I’ve been going solo, of late. In some ways, it’s the whole “the more things change the more the stay the same” or “it all comes back around” kind of thing that is present tense at this moment in time, for me; I used to pretty much always hike and bike alone.
I like it.
Clip in and go, get the heart rate up and then … a regal buck deer prances across the trail. His friends did not run off, though.
Until they did:
East Side > West Side > Cold Stream/Spring > on up to Soapstone > CA R&H > La Cima > Lucky 5 > back through > down Green Valley > jump over and past visitor center > West Side > East Side
Autumn in the mountains settles in my bones, giving me comfort. We all will die, and hopefully we can go out in the grace and patience of autumnal beauty … the rustling of leaves in trees before falling to the ground … the last blazes of colors … the descending air temperatures …
I breathe and pedal non-stop all the way to Lucky 5, not seeing another human being the entire time.
So much beauty out there …
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