Lightning rod for athleticism

We took occasion this weekend to journey out central Colorado-side for a spot of camping, hiking, and a bevvy of "energy foods." Arising early on Saturday, we found early obstacles to our progress up Mt. Elbert novel and exciting. Seen here, Carina fords a small watercourse competently and with pep. In a short span of time, we will be anxiously slapping mosquitoes from our arms and legs, our excitement for pesky phenomena like humidity and blood-sucking insects already waning.
Breaking through the treeline at 12,000 feet, you emerge to find yourself practically headbutting clouds. At the same time, each increase in altitude takes a slightly bigger toll on your muscles. Climbing above 13,000 feet is like hiking with ankle weights on. In my case, it's like having a corset of ankle weights strapped to your hulking thighs. Of course, halfway up a mountain is a little late to lose weight from the "trouble spots."

Excess weight and lack of fitness deters very few tourists from hiking 14ers in Colorado, with many a Texan house guest out and up a summit before you can say heart attack. Moreover, as with the high passes of Colorado state roads, which swarm with bulbous campers, boats and ATVs in summer, Coloradans are content to drag just about anything up a mountain, including fatigued spouses, pomeranians and a 9-iron. Not pictured, the Tommy Hilfinger lookalike we spotted on our descent was taking his glamorous facial tan up into the 13,000 foot realm even as a lightning storm raged on the summit. Metal golf club in hand, he assured us that he was most looking forward to "teeing off" from the apex of Mt. Elbert.
On the top, you will find any number of surprising things, including Waldo, recovered at last by the trig point, looking mildly put out by the experience of hiking 4000+ feet before lunch at age 8. We dutifully left our mark in the log, tallying yet another sky-high canine. Shortly after we started the hike down, we were peppered with sego snow; the mountain proving to us its superiority for its own amusement.
Having finished his traditional summit beer, Conklin descended the mountain jauntily, the dizzying height of 14,443 feet and alcohol having had no combined impact on his Aspen constitution
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Back in camp, the festivities began, and nouveau-French pop-jam-reggae band "Black bears don't drink champagne" was born. Concept album out this fall.