Colorado Mountain Living Outdoor Adventures Romance & Relationships The Rockies: Colorado Mountain Living Outdoor Adventures Romance & Relationships The Rockies
by maribeth
Comments Off on Rafting and Roughing It on the Black Canyon of the Gunnison: Part One
Rafting and Roughing It on the Black Canyon of the Gunnison: Part One
Black Canyon of the Gunnison River
Only a handful of experiences in life—at least ones that occur over a forty-eight hour period—may be considered transformative. The below is one of mine. My journey on the Gunnison River gripped me with so much passion and awe that I’ve chosen to share it with you in its unabbreviated version. I’m posting this story in four parts. I hope you’ll be with me and enjoy it throughout.
I looked in the mirror and dabbed mascara onto my remaining lashes. I peered at myself and sighed about how much grey belied my younger-than-my-years appearance. Oh, what the heck, I thought. I carefully pulled the mascara wand through the patches of grey at my temples and along my hairline right at my part. I knew this was chance-y. Tomorrow I’d be on the river and I’d surely look ghastly with streaks of brownish-black running down the side of my face. Too bad I didn’t have waterproof mascara. Too bad I hadn’t had time to have my hair colored before it got this bad. Too bad I had to pack vanity along with me on a wilderness adventure.
Colorado Crested Butte Mountain Living Outdoor Adventures Restaurants The Rockies: Colorado Crested Butte Mountain Living Outdoor Adventures Restaurants The Rockies
by maribeth
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Testing My Mettle in Crested Butte
Steve and Me Feeling on Top of the World at the Summit of Mount Crested Butte
Sometimes it’s hard being a girly-girl in the Rocky Mountains. No matter how thin, how blond, how tanned, it seems as though these Colorado women are made of tough stuff. Some have their nails done on a regular basis and their hair colored with even greater frequency, but beneath their fresh-as-an-alpine-morning allure, they’re able to keep up with the most competitive men, the super fit guys that think nothing of powering up a stretch of singletrack at nosebleed elevations and then charging down the slope at near breakneck speed. These dudes are typically the husbands, boyfriends and partners of the aforementioned Colorado mountain girls and I’ve come to observe that most everything that the men take on, the women do nearly as well (and in some cases, even better). Their approach might be a tad less aggro but none seem to hesitate much. It’s kind of what’s expected out here.
And then there’s me. My life’s now a far cry from the Parisian Princess posturing I maintained for more than a decade in the French capital. Yes, I even became a ski instructor in an attempt to break out of such a pampered modus operandi. But still, my softness prevails and sometimes it just gets in my way, preventing me from engaging full-on in real mountain activities with the rest of the men and women I encounter here in the West.
This monster of girliness reared its ugly head last weekend during a special gathering of friends in Crested Butte, a mecca of mountain bike riding in America. As much as I’ve had a big passion for road riding in recent years, I’ve done very little mountain bike riding, mostly because I haven’t had my own bike. (O.K., I admit I’ve had a few nervous moments on singletrack when I feared I’d topple off my bike and fall down a cliff.) But I knew one of the main events of the weekend was going to involve a group bike ride, so I packed my chamois-bottomed shorts and cycling jersey and began to psyche myself up for the expedition. When D-day arrived, however, I choked, especially when I heard the ride would traverse some of CB’s most pristine stretches of singletrack, one and a half-foot wide swathes of trails that would normally be the envy of any respectable rider. But I couldn’t help thinking about the wobbling and eventual toppling over that might likely occur out on some precipitous ledge.
