On the trail a few hours before a May snowstorm

I recently read someone’s blog where they wrote about their feelings. It was almost like reading a diary entry. I liked it. The author shared his raw emotions, which is rare. He shared some of his deepest thoughts. This blog is headed in that direction, but still more descriptive than emotional. Let me know if you like reading about the thoughts of the writers.

On Sunday, May 2, 2021, I planned to hike 8 miles in the eastern foothills of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. When I started hiking there was a band of rain far to the south, but scattered clouds overhead. It was supposed to rain all day according to the forecast from yesterday. They missed it by about 12 hours. There weren’t many cars parked at the trailhead, especially for a Sunday. The trail was mostly dry, but there were signs of light rain earlier in the day. The first 0.25 mile is tame, then the upward hiking starts. The trail parallels a stream for the first half mile. I wore a short-sleeved polyester shirt and had my small Camelbak pace with me. I packed two long-sleeved shirts and a rain/wind parka. The clouds looked innocent at the start, but I knew that could change fast.

I kept a good, steady pace. I passed (from opposite directions) some mountain bikers, two hikers, and a trail runner. There are some challenging rocky sections on this trail. Most of the trail is in the difficult category. At 5:56 pm I arrived at the junction with another trail and it was decision making time. To the north is the 8 miles of hiking and to the south was the shorter, safer route. I took a short break to contemplate what I should do. Nature made the decision for me. When I arrived at this junction, I was sweating and my bare arms were warm. The air felt to be about 55 degrees F. Then a north wind kicked up at about 15 mph. I felt the temperature drop at least 10 degrees. The sky overhead was totally gray. It was raining about 20 miles to the northeast on the plains. If I went north, there was a good chance that I would be rained on. I had the extra clothing I needed, but I didn’t want to deal with wet, muddy, and slippery trails. The older I get, the lower my tolerance for misery.

Without further delay, I turned left (south) for the shorter hike. Along the way I saw some mule deer, spring flowers, and birds. The ground was dry. Pine needles crunched under my feet. I hiked until I had 1,000 feet of vertical gain, then I took a break under a ponderosa pine tree. I was far enough off the trail so other passersby wouldn’t see me. I started feeling cold so I put on one of the long-sleeve shirts I packed. I relaxed and let my mind wander as I gazed across a steep-walled valley at a mountain. I could hear the stream flowing about 500 feet below me. It was 6:26 pm. I guessed the temperature to be about 45 degrees F, which is the temperature that we can typically see our breath at when the air is cooling. Under normal mountain conditions when it is cloudy, it could rain at any minute or be clear 30 minutes later. This looked and felt like it would be around for a while. 

The view from where I rested under the ponderosa pine tree (Burr, 5/2/2021)

I thought about the cabin in the mountains that I dream of having someday. I’ve always wanted to live in the mountains, but circumstances haven’t been right with life and work. This is high on my priority list for retirement. I would like to have a view of some high peaks that go above timberline. A view of Longs Peak would be the bomb. It has to be close to hiking trails and public lands. I noticed the cloud ceiling dropping, so I decided to start hiking down.

Some mountain bikers whizzed by me on the way. I stopped for a while at the stream crossing to record some sound clips of the flowing water and a short video. 

At 7:30 pm I was back to my Jeep in the trailhead parking area. I was the last person off of the mountain. My car was the only one left. I finished with 5.6 miles of hiking with a total vertical gain of 1,200 feet. On the way home I looked toward the mountains and could only see the bottoms of them. Where I was at 45 minutes earlier was engulfed in clouds. 

Later, at my house, it rained into the night. The weather radar showed snow for areas above 7000 feet elevation. That would have included where I stopped for my rest under the pine tree. There were winter storm warnings for the mountain towns. We had a cool, wet April that is now continuing into May. Colorado has been under drought conditions for a long time, so I welcome the moisture. 

* Update: This is the next day. The area I was hiking in did get hit with snow.

The snow line is at 6500 feet elevation along the Front Range in Colorado (TJ Burr, 5/3/2021)

[Link to audio podcast (6:24): https://anchor.fm/tj-burr/episodes/On-the-trail-a-few-hours-before-a-May-snowstorm-e1053qv]