tiny indentation of a girl in the snow

yesterday i invited sarah, reji & tom to hike up to lake isabelle with me. it was a gorgeous fall day, and even the drive up was wonderful-- the aspen are changing, so the green hillsides have thick splotches of gold yellow leaves everywhere, the light was rich and low, and the sky was a deep, clear blue. the weather was sunny, cool, and perfect for hiking in a fleece.

the high country has definitely seen some snow-- the entire trail was packed with snow and ice, and the snow was pretty deep once we got up to the top. after a few (dozen) snowball fights, we hiked single-file and stopped every half-mile to be bowled over by the view of the indian peaks with snow blowing off of them and wispy clouds swirling behind them. i took half of a peanut butter sandwich out of my bag near the top and held it straight out as our motivation to keep hiking, and reji surprised us all by yelling, "who am i?" before sprinting off and throwing herself face-down, arms and legs out in the snow. tom and i were laughing too hard to guess-- sarah won with a tentative "man from snowy river?"

it was a great hike and a beautiful day in the company of good friends. we talked about ski season, interesting scientific facts and the recurring theme of people getting angry when their friends are sad. to be scientific about it, we tried to make reji feel sad to measure our levels of anger, but homegirl's buzz is hard to jive, so we became exhausted and called it a failed experiment. we were muddy and sleepy by the end, and tom and i decided to risk looking like dirty hippies when we stopped downtown for some food in boulder.

the best thing about the hike (besides the peanut butter sandwiches we enjoyed at the top) was just the sense of climbing up and out of everything in my mind. it was a perfect place to relax, enjoy the company of friends, ride the endorphins, and meditate without feeling burdened by the things that have been pulling me down. i think i might spend some time up in the mountains soon-- pack a bag, take a huge stack of library books, and enjoy the long commute to work. it would be worth it for the peace, the fall smells and the open, inviting trails every morning. and let's not lie... spending a few autumn weeks in the rocky mountains never hurt anyone's writing career.