This was, in fact, a Thursday. But it was an honorary Tuesday.
After a long night and an early morning, we made our way to collect the rest of our party and wind our way to the majestic ridges that shoot through Colorado. Kevin joined us with enthusiasm, and brought with him a list of tunes and a powerful voice with which to rock out. Our long drive to Hanging Lake was punctuated by Beyonce's Fever and our renditions of her kick-ass vocals.
Upon arrival, we were greeted by concrete walkways and bicyclists. For those of us who had not hiked this trail before, it was incredibly misleading. "1.2 miles?! Paved walkways?! Are we really ending our summer this way?!"
Whoa boy. Were we in for a wonderful surprise.
If you haven't heard about the Hanging Lake trail before, it's understandable. A mile and a half seems like a reasonably short distance, and it's not quite that long. The distance isn't indicative of the difficulty level: this is a briskly challenging hike. It is a steep, rocky trail that is punctuated by sharper grades and a creek that scrambles down the mountainside. The elevation gain is 936 feet, which isn't alarming until you do the math:
Slope= Rise/Run. Rise=936. Run=6600.
The average approximate gradient is then 14.18%.
...Crazy, right?
It was worth every moment.
We were captivated by every waterfall on our way up. The farther you climb, the more beautiful your surroundings. Photo after photo became more pronounces, and our laughter became more frequent as we climbed.
It was at the pinnacle that I was truly blown away. On our way up, we clambered up a set of haphazard stone steps, acting more like outcroppings than a staircase. A family photo took place with much glee.
Zac turned to Suzie with a marvelous thought. With eyes closed and hands clasped, Kevin and I follow them blindly along a wooden boardwalk and past falling water. We hear voices and feel the rush of air as people breeze past.
"Open your eyes," Zac says. "Take a look."
I am witnessing a miraculous place. Green moss set the background for a soaring waterfall, blending into
a sky-blue-mirror of a lake. Children are posing for pictures on a log stretching out into the lake's center. All I can hear is the steady beat of cascading water and the low thrum of people enjoying the same wonder that I am.
I have no words for my breathlessness. In that moment, I wanted nothing but to be a part of the landscape. I wanted only to be a piece of the magic laid before me.
We wandered around the lake, full of laughter and awe. I ventured onto the rocks beneath the falls and marveled. The water's spray, the exhilaration of such a calm blue scene, it was more than enough to fill my heart for the months to follow.
Our adventure continued above the falls. We ascended once more, up the craggy outcroppings, to the source of the water. Laughter reigned supreme.
Eventually, we sauntered back down the mountain. We were left with such jubilation, we could not help but sing. Loudly. For all to hear.
Summers rush in with glad tidings and warm moments, and exit in a whittling of daylight while autumn takes the stage. Trees in full bloom give way to the brightly-colored greetings of fall, and we sink into the daily routine again. Paths part and the wind carries our soft voices yonder, over the fields that roll forever. Dawn colors the sky in joy, to be upstaged by the heat of afternoon pastels, and softly lulled into remission with Dusk's whispered palate.
In a matter of days, we were separated by vast distances, leaving the Colorado Rockies in our rearview mirrors. By Saturday, Zac and I were separated by states. Suzie and Katie would soon follow. Kevin started back at Metro.
Dusk has settled upon our summer. It warms my heart to no end to glance through our photographs, catching smiles and recalling the laughter that accented our journeys.
"Not yet ready to leave home, but eager to begin the school year," I remember thinking. I didn't want Trail Tuesdays to come to an end. It took me over a month to finish these posts, in no small part due to my longing for more of them. By writing these, by counting the pictures and recapitulating the notions, I said my slow, piecemeal goodbye. Goodbye to my friends, goodbye to my family, goodbye to my work and my cat and my mountains and my sunsets. Goodbye to lazy mornings and midday heat and Tuesday hikes and late-night conversations. Goodbye to the ones I've left behind, goodbye to the pajama shorts and tank tops that aren't appropriate for school.
I have never been good with endings. Conclusions to thoughts, essays, ideas, conversations, relationships, friendships, these are all things I struggle to finish. Relinquishing control and letting go of attachment is something I will always find difficulty in. But I found love and laughter, heart and soul, feeling and thought on my journey. When I release one, another takes its place. The lessons we learn from ourselves. Goodness.
I send my love to my dear ones. I wish you all the best.
Devi
