March '10
Taking a Walk
Not long after moving to the Grand Valley I began walking different trails in the area. There are more trails than one can walk in a season as most of you who walk trails know. When I asked different people about trails, they would describe walks that were much longer than my timid efforts. My first excursions on side trails just off Little Park Road seemed like great excursions into the unknown and for me they were. The trails led through slots in canyon walls and the distances seemed so great.
Every day was a new day until one day when I realized that I was reviewing familiar vistas, watching for little signs that I had walked exactly along one ledge rather than along the trail or stumbling along a rock outcrop rather than taking a smoother path. It was then that my exploring really began. I began to leave the trail and wander off into dead ends and up side canyons where no trails existed. It was not unusual to wander over into the next canyon only to discover a herd of deer or see a lone elk.
These days, my walks are substantially longer than those first tentative explorations. I may be more goal oriented and willing to walk farther but I’m still prone to wandering off trail now and then into side canyons or around the back way just to see what’s there. When I wander off trail I learn more about the terrain and how the trails were created as well as how it is decided where trails should and should not go. Knowing the terrain, gaining familiarity with the geology gives me confidence I need to go the distance. Also, have you ever noticed how long it takes to get someplace the first time you go there and how short it seems when you’ve taken that route a few times. That is what is happening for me now. Walks that seemed adventures are now paths to new places to explore and don’t seem nearly as long as before.
The season has a lot to do with a walk, too. One of my favorite walks (it’s really one of Penny’s favorites) is now such a mixture of ice, snow, mud, and rock that it’s impossible to really know where I can and can’t walk. The trail is easier in all snow and ice than in the mixture of snow, ice and melt. I walked it the other day and had no problems until I crested a rise and began walking down what should have been a dry trail. It looked dry but, even though it was a south face, there was still snow in the rut made by mountain bikes. I followed foot prints around the lose snow pack and slid about eighteen inches on my first step. I slid another eighteen inches on my second step and had to run down the hill to keep from falling in the mud and rocks.
Oh well, the girls next door were sweeping the sidewalk yesterday afternoon and wanted to talk while they worked. As they swept dead grass back and forth across the sidewalk they both seemed ready to leap for joy at the changing season. The day was warm and beautiful and I could not resist the blessing of youthful wisdom. It was (is) indeed a day for which to be grateful. What is that saying; in like a lamb out like a lion or is it the other way around? In Colorado it’s hard to tell.
