Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge

I'm not sure how I never knew about this place... but I didn't. 

40 minutes from home and just 10 miles NE of downtown Denver, lies Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge. A wetland and prairie area that is home to bison, birds of all kinds, coyote, deer and more. It features an 11 mile wildlife drive that has a better than average chance of getting you up close and personal with all of these creatures. And in places (not inside the bison fence) you can get out and do some short hikes through wooded areas and to ponds - with your camera at the ready, if you are like me!

An imperfect book review!

I'm not even sure where to start. 

It would be true to say I'm not an avid reader.  More often than not, I start something but don't finish it. Finding connection with an author seems as important to my brain as the discovery of a compelling story. So book reviews are unlikely to be a regular thing in this blog. 

With that said, when I do have a meaningful experience inside the pages of a book, it's a bit mind blowing and like a newly minted religious convert, I'm eager to share - in case you too are hungry for a new perspective.

Brene Browns book "The Gifts of Imperfection" stuffed my head with brilliant insights yet somehow freed up brain space. It took me 6 months to work through. Each chapter was meaty and deserving of cogitation. This is not surprising if you look at who she is and her research into human connection, shame as a barrier to connection, and her theory on wholehearted living - engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. 

By page 36, when she wrote that all humans have a deep need for love and belonging and without meeting those needs we numb, we ache, we hurt others, we get sick, I was hooked. I know in order to live my life to its fullest potential, there is no room for these things! 

But connection to others and to self takes courage. The courage to put your own vulnerability out there.

Loving and accepting ourselves honestly is an act of bravery.  And while some don't agree,  I fall into the camp that believes you can't love others fully until you love yourself fully. 

It's definitely a journey - and not an easy one but "My story matters because I matter" is a healthy place to arrive at. Owning my messy and imperfect, wild and wonderful, grace-filled (not graceful!) and joyful life is important.  Not pretending everything is ok when it isn't, is important. 

Choosing worthiness and authenticity has felt like an act of resistance to me.  

Waking up in the morning and thinking "I am enough" feels pretty magical though. "I am imperfect and yet brave and worthy of love" is powerful stuff!

I'm probably going to keep this book close by for a while... within easy reach on my nightstand.  And on those days when some 25 year old tenant who knows everything about everything, tells me I'm not doing my job well in a rude email, I'll open to page 134 and remind myself to "cultivate calm"... as I sip my wine! 

I have embraced my imperfections. ;)

Hiking on Trail Ridge Road

 The other day, while up in Rocky Mountain National Park, I noticed some folks unloading cross-country skis and preparing to bypass the "Road Closed" sign on Many Parks Curve to explore Trail Ridge Rd on foot.

I knew that had to be me next time. 

The following week, Sue and I were there, bright and early. We had snow shoes and spikes, snacks and smiles. Trail Ridge was icy, snowy and in places, completely bald down to the asphalt. We hiked in spikes...

And had a picnic in spikes.

We passed a few skiers, snowboarders and other walkers - the kind that wore jeans and glamor sneakers and might have called this outing their first foray into RMNP. Someone of equal or greater enthusiasm was responsible for this snowman.... this feeble and not-long-for-this-world snowman. A hug can fix anything?!

Sue later opted for an 'emotional support pinecone' instead of a cold wet hug!

A month or so from now, they will start plowing the deep bits from this road. Smoothing it out and making it car-ready for the summer season. I will travel it to new adventures again soon.

Today though, these 6.5 miles on uneven and sometimes unstable ground took its toll. Our hips and ankles were complaining loudly before we made it back to the car. Our faces were pinkish-red, singed by the glare off the white ground and the direct sunshine from a blazing blue sky. It was time for Nepalese food and lots of it.

Oh yeah... and today marks the day that my moose-like 4runner had its first passenger-toting adventure in Colorado. Christened!

Reflection. Acceptance. Gratitude.

In her book "The Gifts of Imperfection" Brené Brown writes:

Get Deliberate

Letting go of certainty is one of my greatest challenges. I even have a physical response to "not knowing" - it's anxiety and fear and vulnerability combined. That's when I have to get very quiet and still. With my busy life, that can mean hiding in the garage or driving around the block. Whatever it takes, I have to find a way to be still so I can hear what I'm saying.

Amen, sister! 

In another of my favorite books; Gaia's Garden, I found an introduction to the permaculture principle related to the edge of an environment - The place where different pieces click together, is where diversity abounds, materials accumulate and translate and an abundance of potential exists. It's also where species are likely most vulnerable at first... 

I know that from the outside looking in, it can make other people wholey uncomfortable to see me head out into the wilderness or desert to be alone (and vulnerable). I have very well meaning and loving friends express concern that I will be unsafe, bored or lonely. They might even share sympathy that I haven't found a friend to take with me.  

But the truth is, I am deliberate. I deliberately don't invite anyone. I deliberately choose places and times of year that offer the most solitude. I deliberately devote time to listening to what I'm saying. 

And yes, in those first few hours alone, as I get my feet under me and my own (often dark) thoughts begin to take voice, there is considerable anxiety... the type that comes with nausea and appetite loss! But I know it will pass as I step out of my comfortable environment and inch toward that place where a new environment begins - and stay there a while. As I start to embrace my own potential, I feel energized.

It makes a lot of sense to me that humans have both a deep need for certainty and also need for uncertainty in their lives. The far edges of my normal environment is where uncertainty lies... but it's also the place where my voice gives me answers (to questions I didn't even know I had) and leaves me feeling more certain. A bit magical really.

Final thought: There are brief moments (those dark thoughts I mentioned) when I question my belonging. After all, this periodic tendancy to go solo is hard for almost anyone I know to really understand and that makes me feel "different". 

Then my friends call me while I'm on the road to make sure I'm safe and happy.

My inner voice (now louder and wiser) reminds me that fitting in and belonging are VERY different animals. Fitting in would probably see me curb my enthusiasm for solo trips so that I better matched my people. Belonging is where I'm accepted and loved by my people - just the way I am!

Zion Revisited (Day 14)

Last night I was sure there was going to be no sunrise expedition in Zion for me tomorrow. I'd become strangely zen with the idea of a mediocre hotel breakfast and a slower start. A relaxed final day on vaca.

But at 5:30am I found myself with new energy for the new day and waning enthusiasm for that extra time at the hotel! Up and at 'em!

Almost impressive. Until you factor in that I'd done no planning. I inputted Zion National Park to the nav system as I exited the parking lot and gave it no more than a moments curiosity that today's route to Zion was looking different to yesterday's route from Zion. 

.... And that's how I found myself at Kolob Canyon - technically part of Zion but for all practical purposes, about 30 mins from where I thought I'd be when the sun peaked over the horizon. Shoot! 

Parking at Canyon Overlook was easy today. Still early of course but also it was now Monday. The hike warmed me up and I did get a few post-sunrise pics.

Perhaps the highlight of this hike was a very beautiful Japanese couple and their 8 year old daughter.  He carried his daughter over a particularly narrow and icy section with dangerous drop-off. I said "Me too. I want to be carried!" His wife giggled but his look was of utmost discomfort. He was caught between a rock and a hard place; Carry me (rock) or say No to me (hard place).  I wish I was this polite! Many people do. LOL

The second lesson from them came when I descended back to the trailhead. I actually don't remember passing the narrow, icy spot - so no feeling anxious about it or watching anyone else squirm at the thought.  That 8 year old with her powers of persuasion!!!

This was a good reminder of something I already knew. "Be careful who you surround yourself with and how you let them influence you!" For better or worse, we are all a little bit emotionally absorbant.

I guess today was a hiking day despite figuring out that my glut-hamstring pain was definitely in the category of injury. I guess the stiffness had been masking that for a couple of days. Ibuprofen and soldier on, baby! I was literally told by two young Rangers that there was no parking left at the trailheads and hiking was not in the cards for me and then as I arrived there, a car pulled out and let me have his spot! It was meant to be. 

I hiked to Upper Emerald Pools. All up, about 3 miles of temperature-regulating challenges; up and down, sunny and shaded, windy and calm. It was still pretty bustling here but less frantic feeling - Or perhaps my reintegration into 'normal' levels of human interaction was just going really swimmingly.

A family of 6 followed me the first mile. The parents were giving First Aid lessons to their littles (6-10 year olds) as they hiked uphill. The kids were NAILING the 'how to stop bleeding with pressure' quiz! Gosh I was impressed. Faith in our survival might have just been restored. 

I gave up my valuable parking space at the Grotto trailhead and headed off to the Visitor Center to talk to myself about tomorrow's plan. That's when I discovered, to my own delight, that I get back an hour when I cross into Nevada to catch my flight home. (Discovery happens when you try to checkin for your flight tomorrow and Southwest tells you you're too early - come back in an hour!)

The next day I beat a path to Vegas and gave Beast the spa treatment I had promised him all across the southwest. Red dust flowed in a river from his body and everything from Death Valley sand dune to rice cake crumbs got vacuumed away... like I had never been there. 

It was bittersweet to hand his key fob back to Fox Rental Car and walk away. We shared many a fond memory these past two weeks and 3000 miles...  But it was time for me to go home.

They named it Zion for a reason (Day 13)

Just when I thought it couldn't get any colder, -2°F greeted me this morning. The hot water pipes in my hotel were frozen and I microwaved a little cup of water to splash my face awake with. Hearing this made the hotel owner giggle!

Beast got a decent warm up then we hit the road. It was a lovely morning for a drive... the turkeys agreed.

Above me towered cottonwoods. Host to a golden eagle; my first sighting and really one of the rare opportunities I had to use my long lens this trip.

After 12 days of not seeing a whole lot of people together, or close to me, Zion came as a bit of a shock. Not awful, just the sudden realization that I'd adjusted to and appreciated, a crazy amount of alone time, a quiet environment and SPACE.

Every pull-out and parking lot was full. 43°F was the high temp today, the sky was blue and it was Sunday - before Martin Luther King Jr day. Not to mention the 'day of rest' is taken quite seriously in these parts. Lots of stores and restaurants were closed and a ton of those National Park visitors had Utah plates on their cars. 

For the first time since I'd left Denver almost 2 weeks ago, I found it hard to motivate and there was a decidedly absent flow of thoughts and feelings. My journal got Sunday off too. (Clearly I caught some wind in my sails on Monday to fill in the blanks.)

Instead I spent time wandering and sitting.  Observing and doing good deeds. (Good deeds here all come in the form of taking peoples pictures for them.) Then I took an hour out to bathe myself in some Visitor Center cell signal and got a real estate deal under contract. It felt good and right!

Day 13 was the day I began to mentally embrace going home. My body was tired no matter how well I slept and those Spooky Canyon torqued limbs were still complaining and stiff. As cute and friendly as last night's hotel had been, I made the decision to upgrade for my last 2 nights on the road.

Tub ✓         Breakfast onsite ✓        Memory foam mattress ✓

No sunrise effort for me tomorrow... this train is sloowwwiinnnngggg down. It's a good thing. I have come by my exhaustion honestly.