Something For Dad

While we were visiting Rocky Mountain National Park we strolled up to a lookout point at 12,000 feet in the alpine tundra. There we scrambled up come solid rock to find this dial. On the top surface, it has a map of the ranges. On the top edges, it has little points with the names of peaks. If you kneel down, you find even more names of peaks along with their elevation. While kneeling, you can sight the peak with the point on the center of the dial allowing you to know exactly which peak you are looking at! Dad, you would have been up there for a long time!

Other fun elements of the park, the Continental Divide, beautiful lakes and heaps of wildlife!

Though I thought nothing would replace the passion I felt for rock climbing, hopping on my road bike has become my compulsive default. I love the ease of being able to relax and enjoy the scenery or up the ante and go all out all from the moment I leave our garage.


This past Sunday I made quixotic decision to check out some of the numerous pathways surrounding us. Having been knocked down my the mountain the day before while mountain biking, I thought a nice road ride might ease my ego. Without consulting any literature which would provide detail about the trails I was considering, I hastily created my own route.

Hesitant, due to many uncertain factors, Steve agreed to go on the adventure. The sky was blue with pretty puffy clouds and the temperature prestine for riding. We headed off enjoying the seamless travel along the Cherry Creek Path.




We found ourselves on the outskirts of the city able to view Six Flags and the city skyline. Clouds were beginning to condense, but our spirits were high so we continued down the S. Platte River trail. The pathways are well marked and cognoscente we were reaching a fork in the trail, we stopped to view a trail map. Meanwhile, a gentleman and his wife were trying to repair a loose pedal. Steve helped out while I munched my Cliff Bar (I was close to bonking). With a little morsel in my tummy and lightening on the horizon, I was ready to hammer (Steve’s always ready). We hopped on our bikes only to find my front tire was flatter than a Looney Toons character that had just been the victim of an ACME weight.

Being a knight in shining armor, Steve aptly changed my tire as winds continued to pick up pace and the thunderheads raced closer. (I must digress to mention that my early capricious decisions would have left me without air for a flat had my thoughtful and detailed husband not reigned in my excitement.) We rode like horses to a watering hole in the Sahara only to find our connecting trail was packed dirt with a layer of loose gravel on top. This trail (Lee Gulch) is a short stint to the trail we needed. Steve’s words upon assessing the situation still resound in my ears, “Let’s just ride fast before the rain comes.”

Not more than a minute passed until heavy shards of rain poured over us (on the dirt path) like Niagara Falls. We were drenched to the bone, but still quite jovial. Really, what else can you do but laugh? Fortunately, the temperature was not too chilly so weren’t in jeopardy of becoming hypothermic. Our brakes and my derailleur were shot so we walked.

Finally we were back on solid ground and wound our way back home via busy roadways that were familiar and chance back roads that provided more safety from slick roads with traffic. My foot was cemented to my peddle so when we arrived home, safe and sound, my shoe was still attached to my bike! Steve spent quite some time cleaning our bikes after this trip. I have since learned that Colorado is not conducive to quixotic decisions! Life here is unpredictable and one my be prepared with an arsenal of contingent plans!