So Labor Day Weekend continued at a stately pace.
After two day at the resort, it was time to climb and cross some country. I'd been scheming on Lenawee Trail for a while, and this seemed like a decent enough time to act on those desires.
We started at Arapahoe Basin Ski area, and climbed, climbed, climbed our way up to the top.
Up and up, relentlessly. Conversation diminished and the group spread out, everyone in their own, private, invitation-only suffer party.
But, as so often is the case, the effort paid off. We were rewarded with singletrack:
Wonderful...
...precipitous...
...narrow...
...singletrack.
Not to mention stunning views.
It is an indescribable feeling, that of spending time up above treeline. The harshness of the environment is a palpable feeling, evident in the chunky granite, the microscopic gardens, the krummholz...oh yeah, and the lack of oxygen.
"We're the insect life of paradise: Crawl across leaf or among towering blades of grass Glimpse only sometimes the amazing breadth of heaven."
Meanwhile, back at treeline....
And so it went. Lenawee, sweet Lenawee. You were over too soon. I was just getting used to your warm embrace and then you were gone.
What to do, what to do. A whole afternoon stretched ahead of us. I certainly wasn't going to sit around drinking beer and admiring my rotor burn from the previous day.
Nope. Jason and I decided to double down, so we headed up to Keystone for some more lift served fun.
From the lift we could look over at Lenawee...
For the most part, it was too fast and furious and fun to stop for pictures, but we got in several great runs.
Jason on the corkscrew, note raindrops on woodwork. MMmmmm wet woodwork....
A most satisfying day.
