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Old Mountains, New Perspective
Like any child who is spoiled with the beauty of Colorado, it was not until at least high school that I realized that I live in one of the most beautiful states in the country. Some of my favorite memories of freshman year at Fort Lewis were exploring the trails around the school as well as driving to nearby towns like Silverton and Telluride. I knew at this point that I was a mountain girl, through and through.
So I decided to check out some different mountains. I got a job maintaining trails in the White Mountains of New Hampshire with the Appalachian Mountain Club. This past summer, I hiked, slept, ate, worked, and played all over those mountains, and I completely fell in love with them. They were very different from my home mountains, but they were slowly becoming a new home.
When I was to make the treacherous three day drive back to Colorado in August, I knew I would miss the Whites dearly. I tried to think of every possible way I could stay there for just one more season, but it made the most sense to get back to Colorado and finish my senior year.
But when I returned to my home mountains, something wonderful happened: they sparked a new imagination I had never felt before. About a week after I returned to Durango, a friend of mine and I set out to climb Mt. Sneffles, a 14,000 foot peak in Ouray, Colorado, just two hours out of Durango. It was magnificent. As we climbed, hands and feet, up the last quarter mile, I kept looking back at colors and shapes that were other-worldly. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen, but it was euphoric.
I have been spending every weekend camping and hiking, seeing my mountains in a whole new light. I had always thought “The Rockies? Been there done that.” But there are so many places I have not been and things I have never done. New Hampshire was this new world to explore, but coming home was just as big of an adventure.