The kid walked up while I was down in the creek fiddling around with a big rock, to tell me he’d lost his last fly. I was the fishing guide and supposedly the person who’d take care of that sort of thing and thus, knew I needed to act quickly. Of course, the most obvious solution would’ve been for me just to give him one. Usually, that’d be a simple thing to do– but since, in this case, I didn’t have any, it wasn’t even an option.
Tarryall Mountains,
Colorado treasure.
Smack dab in the middle of the state,
And overlooking South Park.
Improbable and majestic granite towers,
Boulders of all sizes,
Alpine tundra,
Bighorn Sheep,
And Bristlecone Pines.
Rambling streams and beaver ponds.
Smoky Quartz and Topaz.
Calypso Orchids,
Old-growth forest,
And a creek that disappears.
Tales of Utes,
The last wild buffalo,
Wolves,
Gunfights,
Walt Whitman on a train,
Homesteaders,
And miners rich with gold.
Bison Peak, McCurdy Mountain,
McCurdy Tower, and McCurdy Park.
X Rock, the Sand Creek Buttress,
Twin Eagles,
And Spruce Grove.
Humongous crystals, albino trout,
Ute Creek, and Bison Pass.
The Hourglass Burn, Lost Park Wilderness,
Brookside-McCurdy Trail,
And the Old Miner’s Cabin.
A wild place with few people,
Plenty of mystery,
And a warm wind that whispers “Tarryall.”
Audio Version:
It was a Fall Sunday during my slow part of the year. Autumn in Colorado’s Tarryall Mountains is spectacular. The Aspen trees turn gold, and warm sunny days are interrupted only by winter’s occasional and temporary arrival. Most years, late September is an ideal time to be there, with long pleasant days almost perfect for mountain biking, hiking, and climbing area peaks. But this particular year, my days were occupied with the aftermath of the OWA base camp lodge’s burning down rather than recreating. Instead of the comforts of my private lodge bedroom and bath, I was sharing an old one-room log cabin with an 18-year-old intern and not doing much besides clean-up and prep for new construction. On the day in question, I was piddling around the job site doing various chores. Since it was an off day, Lee (the intern) asked if he could go on a straightforward, leisurely hike toward Bison Peak. I considered that he’d been on several backcountry trips with my outdoor program in the past. And since no work was planned for him that afternoon, it seemed reasonable. And so, I gave him my blessing.
A group of backpackers encounter an unexpected trail visitor while descending from the Lost Creek Wilderness.
He yelled at us to stop, from out of nowhere, it seemed. It was startling, and one of the last things on my mind, as I led the group of 9 teenage backpackers down the trail, headed back to our Base Camp facility after a week out in the Lost Creek Wilderness. We’d be back in less than an hour except for whatever was about to happen. He was ragged looking, probably in his 40’s, had a Pit Bull by his side and, thankfully, kept his distance across a dry wash.
A tree catches fire in the Colorado backcountry at a particularly inopportune time.
Lightning streaked across the sky and was followed instantly by an explosion of thunder, telling me that the thunderstorm was somewhere right above us. It was unsettling, but there wasn’t time to worry about it. I didn’t see a lightning flash hit the ground but wondered if there was one up there that had one of our names written on it. The wind kept blowing relentlessly, and the constant gusting made the whole situation seem all the more chaotic. But, where’s the rain, I thought? The Tarryall Mountains needed it. A real downpour might put an end to both the monstrous Hayman Fire, and the smaller thing was that was visibly burning above us on the mountainside.
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