ON THE WAY back from my recent quinzhee stay I meandered by Brainard Lake. In summer the location can be horrendously busy and the atmosphere far from wild, but on Sunday February 14, with the temperature at minus twelve Fahrenheit (minus twenty-four Celsius), and snow burying the land, and no one else about, it wasn’t
THE FORECAST was irresistible. It called for snow, arrival of an Arctic airmass, and with it the coldest temperatures of winter so far. Overnight lows were forecast to plummet to -13 Fahrenheit, -25 Celsius, which was impressively frigid, or even life-threatening, under certain circumstances. But as I saw it, perfect conditions for my fifth night
I DIDN’T PLAN another blog post this week, but this morning’s atmospheric mists were too irresistible not to photograph, and seeing that I now have photographs, I figured I may as well share them! I’m tempted to write about the morning as well – but I’ll resist that, and let the photos and simple captions
ENCOUNTERS WITH STRANGERS in the mountains can be truly extraordinary. Such meetings are often more intense and meaningful than encounters back in ‘real life’. Here’s a story about one that took place decades ago – along with the heart-warming follow that occurred just last week. As you may know (if you’ve visited my website before)
A short walk on North Table Mountain, February 2, 2021. IT’S NOW BEEN ELEVEN DAYS since I danced a little jig on a loose trail to avoid an out of control dog and badly sprained my ankle. But at last I have some good news: I can finally walk without crutches. But there’s bad news
Golden Cliffs, North Table Mountain, Golden, Colorado I’VE BEEN FEELING considerable sympathy for the many people I know back in Britain who are currently stuck in lockdown. For that reason, I decided to sprain my ankle on Friday and put myself in a comparable situation – stuck at home unable to reach the hills. How’s
Time travel is possible. Yes, it really is! Don’t believe me? Okay, well, consider this… I escaped for another night out this weekend – up in the James Peak Wilderness beneath the Continental Divide. The forecast called for strong winds and up to three inches of snow, so I packed a tent, figuring I’d need
JANUARY 10TH was the first morning of the year that felt like a real winter morning. For sure, it wasn’t close to as cold as January can be, and the single inch of snow was hardly midwinter deep, but for the first time in 2021 the foothills above Golden were white, and for the first
WHAT A WEEK! One could despair, very easily. But honestly – what would that achieve? Or one could head outdoors… The year’s second night out took place a modest six-mile walk from home. I’ve been outdoors every day of the year so far, loping in shorts over sun-kissed hills, but finally on the year’s ninth