Lately I seem to be stuck in the summer grind— not really on a schedule or routine, with a list of a hundred things to do but never enough time to do them, and no end in sight. I've been on summer vacation for about two months, with little less than a month to go. I'm almost ready to return to school, but I can't stand the thought of writing papers and studying.
We're in the midst of monsoon season in Colorado, where an afternoon storm inevitably moves over the Divide and drenches the Front Range for a few short minutes. Then the skies open up, rainbows crowd the horizon, and the evening sunlight brings the wildflowers to life.
It's always been one of my favorite times during our Colorado summer. I love the daunting clouds racing overhead, the epic lightning shows, and the clean air that follows a storm.
Last week I was sitting in my usual spot on Clear Creek, waiting for rafts to pass, when I saw a monster dark cloud moving in my direction. I knew exactly what was coming. I shot a group of boats and began to upload them when there was a bright flash and an instant boom. Lightning had struck right next to the Argo Mine, directly across the river from where I was sitting. It began to absolutely pour, like I had never seen in Colorado. I angled my umbrella to block the mist, but it soon began raining sideways, drenching my laptop and camera equipment. I quickly abandoned my post and moved into my car where I still had a view of the river. Twenty minutes later, it was bright, sunny and fresh.
These afternoon storms can be impressive, but they sure ruins plans for adventures. Hikers leave at ungodly morning hours to hike 14ers before the afternoon storms roll in; lightning strikes at high altitude are not fun. Backpacking trips are cancelled. Campers sit in their cars, waiting for the storm to pass.
That's exactly what happened to my friend, Emily, and I the other day. We planned to do a ten-mile day hike outside of Idaho Springs, where we'd leave early enough to avoid the afternoon thunderstorms and would be heading down the mountain before the rain started. Inevitably, plans went wrong in the morning, we didn't get to Idaho Springs until 11am.
We drove around for hours, catching up, looking for something to do, realizing that we might be S.O.L. for an afternoon hike. We found a campsite on Fall River Road in Arapaho & Roosevelt National Forest and ate dinner in our car to hide from the lightning. After the storm passed, we explored the area, Fall River was running high from all the rain, everything was vibrantly green and lush.
We wandered through a forest of alpine fireweed and aspen trees and admired the sounds, smells and sights of the creek. Then it rained, all night. The constant pattering of rain drops and rush of the creek put us to sleep. There were no stars, no sunset colors, and no campfire. But we were thankful for the all the water. I'm sure the forest was too.