Couldn’t Get Much Higher
My large, heavy luggage proved the perfect metaphor for the baggage I brought to our girls’ getaway in Colorado. It was my first real vacation in years and I realized the toll of the pandemic shortly after we arrived.
I came to Colorado with a lingering cough that worsened through the days, or at least it seemed that way. I annoyed my friends and strangers alike. No one is allowed to cough in public anymore, let alone uncontrollably. An upcoming medical appointment will confirm which C it might be.
In the meantime, let’s share only the highlights with that old Joe Walsh song in the background.
Our home base was the town of Frisco—cute, well-manicured, condense and full of outdoor fun. At almost 9,100 feet elevation, it took my breath away. I had symptoms of altitude sickness, but they were mild. So, I ignored all of the advice I’d gathered prior—like drinking lots of water and staying away from alcohol and other dehydrating liquids. I ate well. I slept poorly. I forced a change of plans after our first hike.
North Tenmile Trail (9,160-10,826 feet elevation)
We had several moderate hikes on the to-do list, starting with one within the Tenmile Range. It’s literally at the end of the road and as we geared up in the parking lot, I was full of promise. I felt great, or at least not that bad. The trail reviews all warned it was steep at the start and then leveled out. My heart immediately hit a harder beat on the first climb, but it was doable because we stopped frequently along a creek to catch our breaths and snap photos. Really, it wasn’t any worse than the one and only training climb I’d done a couple of weeks ago. But this one had far more gorgeous scenery and ample shade.
There are many cut-outs, and once the trail starts to level out beyond groves of aspen, you stop because you just can’t believe how magnificent the wildflower-festooned meadows are, lined with forests of conifers so dense they blur together as you trace them up steep mountain slopes. We’d alternate between sunny meadows and shady groves, where mud, tree roots and rocks required deeper concentration. Butterflies led the way, accompanied by the occasional click-click sound of some slender grasshopper-like bugs in abundance along single tracks. Then came a creek crossing I barely negotiated on the way up and ultimately fell into on the way down. That’s OK. My hiking boots worked as promised, and my pride deserved the dent.
The trail officially ends about 3.4 miles as a perpendicular trail takes over. Just before the terminus, though, is a beautiful waterfall. Then it’s essentially all downhill on the return, with the views just as memorable.
Pbville (10,200 elevation)
After we cleaned up, we drove over to Leadville, a town I knew for endurance races but really has a much longer, storied history as a mining town. It’s pretty obvious it never recovered after the gold rush, but it has a great vibe and good restaurants – like Treeline Kitchen, where we ate that evening.
Some jerk in baggy shorts and a warm beer didn’t get the memo (or read numerous signs) that everywhere is short-staffed, and you may have to wait or get a different seating area. He demanded a rooftop table for six when one wasn’t available and held up the line of parties with reservations. He eventually got his way, and I tried not to let endorsement of his bad behavior get in the way of an excellent meal anchored by blackened cod. The prior evening at 5thAve Grille, I ordered Rocky Mountain Trout. I decided I’d order fish each day to make this a pescatarian vacation. Upon reciting my meals after returning home, my daughter remarked: “Jesus, Mom, all that mercury.”
Leadville caters to tourists, and I was glad to give them my money in exchange for souvenirs. A lot of souvenirs. Its residents are proud of their heritage and the town’s history. As small as it seems, it’s hard to imagine it as the second largest town behind Denver during its heyday.
Dillon Reservoir and Breckenridge (9,600-12,998 feet elevation)
After Tenmile Trail, it was obvious I needed something less strenuous. I expected to be sore the next morning, but only my throat hurt from incessant coughing the night prior. We walked from our Main Street condo down to Dillon Reservoir to take in all the water sports enthusiasts, cyclists, runners and walkers. Paddle boarders and kayakers, too.
We’d planned to do the Perimeter Trail but construction led us to a bike path that circumvented a middle school before circling back to the water. We hit up more shops in Frisco on the return stroll and then prepared to travel to nearby Breckenridge. Unlike Leadville, this place has something to prove. It’s a modern ski town with a bustling downtown area and the largest historic district in the state. You can’t help noticing no homeless people are present, no panhandlers, nothing to detract from the well-maintained shops and restaurants along the main drag and blocks of side streets. There’s a really cute alpine garden too. And a river flowing through town.
There’s also a free gondola to get to the mountain resort, where there were interesting outdoor activities for a fee if you weren’t an Epic passholder. It was crowded. I tried out my canned oxygen available in most sports shops and tourist areas. Not sure it worked, but I certainly didn't feel any worse. This was as an afternoon storm approached and everything shut down. We waited and then decided to take a free shuttle back to the parking lot. As with everywhere, masks are required on any and all transportation options.
We ambled through downtown, with increasingly dense clouds coming our way. On a whim, we peeked into Modis with its amazing architectural details and decided to stop for a drink. Dinner that evening was special. Not just because Twist was a great choice or food and drink (loved the salmon dish), but because we included Jill from Run with Jill, a Denver area resident who was in town for several days. I hadn’t seen Jill in person for 10 years, when she and a son came to San Diego. It was a nice reunion and I’m in awe of her continued trail running and race schedule.
Colorado Springs (6,800-7,200 feet elevation)
Our final full day was full of pleasant surprises. First was our lunch venue at a luxury resort that reeked of old money. We fantasized out loud of how families that can afford $600-a-day rooms might vacation in these parts, with no expenses spared. We had no idea The Broadmoor was so swanky. Nor that its Golden Bee restaurant had such a rich history. I finished my four days of fish with the rockfish sandwich and fries. It was the perfect fuel to the second leg of our day trip.
We drove from The Broadmoor to Seven Falls via an initially perceived wrong turn and 45-minute shuttle line. That’s OK. Totally worth it for the mile of spectacular red rock views reminiscent of The Grand Canyon, but with modern amenities like asphalt paths and running bathrooms. It culminates with seven waterfalls spilling into each other before fanning out into a basin. There are steep stairs you can climb to the top. I made it halfway and was overcome with dizziness. Days later, back at sea level, I wished I’d just sucked it up and kept going. But, truthfully, I had little air to suck in at that point.
If you go, be sure to climb to another nearby viewing platform called Eagle’s Nest (featured in top photo). There’s even an elevator if you aren’t sure about those stairs. The views are beyond…well, just beyond.
For the duration of our trip, we didn’t turn on a radio, watch TV or read our newsfeeds. As such, I remained unaware of how hazardous the increasingly hazy atmosphere from wildfires in my home state making their way east. Denver’s air quality was among the worst in the world while we were there, and that contributed to my coughing fits. The United Nations also released a report on climate change that let all of us humans know this is as good as it gets now. Many of us are at our own personal tipping points, knowing it only gets more extreme from here. A sour note to return home to, for sure. But also a renewed commitment to get better – both me and Mother Earth – so we all can continue to enjoy The Great Outdoors.
Craving more? Here's a 5-minute video I created upon my return to sea level.
