Before we headed down from Colorado National Monument (bound for pizza at The Hot Tomato, a famous spot in Fruita) Dan pulled us all off the road at an overlook to take in a really astonishing view. A hanging canyon! I’d never seen one before.
The vistas were just spectacular. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
Can’t get enough.
I could have stayed for hours, drinking in this view.
Sadly, kids’ tolerance for spectacular vistas doesn’t quite match adults’ – and eventually, reluctantly, we had to tear ourselves away to feed the little critters. But the good news is: I can close my eyes and get right back to this spot anytime I want.
Don’t get me wrong: I love a nice (short) nature poem as much as the next girl. But sometimes you want to get stuck deep in an epic, right? Just me? But I don’t read Ancient Greek and – frankly – Ye Olde Englishe is a foreign language, too. Enter some absurdly talented translators who have made it their business to take the greatest epics and update them for the rest of us.
First of all, if you missed Seamus Heaney‘s swashbuckling translation of Beowulffrom 1999, what are you waiting for? It has everything you didn’t know you wanted to read about – mead halls, Grendel, Grendel’s totally badass mother, making this a weirdly appropriate Mother’s Day gift too – but it’s legit readable. Will you want to throw a mug of grog at a dragon? Yes, you will, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Emily Wilson is the first woman to translate Homer’s epic The Odyssey, and she does a bang-up job of it. I read it on the heels of an older translation of The Iliad last spring, and this version – which really moves – was a breath of fresh air after that. Pair with A Thousand Ships, by Natalie Haynes, if you want to get the women’s perspective (spoiler alert: it ain’t pretty).
Not sure if this counts, but The Owl and the Nightingale is a honking long poem (1,800 lines) from an indeterminate time in English literary history – there are references to King Henry, but which King Henry, there have been so many? It’s bawdy and a little rude, and kind of ridiculous – an owl and a nightingale endlessly debate which of them is better and which of them is a useless pile of… well, you know. Simon Armitage presents a new translation with sumptuous illustrations and ALL of the Medieval potty jokes.
If you’re looking for something with which to celebrate National Poetry Month, and you’ve had your fill of the Romantics, I do encourage you to delve a little deeper into literary history. With Seamus Heaney, Emily Wilson, and Simon Armitage to guide you, how can you go wrong?
What’s your favorite modern translation of an epic poem?
Yawwwwwwn. Morning, friends. Happy Monday to you all – are you coming into this week off a good weekend? I hope so! As for me – we’ve had another weekend of sickness in the house. This time, poor Peanut caught whatever Nugget was fighting off last weekend (was it last weekend? life has been so overwhelmingly busy lately that I can’t remember). I felt so bad for the poor kid – she was really under the weather on Saturday and definitely perking up by Sunday, but not near 100%.
With Peanut down for the count, Nugget was glued to me all weekend. (That’s a normal state of affairs, actually.) On Saturday, while Peanut rode out the worst of her bug and Steve worked, I took Nugget to swimming and baseball. Sat with Nugget’s buddy’s mom, who has the same name as me and was also holding down the fort solo, so we started a club. (Kidding.) And on Sunday, I tore Nugget away from his Nintendo for an afternoon of Mommy-son adventuring. I had in mind a bike ride on the C&O Canal Towpath in Georgetown, but Nugget wanted a four mile hike (from Riverbend Regional Park all the way to Great Falls and back) and I am always down to get my steps in, so we went with his plan. Then hit the garden center on the way home, bought round 1 of vegetables for our container garden, and spent an hour elbow deep in dirt in the garden. It was (1) a good way to wind down a Sunday; and (2) kind of horrifying to see how out of control the patio garden containers had gotten.
Reading. It was another crazy-busy week at work, which always translates to a slow reading week. It was a good one, though, just slow. I spent the entire workweek over Illyrian Spring, and it was time very well spent – definitely going to be one of my highlights of the year. Finished the last few pages on Saturday morning and spent the rest of the weekend missing Grace, Nicholas, and the other characters. Book hangover, hello. For something different (and quicker) I polished off The Owl and the Nightingale (new translation from the Middle English by Simon Armitage) and then turned to The Morville Year, Katherine Swift’s month-by-month account of the life in her Shropshire garden. I’m about halfway through and it’s a delight.
Watching. Well, we finished what is now fondly known in our house as “Obama Parks” – so good, you guys. (Although the butterflies in the Monterey Bay episode were unnecessary. WHY?!) And while we figure out our next family show, Steve showed the kids The Wizard of Oz on Sunday night. (Apparently, he loves that movie, which just goes to show that after almost seventeen years of marriage you can still find out new stuff about your spouse.) Also, it reinforced for me that while I recognize the cinematic achievement, etc., The Wizard of Oz is not my jam. Don’t @ me.
Listening. I’m still laboring under the delusion that I am going to finally listen my way through my entire podcatcher. I know! Crazy, right? I still have sixty hours to go of The Mom Hour and that’s just one show. Send wine, you guys.
Making. Well, the beginnings of a patio garden, at least. An hour’s worth of work on Sunday and what I have to show for it is: two pots cleaned out (you have no idea how overgrown these were – weed central) and planted with cherry tomatoes and pole beans – trying something new. I mixed some wood ash into the soil, because I had some in my fire pit and read it was good for tomatoes and beans, so stay tuned folks. And then I spent the rest of the time hauling spiky, thorny vines out of the ground – I don’t have grand designs on this garden but it would be nice if it didn’t look like Sleeping Beauty’s palace after the gardener had been asleep on the job for a century, ya know? I have more pots to clean out and a few more seedlings to plant, and the whole place needs a good hard clean, but it’s nice to have something to do out there. Other than the hour in the garden – many more of those to come – I made incremental progress on my Costa Rica photo book, but I will have to dial that up because I got another “unlimited pages” coupon code from Shutterfly, this one expiring on May 8, so the clock is ticking.
Moving. Still obsessed with my Peloton! I’ve ridden “with” my friend Amanda a few times – we fire up the same class and give each other virtual high fives – and racked up a bunch more rides on my own. And in between rides, I’m also working my way through Emma Lovewell’s “Crush Your Core with Emma” program. It’s not easy, fam. Oh, and there was that four mile hike with the smol and the gardening has been surprisingly strenuous, too, basically I’m tired.
Blogging. Themed Reads coming atcha on Wednesday, and it’s a fun one for National Poetry Month. (Do you guys like those? I’m thinking of wrapping up the series at the end of 2022 because I have something fresh – and totally different – in mind but if y’all like Themed Reads I have plenty more ideas so I could keep it going, just think about it and let me know.) And on Friday, back to Colorado!
Loving. Sunroom reading season has proven to be short-lived in this house; the sunroom is not climate controlled, so it turns into an oven in the summer and an icebox in the winter. But in spring and fall, it’s totally working for me to sit out there with my tea and book, and I am deep into enjoying it right now. I have these Adirondack chairs and they’re the coziest.
Although we traveled out to Colorado to spend the entire Thanksgiving week, I didn’t actually take much time off – instead, we planned to do our major exploring (Arches and Black Canyon of the Gunnison) over the weekend and squeeze smaller local adventures around the work hours. Monday was out of the question, as Steve was writing a brief and I was in a virtual mediation all day, and most of Tuesday was spent catching up on emails that piled up during my mediation on Monday. But we did slip out for a Tuesday lunchtime hike at one of Dan and Danielle’s favorite spots – Colorado National Monument. “The Monument,” as Dan and Danielle casually called it, was in Fruita, about twenty minutes from their house – perfect for a quick hit of spectacular scenery.
Dan had in mind a fun hike for us – mostly flat, through desert scrubland and surrounded by stunning mesas, capped off with just the right amount of climbing and scrambling to a fun, tucked-away, rock formation.
As always, Danielle tutored us in the local plant life while we hiked. I loved the juniper!
The views in every direction were absolutely gorgeous! I love the desert – so otherworldly, and completely captivating.
Eventually, the flat and sandy trail hit rock and started to climb. This was a perfect hike to do with the rugrats – just enough variance to keep it interesting, but nothing unsafe or out of their range.
After a few hundred feet of casual climbing, we reached our destination – Devil’s Kitchen!
It was a cool little area, tucked away inside a wall of rock and surrounded by hoodoos. The kids immediately started to climb on everything.
Sadly, I had a work call and we hadn’t really planned well, so I took my call perched on top of a hoodoo while the kids explored and Dan, Danielle and Steve milled around keeping an eye on everyone and talking about grown-up, non-work stuff.
Eventually, I wrapped up my call and joined the rest of the party exploring the cracks and crevices and fissures in the rock. So cool, and nothing like our hiking at home in Virginia!
I turned my camera on the landscape and made it my mission to capture the entire view – all 360 degrees of it. I didn’t want to miss an inch!
Eventually, reluctantly, we had to scramble down out of Devil’s Kitchen and back to reality – but not before stopping at a hanging canyon to take in the jaw-dropping view. That’ll be next week, so check in with me then…
When I packed for my business trip to Seattle, I optimistically tossed my tie-dye running shoes (not my favorite pair, but very PNW) and a couple of workout outfits into my suitcase. I figured at a minimum I’d get in some hotel gym time, but I was hoping for at least one good run outside. On Wednesday morning, I stepped out into the chill and ran from my hotel to the Seattle Center, looping around the Space Needle, Chihuly Gardens, PacSci, and the new Climate Pledge Arena (release the Kraken!) and cursing my decision to leave my phone in the room – not only because I got no pictures, but also because there were a few minutes there when I wasn’t sure where the hotel was. (Whoops. Don’t worry. I found it.) Anyway – I promised myself I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. On Thursday I woke up to sunny skies, temperatures in the sixties and climbing, and an hour before I had to be anywhere for conference activities. I’d originally planned to get an Uber over to Green Lake, but decided I’d have time for a longer run if I stayed close to the hotel. Still wanting water views, I went big: down past Pike Place, over to the Alaskan Way seawall, where I discovered that – as Seattleites say – the mountains were out.
Even beautiful, elusive Rainier!
Seriously, though. Is there anything more iconic than a Washington State Ferry against a backdrop of snow-capped Olympic Mountains? I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
Great Wheel!
A woman stopped me as I was running back from Seattle Center on Wednesday to rave about my sneakers. They’re pretty cool, I had to agree.
Seattle, I love you. I don’t have plans to go back anytime soon – not until December, for the litigation department holiday party, although plans can change and I always assume another trip to Seattle is in the offing. But if I don’t end up taking in these Puget Sound views for a few months, I’m glad I had such a perfect morning run. Five kilometers along the seawall, gawking at mountains all the while.
Well, here’s that old Monday, coming around again like it does this time every week. I’m pretty relaxed about Mondays these days, but it helps to come into them off a good weekend and this weekend was… not very good. I was wiped out going into it, which is always a bad start. After a week in Seattle at a legal department summit, I was already behind and had more than a week’s worth of digging out to do – and that’s without reckoning on my closest coworker, with whom I work every day, being out of the office enjoying a fabulous (and well-deserved!) Hawaiian vacation. I was obviously happy to cover for her, but I felt like I was drinking from the fire hose all week. Compounding the overwhelm was the fact that Nugget was sick with a cold all week; at first I was worried that I’d brought something home from Seattle, but after considering the possibilities carefully I concluded that he must have picked some germ up at soccer camp. Steve caught it too, and while Peanut and I were fortunately unscathed, it meant a lot of extra work and not much sleep for me, as the little guy was only comfortable curled up next to me all night – which was sweet until he started coughing in my face. So… doing the work of two people, on half my usual sleep. Good times.
With all that (and I swear I’m done complaining about it) I really needed a joyful, relaxing weekend. I did not get it. I try to stay positive around here and to look on the bright side, but there’s no way to sugarcoat it: the weekend just sucked. Nugget was mostly over his cold, but he was drained and out of sorts and he dealt with it by griping at me all weekend. Peanut was out of sorts too; maybe she is fighting off whatever Nugget brought home after all, or maybe it’s something different; I didn’t have the energy for kid mood detective work. We spent Saturday running around – from baseball pictures to Target to Nugget’s baseball game (where Peanut got chewed out by one of the parents for going into the dugout – I mean, she shouldn’t have been in there, but the dude ruined my video of Nugget getting a hit off a pitch from Dad) to a birthday party. I was exhausted and severely grumpy by the end of that gauntlet. On Sunday, we celebrated Easter with a hike (no church; crowded indoor spaces are still outside our family’s COVID risk tolerance, especially with two of us recovering from being down and out last week) – trying to watch the eagles at our favorite local park and take in the last of the Virginia bluebells, but the kids were horsing around and fighting the whole time, and tempers were seriously frayed. I finally lost it when Peanut turned her nose up and made “ew, gross” noises at the gruyere cheese souffle I made for Easter dinner (WTF, kid!) and I’m thoroughly glad to see the back of this weekend.
Reading. While last week and the weekend may have been rotten all around, the reading – at least – was good. Early in the week, I finished Kate Hardy, which was not up to D.E. Stevenson’s usual standards, but still, any D.E. Stevenson is going to be better than most anything else. Spent the end of the week and the weekend escaping into my spring book stack whenever I could – it may have been the only thing keeping me going – and what an escape it was. Clare Leighton’s gorgeous garden memoir, Four Hedges, liberally adorned with her astonishingly beautiful woodcut illustrations. Then Skylarks with Rosie: A Somerset Spring, the latest from Stephen Moss, one of my favorite nature writers – thought-provoking and so special. Then Old Herbaceous: A Novel of the Garden, a slim but beautiful book I tore through in less than a day. And finally, ended the weekend curled up with Illyrian Spring, which has been on my TBR for years.
Watching. Every so often, the kids discover something on Netflix and push it on the family, and every so often, they hit it out of the park. That was the case with our family viewing this week: we binged (or what passes for binging – one to two episodes a night) the ridiculous Netflix series Is It Cake? – in which professional cake artists compete to fool a panel of judges into thinking that their cakes are ordinary objects. Nugget discovered it, it was just as silly as it sounds, and we laughed and joked and enjoyed every minute. Ended the weekend with something much more edifying: the new nature series, Our Great National Parks, narrated by our beloved President Obama. We watched the first episode on Sunday night and were completely blown away. More to come.
Listening. I’m still on a podcast train. Every so often I get the idea that I’m going to clear out my podcast backlist and I listen to a bunch of episodes before giving up in despair and getting even deeper in the hole. I’m currently trying to listen my way through the 68 unplayed episodes of The Mom Hour I currently have in my queue. It’s a project.
Making. Well, there was that cheese souffle I mentioned above – the one that Peanut found so unbearably disgusting. (It doesn’t look so awful, does it?) The rest of the family loved it, so I have that going for me. Nugget inhaled his generous helping, I had two scoops, and Steve ensured we would have no leftovers. Other than souffle (and a French-inspired potato salad) I don’t think I made anything last week… except for work product, of course. I don’t think I’ve ever written so many emails in a week before, and I’m still behind.
Moving. So – I finally did it, you guys. I got a Peloton bike! I’ve had a membership for awhile (since pre-pandemic, actually; I joined right before COVID, intending to use the bike in my then-office gym) and have done sporadic workouts using the app. (I really love Peloton yoga, but it turns out it’s kind of difficult to follow Kristin McGee’s cues on an iPhone screen. Who knew?) When Peloton rolled out a good deal (for members only) on equipment, I thought about getting the Tread, because I wore out the belt on my old treadmill and have been needing to replace it, and to replace a treadmill belt turns out to cost almost as much as a new treadmill. But the more I thought about it, the more I started to feel that what I really wanted was the bike – so after a long, ruminative text conversation with my friend (and Peloton addict) Samantha, I decided to just go for it. It arrived on Thursday and I’ve already done ten rides! (Don’t panic: that includes warm-up and cool-down rides.) Including a live class on Sunday morning, riding with my pal Amanda! In between, some hiking and walking, but I’ve pretty much been all about my new toy. I’ll have to find a good balance, because all I want to do is spin right now. (I don’t love having it in my living room – in the Christmas tree spot, no less – but it was the only option, for now at least.)
Blogging. Very travel-heavy week for you. On Wednesday, I’m taking you running in Seattle; the views are outrageous. And on Friday, back to Colorado for an incredible hike.
Loving. I can keep this short. I love my Peloton. Seriously, love it, love it, love it. I can’t believe I waited so long to get one. I love you, Peloton! Peloton, I love you!
Asking.Do you have a Peloton? What’s your handle, if you do, and do you want to be friends? Also, what are you reading this week?
From the moment we started planning our Thanksgiving visit, Dan insisted that his number-one “must do” was going to be taking our family to Ouray, Colorado. I don’t think Dan would be willing to commit to a favorite spot in Colorado, but if pressed, he would probably admit that Ouray is a contender. We could immediately see why.
The town is nestled in the mountains, surrounded by hot springs (we drove past a big public spring with folks steaming in the mineraly water even on a very cold day) and boasting an “old West” vibe and a main street full of quirky shops. (Nugget and Peanut both talked me into buying them polished crystals at a New Age shop, which Dan and Danielle assured us was “very Ouray.”) We all stopped for a quick lunch and local beers at a popular small brewery on the main drag, and then walked off to hike a portion of the Ouray Perimeter Trail.
Our destination was the “Baby Bathtubs” trail, an adorable name I felt sure held some special meaning. The mystery was short-lived.
Behold the baby bathtubs: oblong divots in the rock, an odd erosion puckering the trail. I found them completely charming.
I think Ollie liked the baby bathtubs, too.
Get a load of these views! We hiked up, and up, and up – Dan is notorious for underestimating time and distance while hiking, and it seems he underestimates elevation, too – but the payoff was well worth it.
Everywhere we looked, snow-capped peaks! Unreal.
I could definitely see why Dan and Danielle are so fond of Ouray – it was absolutely breathtaking (and not just because of the elevation). A banner downtown proclaimed it “the Switzerland of America” – it checks out. We’ll be back for sure!
How cute are baby bathtubs, amirite? What’s your favorite mountain getaway?
I wait all year for Virginia bluebell season. This year, as we squelched through the muddy trails (lots of rain last week; fortunately the flowers love it) Steve asked me when we first hiked the bluebell trail, and I couldn’t remember exactly but it was 2017 or 2018. (I tend to landmark events in life by my job, and it was two firms ago; does that help?) In 2020, this trail was basically unreachable; it was open, but the parking lot was closed, and packing in two miles just to get to the trailhead was a non-starter, so we hiked at Manassas Battlefield National Historical Park, which also boasts a glory of bluebells. And we liked it so much that we repeated the hike last year. So we were overdue for a return visit to Bull Run Regional Park, or “the O.G. bluebells” as the trail is known in our house.
Don’t worry: we may not have been at the battlefield this year, but we were still hiking along the legendary Bull Run.
Shall I just let the pictures speak for themselves, mostly?
Woodland glory!
I have this thing with bluebells juxtaposed against wood. It’s a vibe.
See? There I go again.
And again. Someone stop me!
Such a great day.
Everyone loves the cherry blossoms, but I personally can’t get enough of the Virginia bluebells.
What’s your favorite local wildflower where you live?
Yawwwwwn. G’morning, friends. How were your weekends? Mine was busy – as usual – probably too busy. Last week, as I mentioned, I was in Seattle on business for five days. It was a wonderful trip, as trips to Seattle always are: lots of time spent with colleagues who have become friends, plenty of laughter, new friends from other business lines and countries, and three really inspiring days of speakers. I’m still getting used to feeling actually happy and energized and joyful about my job – it’s a new experience for me as a lawyer.
Anyway, as fun as the week was, I was wiped out by the end and really needed a weekend of just downtime, so obviously I did the exact opposite. On Saturday I slept late (guess I was still on Pacific time, unusual for me because I normally snap right into the local time whenever I travel) but when I woke up we rolled out the door right away and headed over to Riverbend Park, our local favorite, to wander our favorite trail and check on the local eagles. Surprise: we arrived to find a bluebell festival in full swing. There was a “ninja course” and “magnet fishing” and the kids were in hog heaven – although we did drag them away for that hike for a little while. It was bonus bluebells, because our big plan for the weekend was to hike at our old favorite flower-viewing spot, the Bluebell Loop Trail at Bull Run Regional Park, on Sunday. Which is what we did, and it was absolutely glorious – full recap coming on Wednesday. Followed immediately by swim lessons (for Peanut only; Nugget went on Friday and we just juggled the schedule again so they’re now going on Saturdays, at the same timeslot, big exhale people). And then instead of collapsing on the couch like I wanted to, I spent the afternoon baking focaccia, hanging the eno hammock for the kids, and building the first bonfire of the season. I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.
Reading. Not much time for books last week, but I made the most of what time I had. I was reading Green Thoughts at the end of last weekend, but left it home and brought my kindle with me to Seattle. Had big plans for whipping through several kindle books, but there wasn’t that much downtime and what downtime there was, I was so fried that I – wait for it, wait for it – watched TV. I know. I did make it through one book, though: Cheerfulness Breaks In, because Barsetshire is always a good place for the weary. Turned back to Green Thoughts when I got home and wrapped it up in the car on the way to swim lessons, then picked up Kate Hardy. I’m only about a third of the way in but it’s delightful so far.
Watching. Surprising amounts of TV, but I just wanted to turn my brain off; that happens sometimes. I love watching The Daily Show when I go out to Seattle because it’s on at the entirely respectable and manageable hour of 8:00 p.m. – except for last week, which was apparently a hiatus of some sort. Sob. But they replaced it with back-to-back episodes of The Office, so I laughed my way through quite a few visits with Jim, Pam, Andy, Dwight and the gang and then switched over to Nick at Nite – which was showing Friends all night long and making me feel old. Can I say, too, that Friends has not aged well. Still love Monica and Chandler but was cringing a lot, especially at Joey. (Sob, again.) I’ve never liked Ross, so while his obnoxious character traits were definitely in sharper relief too, it was less of a disappointment.
Listening. Between work and naps on the plane to and fro, I also listened to a bunch of podcast episodes. I had big plans to pick one and treat it like an audiobook and blaze through back-to-back episodes but I ended up flitting from The Mom Hour to The Read-Aloud Revival to The Stubborn Light of Things to Tea or Books to As the Season Turns and enjoyed every minute.
Making. Basically no work product all last week, whoops. That’s what happens when you’re fully booked up with conference activities. I’ll pay for it this week – more than 100 unread emails and I’m covering for a colleague on vacation, yowsers. Good thing I like what I do. Outside of work, I made: lots of bluebell photos; Sunday dinner – homemade focaccia and a tomato and bean bake, yum; a gigantic bonfire and, related, a yard completely cleared of winter storm debris and a diminished (but still very untidy) woodpile. Not a bad weekend’s work.
Moving. Had two absolutely lovely runs in Seattle: one morning looping the Seattle Center – from my hotel to the Space Needle, around the Chihuly Gardens and PacSci, circumnavigating Climate Pledge Arena (release the Kraken!) and back; the second morning down to the waterfront, running along Alaskan Way from Pike Place all the way to the Mariners’ ballpark and back. The mountains were out and it was glorious. Also squeezed in two barre workouts, because I am trying to be better about resistance training. And two bluebell hikes over the weekend. I’m exhausted, in a good way.
Blogging. Sharing bluebell pictures with you on Wednesday, because how can I not? (If you’re local to DC or NoVA, note that the bluebells should be peaking for another week or so, so you still have time.) And back to Colorado on Friday: a sweet mountain town and a hiking trail with the absolute stinking cutest name I’ve ever seen.
Loving. This will come as no surprise, but the thing that has made my life for the past week has been getting outside as much as humanly possible. I keep seeing all this research about how important time in nature is to physical and mental health, and it’s so true. And my fresh air time took me to such wonderful places this past week – from running along a seawall with jaw-dropping mountains in the distance, to squelching through mud with my family and gaping at a glory of bluebells, to standing in my own backyard poking at a roaring bonfire for two hours. I always feel better starting the week with my fresh air tank full.
And now for something completely different! Continuing our quest to squeeze in as many National Park visits as we could during our Thanksgiving trip out west, we jumped in the cars and headed to my brother’s closest legacy park – Black Canyon of the Gunnison.
I had never heard of Black Canyon of the Gunnison before a few years ago, when Jack and Colton visited (and hiked all the way down into the canyon!) on Rock the Park. It doesn’t seem to be an especially well-known park, and not over-popular with visitors (judging from the fact that the park was almost empty on the Sunday before Thanksgiving) and that’s a shame, because it’s gorgeous.
We took our time driving into the park, stopping at a few overlooks to take in the views. The canyon is almost a surprise – you drive over miles and miles of mostly flat farmland, and then BAM, there it is.
Eventually, we slowly made our way to the visitors’ center, where we collected Junior Ranger workbooks for the anklebiters and then headed off on a short rim hike. It ended up being a very short hike, with the combination of an icy trail and sheer drop-offs sending us scuttling back to the visitors’ center – but we got in the views and the flavor of the park, so I called it a success. The dogs got to join us on the hike, and Danielle pointed out different plants along the trail (she had everyone walking along rubbing sage and sniffing our fingers) and a good time was had by all.
Look at those canyon walls! Stunning.
Have you ever been to Black Canyon of the Gunnison? What’s your favorite hidden gem park?
covered in flour 