Well let’s just say (and I’m embarrassed to admit) this was the first year I made it to the Rockies to take in the changing of the seasons. (I’d like to point out that I have only lived in Colorado for 3 years.) We chose a route based on a recommendation from the forest service – to avoid offending anyone I won’t say where we went but it starts with a “w”, ends with a “d” and a-r fall in between.

Once we entered the area we chose a trail at random, hoping that it would bring us breathtaking views…it did but it also brought us much more than we bargained for (dum dum dum). First of all, the trail was barely visible underneath the brush and weeds. I swear rattlesnakes slithered along with us. Secondly, the trail did not circle around so we had to return the same way which is no big deal (not ideal) but oddly enough we met a nice couple along the way as well as an interesting character who appeared to have taken up residence along the trail. Odder so is that we did not see any of them on our return route to the parking lot. Thirdly, we came across not one but two busses that had been converted into dwellings.

Despite the obvious warnings, we kept going. It wasn’t until we ventured upon a handful of abandoned homes, mine shafts and warnings of waste rock, mill tailings and acid mine drainage (from the heydays of Captain Jack’s Mill) that we decided it would be best to turn around. Talk about a freak-out, I swear I saw something peering out of one of the abandoned sheds ready to pounce at any moment. I immediately had visions of “The Night of the Comet” and practically ran out of there. Clearly we made it out safe and sound and we got some pretty pics (ok half of the Aspens had lost their leaves) but that was the last time I “live spontaneously” in the backwoods.