shrine ridge trail, colorado

The Google proved a better advisor than Mr. Bad News at Vail, bringing us to the Shrine Ridge Trail, east of Vail. Our car climbed steadily up a 2- mile bumpy chalk and red clay road, reaching a parking lot that had plenty of spaces, with folks just arriving and others leaving. There was a strong breeze and as often up in these mountain regions, mean looking clouds lurking about.

Now, I may have underplayed the altitude sickness I got after our first rookie hike, but let me tell you I was sick as a dog (why a dog? are they sick a lot?); headache, dizzy, light and sound sensitive and with nausea bad enough that I didn't want to eat, which has happened never before, not even when i delivered my beautiful child. But there was no way I was going to pass up a hike known for its views and August wildflowers, even if the summit was 11,800 feet. I just needed to figure out how to get to the top and be well enough to drive back to Denver for our redeye.

It turns out the answer is to walk so slowly that you get passed by ants. I shuffled along, barely lifting my feet, stopping way too many times to take photographs of flowers, including blue bells, lady slippers, daisies, delphiniums (yes!), lupines and some unidentified bright red and bluey purple flowers. After a while, I realized that even bending down to take a photograph was exhausting. The Mountain Goat laughed at my lack of speed, listen below. No respect for their elders, these kids.

It was a giggly delirium that set in, harkening back to the gentle times at that Babson Alpha Kappa Frat party  where I tried whippets. Squeaky voice and loopy mind. On we went, enjoying every minute in our own weird way. At one point, I came to a rock, and didn't know if I had the strength to go around it or over it. That made us laugh, which only made me weaker. Occasionally, people would come in the opposite direction and I'd make like I was fine and walk faster, then need to take a break to recover. Egos are really dumb sometimes... But I was worried they'd think there was something very wrong with me and call the paramedics. 

But there's nothing wrong with walking slowly when it's a beautiful day and the scenery is unlike anything you've ever seen before. Copper Mountain straight ahead and plenty of others in every direction, some with ski slopes, others just quietly judging us, maybe even snickering. We hung at the summit for a bit, then did some math and realized we needed to get a move on if we were going to go to jam dinner in Boulder in, which in retrospect, wasn't worth it.

Yet another trip for the books with my most favorite travel companion. Takeaway? That 2-5 days recommended for altitude acclimatization really should be observed for this old body.