On a short hike in the high country last weekend it was apparent winter is closing in: frozen ground, leaves and grasses brittle, streams and springs rimed with ice. Even at the relatively low elevation of 9,000 feet the thermometer struggled to break 40 degrees at high noon. A harsh north wind blew, shaking the few leaves still hanging on, a death rattle in the forest. The mountains, just a few days ago a riot of glorious color, are now washed to a dull brown while a cap of white begins to accumulate on the highest peaks.
It is only a matter of weeks until we will be skiing these mountains, Ullr willing. In the meantime there are plenty of desert adventures to be had. We wait, some of us not so patiently, while winter bears down.