Around here there are certain distinctly recognizable events that mark the changing of the seasons. Spring is the explosion of wildflowers in the mountains. It’s fall when the surrounding hillsides are covered in aspen gold. And you know its summer when highway 50 is jammed with campers with out-of-state plates.
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It’s a secret we don’t normally share with out-of-staters but one of the things we love most about Salida is its mellow climate. Typically in winter, while the mountains — the mountains we can see from our living room window — are getting buried in snow, down here in the valley we’re basking in sunshine. Don’t tell anyone.
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Mid-November. Still too early to ski. And while the higher-altitude trails are beginning to be snowed in, here in town the riding is great.
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Ah, fall in Colorado. Seeing the days slowly getting shorter and feeling the nights gradually getting cooler. Saying goodbye to the hiking and biking of summer and anticipating the skiing of winter. Time to downshift, kick back, and take it slow while nature works on changing its pallet from green and gold to green and white.
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We’ve been having what can rightfully be described as a spectacular fall season in Colorado. Weeks of crisp, clear evenings and cloudless bluebird days with high temperatures in the 70s. While the leaves are gone from the aspens, the cottonwoods and birches in the valleys are all brilliant shades of yellow and orange.
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Is it possible for people to love the outdoors too much? Studies have shown that getting out in nature is one of the best things you can do for both mind and body. But is it good for nature? How many people can nature sustain before it stops being nature?
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Pikes Peak — America’s Mountain, America the Beautiful, purple mountain majesties and all that. Something I’ve been wanting to do for some time is to ride it. With summer starting to wind down, it occurred to me that I better get cracking if I was going to do it this year.
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The town I grew up in, Cañon City, is on the Front Range about an hour east of Salida. It’s 60 twisting, turning miles down the Arkansas River through Big Horn Sheep canyon. Growing up, we called this stretch of Highway 50 “the River Road”.
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So there I was, just riding along, nearing the end of my local Tuesday morning ride, not unlike hundreds of other morning rides I’ve done since moving to Salida. Being the middle of the week, there weren’t a lot of people out and I had the trails mostly to myself.
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