You are beautiful and awesome, and I love spending time with you. However... Please tell your buddy The Snow to go home already. It's frickin' JUNE, dude. June.
I can see he's making an effort. The rivers are all swollen and flooded and raging like they SHOULD this time of year. But as far as I can tell, he hasn't actually gotten his ass in gear, and it's time for The Snow to go.
The Snow turns into a furnace when it's all sunny and June weathery out. How does that even work? If I'm sweating (I mean "glowing") like a pig, how does the snow not melt immediately? It was probably in the 70's, and your couch surfer friend was STILL sticking around.
And can you say reflected light?
So, just so you know, I am pretty damned white.
I have the kind of skin that will bleach out like a vampire if I hide from the sun for a couple of years, so white you can see blue veins underneath.
Contrary to common belief, though, I can actually tan very well. If I do it right. If I let myself burn, it just peels and then pasty white comes out again in a few weeks. If I put on SPF5000 every time I am in the sun, I will brown up like a perfectly roasted marshmallow in a month or two.
Trick is remembering to apply said sunblock.
Which I forgot.
I know, I know, it isn't YOUR fault, but I could feel my skin getting ready to curl after about 10 minutes on The Snow.
Luckily, some random hikers who passed us and we passed and passed us several times took pity and let us borrow some sunblock. But it was totally not cool for The Sun and The Snow to gang up on me like that.
And do you know how hard it is to WALK on semi-firm/slushy/ha-ha-just-kidding-there's-a-stream-under-there snow?
Well, it's hard.
I brought trekking poles because I am not a COMPLETE dumbass, but it's really difficult to use trekking poles and have easy access to your camera at the same time. And I wanted to take pictures.
I am a little enamored with my BRAND SPANKING NEW CAMERA.
I compromised. I used one pole.
That way, I would lack the stability of two, and it would still be inconvenient to use the camera. Brilliant. And again, not your fault, I know.
But if it hadn't been for The Snow, I might have just gone without.
Boyfriend and I were VERY CAREFUL to follow the signs the rest of the day. But look at this picture. Look at the so-called trail, here, RMNP.
Yeah. Your buddy, The Snow again. About four feet deep.
|The ranger told us that Mills lake was inaccessible right now because a bridge was out.|
I usually go to this lake because the surface is like a mirror more often than not. It is not unusual to get a stunning photo of the mountains reflecting in the water.
But your buddy was in the way.
|I don't know why I was surprised that the lake was still partially frozen. That extra 500 feet from the trailhead must make a difference. Who knew?|
|What is this, Alaska? Look at that frickin' snow! It's like a glacier or something.|
We had lunch and sat there for a while, more exhausted after three miles than I would like to admit.
Please, Rocky, please. Tell The Snow to go home. Up North somewhere, whatever. That way we can hang out more.
|I guess the lake is OK.|