All That Glitters...

All that glitters may not be gold, but in the Colorado high country at this time of year it's impossible to miss the spectacular harbinger of winter that is the changing of the Aspen. I grew up in the northeast where the fall colors are truly magnificent and nature's palette is far broader than the primarily gold that colors our mountainsides but all in all I'll take a crisp, cool fall day in Colorado staring at blazing gold trees anytime.

I have the luxury of being able to be in the high country when most folks are tied to their desks and am free to explore minus the crowds. The last couple of days I spent wandering the lower reaches of Independence Pass around the small hamlet of Twin Lakes. Every year it's anyone's guess as to when the Aspen colors will peak. Driving through Leadville I was afraid that I had missed the best of the Fall colors as the Aspen trees at the higher elevations seem to be past their prime but dropping down towards Twin Lakes the colors got brighter and more spectacular. Twin Lakes is the eastern portal to the road to Aspen over Independence Pass  and offers a spectacular juxtaposition of the deep gold color of the Aspen against the deep blues of the lakes with the backdrop of the mountains highlighted by our clear Colorado skies.

I drove to Denver on Friday and of course noticed the crowds of folks heading the oppposite way up I-70 on their weekend pilgrimage and know that the parking lots, pullouts, and trails will be mobbed at the most scenic spots. For those of you unwilling, or unable, to brave the crowded high country this weekend here is a sample of what this year's foliage show...

Pedal the Plains is all grown up

My wife and I have done several Ride the Rockies over the years so when the folks at the Denver Post added a new ride several years ago focused on the eastern plains we were intrigued. The Pedal the Plains ride started a lot smaller than its larger RTR cousin with a couple of hundred riders inundating small communities in the heart of Farmland, Colorado. Granted, Farmland, Colorado is not generally high on the list of vacation destinations but for three days in mid-September the chance to do some late season cycling on quiet rural (and generally flat!) roads was still attractive enough to get us off the couch and dust off the two-wheeled steeds.

This last weekend my wife Sophie rode this year's version starting out in Kersey (just east of Greeley) and then meandering on back roads to Keenesburg, Brush, and then back to Kersey. I opted to be lazy and do the sag duties which includes doing the hard work of sitting in an air conditioned car as I drive from town to town where I set up the tent. Being sag support is not something I've done before but for this trip thought I'd give it a try.

The 2017 Pedal the Plains, perhaps due to its close proximity to the Denver metro area, attracted over 1,000 riders so my wife was always in good company as she cruised the windswept prairie. The host communities really did a nice job of welcoming the riders and the meals, entertainment, and camping venues were very well planned. There was even a real lunch provided  on each day's ride at one of the rest stops, something they weren't offering the last time we did the ride. The weather held out with a little rain on the tent Saturday night but the morning overcast each day quickly burned off to feature the spectacular blue Colorado skies our state is famous for. Day Two featured a Century Plus option of riding 115 miles that attracted a lot of additional riders to come out just for that day's ride. Sophie opted for the 62 mile regular option which was probably wise as there were still Century Plus riders out on the course at 7 p.m. 115 miles is a huge accomplishment and kudos to those hearty riders but the three day riders who partook of this longer option were still facing the final day's 72 miles bright and early the next morning.

Fortunately the wind Gods smiled and on Sunday riders were treated to mostly tailwinds gently pushing them on towards their final destination of Kersey. At the finish line medals and hugs were handed out before the cycling horde climbed back into their four wheel behemoths and scattered to the four corners but I'll bet many of them are already looking forward to next year's version of a now very grown up Pedal the Plains.

Not all who wander...

Not all who wander are lost. And not all who wonder are crazy. One of the things I am finding I enjoy most about retirement is having the time to think about things I never had the time for when I was working. I've always been a wanderer at heart and I've come to find that the wandering of the mind is called wonder.

This last weekend I spent time camping, hiking, biking (and yes, wandering and wondering) in Goblin Valley State Park. Goblin Valley is about an hour southwest of Green River, Utah. For those who have been there you know what a special place it is. It was my first trip and I went specifically to film the rock 'Goblins' that abound in this secluded park. It's not a huge park but it makes up for its relatively small size by packing in a combination of great hiking, beautiful mountain biking trails, spectacular scenery, and at night a sky so full of stars it takes your breath away. In less than an hour one night I watched no fewer than ten satellites mosey across the starry backdrop only to be chased toward the horizon by the far faster, but more elusive, shooting stars. In the middle of this high desert with no city or even town lights to invade the show the night sky is not far different than it was for Native Americans gazing up five hundred or a thousand years ago. The park itself sits in a basin that millions of years ago was an inland sea and to the northwest the San Rafael Reef gives proof of a seashore where million-year old ripples lie frozen in time.

As I sat in my chair late into the evening gazing at the heavens Hurricane Irma was roaring across Florida after wreaking havoc across the Caribbean. Whether one believes in global warming or not most of the changes the earth goes through make a human lifetime less than a blink of geological time. The rocks around me, themselves once lapped by gentle waves of a bygone past, bore silent testimony of what can happen over enormous amounts of time. Even the starlight entering my wondering eyes was years old taking that long at the speed of light (186,000 miles per second) to reach me from those distant suns. They say the universe is expanding at a rate that means it will continue to expand forever. I wonder what it is like at the very edge of the universe; what is is our universe expanding into? If you were on the farthest star at this farthest edge and looked out, what would you see?

The Voyager spacecraft is man's most prolific wanderer now traveling beyond the sphere of our planetary system at a speed of a mere 40,000 miles per hour. I wonder what will happen to Voyager when it is as old as the rocks that stand mute about me. While I'll never wander a billionth the distance of this intrepid emissary of mankind in my wondering I'm looking back and waiting for Voyager to catch up. In the meantime, I've got a bike to ride...