Winter Snowshoe Hike to Francie's Cabin - My World

Have you ever attempted to hike in winter when there are feet of snow on the ground? It's not just a matter of walking out the door into the wilderness (though the wilderness IS right out my door). Some time-consuming preparations are necessary.

I  check the temperature and dress appropriately. On this particular day, it's only 14 degrees, so several wicking layers (both top and bottom) are necessary. My outer shell and snow pants are lightweight but water and wind proof. I wear snowshoes with neoprene booties that fit tightly over my running shoes. Gaiters fasten over the booties and reach up my pants to my knees to keep me dry. Down gloves, a soft neck gaiter, and a fleece hat with ear coverings help protect from the cold. The hat is attached to my coat with a small bungee cord. I can either wear it or take it off quickly and let it dangle if I start overheating.

I carry a backpack with 50 ounces of water and packets of food - orange slices, nuts, an energy bar, and "Gu" which is mainly sugar and caffeine (yucky) and consumed only if I start seriously lagging. I stuff an extra pair of gloves and another top layer in the pack just in case. I always carry emergency items that I hope I won't need: chemical hand and toe warmers, medical supplies, matches, a pocket knife, and extra sunscreen. Of course, my small camera and cell phone come along, too, though the cell is out of range for most the hike.

Burro Trail

As I start up the trail, the pack feels very heavy because I haven't worn it since summer. However, after I loosen the chest strap a bit I forget about its weight. Instead, I feel exhilaration at being on a solo adventure. My destination is Francie's Cabin, which is located in a mountain cirque above tree-line just off Peak 10. I know the trip there will take me over 2 hours, depending on how often I must stop to rest.

Hare Tracks

 Leaving my property, the trail immediately begins a gentle incline. I notice that a coyote has visited very recently. His paw prints are etched in the inch of new snow that has fallen this morning. It's too cold to remove my glove for a photo. I walk in silence, noticing animal tracks and stopping occasionally to catch my breath. Soon, I generate enough body heat to keep me comfortably warm. 

Lichen on Aspen

The wind is blowing the tops of the tall Lodgepoles, but I feel protected in the depth of the forest.
In a white world, bright lichens provide a stunning contrast. 

Old Man's Beard

In one area, trees are covered in Old Man's Beard.

Finally, at the junction of the Burro Trail  and Crystal Lake Trail, I stop and remove the pack.
It's time for a treat before starting the steep climb upward. 

Crystal Lake Trail requires more effort. I make myself take at least 20 steps before stopping to lean on my poles for 5 breaths. High altitude puts a strain on the body. There are roughly 40% fewer oxygen molecules per breath, so to properly oxygenate the body, breathing rate (even while at rest) has to increase. The heart and lungs both work harder to pump needed oxygen to the cells. Since I live at altitude, I'm acclimated to less oxygen. However, people who arrive to exercise from sea level must be very mindful about altitude sickness, which can be fatal. 

Above 11, 000', a shrub is already showing lime-green buds. 

A small trickle of water allows moss to grow under a protective hood of snow.
However, Crystal Creek, which rages to the side of the trail in the summer, is silent under its blanket of ice and snow.

Finally, at the end of a tunnel of trees, Mount Helen comes into view. Just as I step into the bowl above treeline, the sun breaks through the clouds.

Francie's Cabin is part of the Summit Hut System. It is situated near timberline at about 11, 300', in the Crystal Creek drainage on the flank of Peak 10 of Colorado's Tenmile Range, a ridge of ten peaks that runs north and south in Summit County, CO.

Welcome to Francie's Cabin!

I don't approach too closely, respecting the privacy of the people who are renting the hut.
However, their view of Crystal Peak, Quandary, and the Mosquito Range is magnificent.

It took me 2 hours and 45 minutes to reach my destination, so I can't tarry. I must turn around and start down immediately. As soon as the sun drops lower in the sky, the temperature will also plummet. I want to be snug in my house before the light dims too much. 

Approaching home, I'm thinking about hot tea and a seat by the fire.

 I'm tired but happy. The hike took me less than 5 hours. 

Thanks for coming with me - you're good company!

My World

My Two Worlds

When I'm in Denver, I walk miles and miles.

I ramble through posh city neighborhoods and along scruffy urban streets.

I stroll through zoos and museums. I sit at cafes and people-watch.

I spend time with Grandchildren.

The city is a whirl of activity.

But, it can also be quiet, tranquil.

I've spent the past 10 days in spring-like temperatures in Denver, CO.

Now, I've migrated back to my mountain home.

Snow continues to fall at high elevation. 

In 90 miles, I've moved from an emerging spring back into winter.

I'm welcomed home by icicles and snow.

I think I have the best of both Worlds.

My World!

Talking to Wildlife

I've had a strange week.

Along the banks of Cherry Creek,
Ducks wrote me a note I couldn't quite decipher.

It led me to this Rabbit
who told me a secret about Lucinda.

Lucinda said she was too busy to chat.

So, I followed Peacock

who introduced me to Goose.

He suggested I check with Penguin
who had a knowing smile on his face.

Penguin pointed the way to Ram
who was kibitzing with Goat.

Goat demurred but felt Crane might help.

Crane honked in surprise, but thought I'd best try Hippo.

Hippo delivered the message:

Accept yourself.

Find the beauty hidden deep within.

You are more than enough.

A Well Kept Secret - My World

Even in cities, there are vast open spaces.

Coyote tracks lead to the horizon.

Ponds freeze into milky azure.

Ice is the color of sky.

Winter whispers in muted tones.

Listen carefully to its meaning.

It has a secret to share.

Photos taken in Denver, CO, Feb.11/12, 2011

My World

Collecting My Thoughts

In Denver for the weekend, I took a walk in City Park.

Snow fell overnight and filigreed the trees and fenceposts.

Wet snow stuck to my boots and muffled my footsteps.

The sky was pewter and tarnished silver.

The landscape lay before me in perfect repose.

A lone tear made a wet channel down my cheek.

But, I was also smiling.

As I walked, I was remembering a little girl.

At home, I wrote my memories for her Family.

The Remembrance is posted at One Good Thing.

Sadness

Today, I'm sharing a tragic story. I write it down because I must still convince myself that it is reality. Yesterday morning, we heard emergency sirens coming up our street. Medics and firemen and police ran into our young neighbors' house. Minutes later, we got a call to come quickly. Their two year old needed tending while the parents accompanied their five year old daughter to the hospital. They had gone to awaken little C for preschool and found her with no pulse.

We brought A to our home. She laughed and played with our Grandchildren's toys. We rocked her and read her stories. We smiled to mask constant worry. We hoped and prayed.

In the afternoon, we got the heartbreaking news:  C is dead. She had gone to bed Sunday night, a healthy happy child. She did not awaken on Monday morning.

The loss of a child is unthinkable. We can only hold the parents, stroking their backs, and cry with them. There is nothing to do or say to make the heavy burden of loss lighter. Today Grandparents and Family arrive from all over the country. They'll  drive toward the mountains to the house where one child is missing. I know the dread they feel in their hearts.

This morning, I took two year old A to her Mommy and Me Class. We danced and clapped and sang. She looked at me from under her thick, dark lashes for her cues. I prepared myself for the same questions she asked several times yesterday: "Where is C?" "When will she come home?" But today, a bright, happy two year old settled into the routine of her life. She'll miss her big sister and cry for her, but thankfully the finality doesn't constantly constrict her heart as it does for the adults.

C was cherished from birth to death. She was a well-cared-for, well-loved child. She lived her young life knowing only this: LOVE. In our old and broken Grandparent hearts, my Husband and I find some solace in the idea of continual, binding Love. Perhaps in time, the Parents and Family will rest in the knowledge of this ongoing Love, too.

In the end, LOVE is our only consolation. 

Sunset, Sunday, Jan 30, 2011 - Do you see the pink heart cloud rising in the sky?

I will take a break from blogging. I am feeling a grief beyond words. 

I have nothing to share with you right now but sadness.