Looking back

I know I haven't written a new blog in ages, but I do have something of a good excuse.

I've had the subject of today's post in mind since we took this short hike on Christmas day. But by putting it off during that next week, I unwittingly consigned it to an early February submission. Just a bit over a week after the hike, Henry and I both tested positive for covid. We were very, very fortunate (especially for old people) to have relatively mild cases. But the anxiety that the positive test kicks into high gear, coupled with a rather annoying persistence of fatigue, has made thinking about something as productive as blogging well nigh impossible for the past several weeks.

But although I'm not completely back to "normal" I do finally feel up to sharing our Christmas Mission Reach stroll with you.

We started off at Confluence Park, which has been completed since our last visit. (In fact, the long length of time since we'd seen this section of the river was our main impetus for heading there on this lovely Christmas afternoon: we knew the whole area would look much different than the last time we'd seen it.)

As you can see above, the park's pavilion is quite impressive, with broad steps leading down to the walk along the river. And our wonderful river is always worth re-visiting. Here's a panoramic view looking upstream...

Notice the watercraft chute that provides a fun and easy way to traverse that little rapid. When spring is a bit more advanced, we'll have to return to the Mission Reach with our boats! (See pix from a previous paddling outing here.)

There's always an abundance of waterfowl on display since the river has been de-channelized, and there are a couple of handsome fellows in this picture, but unfortunately my little camera doesn't have the kind of lens that would make them easily visible. I mainly took this shot because I was taken with the human-made geometric visual interest. The bridge that takes you over this drainage gives you quite a nice vantage point to admire these features. They're no doubt functional, but I rather just like the way they look...

And I always like the reflections of sun on water...and both were in abundance on this day:

I hope my energy will continue to return so that I can get out and about and find more sights to share with you as 2021 progresses.

Wordless Wednesday: our Dwarrowdelf

 

Wordless Wednesday: Reflections

 

Wild Things

notice the Lego-info

 In addition to scads of live-animal exhibits that are fascinating and so well set up, our zoo has some whimsical animal statuary throughout the grounds that is just as amazing.

Here are a few pieces for your enjoyment!

sorry this one is a little fuzzy

this is my favorite Lego

Even more eye-catching and wonderful than the Lego animals is this wonderful homage to the hippopotamus...

the birds aren't part of the sculpture...

...and I wonder if they're disappointed
in the lack of bugs on the hippo "skin"

Midas taking his time

We got to see much better color this year in mid-September than last. But, as you can see from the photo above, taken the day we left, things still had a way to go. (For how they looked a few weeks later, see the end of this post.)

But I thought that the progression from just turning to about midway there was interesting enough to share with you.

I got pretty excited on Sept. 17, when I saw the leaves starting to get yellow-y green...

On the 18th things were a little yellow-y-er...

On the 19th, it really started to pick up...

And even though we knew better times were to come, on the 20th things looked pretty good...

We really thought the surprise snowstorm (and accompanying low temperatures) would turbocharge the color change, but eventually we had to admit that Midas was determined to be slow. The color was pretty nice before we left, but we only learned how much further the old guy had to go when our nephew and his family dropped by on their way to Utah a few weeks later. Yikes! It really got gold!

out the windshield along Highway 50

our sweet niece, adorable great-niece, and friend on our deck

Wordless Wednesday: aspens are always golder over the propane tanks?

 

Hikes old and new

from left to right: Bald Mt., Clover (which I have actually climbed,
when much younger! it's just under 13,000') and Aetna
(NOTE: this photo is from our second hike)

 Last time I showed you some of the views we had on our Colorado hikes last month, and I promised more positive images this time. So here we go!

The first hike we took was a very familiar one, along the Monarch Crest Trail southward from the pass. At the beginning, as you can see here, there was considerable evidence of tree-culling...

...but there were also long stretches of healthier-looking forests, as well as a considerable amount of residual snow, reminders of our surprise September storm:

As I showed you last time, many of the normally amazing distant views from this trail were obscured by smoke, but the sights nearer at hand were beautifully visible. Like Mt. Peck, which Henry probably briefly considered climbing; I've done it once before, though, and knew I was much too out-of-shape to handle it this time. It's not even close to a 14-er (it's just over 12,000) but that's an atmosphere that's still too thin for flat-lander old ladies!

And of course there's the Crest gondola, not working because of both covid and the fact that we were past its normal closing date. But it's still a handy landmark that makes it east to orient yourself, no matter where you are on the neighboring trails...

In fact, we were able to triangulate in on it throughout our second hike, too. And although it covered familiar terrain, it was a completely new hike for us. Hard to believe that we hadn't ever walked it, in all the years that we've been coming up here! 

Anyway, on the right is a shot of the gondola, through the trees, from the north side. We decided to try a different way to get from Old Monarch Pass to the new one this time, to make a loop instead of just going back and forth along the Pacific drainage side of the Divide. (One of my nephews, when young, always wanted to know if the trail they were starting out on was a "yoop" or not, so I'm always tempted to use that pronunciation when describing a loop trail. It is an important distinction that he picked up on very early!)

Walking along the Continental Divide is always a truly awesome experience, if you stop to consider where any spit (or other bodily fluid) will eventually end up—Atlantic or Pacific—depending on which way you aim.

Our "new" trail is one that starts just a bit down the Atlantic side from the pass and winds through some very nice scenery on its way to the new pass, not much over a mile away. From this side of the "yoop" there are wonderful views of our local group of mountains (see the photo at the top of the post, too). Here you can see Mts. Aetna and Taylor; the latter is right across the highway from our cabin...

The higher ones further to the right we think might be 14-ers Tabeguache and Shavano. (I am related to people who have climbed Shavano, a feat I'm okay knowing I'll never be able to match.)

There was still plenty of snow here, too, even making the trail a little muddy in spots...

Unfortunately, though a lot of this forest looked pretty healthy, there were still reminders that all is not well with these spruces (another cute kid-pronunciation, this one from our oldest granddaughter, who is quite fond of "boo pooce" trees )...

I hear that beetle-infested lumber actually makes beautiful paneling (google it). I guess that could count as a silver lining to this plague, but I can't believe it's worth all this damage to the forests.

As we got closer to the new pass, more culling became impossible to ignore. But here's an interesting, new (to us) view of the Monarch Crest gift shop, home of scrumptious fudge, as well as other treats, clothing, and supplies.

It's also where, in non-covid summers, you get your gondola tickets...

We didn't stop in this time (having already bought our fudge after the first hike), but just "yooped" around and headed back along the Pacific drainage side of our loop. Here's highway 50 wiggling away down the western side of the pass:

From this side, you can (on non-smoky days) see much further. Most of these views I've already showed you. But here's a nice shot of Mt. Ouray, an almost 14-er that people I'm related to have also climbed (but I'm okay saying I never will)...

The biggest, and most inconvenient, patch of snow we encountered was just before we got back to the car at the old pass...

Fortunately, we were wearing hiking boots! What a great hike this was! Next time the kids are with us, we'll be sure to take them on it. It's a testament to how wonderful our little piece of the Rockies is, that after all these years there are still new paths to discover. I'm sure there are more...maybe we'll go on another new hike next year.