Hike Your Own Hike

“I think there’s a dead cat in my beard”

Hiking all year, in all seasons, has its pros and cons. Most would tell you, “the best hiking weather is sunny and blue and not too hot or cold.” We all know that that rarely happens. If we waited on that type of weather, on the days we have available in our schedule, we’d probably never get much hiking in.

Thankfully, over the years, we’ve grown in our appreciation for all four seasons and how each one keeps things interesting. And, if you’ve done any hiking in Colorado, you know you can have all four seasons in the same day!

Keeping our hiking legs strong and our bodies healthy is very important to us, not to mention vital to continued treks in the wilderness. And, just as our physicality needs continued maintenance, so goes the need for our mental and spiritual well-being.

They both go hand in hand really. Hiking brings us serenity and strength which, in turn, keeps us healthy physically, spiritually and mentally.

We love to enjoy the trail, each other and the day. Hiking our own hike is just that, it’s our hike. Many people hike for many reasons, we just happen to love spending time in the outdoors, together.

Having fun is a big part of our outings. After all, hiking is not necessarily easy. We’ll hike at a brisk pace at times, and other times we’ll go at a slow leisurely pace. Photographing, taking videos, absorbing nature and having a good time just being together.

Our hike this past week was cold, snowy and quite windy. Such conditions usually sideline a lot of people from venturing out, unless they’re skiing. We were intent on going and spent much of the day laughing at each other.

The microphone on the camera we use for video has a “dead cat” mounted on it to try and filter out wind noise. Looking at the footage after returning home later that day, next to Miller’s beard it was hard to tell which was which! Hence the joke of the day became, I think there’s a dead cat in my beard.” Let’s face it, it’s OK to laugh at yourself, and why shouldn’t we.

The next time you hit the trail, remember to hike your own hike. Go at your own pace. If you only hike two miles, twenty or two hundred and twenty remember why you’re out there. Enjoy nature and work with it to give you the best outing possible. Be safe, relax and let the life happen.

Is there such a thing as the perfect day? Doubtful. Learn to just enjoy what today has, embrace it and live within it. Tomorrow will have its own struggles.

Peace,

MAD

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Colorado Trail

Turning fifty, physically, was like a light-switch was flipped and stuck in the on (or off, depending on how you look at it) position. The mental fight began soon after. Hiking the Colorado Trail just seemed like the right thing to do.

In 2017 we wanted to hike the Colorado Trail. But, as it were, life has a way of dictating what we do and what we do not do. There are times when we wonder if we are really in control, or if we are merely allowed to make decisions based on current events. The later seems more likely.

Why the Colorado trail? Why not! We live in Denver and love exploring the Colorado Rocky Mountains. Day hikes and backpacking are a big part of our lives. Being in nature is a great way to unwind, relax and clear our heads of the junk we’d rather not think about.

But, really, 486 miles, Denver to Durango? Seems a bit lofty to some. There are definitely longer thru hikes we could take, not to mention shorter ones. The Colorado Trail just happens to be in our backyard and has a draw to it that is somewhat unexplainable. It just feels right. The current plan, the CT in 2018. Is that etched in stone, is anything? Just like Colorado weather, no one really knows what tomorrow will bring until they actually experience it. We can plan, prepare and hope that everything falls into place all we want, but the future remains a mystery until it happens.

Hiking in your fifties is certainly not like hiking in your twenties. It would be nice to complete the Colorado Trail sooner than later. One can only imagine how hard it must get as we age. Though, speaking of goals, we plan to hike until our legs are taken away from us, and then we’ll just look for some mobility device, buy an RV, crawl or move to some distant mountain hideaway.

Alas, here we sit on the back half of life, if you will, looking forwards and backwards. There’s been so much, there will be so much more. Amazing how we find ourselves at this odd crossroads, not necessarily on the map, and yet here it is. We’re fiftyish now and wondering what’s next. Funny, it was never a real worry before, but for some strange reason we find ourselves contemplating something we never thought would be a notion to consider. It’s quite silly really, why is this time the midlife meme? Who or what gave it power? Of all the things we could be thinking about, our minds, like our bodies, fell prey to this phenomenon of turning fifty. It’s like a built in mechanism that is time released.

Most days are like, yeah, we’re in the fifty crowd, we got our AARP cards in the mail, we grunt a little more now, things are starting to go. Other days are like, big deal, we’re still here, still together and still moving forward, like we have a choice. We count our blessings, we think back on all the memories and look forward to even more. We still have plenty of wants. Our bucket list, if we actually made one, seems to becoming more of a priority list vs the perpetual “one day” list.

Not putting too much emphasis on numbers, fifty never was much of a date on the horizon, though now, perhaps, that understanding might have changed. It was just a number, just another day, and just another year. Yet, somehow, someway, turning fifty, physically, was like a light-switch was flipped and stuck in the on (or off, depending on how you look at it) position. The mental fight began soon after. Hiking the Colorado Trail just seemed like the right thing to do.

To that, we are motivated more than ever to keep ourselves moving, maintaining a healthy (healthier) diet and exercising regularly (more regularly). Adjustments to our hiking gear, trail food and trail duration are modifications we are looking at closely. Let’s face it, thru hiking is not easy, doing it at fiftyish isn’t helping matters, but we can and will complete the trail with the proper gear and mindset. For now, plan the hike and keep ourselves fit and healthy.

We’ll either hike it thru or in segments. Capturing, embracing and absorbing every moment as they come. The plan is to document our adventure by taking innumerable amounts of photos, endless videos, and stitching them together by segment, 28 of them to be exact.

There’s a lot of hype in the thru hiking world about pack weight. Quality hiking gear isn’t cheap. Replacing it with ultra-light gear isn’t that easy, if even needed. Most emphasize base weight, that is, everything but food and water, consumables in a nut shell. We’re guessing people want to take less and be lighter on their feet, ultimately less time on the trail. While less might be more comfortable while in motion, there is a level of comfort each of us has to consider, otherwise we become miserable and want off the trail. For us a balance must be found. Let’s face it, if you love the outdoors, you most likely want to spend more time there, not less. A quick hike doesn’t necessarily make for an opportunity to embrace all the trail has to offer. We’d rather slow down, smell the wildflowers and take it all in. If that means a little extra weight on our backs, so be it.

If your interested, here are the boring details on our gear to date. [ Miller’s Backpack / Debbie’s Backpack ] If you have any questions, we’d be glad to answer them.

Peace,

MAD

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Chicago Lakes – Mt Evans Wilderness

Protective, loving and sweet only begin to describe what one would see when she peered deep into our eyes awaiting the chance to just cuddle. She was what life should be, love.

It is with a heavy heart that we share our latest adventure. To those who have been following us and know, our beloved Billie “Bean” lost her fight with cancer and has left a huge hole in our hearts. Thank you all for your kind words, prayers and warm thoughts.

On a brisk evening back in 2011 the local news stations were forecasting a strong snowstorm for our area, upwards of a foot of snow, temps dropping into the 10s with sustained strong winds. A blizzard if you will. That same evening  a small bundle of joy crawled up inside our hearts and never left.

Balled up on the doorstep was a nervous, shaking and cold Chiweenie. Abandoned to the cold and left to die, she somehow found her way to the home in the neighborhood that would not, could not or ever would say no. Frail, exhausted and afraid we slowly wrapped her up and took her in. Not that she had the energy to run, much less fight. A trip to the local veterinarian to get checked out, see if she had a chip and if anyone was looking for her, and the next thing we knew six years later those eyes still looked at us with love of family, home and safety. She gave as much to us as we did to her.

Two months ago our little baby girl, Billie “Bean” was diagnosed with terminal bladder cancer. It wasn’t enough that someone had abandoned her at a young age, now she would be sucker punched with a devastating health blow. Again, we bundled her up and loved her all the more, keeping her as comfortable as possible. Her fight came to an end the other day, though ours continues, we miss her all the more even now.

Our hike to Chicago Lakes is much like she was to us, full of relaxing surprises around every corner. A beautiful soul enjoying the natural world and the time she was given with us, and the time we were blessed to have been given with her. Protective, loving and sweet only begin to describe what one would see when she peered deep into our eyes awaiting the chance to just cuddle. She was what life should be, love.

Our hike began next to the lazy Echo Lake, adorned with late summer color and migrating water fowl. Birds singing as the sun began to make its way over the ridge, life had once again returned to the Mt Evans Wilderness. A short stroll around the northern corner of the lake, we soon disappeared into the alpine wilderness on our way to the Chicago Lakes nestled beneath Mt Evans. Quiet, peaceful and inviting was the trail on this late summer morning.

The path rocky with expansive views of our distant destination. Across Chicago Creek, we traveled onward to our next way point, the Idaho Springs Reservoir. At first glance one would have thought a light shower was upon us, though not a cloud was seen in the sky. Hundreds, if not more, trout were jumping through the surface of the lake feasting on the morning’s delight. Mosquitoes we hoped! Just passed the reservoir a pleasant surprise awaited. Someone had made a “labyrinth” to the side of the trail inviting all who passed to take time out and enjoy its short path.

labyrinth

Beyond this we began a moderate climb to the upper valley, dense woods gave way to an old burn area, some forty years earlier, that was now in the regeneration process, and doing well we might add. The ground was covered in many various colors of vegetation while aspens and pines pushed their way higher and higher with each new growing season. Life had returned to a once devastated area of the forest.

Another creek crossing, perhaps two, and we soon were greeted with the open expanse of the upper valley and its headwall capped on all sides by Rogers Peak, Mt Warren, Mt Evans, Mt Spalding and Gray Wolf Mountain. The Chicago Lakes are simply a spectacular sight inviting the traveler to relax, sit back and absorb the surroundings. A few clouds, a few stray showers and warm food in our bellies and we were ready to build a small log home right where we sat. Solitude, serenity and peacefulness took over from there. The circle of life resides well in this corner of the Mt Evans Wilderness, a place for one to explore physically, emotionally and spiritually as the sun sets and rises and time itself seems to stand still.

Peace,

MAD

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High Lonesome to Devil’s Thumb

Making our way across the high open tundra, we felt as if we could touch the sky. The High Lonesome to Devil’s Thumb is just that, a high altitude trail to be alone with your thoughts in an ever expanding environment. The trail always aiming for a horizon that blurs, where earth and sky are one and the imagination is left with thoughts of danger, beauty and intrigue.

Leaving Denver, we made our way to Berthoud Pass, a good early morning stop to shake out the predawn cobwebs and give our bladders a much needed break from the coffee sludge we had ingested a few hours before.

Over the pass and into the  sleepy ski town of Winter Park, we found our turnoff on to the less traveled Corona Pass Rd, a road full of Colorado railroad history! It was a good thing we had stopped at Berthoud Pass, the dips, bumps, holes and rocks had us bobbing up and down, side to side and all around the cab of the truck like a bad carnival ride. Something our bladders probably would not have tolerated! Several hours of road torture gave way to views of the alpine as we finally pulled up to the trailhead.

On the border of two wilderness areas, James Peak and Indian Peaks, we couldn’t help but admire the incredible beauty of this place. Adventure options abound here. While a wildflower lined trail lead down to King Lake, Lake Shira and Bob and Betty Lakes was inviting in and of itself, today our adventure would take us up the high road, the High Lonsome to Devil’s Thumb.

Late summer snow, wildflowers, low clouds and a wind that brought a sense of an early fall soon to arrive met us as we began our ascent. Our path today, a section of the Continental Divide Trail that averages 12,000′ and very exposed to the elements. Full of big views in each direction, we kept a close eye, and ear, on the weather churning above us.

Making our way across the high open tundra, we felt as if we could touch the sky. The High Lonesome to Devil’s Thumb is just that, a high altitude trail to be alone with your thoughts in an ever expanding environment. The trail always aiming for a horizon that blurs, where earth and sky are one and the imagination is left with thoughts of danger, beauty and intrigue.

Leaving the High Lonsome for Devil’s Thumb was an exciting event. A year ago we had planned to be here on a multi-day hike only to cut this portion of the adventure out due to lack of water in one of the lower lakes, a planned overnight stop. This time water was aplenty, we were charged with the anticipation of seeing down in the valley where Devil’s Thumb, Devil’s Thumb Lake and Jasper Lake reside. Serenaded by Marmot and Pika, we stared ahead in awe of the alpine landscape we had come to visit. Plush, teaming with life and unexplored, the valley below calls to the weary high alpine traveler, “come down and rest.”

Peace,

MAD

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Eccles Pass

Back at camp, we carried out our duty to do nothing. Breakfast and the inevitable to follow, a walk in the woods with a small shovel. Funny how mundane tasks in the city become something of an art form in the high country. Backpacking Eccles Pass will always remain an experience to remember.

What a beautiful late summer outing, backpacking Eccles Pass. Heading up into the Gore Mountain Range near Frisco, Colorado can be some what of an uphill battle, especially with a full backpack. Though, once out of the gulch the trail levels into picturesque meadows surrounded by mountain peaks. Simply put, the hike up is lush and quiet. Aspen groves give way to mixed pine woods with fresh running streams and a much more laid-back environment versus the hustle and bustle of city life.

Arriving in the high valley, you’ll find open meadows thinning out to rugged peaks and big open skies. Wildflowers abound here, while gentle creeks flow from snowmelt high above bring life giving waters to the valley below. There’s room for everyone and everything here, that is, man, nature and wildlife enjoy the pristine unmaintained landscape of the beautiful Eagle’s Nest Wilderness, just the way it should remain.

We camped just below Eccles Pass, somewhere around 11,500′, out of touch and out of time with nowhere to go, no place to be, relaxing and allowing the natural flow of things to overtake our minds. A room with a view, if you will, positioning our tent to face west at the mountain range, prime for sunset and sunrise and a hopeful moose having dinner among the reeds.

The nights were quiet, so much so you could hear a mouse chewing on a pine cone fifty yards away. Shadows danced all around the meadow under an almost full moon. We were alone with only nature as our cohabitant. We would drift in and out of sleep with anticipation of first light and exploring further.

“What was that?”

“A bear”

“What!?”

“A rabid moose”

“What?!!”

“An alligator…”

The next morning we would wander, aimlessly, exploring fields of wildflowers, cool running streams and eventually up to Eccles Pass for the view of a lifetime. From our vantage point the whole landscape disappeared into further untouched lands waiting to be explored. Trails winding in and out and over further mountain passes. If only we had more supplies we could just walk on in any direction letting our imaginations lead the way.

Back at camp, we carried out our duty to do nothing. Breakfast and the inevitable to follow, a walk in the woods with a small shovel. Funny how mundane tasks in the city become something of an art form in the high country. Backpacking Eccles Pass will always remain an experience to remember.

Does a bear sh*t in the woods? I know we do! Finding that “spot” where you need to relieve yourself can be tricky at times. You obviously don’t want an audience, hell, we don’t even want a chipmunk watching, nor do you want someone to find your, well, you just don’t want someone finding “it.” Privacy, secrecy and no mosquitoes coming up behind you is what it’s all about.

“How deep should I make the hole?”

“I don’t know, how full of sh*t are you?”

After breaking camp, we fueled up, loaded up and began our decent back to city life. How we would love to just stay and never go back. Backpacking Eccles Pass, much less anyplace in the Colorado High Country, just seems to sit well with us. We always feel at home and as if the weight of the world and all its frustrations just lift off of us. Perhaps one day we’ll just take that one last look behind us as we disappear into the wilderness for good.

Peace,

MAD

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To the World Their Baby Never Existed

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, Baby Loss, MAD Hippies Life, Miller Harrell, Debbie Harrell, to the world their baby never existed

“They left the hospital, never to mention their baby again. Their tears were shed in private, and they had to bear the burden of their grief and their pain silently. To the world their baby never existed.”

In October Debbie and I went to a Remembrance Walk for our daughter Shira Rose. We had no idea what we were walking into or the experience we would have…we can’t even begin to express our gratitude for the support and love we have felt since, and during, the Remembrance Walk. It wasn’t until this year that we had even begun to “allow” ourselves to discuss Shira and do something after 33 years in her honor. We began writing, started our blog and talking [perhaps for the first time] with each other about our hidden feelings that had been kept at bay, deep within us, for so many years.

We went to the Remembrance Walk unprepared to grieve, to feel and to somehow be those young parents we were so many years ago who had just lost their daughter. It was all so surreal. Cheryl Haggard, co-founder of Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, gave a speech that day which hit a special place within us, we couldn’t help but think to ourselves, “thank G-d we came.” Seeing Shira’s name on signs along the route, hearing her name read aloud and releasing a balloon to the heavens was like coming home. Our daughter has a name, she is our daughter, she lives on and will always be a part of us.

Our experience and story was recently shared on the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Facebook page

“Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Co-founder, Cheryl Haggard met Shira Rose’s parents, Miller and Debbie Harrell after speaking at the NILMDTS Remembrance Walk on October 3rd, 2015. Miller walked up to her and in a hushed tone, voice breaking, he simply said, ‘It’s been 33 years for us…

She had asked the audience to look around them that day.

‘Most likely the person standing next to you experienced the death of their precious baby recently. Within the past 5 to 10 years. They probably left the hospital with a beautiful care package lovingly assembled by other bereaved parents. And hopefully a photograph. Whether that photograph was taken by a professional photographer, a nurse or taken by the family themselves, they were encouraged to, and knew it was ok to create those memories of their baby. They left the hospital with empty arms and a broken heart, but they left with something tangible to remember their baby by. Something to hold onto. They have been told about or ‘googled’ support groups and resources nearest to them. They have shared their baby’s story with family and friends and possibly even the world through social medial. They have found acceptance and support by a beautiful community of bereaved parent’s online and right here, today.’

She then asked the audience to look around them again, and this time to look closer…

‘You could be standing next to a mother or a father whose baby died 20 or more years ago. They might be hesitant in telling you about their baby, because they were told it wasn’t appropriate to mention their baby. If you ask them questions, they might share with you their story of how they were never allowed or discouraged to hold or even see their baby. How they were told it wasn’t worth naming their child, and told to move on…try to have ‘another’ one. Forget about this one. They left the hospital, never to mention their baby again. Their tears were shed in private, and they had to bear the burden of their grief and their pain silently. To the world their baby never existed.’

That is, until now.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep has given parents a safe place to share their baby. Share their story. And even share their photographs. Whether they were taken by themselves or taken by a professional. These parents have read our stories, and seen our photographs. Our babies have given their baby’s a face, and our stories have given these parents a voice. Some parents have given a name to their baby…and they are looking for ways to honor their baby’s memory.

Please share with us, especially, if you are a parent that has experienced a loss 20 or more years ago, your experience and how you think grieving and remembrance has changed between then and now. Was there a certain moment in time, when you decided enough was enough? How did you break the silence?”

Peace,

MAD

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I am the Father of a Stillborn

I am the Father of a stillborn. There are times when we are powerless in our situations and find ourselves losing it, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss where there is little light and the feeling of being alone is quite overwhelming.

I am the father of three beautiful daughters, one of which was born still when we were mere teenagers. It has taken me 33 years to allow myself to even remotely think about dealing with it. Anger, frustration and the emptiness of not being able to at least hold her has haunted me for years. I suppose people move on, but the pain never goes away.

I grew up in a broken home. With no male figure to show me the ropes, I learned what I could from what limited exposure I had to my grandfather. The rest came from reading the encyclopedia, disassembling electronic components to see what made them tick, reassembling [some] of those parts to make new inventions of my own and lastly hanging out at the local natural science museum where I would find a passion for not only nature itself, but the details of what makes the cosmos go round.

Thank G-d for the Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau, Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, NASA and an early appreciation for music.

Never being much for crowds, I was somewhat of a loner. Not necessarily an outcast, but perhaps by choice. I just didn’t feel comfortable around a lot of people. I didn’t get them and felt they didn’t get me. Though perhaps in their defense, I didn’t get me. I had no “group” to fit into and for the most part dissociated with society in general.

I never put much faith in political, business and religious leaders, much less anyone else in an authoritative role. Not as to be rebellious, I just saw contradiction everywhere.

Trust in humanity was not there for me. I watched, from a distance, and was confused at how people treated each other. To me, the world seemed a cruel and unjust place. I sunk further into my personal self and focused on the natural world. Animals, weather and the universe at large made more sense to me than the typical household union.

I saw patterns in everything from seashells to the planetary orbits and became intrigued by the notion that there was much more to life than what meets the eye.

I spent most of my early childhood this way. Doubtful most people who knew me even remotely knew the personal hell I lived with daily. I learned not to ask questions simply because I never received an answer.

By the time high school came around, I was a complete wreck. I was just sick and tired of society and was becoming more angry all the time. Nothing, if anything, gave me solace. What, if any, real relationships I had with people just seemed awkward. Spending any time in nature, even if that meant climbing a tree in my yard, was good. Music became my outlet and as soon as I could get a pair of headphones on my head I could just close my eyes and slip into a world of musical mystery. I learned the songs and replayed them time and time again, picking out an instrument to listen to at times, and at other times I just focused on the meaning of the song.

Indeed, between the melodramatic sounds of certain bands and the depth of the lyrics that seemed to ask the same questions I had, I had found a place where I could be alone in my thoughts and feel comfortable.

What came next would rock my world to its very core. I felt cold most of the time, emotionally. But when I first laid eyes on my future wife my heart and mind fought an overwhelming battle of wills. I didn’t want a relationship. But little, if any, resistance could be conjured up within me. It was if I had no choice in the matter. Once we talked, I knew we would never part. She was, in a sense, the female me.

Years later I wrote her a letter and said, “You were hauntingly familiar to me when we met. The closer we became the more I felt the sensation that this was not the first time. You were exotic, cosmic and strange, though somehow familiar as your soul, my soul, our soul, was reunited.”

However, as we would both would soon find out, life is full of curve balls. There are times when we are powerless in our situations and find ourselves losing it, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss where there is little light and the feeling of being alone is quite overwhelming. For reasons beyond our control, my wife [then girlfriend] was sent to live with her father out of state. Not long after, she called me and told me she was pregnant.

We knew what we wanted to do, but, being powerless teenagers we were told different. She was kept out of state, and I was told to stay away. I was 16, immature, clueless as what to do, felt I had no rights and certainly without support. She was in similar fashion. Nights and days went by and the walls began to slowly cave in on us both. If that weren’t enough, long into the pregnancy I received a call from her…our baby doesn’t have a heartbeat. It was born still.

To me that was the last link I would have. Somehow I just thought to myself, our baby was the only link we could ever possibly have, and now she is gone. We are gone. I am gone.

There are wounds so deep that forgiveness could never come.

I don’t recall much after that. Time came and went. Days, weeks, months passed as I sought further to dull the pain. I had turned to drugs and allowed myself to sink deep into an awakened coma. Lifeless, angry, numb and without any determination to care if the next day ever arrived, I maintained a very self-destructive pattern. I just didn’t care.

Did I do things I’m not proud of? Unfortunately. Would I go back and change some things? Who wouldn’t. I was young, immature and out of my mind.

The abyss I had sunk into was bottomless, dark and empty.

Every fear and concern that I had growing up for humanity had expressed itself in the most horrific way. I had nowhere to turn and no one to turn to. The only person I had ever given my heart and mind to was taken from me and our child had died. To this day I am jealous of my wife, if for one simple reason, at the very least she was able to feel our baby move within her, something I would never have the pleasure to know or see. Damn humanity for that, and for treating my wife in such a way.

I’m not quite sure how it even happened, but in time she did return and we did, somehow, get back together. We were both an intense train wreck of emotions, trauma and full of anger, pain and emptiness. 33 years later we’re still working on it. The pain never goes away, the intense feelings are still there as if it were yesterday.

We named our baby girl Shira, which basically means [having a voice], something she was never given for the cruelty of man and their madness. To this day we have no reason for her passing. Being the father of a stillborn hurts, I mean it hurts bad. Being helpless is tough, being helpless as a teenage father is tougher. Being the father of a stillborn and watching your wife suffer emotionally is impossible…there are no words.

My wife and I have each other, we love deeply, have had two more daughters, have become grandparents and live out our lives as if there is no tomorrow. Some days are better than others, but the emptiness remains, it will always remain and our questions will never be answered.

I’ve been told talking about our daughter will help. Thus far it hasn’t, doubtful it will. That empty feeling will never go away, I am the father of a stillborn. It’s something I’ve learned to live with, and [slowly] talk about. One thing is for certain, we have given her a voice and her story, our story, will be heard.

I often wonder if she follows us around, walking the trails with us, holding our hands and lying next us at night.

Peace,

MAD

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Lost Lake

Beautifully adorned, Lost Lake is a deep blue wonder surrounded by sub alpine trees that reach high into the sky.

The winter thaw is upon us, the creeks and rivers are running fast, the lakes are filling back up and the wildflowers are blooming like a fireworks display on the 4th of July. On the menu for today, four moose, three deer, a black bear and an amazing landscape! Hiking Lost Lake in Colorado is an adventure close to Denver full of wildlife, wildflowers and waterfalls.

Many people are coming out from their long hibernation, along with the bears, and heading up into the mountains to enjoy the cool mountain air, the incredible explosion of colors and trade in their skis and snowboards for hiking boots and backpacks.

Hiking Lost Lake is an old favorite which never lets us down when it comes to an abundance of wildlife, wildflowers and waterfalls. And once again, we were not disappointed as indeed we were witness to several moose, deer, a black bear and an amazing breathtaking landscape full of the life we’ve come to appreciate that springtime in the Colorado Rocky Mountains provides.

Nature’s air conditioner! Many of our hikes are broken into segments, not necessarily to stop and rest, although in the high country that is not such a bad idea! There are those places along the trail that pull you off the beaten path to explore rare opportunities to experience the wild and untamed landscape. When the snow melt begins in spring and the creeks begin filling, the rapids and waterfalls can be quite dramatic. Here, the Middle Boulder Creek bursts with an incredible volume of fast moving water creating a spectacular sight. The heavy mist fills the air and makes for a great spot to cool down. Exploring such a hidden gem is remarkable, while sitting and soaking up the roar is equally meditative.

As much as you might want to stay here, there is so much more to see when hiking Lost Lake. Though, a quick mental note to return again is always a good idea.

Moving on, the trail deepens into the sub alpine world as you climb higher and deeper into the Indian Peaks Wilderness of Colorado. Snow capped peaks begin to emerge behind the tall pines and the trail resembles more of a creek than a footpath as the ever increasing evidence of snow melt overtakes the landscape. The land is alive and your curiosity begins to spark the imagination of what lies around the bend.

And just as the sun rises in the morning giving way to a vast array of colors in the sky, you turn the bend, rise over the ridge and find yourself witness to an incredible landscape that could only be compared to paradise on earth. Beautifully adorned, Lost Lake is a deep blue wonder surrounded by sub alpine trees that reach high into the sky. The cloudless morning sky is endless, rich and clear and the breeze is ever so slight though crisp and cool. All around, snow capped peaks beg to be summited.

A few backcountry campers, still in awe of their find, begin to emerge from their slumber to fill their lungs with the mountain air while the birds serenade us all with songs of the high country. It wasn’t that long ago we were dumbstruck by a waterfall, yet now that begins to fade as this new encounter has stopped us dead in our tracks. Mouths wide open and our souls leaping with joy, we are now witness to an awesome natural wonder. Yes, let’s build our dream cabin right here and never leave!

After we collected our thoughts and got passed the awe of what hiking Lost Lake has to offer, we began exploring around and above. It is really quite amazing, while you can keep close to the shoreline, equally fun is to climb high above and look back down for a new perspective. Soaking up such a view not only gives you and bigger and much grander understanding of the landscape, but offers views that would otherwise never be seen. Alas, our time here was growing short, though not short on experience. We took one last good look around and chose the long way back out to the main trail.

Peace,

MAD

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Letter to My Best Friend [Wife]

Debbie asked me the other day why I think we’ve been married for over 30 years. As I did when we first met, I went speechless. I spent most of the next day thinking about it and composing a letter to her…

Debbie,

We’ve had some pretty cool conversations lately, with all that is going on and the life changes we’re evolving into, empty-nesters, reverting back to being teenagers and now grandparents! What a journey. But then you stumped me when you asked if I could explain how we’ve been together for 30ish years after being married so young, and all my mind could do was conjure up a whirlwind of memories. I sat speechless and helpless reeling for an explanation, the words did not come, only memories of what we were, what we are and what we want to become. All I could think of was for you to jump into my mind and see, experience and relive all those memories, but through my eyes…my perspective…and maybe then you’d understand. Alas, you’re not Spock so I will engage to find an answer that I hope will satisfy.

I’ll try to keep this “appropriate” though let’s be real, it’s what I feel, it’s who I am and it needs to be said. I see little difference in my feelings for you since day one, if there were a change it could only be positive growth in an evolutionary grasp of what love truly means to me and how you have helped me understand that over the years. Find a comfortable position, read on and please don’t laugh at my raw and unfiltered feelings.

I’ve often wondered if you felt what I feel, the sensation of electricity exploding across my body when you touch me. I want you to experience the journey through the cosmos you send me on when we’re intimate. I want you to feel the warm summer breeze that wraps around my heart when I catch you staring at me. When we were teenagers and would be apart, I would ache to be near you. When we were newlyweds, my body and soul were ablaze with an intensity of being able to have you all to myself. As young parents, I wanted to parade you all over town with pride. And now, as empty-nesters, I want you to know what you’ve done to me, what you mean to me and why I even bother getting out of bed every morning, that my life would be worth so much.

And yet I sat speechless in front of you, unable to answer a simple question, if that were true, and express to you how you’ve made our existence [our lives, our children, our relationship] on so many levels an eternal commitment that I never would have realized could be a reality. It’s truly unfathomable to me that I would be so lucky as to have someone in my life that is more precious than my own life, than life itself. How do I pour out my feelings to you and retain in some sense of clarity what only my heart, mind and soul have known all these years? Love is just a word, but my feelings for you are pure, erotic and primeval energy.

My vision of us being somewhat abstract, I keep it all hidden inside. Who would understand? Who wouldn’t laugh? And yet, it’s all so real to me. When we met two worlds collided and a whole new world was formed from the cosmic collision that now has expanded into a universe surrounding the light of our passion and all that we’ve created from the essence of our beings. You were hauntingly familiar to me when we met. The closer we became the more I felt the sensation that this was not the first time. You were exotic, cosmic and strange, though somehow familiar as your soul – my soul – our soul was reunited. I could bore the world with what an amazing person you are. I could go on and on about the friend, mother, wife…you are. I could go on and on about all that you do, seen and unseen. And still I would sit here, no words forming in my mouth, just flashes and floods of memories and the smile of an afternoon daydream on my face.

How exactly has 30ish years come and gone and we’re still two love struck teenagers deeply intertwined and living out the dreams we would speak of back in the day, before marriage, talking on the phone till the wee hours of the morning? I don’t honestly know. It just seems to me that it works. Each day has brought something new and we embraced it together. Even those days we didn’t see eye to eye, those days we’d love to forget, but they happened and here we still are. Seems to me we just grew together, experienced together, choose our lives to be together and never apart. While you might be technically categorized as my wife, you’ll always be my best friend, and who doesn’t want to be with their best friend 24-7?

I still get weak-kneed when you kiss me. My body still shudders when we are close. I can’t explain it. I love your body as much as your mind. Your heart and soul become more and more attractive each passing year. I still love watching you put on makeup, and still wonder why you cover up what is already beautiful. Your energy and compassion for others captivates me, and though I become jealous, I know you must, it’s who you are. I love the way you smell, without perfume. I love the way you look, without makeup. I love the way you think, unscripted, raw and unapologetic. I love that your adventures are my adventures. I love that your dreams are my dreams. I love that when we’re alone and the house is quiet I can still hear music. I love catching you looking at me. I love watching you perform menial tasks knowing you’ve always got my back. I love that you challenge me, and indeed asked me this question and making me contemplate all these things. As the Emerson, Lake and Palmer song says, “…still you turn me on.”

And yet, here I sit, with all my colourful words at a loss, stumped for a clear and concise answer. To my defense, I’ve never needed a reason, I’ve never sought a reason nor have I ever wanted a reason why, 30ish years later, we’re still here living out our lives together. You’ve taught me about love [and a plethora of other things]. And although my layers and walls might have me presumed as a very internal, quiet and stoic person, I am very much alive inside and ever so grateful for, not only the gift of life, but that I would be so blessed to spend it with you. Did I answer the question, I doubt it. One thing is for sure, I can’t imagine being anywhere else in life than with you and am looking forward to an additional 30ish years of raw and unfiltered adventures, experiences and life as we live it. 

Remember the poem I wrote a while back? It still stands…

When we speak without words…
When we embrace without touch…
When we get lost in the moment…When our souls ache to be near…
…I’d walk to the ends of the earth to find you