities to cuddle up close to me, a new personality trait for him. Although I wish with all my heart that K was still here, I do love the new side of R that's emerging.

See Beautiful - A day late

For the past month, I have felt as if I've been floating aimlessly in time, and, true to form, I forgot that yesterday was "See Beautiful" Friday. Thus, I am celebrating seeing beauty a day late. I must admit that, for weeks after K died, I took very few photos of the world around me. Everything looked drab, dark, and colorless. Very gradually, I've started noticing the beauty around me again, a tiny bit at a time.

I ran across this beautiful Native American Prayer that is comforting to me as I remember K and realize that her beautiful spirit is still with me.

I give you this one thought to keep -

I am with you still – I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awake in the morning’s hush

I am the swift, uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not think of me as gone -

I am with you still – in each new dawn.

I wished that K was with me physically, "covering my back", while I checked a trail camera that had taken incredible photos of a muscular and sinewy mountain lion. This lion is graceful, strong, smart, and beautiful. I am so grateful that a few of these animals survived the scourge of the bounty hunters who tried to wipe them out in the first half of the last century.

Look at the graceful curve of the lion's back...

... and, his powerful shoulders and long neck.

Check out the inquisitive look the lion adopted when he noticed the camera and sniffed the air.

What a beautiful creature. He survives by being invisible to humans while living among us. I love that my remote trail cameras can catch glimpses of his life.

While the mountain lion was visiting my trail camera, I was in the high mountains of Southwestern Colorado, rediscovering their beauty. I must admit that regret was mixed with awe as we gazed at beautiful mountain scenes. The scenes would have been even more beautiful if K had been with us to witness them. One evening, we saw a glorious sunset over a mountain lake.

I think that "seeing beautiful" is a state of mind. Love and beauty go together. I tend to think that things and beings that I love are beautiful. That link has never been more apparent to me than over the past month.

News from our break

During my blogging break, we decided that a trip to the high mountains would help us to heal despite my terror of the emotions associated with K not being with us in our favorite places.

Early on the day that we departed for the high mountains, I headed out for a spin on my mountain bike to loosen up my back before the car ride. I planned a quick and relaxed bike ride.

The ride did not end up being relaxed. As I pedaled up to the apex of a high ridge, I gasped. A plume of smoke was rising from the south side of the ridge and blowing across the trail in front of me.

It wasn't a huge fire, yet. However, it was breezy on the ridge. And, beyond a doubt, I was the only one on Earth who knew that this fire was burning. With my hands shaking, I ripped off my backpack and rummaged for my cell phone. Fortunately, it was with me. I dialed 9-1-1 and talked with dispatch.

The operator wanted an estimate of the size of the area that was burning. As you can tell from my photo, it wasn't easy to see because the ridge fell off so steeply. So, as I talked with the operator, I hiked down toward the source of the smoke. I could see that multiple patches were burning as the fire skipped its way up the hillside but I still couldn't see the main source. I walked further downhill, and the operator abruptly informed me that he could hear the fire crackling. He seemed to panic - and told me, rapid-fire - to hang up the phone and run.

So, I hung up and pedaled away from the fire. Then, I called my friend who has a scanner and asked her to monitor whether the fire crews understood the fire's location. She soon called back to say that the crews were going to the wrong place - a site a few miles away. So, I called 9-1-1 again, and I told them that I'd meet the fire crews down on a road at the base of the ridge to show them where the fire was.

I pointed my bike down the hillside and rumbled straight downhill, taking the shortest route even though I was riding through private property. I arrived down on the road and intercepted a fire truck. As I explained where the fire was, my cell phone rang, with dispatch calling me again for directions to the fire.  The embarrassing part was that I'd stashed my cell phone in my bra because it was ringing so often that I needed easy access to it. The firefighter and I had a chuckle as I reached down my jersey to silence my ringing jog-bra.

In the end, about 20 fire trucks and at least one helicopter arrived on the scene. They stopped the fire before it topped the ridge and entered a forested area. Thank goodness... I visualized disaster for all of us if the fire had gone over the ridge.

In case you're curious, the fire was caused by a lightning strike two days earlier. The storm included a downpour, preventing the fire from immediately erupting. By two days later, it was hot, dry, and breezy, which caused the tree that had been smoldering for days to burst into flames.

So, my ride that morning didn't turn out to be even vaguely relaxing.

Fortunately, we did have a relaxing vacation, although every moment was tinged with sadness, and waves of rage would engulf me when I realized, over and over again, that K wasn't physically with us.

We went to the mountains, and they brought us good tidings (John Muir). R played in mountain lakes, and we reveled in his youth and amazing athletic grace. We realized that, although we're very sad right now, these are still precious days for R and for us. Indeed, every day on this Earth is gift. We learned that lesson from K's amazing spirit for joy and love - even when her body was ravaged by cancer.

R is at the peak of his life. He adores retrieving from water. Here, he sprinted toward the lake's edge.

He launched himself into the air.

He lowered his landing gear as he reached for the water to retrieve a stick.

I'll tell you more about our trip in the coming days. To be honest, I was terrified of our first camping trip without K, and rightly so. I couldn't sleep very well because of the hole in our family, and I felt like a piece of me was missing. But, in between those painful emotions, I also realized that we shouldn't squander precious days together. We found moments of peace and joy. That's what life is all about, and it's what K would want for us.

Wordy Wednesday

Thanks to all of you for your words of wisdom and encouragement. I have climbed partway out of the abyss today, and your wonderful comments helped a lot. I do smile out of love when I remember K but I also still grieve very deeply.

I've spent time with R over the past few days, and his happy attitude never ceases to make me smile.

 We witnessed a post-storm sunset to be remembered.

And, I managed to captured another photo of a bear visiting a big anthill. He or she dug around a lot but my camera wasn't positioned perfectly so I didn't capture the digging. I'm not sure which of our bears this is. The camera is now in a better position so we'll get a good look next time.

I've decided to take a break from blogging to spend some time with the two R's. I'll be back before too long. Thanks again for all of your support. If you haven't yet voted for my trail camera photo, I'd be incredibly grateful if you could vote so that I can win another trail camera. I explained how to vote in this post. Thanks!!!!

Goodbye?

I woke up this morning in the middle of a dream where someone was saying to me - "It's time for you to say goodbye to K". I went out onto the deck to drink my coffee while watching the hummingbirds buzz around, a time that K and I used to share. I thought about the concept of "saying goodbye".

All day, those words have hung with me, rattling through my brain like an ear worm that won't go away. As I've pondered them, I realized that I never really say goodbye to any of my departed dogs - and I'll never truly say goodbye to my heart dog, K. She'll remain part of my heart forever, and I'll keep thinking of her all the time. I see K in my mind's eye every single day, so vibrant and loving.

When a dog is still part of me, I have to deny that I ever really say "goodbye". I continue to let them be part of my soul even though they aren't physically here anymore.

I won't lie - these are hard times. I am fighting with all my will not to let the darkness take over but it creeps up on me when I let my guard down. I physically hurt because my beautiful and loving K isn't here with me anymore. For some reason, I received the gift of K's love... and I miss it so much.

At the same time, I try to do things to keep myself from falling in the inky black abyss - playing with R, riding my bike, seeing my friends, and going for hikes. And, I write blog posts, usually trying to be happy and upbeat. Today, I'll tell you truth that I've fallen into the darkness. Tomorrow, I hope, I'll be able to tell you that I'm climbing out again.

This boy's goofy antics do help!

But, despite R's smile-inducing games, I still miss my girl so much that I hurt.

Sorry for this "downer" post but, some days, I just need to be truthful.

Thanks to all of you who voted in the trail camera contest. If you missed yesterday's post, I'd be very grateful if you could check it out and quickly cast a vote for my photo. Thanks!

Ferocious face and bears!

We had a canine visitor today, and R had a wild wrestling game with him.

R looked far more ferocious in that photo than any of the bears that I've ever photographed with my trail cameras. I entered one of my favorite bear photos from this year in a contest. This big male bear was marking a tree during mating season.

I'd like to ask a favor. I'd be incredibly grateful if you could go to the Trailcampro photo contest and vote for my photo. To do so, click on this LINK and then, on that page, click "VOTE HERE". My photo is number 138 in the "US and Canadian Category". Please notice that you are *not* required to give your name and email address. You can just vote for my photo by entering its number. The winner gets a trail camera.

As you know, I adore trail cameras so I'd be incredibly happy to win. My trail cameras have been such fun, even through the inevitible tough times.

Every year, I use trail cameras to stake out bear marking trees to see the crazy marking dances done by the males during mating season.

And, I watch closely for the new cubs that appear each year. We followed this family for all of last summer.

Finally, I even sometimes get lucky enough to find an occupied bear den in the winter, like in 2010. K and I were out for a hike in the snow, and I noticed a hole under some rocks. We investigated and found three bears snuggled in the cave. I posted a trail camera next to the den, and I got to witness the secret life of a bear family as it emerged from hibernation in the spring.

Here, mom appeared to be telling her yearling cubs to behave themselves.

But the two cubs had irrepressible energy. This was one of the funnier play photos that I captured.

So, if I win the contest, I will be over-the-moon happy to win another trail camera, and I promise to share the photos that I capture with you.

Here are the instructions on how to vote once more: Click on this LINK and then click "VOTE HERE". My photo is number 138 in the "US and Canadian Category". Please notice that you are *not* required to give your name and email address. You can just vote for my photo by entering its number.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!!

Play, play, play

I've been trying to do special things to help R and me heal our hearts. So, the other day, we headed over to Dream Valley Ranch for R to play with their new puppy, Huck.

Lots of chasing and playing "keep away" ensued. R would lay claim to a toy and entice Huck into chasing him.

Almost all the photos show the same scene... I love R's eyes peeking over the Monkey toy in the next photo.

Next, it was Mr. Froggie's turn.

It seemed that R had not mastered the art of letting Puppy Huck "win" the game sometimes. When R was a puppy, K would let R think that he'd stolen the toy from her on occasion to keep him interested in playing. I hope that R learns! At least he has learned to wait his turn for a treat...

On a different topic, how many of you get to see this outside your kitchen window (captured by trail camera)? The bear peacefully rested and then walked away, heading for an anthill where my other trail camera photographed him digging for ants.

More about bears tomorrow.

The Happiness Program

We had big and intense lightning storms today. They knocked out the power and phone line almost all day. That's why I didn't post until now!

Something amazing is happening. Both R and I are off-kilter, trying to figure out how to live without K. R never knew a life without his big sister until a little while ago. The amazing thing is that R and I are forging a bond that we've never had before now.

I keep seeing this sad and confused look in R's eyes. His eyes almost show the look in the next photo.

I don't need to tell you that the look in his eyes reflects the deep sadness that I feel.

So, I've decided to institute a "KB and R Happiness Program". Our program involves me teaching R new tricks. R adores learning new things, and I adore training him. So it's a win-win proposition.

Today, I taught him to pick up objects from the ground and deliver them to my hand. He "sort of" knew how to do this trick a couple of years ago. However, because K was my dedicated companion, she picked up everything that I dropped, and R didn't get any practice.

Today, we started with a training bumper that he had to find and bring to my hand. We progressed to all sorts of other objects like a camera bag and a hat. R is so sharp and has a very soft mouth!

After learning to bring me dropped objects, R began to learn how to "take a bow". In his frenzy to figure out what I wanted him to do, he practically threw himself into play bows by the end of the session.

His enthusiasm for training makes me laugh. It's good all around!

Have a great weekend!