I leave to go home in the morning

 

I leave to go home in the morning. A person can simultaneously hold seemingly contradictory thoughts and feelings (just ask me how I feel about Thomas Jefferson, for example).

 

I've had a tremendous sabbatical retreat for just over a month. A quick estimate is that I have walked something like at least 150 miles in the last month. And I've made a lot of progress on the band piece that I started on this trip. Most of the "creative work" is done--there are still a lot of details to be worked out.

 

It would surprise absolutely no one for me to say that I would *love* to live in the mountains. But, simultaneously, this is not where my life is: my life (that I love) is in Kansas, with nary a mountain to be seen. It all starts with Tracey, our beautiful family and home and life together, of course. She hates this touchy-feely stuff, so I'll leave it at that. And I also love my work life, colleagues, and students, although, again, it's great to get a break. I wish everyone could have the experience of a sabbatical at some point in their life. So, it's great to be where I am now, and also I can't wait to be back home.

See you in Kansas!

Last hike, on the Continental Divide Trail

I met a friend who lives in Colorado to do a one-way hike on the Continental Divide Trail from Monarch Pass to Marshall Pass. We set up a two-car shuttle, which meant a fair amount of driving before and after the 11.something mile hike, to which we added a side climb off-trail toward (but not quite to) the summit of Mt. Ouray (YOU-ray) at 13,971 ft. So it was a very long day. (I left my place at 5:00am.)

We were literally walking on or very near the Continental Divide the whole way, usually above the trees with sweeping views. Unfortunately, the air did become a little more smoky later in the day. We did not even leave the trail to start the climb until after 1:00. (In summer this would be suicidal, because of lightning.) We made it to the last summit ridge above 13,000, but by then it was super windy and smoky, so turning back was a pretty easy call.

This area of Colorado is very different from the more rugged ranges my other hikes took place in: more gentle, grassy slopes. It was very beautiful. 

Most of a grouse, on the off-trail beginning of our climb

Mt. Ouray Summit

Tiny tarns glistening in the sun

This is Crestone, part III: Botany nerd edition

 I went for a little sunset stroll this evening...

The houses near Crestone are mostly in a narrow strip of Pinyon/Juniper woodland, that runs from the foot of the Sangres to the mostly treeless floor of the San Luis Valley to the west.

Pinyon/Juniper woodland occupies large amounts of the American southwest and Great Basin--particularly high desert areas that get just enough moisture to sustain trees at all.

Here are our two protaganists: the darker, lusher-looking tree on the right is a Pinyon, and the lighter colored tree with shaggier bark on the left is the Juniper.

 

Kansans, the Juniper might look like a scrubbier version of our Red Cedar (which, I believe, is actually botanically a Juniper, not a Cedar.)

I headed up through a "green belt" of public land that ran about a 1/2 mile toward the mountains, through spectacular P/J woodlands. I love this gnarly old Juniper:

On the return, I headed down Spanish Creek for a ways. Riparian zones in P/J Woodland offer enough additional water to sustain other species, including deciduous, especially Cottonwood in the SW US. At first I saw only Aspen here, but came on some nice big Cottonwoods in a bit, too.

It was almost sunset.

Here's a good view of the transition from the P/J woodland (behind the cleared lot), to the treeless San Luis Valley in the background.

Kit Carson Peak in evening light, through the P/J woodland.

Finally, looking west to the San Luis Valley. The solar panels sticking up over the trees are on my loft apartment. If you look real carefully, you can see a line of golden deciduous trees running into the horizon behind that. You know what that means, right? That's the riparian zone of Spanish Creek. Most of these creeks from the western Sangres don't actually flow into any river: the San Luis Valley is so arid that they just eventually run dry somewhere downstream. (The Great Sand Dunes are only about ten miles south of here, after all. The San Luis Valley is high desert.)

This is Crestone, part II

 My Air BnB place, which is lovely, is at the corner of...

...and...

No wonder I'm so relaxed.

(I believe there may be another reason why folks around here are relaxed. I thought there had been a skunk in the yard one morning, but eventually realized that may have been something else I smelled. Not my thing, but you do you and I'll do me. It's even legal here, after all.)

Willow Lake Day Hike

Willow Lake is one of the most popular destinations in the Sangres. It is a beautiful lake,  and there are numerous waterfalls above and below the lake. Plus, Sangres trails are notoriously steep, and this one is more moderate: it's about 5 miles and 2,500 feet of elevation gain to the lake.

Kit Carson Peak, a 14er, looms above the lake, but it was almost impossible for me to take a picture of it, because I was looking right into the sun.

There were a group of Bighorn Sheep (ewes and lambs, no rams) at the lake. they scattered when I arrived, but eventually reappeared on the rocks a little ways around the shore.

I saw at least six other parties--on a Thursday in October. Like I said, a very popular destination. For good reason. I had extended chats with a few. I'm definitely a "socially functioning introvert," but a month of mostly solitude has definitely bumped up my urge for social contact. Among those I spoke to: a 71-year-old who backpacked to the lake basin and will be climbing Kit Carson tomorrow. I said to him, "I salute you, and please God let that be me."

The big meadow, the town of Crestone,
the vast San Luis Valley, and the San Juan Mountains
in the far distance

lunch spot selfie

Kit Carson Peak

This is Crestone...

 I met three lovely locals on a walk this morning.

Two were a young couple who live in a teepee.

One was a 65-ish man with a ZZ Top beard. He's moving to the Ozarks because there are "too damn many people" in Crestone now, and it's "too Californicated." (The population of ALL of Saguache County, CO is 6,000.)

Also, Crestone has a population of 146, as of 2018. (To be fair, many more people live in the neighboring Baca Grant areas, where my current place is: probably a good portion of those 6,000 residents of Saguache County.) This small village has two small grocery stores, both of which are considerably nicer than any grocery store in my town of 60,000 people. Healthy eating is clearly a priority here. The granola factor is, let's say..."off the charts."

As a former 12-months-a-year Birkenstock wearer* (a lifetime ago in Seattle), I feel among my people here.

(*With the heavy wool socks, of course. My niece and nephew still apparently refer to them as "Uncle Craig socks.")

Pics from around my place in Crestone

The deck, where I tried to work earlier this afternoon, but the sun was too bright. I'll have to find the sweet spots of the day, when it's not too cold but not too bright.

Kit Carson Peak, a 14er, from the door to my apartment:

Kit Carson (left) and Crestone Peak (right), both 14ers, from the driveway.

You can see that Crestone (elev. 8,000) is right on the border between the arid San Luis Valley and its pinon-juniper trees (where it has trees at all), and the mountain forests.