I’m giving up my space for the day to Lee Lee Schmalz, my dear friend from Colorado. I’ve know her forEVER and I can tell you, this girl LIVES – out loud and to the fullest. And she’s a truly talented writer, too. There aren’t many people that can dive into a writing project, swim around in it for less than 10 minutes, and burst triumphantly back to the surface with a great piece of writing. LeeLee can do it, and she knows I envy her for that. But I love her writing.

After two nites and a day and a half or so of roughin’ it and elk-watchin’ in the great outdoors of south-western Calla Rada, it was decided that not enuff outdoors, not enuff hikin’, not enuff scoutin’, had been had. There’s more to do, more to see, only 3 hours away! So, after breakfast, we pack (some people take waay to much stuff), head home, unpack (did I mention some people take waaaaay too much stuff?), shower (omg, its never felt so good!), fight off the (big, strong, all-encompassing) urge to nap, and head up on the Mesa. “It’s just a short hike,” I’m told.

Wull, I never knew there were fourteeners on the Mesa, but I swear to the Lord above I was climbin up one. And across one, which was the “quicker, less strenuous” route, I’m told, from Point A to Point B. At about Point A-anna-half, I was thinkin’ I was just… about …done, but then “The hard part’s over,” I’m told. At that point, I’m too elated in this haze of giddy jubilation that I choose not to dwell on the fact that if “its all downhill from here,” that its all gonna be UPhill on the way back. That admittance woulda crumpled me right on the trail.

Oh yeah, the “trail.” Really? Itza TRAIL? Once, we lost the “trail” and my guide was so happy to find the “trail” again. I saw NO difference. Scrub- and oakbrush, butt-tall grass, hidden rocks and downed trees. What, just because there’s bear poop on it makes it a trail? Like they don’t poop on un-trails? Just cuz there’s mountain lion tracks (on top of our boot-prints) makes it a trail? And wait wait wait a minute, back up, bear poop? WE’RE out HERE, there BEARS go POOP? If a bear sees me huffin and puffin, he’ll know he has an easy score. Even if he ain’t hungry, he’ll do it – you know – for fun. For practice. For sport.

And I notice, and I wonder, “Hmmm, my guide never turns around to look behind us, to make sure nuthin’s back there. Huh. THAT’S funny.” Then BAM! I realize, its cuz I’M back there. When the bear or the lion decides to attack, from behind, which is what they do, I’m told, so they can break your neck, I’m told, it’ll be ME they get! The guide doesn’t hafta worry about what’s back there! The guide has ME back there! ME – his protection. When I point this out, that he never turns to look behind us, “I don’t HAVE too look. I LISTEN,” I’m told. Wull what if the bear puts his mammoth paw over my mouth to squelch my scream, and whispers sumthin like “You make a sound, little girl, and I’ll hunt down and eat your whole family!”? The only thing you may notice is NOT hearin my huffin and puffin and mutterin under my breath “What kind of an effin a**hole would call this a ‘little,’ ‘quick’ and ‘less strenuous’ hike?! M-er f-er! Do you KNOW how many birds are gonna build their nests with strands of my hair they pluck from a branch that yanked it from my head and then you make me sit down and be all still and quiet, seemingly in or on a gnat nest, so that you can do your cow-callin, frickin a sumbeech…” anymore.

Anyway, all that aside (and said in jest, really), what a fabulous time. Nature’s beauty like you don’t often see. Well, like I don’t often see, anyway. My guide sees it alllllll the time, is ate up with it, and is happier than – well, than a bear in a berry patch – when he sees bear and lions and elk and deer and moose and turkeys and sheep and daggome sharks and tigers and Bigfoot and wolves and rabid dogs and feral cats and thugs with guns or  ANYTHING on the pix from his “trail” cam. And, actually, there were no lion prints, I only added that to escalate the drama and maybe help you to feel sorry for me – but there WAS bear poop, lots of it, and there were lots of spots where cow elk and calves had bedded down (trust me, I was thinkin of playin’ Goldilocks and nappin in one of ‘em, but that “three bears” part of the story was all too real and convinced me otherwise), and there were elk and there were grouse and fabulous wildflowers and a gorgeous creek and a nice view of my, shall we say, “able-bodied” (mmm hmmm gurls, you KNOW what I’m talkin aBOUT!) impressive guide’s backside (hey it wasn’t intentional, that just how it works when you’re a follower) and just that balance – that balance that nature provides, lettin you know that you’re just a speck, and extreeeemely lucky to be right here, right now. Some people grasp it, some people bypass it. Its my privilege (to at least try) to grasp it, and I appreciate how the same scrub- and oakbrush, butt-tall grass, hidden rocks and downed trees that can trip me up and make me fall are also there to hold up to my reach, givin me sumthin to pull myself up that “trail” with.

Lee Lee soakin' up the sun and fun.