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A Cold Reward

IkemanTX

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 16, 2015
Messages
3,500
Well, since there has been a recent focus on storytelling with our hunts, I thought I'd share a non-hunting related story from this past summer's family vacation.

A Cold Reward:
Three hours of meandering on a four wheeler through maintained gravel roads, logging tracks, and decades old mining roads brought us to a steep bend in the road situated below a mountain peak. The view was much like what we had enjoyed all day, high grass covered valleys and wooded mountainsides. What made this different was the snow. Small, melting patches were all that remained to remind you of the brutal winters that made this place all but inaccessible for six months out of the year. Being from Texas, our eight year old had spent the entire week wanting to touch snow in July, amazed that could even be possible. These beautiful white patches seemed so close we had to try. After parking on a precarious flat spot beside the road, we set out on our crusade. Getting off the road, and onto the hillsides, we were quickly reminded of the thin air. At 11,600 feet our pace would not be very quick. Our first reward, though, was countless varieties of wild flowers that we had been unable to see from a distance. Yellows, blues, reds and purples of all shapes and sizes surrounded our feet as we made our way up the steep valley's side. After just a few hundred yards, we came across a plant that looked much like hostas stretching tall toward the sky. They filled the lowest portion of a little side valley, spilling into the grass below like a river into a sea. Beneath them was a low carpet of little blue flowers. Our son, only visible from the shoulders up, proclaimed they were a welcome relief from the "itchy" grass. Further up, we struggled to find a way into the pines, which were edged with a ring of waist high briars. After finding a path through we found ourselves in a wonderland of dappled shade with blue and purple bell shaped flowers everywhere. We stood in awe as countless hummingbirds protested our presence, bickering over territory with endless chatter. The scene, so peaceful, almost made it seem wrong to continue our trek up. Only 200 yards later, and we met up with a hiking trail. A quarter mile in, and already 250 feet higher than we started. As we joined the trail, the tall pines began to lose height. From here on, grass would dominate the landscape. Were it not for the thin air, the final quarter mile would almost seem like a stroll. Our son's excitement grew as the peak inched closer, the ultimate teaser being a small patch of snow spanning a small crevasse with a small stream flowing beneath its span. Almost anticlimactically, we rounded the corner below the pass to find our final destination. SNOW. Unable to wait any longer, our son dove onto it giggling. Several snowballs might have been thrown, and a couple snow angels just had to be made. Our son's goals met, I struggled to get him to walk the last two hundred yards to reach mine. The view from the pass was beyond description. Rolling mountaintops, sinking valleys, and far away rivers. There is no greater experience than to stand at a summit and truly understand how small you are.


A view from the ride
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The flora (Columbine)
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The snowy crevasse
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Above the pines
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The snow!
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And, the pass
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