I haven't really written anything new on here in a few months, so I guess it's time. I'm currently taking a break from reading In Search of Captain Zero, which, even though I'm only 60 pages in, is probably one of the top 10 best books I've ever read. Let's hope the next 300 pages keep the momentum. He is an excellent writer, funny, introspective, honest, and able to describe nuances of fact in ways that are obvious once conveyed but for some reason I hadn't seen before. I think reading both of Allan Weisbecker's other books will soon by on my to-do list. I first heard of him while researching destinations for my first trip to Costa Rica. Pavones caught my attention (although I didn't make it down that far that time), and Weisbecker showed up in Google results. For reasons honestly unknown, I stopped into a bookstore after a Spanish tutoring session last week and bought a Weisbecker book.
Why I'm telling you this, my loyal reader, is because I think In Search of Captain Zero has some very interesting insights into Weisbecker that I believe ring true for me as well. He talks about a lifelong and singularly true love affair with a wholly separate She, more alluring than any woman he's ever known. This She is surfing. He writes passionately about how surfing changed his life, his perception and understanding of oceanic processes, and his perspective on basically everything in his life.
I guess what I might be getting at is, somewhere in between when I first moved to Boulder three years ago and right now, I'm fairly certain I too started falling in love with a separate She. A demanding She named snow. (I only hope that I might possibly also be able to eventually find that non-separate and original She... but perhaps only insofar as she doesn't get in the way of the separate She... uggh.) I haven't yet quit my job to spend the rest of my days in her hauntingly dangerous, unforgiving yet perfect and loving arms, but I think the stage has been set, even if only to the smallest degree so far. Something similar to "I would ski every day if I could" escaped my lips today above Brainard lake after skiing a small section of Mount Audubon. There you go.
And now with the backstory told, we can get on to something actually relevant to the title of this post. I've been up to the Brainard Lake area twice in May, and have loved every minute. The Blue Lake trail is seriously one of the most spectacular settings in of the Front Range that I've spent time in. The first outing was a snowshoe to Blue Lake, which turned out to be 10 miles (2 bonus miles each way due to road closure).
Two weeks later (today), we rode those 4 miles on bike instead. After meeting in Boulder at 5am, we headed beyond Ward with 4 pairs of snowshoes, 1 pair of skis+skins, 3 snowboards, and 5 bikes. The two miles of road from winter closure to Mitchell trail parking area were a non-issue on the bikes... highly recommended! The winds were fierce, and in the end the sun proved stronger than predicted, so we had to cut the expedition short due to deteriorating snow conditions. Because of that, we didn't quite get the ski descent vertical I had hoped for, but now I know to get an earlier start and be in better shape next time. There was no let down though... I got my first backcountry turns in on my tele skis (I wouldn't call them tele turns, but it was only my 4th day on teles if memory serves... I need to be patient) after getting skunked on The Angel of Shavano in April. Regardless of how beautiful my turns were, there is just something about skiing that resonates with me and is continually becoming more necessary in my diet. The photos from today are here.
As a very lengthy tangent, if there's one piece of advice I can give would-be Coloradans, it would be to prepare yourself for regularly getting punched in the face by hops if you drink local beer, and - far less facetiously - to prepare yourself for falling in love with a separate She, as so many others here have. One thing you cannot call most people living under the banner of red, white, blue and gold is apathetic or passionless; Weisbecker's words ring true for so many Coloradans. Whatever the folly, it's fascinating and exciting to see so many She's being loved in this state.... whether your name is Tony Krupika, Chris Davenport, or Joe Notfamous. The people of Colorado continue to fascinate me, and likely will for the duration of my stay. Case in point: It was mentioned while having a beer on my 29th birthday to our server at Twisted Pine that I had come down with Peter Pan-itis for want of youth. Her reply was something to the effect of "you and every last bachelor in this town..." She knows exactly (... and apparently all too well) what Allan Weisbecker is talking about in In Search of Captain Zero, and I'm trying to convey here.
