An ode to the end of summer. The leaves are starting to turn golden; the alpine tundra has changed from shades of green to yellow to red. The landscape is transforming before my eyes.
The wind has picked up a coolness to its feel. The weather is perfect, but it won't last long. Winter is slowly creeping. One last excursion into the alpine is on the agenda; to say goodbye to my favorite season of the year. I want to feel the thin air, the exposure high up on the conglomerate rock.
The Sangre de Cristo mountains are otherworldly and being on top of Crestone Needle feels like I’m in a different universe, sitting high above the Great Sand Dunes National Park. Being up in the mountains feels like the right way to say goodbye to summer. I'm here with two of my closest friends. We are here to explore a new place. To feel the place.
"This trip wasn't about blazing through the peaks, grabbing FKTs, or going fast. It was about being with each other and exploring something new. To experience a new place takes patience."
This trip wasn't about blazing through the peaks, grabbing FKTs, or going fast. It was about being with each other and exploring something new. To experience a new place takes patience. We sit and watch the sunset over South Colony lakes below the famous Ellingwood Arete. I notice the nuances you usually miss when you're working hard, with your head down, moving uphill with focus. The reflection from the water, golden hues bounce towards the sky, my mind and body spin to take in the full perspective of the peaks. I’m in a dream.
The peaks project is about living in the moment and exploring high places. Sometimes that means going fast and testing yourself against the terrain when it feels right, and other times it's about paying your respect to the place and being more observant and relaxed with the approach—being in tune with your mind and soul, carving your own way through the mountain landscapes.
Source credit - Black Diamond
