Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Life's Wrong Turns
“So what do you want to do for your birthday,
my love?” I ask my hubby Frank a few days before his 64th birthday.
Although Frank's birthday promises to be plenty warm, there’s
still too much snow in our favorite haunts in the high country, so we choose
Roxborough State Park as our destination. Located in the foothills outside of
Denver, it is a beautiful area known for its stunning rock formations and
diverse wildlife. We
know Roxborough and its trails well because years ago, I
produced a video for the visitor center. With Frank serving as my
faithful grip, we spent many happy hours taking pictures of the park in all of
its moods.
We decide to head towards Elk Valley,
one of the few places in the park we’ve never been. We know that the trail to the valley
connects to the Indian Creek wilderness, another beautiful area we’ve hiked a
few times. We are curious to see where
the two properties intersect and set off in a spirit of adventure. As we climb the steep trail, we are rewarded
with amazing views of the park, the city, and the plains. Splashes of multi-colored wildflowers
decorate both sides of the trail. We spot a handsome Bullock’s Oriole perched
on a dead tree snag and hear spotted towhees scuffling busily through the dead
winter growth. We follow the contours
of gently rolling hills blanketed with thickets of scrub oak and eventually
come upon a lush green valley below which stretches into thickly wooded foothills
to the West. The trail gently slopes down into the valley ending at a
gravel road. After consulting the map, we decide to go to the left,
believing that we are heading towards the wilderness.
From the moment
we enter the valley, we are enthralled with its unspoiled beauty. We pass a crumbling old homestead and imagine
what it must have been like to live here a hundred years ago. Other than a few mountain bikers we have the
valley to ourselves, a rarity especially on such a beautiful day so close to
town. Every now and then, a ruby
throated hummingbird executes a noisy fly-by and several Monarch butterflies
playfully brush past Frank, as if to wish him a happy birthday, or so we
whimsically imagine. The fragrant spring
breeze induces a sense of giddy gratitude as we steadily climb up a steep
incline anticipating a view of the wilderness once we get to the top. Instead, we find that we are facing the
plains instead of the wilderness.
Another consultation of the map shows us that
we’ve gone in exactly the opposite direction of where we intended to go. Duh. We
double back, laughing at ourselves for not knowing how to read a map. But we so don’t care. We are together, doing
what we love best and it is just too beautiful a day to worry about our
questionable navigational abilities. On
our way back, I happen to glance up at a ridge above us and see what looks
like a charred stump, about a hundred yards away.
“That’s not a stump… is it?” As soon as the
words are out of my mouth, the stump moves.
Instantaneously, we realize we’re looking at a pretty good sized black
bear partially screened behind a scrub oak bush. It is standing on its hind legs, ears
quivering and black eyes watching us with an intensity that is somewhat
alarming. It sits down and then rears
up again, obviously agitated by our presence. It occurs to us that this might
be the female bear with a cub that has recently been sighted by other
hikers. Even though we don't see a youngster, we know better than to risk disturbing a
protective mother bear, so after a last look through our binoculars, we slowly
back away before inviting any more attention from mama.
On the way back, we
excitedly go over every detail of our close encounter with the bear, which
obviously has turned out to be the highlight of our afternoon. Had we not stumbled off in the wrong
direction, we would have missed exploring a gorgeous and remote part of the
park and we probably wouldn’t have seen the bear.
Not only has our “mistake” yielded
a memorable birthday adventure for my husband, but it has also served as a clever reminder that sometimes
it’s those wrong turns in life which often lead us to exactly the right
place.
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