Close Encounter

Of the bear kind.

So, after two whirlwind days of scouting, I peeled out of Denver around 4:30pm for Boulder. I was craving a good hike. What I got was WAY more than I bargained for.

Heading up the trail I was bewildered to learn that acclimation—or something resembling it that I had after five weeks here—is not something you get and then just pull it out whenever you need it. How quickly it goes away. I huffed and puffed, although I must say not as much as I did at the beginning of summer when I first hiked that trail.

So, as I lumped along I saw a couple coming down the trail, and the woman was pregnant. I scolded myself more for likely struggling more than this woman with a basketball for a belly. The couple stopped me to tell me they had just seen a bear about 100 yards up the trail coming down out of a tree. I was giddy. But they were heading down, and I was alone. I couldn't decide what to do. I wanted to see it so badly, but I was scared to death. Just then another hiker came along. She and I decided to forge ahead making noise, but hoping to get a glimpse of it.

Well, it was only a close encounter, not an actual encounter. So, we never saw the bear (damn it!), but we did get to know each other a little bit, and it turns out that she and her male companion are big into off-road motorcycle riding. What a coincidence. I think we'll stay in touch and maybe get to do some riding together one day.

Now, I'm back in my Boulder "office." The Laughing Goat coffeehouse. Love it here.

Summer? What summer?

It happens every single year. And every single year I know it's going to happen. I make attempts to not let it happen, but before I know it...it's happened again. Summer has faded as quickly at the "touch of sun" body lotion I used once in May. Wasn't that just last week or so?

The Iowa State Fair—the greatest state fair—marks the end of summer, usually with a 10-day streak of unbearable temperatures and humidity that makes your sweat sweat. Ugh. This year, however, hasn't been so bad, which makes the prospect of heading back to a classroom even more daunting for my kids.

The end of summer means I am in a rush to finish all of the things on my summer to-do list. (Oh, me and my lists. Sigh.) I'm feverishly checking things off, but the list doesn't seem to be getting any shorter. I am determined to make great strides in the next five days, then I'm off to class and nothing will get done again until December.

Truth be told, the end of summer is the least of my problems right now. I am having Colorado withdrawal—Crested Butte in particular—and it's making me cry all of the time. It started the other morning at the coffee shop. My husband said, "If we were sitting outside Camp 4 Coffee right now, we'd be staring at mountains, and we'd be able to see our breath, and we'd have to wear a fleece 'cause the temperature would only be in the 40s." I immediately got goosebumps. Now I can't shake it. CB is everywhere. Tuesday we took the girls to the fair and in the yard we parked in (yes, yard—long story if you're not from around here) there was a truck with a fake CO license plate that said "Secret Stash" on it which is a restaurant in CB. Yesterday I parked next to a car with a CB sticker on the rear window. Aaaahhh!!! I can't get it out of my head. Crested Butte is haunting me. When I think about it, I get a lump in my throat and something in my chest is making it very hard to breathe. Must. Go. Soon.