The alarm went off at 6:15 am in its normal gentle manner. I signed up for this kind of misery, I told myself. Just get on your feet and slurp some coffee. My house guest for the past few days was eager to get going. And she showed her enthusiasm to me not with the sometimes-undetectable ways that women do. No, the wagging tail was quite easy to decipher.
I was to met Rak and a couple of his buddy's for what Eric called Full Value Day. We were to meet in Boulder Canyon, carpool up to Brainard Lake and get our peak-bagging dance going. He planned an itinerary of 3 named peaks and some unnamed bumps along the way.
All packed, well-caffinated and fed, the last thing I needed to do was take Hachiko out. That's when my day changed. Apparently sometime during the night the little muppet vomited. Then I spotted another pile, and another, and another...and two more upstairs. She upchucked a couple of more times on her walk as well.
Well I can't leave a sick dog now can I? She has been fine since early this morning, so I'm writing it down as separation anxiety from her parents. But why couldn't I have discovered this before I had a cup of coffee?! I called Eric and wished him a fun and wonderful day and spent the next 20 minutes cleaning up doggie puke.
Well, I'm up and she was fine it seemed. I changed quickly, grabbed the mountain bike and headed down south. Might as well get something in before the thermometer burst.
The last time I had been to the Greenland Trail was a couple of years ago. This time there was no threatening thunderstorm ready to zap me with lightning. But I have to say it was great motivation, having lighting and thunder in close proximity to kick it up a notch and stop being the tallest thing in the meadowed area.
The 8+ mile loop was a cakewalk, much, much easier than the last time I remembered. But then I'm also a lot more active than I have been in recent years and able to go at my pace.
Got back to the parking lot and took up the nearby dirt road to the new Spruce Mountain Open Space. Jumped on the Spruce Meadows Trail to double my distance. Calling this a trail is a misnomer. It more resembles a ribbon that goats gnawed down some. In some areas, there isn't trail, just open prairie with an end of a trail 30 feet away. Sometimes the riding was sandy and felt like I was riding on the beach.
Still not feeling tired, I hit the connecting trail up Spruce Mountain Trail. The thing climbed steeply at first but not nearly long enough into into the cliffy gendarme that guarded the pine-clad summit of Spruce Mountain.
Got back to the car unimpressed with either trail. What good can I say about them? Well I've ridden the Spruce Meadow and Mountain trails and...... and I've ridden the Spruce Meadow and Mountain trails.
Still over 20+ miles and nearly 2 1/2 hours of continuous riding with over 1,000 vert. And it wasn't even 11 am yet.
Came home to some wonderful company:
ARTIST OF POST - Yael Naim. Had no idea this was a cover of a Brittany Spears song. This French-Israeli singer gave it something the deranged chartreuse never could: soul.
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