I'm helping Linda set up for her Breckenridge, Colorado art show. I'm using the help fairly liberally as I sit and watch her tinker with her display. The tent is heavy and needs two people to set it up quickly. The tables, too; however, once the tables are up and the boxes of jewelry unloaded from the truck, there is little more that I can do; the next couple of hours will require the "artist eye" to set her individually crafted pieces, just so, on the black matted table cloth.
The trip is more of a vacation to me, and I'm looking forward to hiking the woodland trails in the area. I came loaded with hiking shoes, poles, a backpack, and my GPS.
The elevation of Breckenridge is high, about 9700 feet, and thankfully, after a day of acclimation to the higher elevation, I am ready to try a short hike. I've been worried after the huffing and puffing I have experienced simply walking uphill from dinner back to the truck. I decided on a short hike that starts just up the road from our condo called the Sawmill Reservoir Trail.
I start breathing heavily again, walking up the road toward the trailhead. I could have driven, but frankly, that would have been embarrassing. I prefer to stop on the side of the road, double over, with hands on my knees, gasping for air as cars drive by (sarcasm). Thankfully, there was no doubling over, and after a while, I slid into a steady rhythm that I've learned to recognize over the years as a good hiking pace.
My elevated heart rate remains; however, my breathing calms, and I start to enjoy the views. Breckenridge is stunning, and hiking along the road, I stare directly at peaks Ten, Nine, and Eight (yeah, Colorado could be more creative with their names). All the peaks are in the 13,000-foot range and well above the tree line. The deep green of pine forests gives way to a rocky summit and blue sky. Truthfully, I'd sooner be hiking up there versus down here along these crowded trails.
Sawmill Reservoir is a small retention pond for fishing during these beautiful summer months and snow-making purposes in the early fall. The dam I walk across is a ski trail during the winter, and evidence of its use becomes apparent by all the "out of bounds" signs along the edge. But now, beautiful wildflowers flow down the embankment, and children squeal when a rainbow trout hits their fishing line.
Yes, I'm going to be okay, even with the crowds.
Written October 21, 2023
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