“In his hand are the deep places of the earth. The heights of the mountains are also his. ” Psalms 95:4
Wind in the Rockies as a front blows through can be treacherous. If there is snow with it, it is a white out. If it roars down a street, the leaves will blow to Kansas. If there is drought before it, the dirt blows into a twirling dust storm. My friend and I went to one of my favorite spots around Colorado Springs, Seven Bridges, to hike in the middle of a front passing off the mountains. The windspeed gusts were measured up to 70 miles per hour that afternoon. It was very difficult to see, walk, and not eat dirt. Our hope was to get to the valley of the bridges and there we would be sheltered. Not true. The canyon funneled the wind to roaring levels that blew back the ears on the dog and made us question our decision.
We made it to the third bridge out of seven, and turned around. It was not fun. The third bridge is my favorite and a special spot for the dogs to get into the water. Ice water. The dog did not like it. Not one bit.
We took a trail back that kept us out of the dirt blowing on the road, but led to a dead end. Bushwhacking down the side of a mountain with no trails, down a steep incline with scree (loose tiny rocks), with only a vague ideal of direction is daunting. Following nature’s deer trails down a mountain leads you through the realization that four footed animals have an advantage.
Sliding with your feet turned sidewise, grabbing onto the trees that break in your hands, and trying not to fall is humbling. Then you make it. You have successfully left the safety, ease and comfort of a trail and gone on the trail you make.