It is fair to say, we get around. At our last home, we spent hours upon recreational hours on the Edge of America, the local nickname for Folly Beach. Somewhere we've got pictures of the four of us in Death Valley, at the lowest point below sea level on the continent. Today, we went the opposite direction, and played around on the highest paved road in the U.S. And for the first time, I wasn't relegated to riding shotgun on this trip. I drove up the hill, knowing that holding on to the steering wheel is the best antidote for my acrophobia and my fear of dying as a passenger in a car that is plummeting off of a mountain road. It also helps me choose my own locations to pull over for photo opportunities, rather than having to sit and holler "Stop! I said stop! Stop now! Stop fifteen feet ago!"
It's early in the season for fall color, but at altitude, there were plenty of aspen trees blazing in various shades of gold. We had to get higher up than the worst beetle-kill areas to reach them (and the innumerable trees standing dead just freaks me out.) We went up through Rocky Mountain National Park, all the way up Trail Ridge Road, and we took the hike up the few hundred extra feet in elevation from the ranger station and gift shop up to the top of the trail, where I was told one can see all the way to Wyoming and Kansas (obviously in opposite directions). It was a rough climb for a middle-aged lady who still has sea-level lungs, but I made it all the way up there and I provided proof. It was a gorgeous day today. The skies were absolutely clear, giving us plenty of natural vitamin D, and it was ridiculously warm. I brought a hoodie with me, but most of the day I was wishing I hadn't even worn a long-sleeved t-shirt. I couldn't believe how warm it was. I've been up there on summer days when it snowed, but today we could barely find any permafrost ice fields in the panoramic vistas. We were even scandalized by the amount of scrubby little spruces growing along the road, well above the tree line. We can't say whether that is a product of climate change, or simply a factor of cars delivering tree seeds as they drive up the tourist road. Time will tell on that.
The whole day was a feast for the senses. The colors and light were enough to delight in their own right, but the wind was blowing mildly, stirring up scents of pine and spruce. It made me excited to think about the winter holidays to come, replete with greenery and pine-scented candles that will fill every inch of my house. And, as he has done dozens of times while we were out in the wilds, Mr S-P hopped out of the car at one photo stop, and snagged a few raspberries growing wild on the side of the road (shh.. don't tell). There was even a treat for the animal lovers in us, when bold little chipmunks darted up to pose for photos and ask us whether we had any snacks to share (we did not).
I took hundreds of pictures. Let me see if I can't whittle them down to a manageable collection...
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