letting go and taking in the moment

We were armed and ready.

• Water – check.
• Granola bars – check (Luna for me, none of that boob-sprouting granola for my manly trail guide friend)
• Cameras, extra layers – check (apparently, it gets colder as you get to higher altitudes…)
• Someone besides me carrying the backpack – check.

Ready.

Parked on the street at Baseline Road in Boulder, CO, we headed out and up.  This is where we started:

As we started, Steve told me it’d take a few hours to get up the mountain and back.

Perfect – I wanted to be outside and on this mountain for as long as possible.

The hike started out easy enough.  The base boasts a slight incline, and  while the altitude initially challenged this midwesterner’s lungs, the first 20 minutes or so were spent walking leisurely and chatting comfortably.

And then I learned why they call these the “ROCKY” Mountains. As we got closer to the top, more and more of the terrain looked like this:

But I did it!  About 2/3 of the way up, I took a[nother] breather, paused, checked out the view, and self-snapped this one to mark the occasion:

Finally, we made it.  I could’ve set up camp here and stayed all night, but they don’t allow that.  Instead, I rested for about 20 minutes, soaked in the sunshine and the view, and took the much-needed time-out I knew this weekend would mean for me.

There’s something about being so far away from life as I know it, and taking it all in from the top of a mountain.  Before my first trip to Colorado over three years ago, I’d been going through some silly personal things, and a friend told me how healing the mountains can be for such a place.

It’s tough to explain, but you get a completely different sense of perspective, direction, and your purpose when you see how small you really are in the great big scheme of this great big world.  Everything you do this weekend?  Write it down.  Do not forget it.

That was right before the first time I came out to Colorado back in August of 2006, and my friend was right.  It’s kind of life-changing and refreshing to see yourself as part of a bigger picture – impactful absolutely, but not even remotely in control.

And with that thought, I sat atop the fourth of four Flatirons, under the Royal Arch and let the land and let the Boulder Valley tell me where I was supposed to be right then.

Oh yeah, we’ve been through this before – right here.  I’m already right where I’m supposed to be.

And then I sat for a few more moments as I let that sink in.

Tagged as: Boulder, Chautauqua, flatirons