Lookout Mountain

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 Woke up before dawn this morning and saw it was ten degrees outside, and a fresh coating of powder out the window. Wasn't exactly enthused to be going out hiking, but got going on schedule and drove two hours down to Golden, where I was the first one at the trailhead.

There were four of us today---Jonathan, the organizer, as well as Andrew, an ex-New Yorker I met on the first hike, and Zanen (?), a Texan whom I hadn't met before.

We started off on the snowy trail up Chimney Gulch. Surprisingly they wanted me to take the lead and set the pace. It seems they were quite happy to have me do it, and were somewhat glad the hyperkinetic pace-setters from previous trips weren't there.

As it happens, I had done this hike before. Well part of it, at least. Last summer when I was living in Boulder, I went off an spontaneous drive one weekend and wound up in Golden, where I drove up Mount Zion and parked at the Windy Saddle, halfway up, then walked up the trail to the Buffalo Bill grave and museum at the top of Lookout Mountain.

This time we were starting down in Golden itself, not halfway up, yet it still strange to be hiking the same route as last summer. A redo, in a way. 

The hike up was beautiful. The newfallen powder looked like sugar coating on the trees, and in the sunlight, the blowing flakes made multiple colors, like some kind of LSD trip.

We made good time and found ourselves at the top around noon. By then the sun had come out fully. It was all of thirteen degrees, but I didn't feel it, because of all the exertion.

Even the though the rest of the group didn't care, I insisted we go inside the gift shop and the little restaurant at the top. I love that kind of cheesy tourist stuff. I makes me feel like it's 1972 and I'm traveling with my grandparents again. I even bought one of those smashed souvenir pennies there. I have a little collection of them that I began when I left New York seven years ago. It's not an obsession, just something I do whenever I remember to do it.

My favorite part of the day was when we were on our way up and stopped at on overlook looking down at the valley of Clear Creek, right as it comes out of the mountains towards Golden. I took the opportunity to give the group an impromptu five minute presentation on the history of the Colorado Gold Rush, one of my favorite historical topics. 

I took a Toblerone along this week, but I didn't even finish it. Turns out they have awesome peanut butter cups in the gift shop up there, as I had remembered from last summer. One of the great things about hiking is you don't have to worry about eating too much sugar. It's all guilt free.

Afterwards, at Andrew's invitation, we went down to the Old Chicago in Lakewood, where I had two pints of beer and loosened up enough to engage a lengthy fun-spirited debate with Andrew about religion and spirituality.

Ten degrees? Bah!