When Mary called to see if I wanted to hike, I was tempted to say no and be a vegetable all day after the week I had at school (Halloween really has a bizarre effect on the mental capabilities of children)…but I knew Ginger would LOVE to frolic through the woods and it would probably make me feel better too. So we planned to hike Seven Bridges this morning.

As we were driving up North Cheyenne Canyon Road past Helen Hunt Falls, we began noticing all the snow. Hmmm, maybe I should have worn my stiff, uncomfortable hiking boots after all. I am a running shoe hiker partly because I’m a casual hiker and partly because I don’t want to spend the money on a good pair of boots. The ones I have are 13 years old and I’ve only worn them a handful of times because they cut into my ankles when going uphill or downhill. When I bought them, I was a naive college graduate freshly hired as a wrangler at an adventure camp and in desperate need of some hiking boots. Obviously I hadn’t done my homework before purchasing. Time for some new ones, I think.

After we parked in the dirt lot at the end of North Cheyenne Road where it intersects Gold Camp Road and High Road, we bundled up (little dogs included) and proceeded through the gate which closes off  Upper Gold Camp Road to motorized vehicles. Today I decided to test Ginger’s skills and let her off leash. She was like a hyper-active Little Red Riding Hood bounding through snow and sniffing poo, but she came when I called her, even around other dogs.

We ran into a group of hikers and asked about the conditions of Seven Bridges. One man glanced at our shoes and said I’d be better off on St. Mary’s Trail. The kid with him said, “Yeah, I fell like five times.” He was wearing running shoes. So, St. Mary’s it was. Something new is always exciting.

I think (we were talking and I forgot to pay attention) Gold Camp curves around to the left after the Seven Bridges trail head and goes past a closed off rail tunnel (it suffered a collapse and a fire). It was about a mile or so to the tunnel. I thought we had taken a trail off of Gold Camp, but I’m pretty sure it just curved around. Side note:  There are numerous stories about this tunnel being haunted by school children who were killed when the tunnel collapsed on their bus, which was returning from a field trip. No evidence has been found to support that this actually happened, so most likely the story is an urban myth created by spooked high schoolers who frequented the area to get drunk and make out. Some believe the tunnel is haunted by rail workers. At the closed off tunnel, a narrow, rocky trail to the left goes up and over it. This is St. Mary’s Falls Trail. Then you can see a view of the city.

A funny (well, scary funny) thing happened just as we were about to put the cameras back in our pockets and move on from the view. We heard someone say, “I seeeee you,” in one of those horror movie, sing-song, creepy voices. Ummm, cut to murder scene in the middle of the woods. We were unable to decipher if the voice was female or male, and since my mind immediately goes to the worst case scenerio, I envisioned a crazed lunatic preying on women hiking alone in the woods. It happens; I watch 20/20 and Dateline enough to know. Then I caught a glimpse of the stranger’s purple hat and neon green coat. No self-respecting crazed lunatic would wear such bright colors. No, it was only a (maybe slightly loony) middle-aged woman talking to her dog.

There’s one point shortly after this view where the trail forks. We erroneously took the left one across the stream, but quickly discovered it led back to Gold Camp Road on the other side of the tunnel. I’ve read that bikers often take this trail to connect back to Gold Camp Road. We happened to spot the “I seeeee you” lady on the upper trail so we backtracked and went to the right, a safe distance behind her…just in case.

The trail follows a rushing, clear stream (Buffalo Creek) pretty much the whole way. The grey sky was full of the promise of snow, which always make me feel cozy when I’m bundled up and walking in the woods. Soon, a few ghostly flakes began to fall. The neon green cloaked woman must have turned around well before reaching the falls because she suddenly appeared in front of us, harmlessly sweet talking our dogs now. Sigh of relief.

The trail was snow packed in the shadows of the trees, but not too slick, even in my running shoes. There’s another part where the trail forks, but I think either way connects back to the main trail. We went left. Eventually the trail opens up to a snow-covered scree slope. Flakes were lightly falling.

Mary wanted to find walking sticks for the trek down and had been keeping her eye out. All of a sudden, she said in a low voice, “Do you see what I see?” I panicked for a moment, scanning the trees below for a bear or mountain lion, poised to snatch up my little dog before she could be eaten by a wild animal trying to fatten itself up for winter. Again with the worst case scenerio. “See what?” I asked. She hesitated. Speak, woman, speak, so I know how to react! Alas, she was only pointing out two sticks, each the proper height and thickness for a walking support. However, she had to scale down a scree slope to get them. “This is exactly what that guy on I Shouldn’t Be Alive was doing when he fell,” she said casually as her boots slid down towards the elusive sticks. She safely retrieved them and we left them at the side of the trail to pick up later.

The trail is quite a climb in some parts. According to the sign at the beginning of the trail, it’s 1.6 miles one way. Finally we reached another sign that claimed the falls were .2 miles further. This is where the real climbing begins. There’s a sharp switchback marked with some rocks and a fallen log. Soon after is a sign that says the base of the falls is 500 feet.  I’m sure it’s spectacular in the spring and summer, but most of it was snow covered and frozen. You can barely make out the cascading frigid water. There are some steps that climb up along the falls, but it was too snowy and icy to even attempt traversing up them.

Then the clouds really began to threaten. Mary wanted a winter scene photo with her dogs to send in her Christmas cards. This was the perfect spot for that.

There were interesting rock formations that I didn’t notice until our decent because I had been so focused on our climb. That, and Mary had stopped to pee behind one of the rocks, so I had time to look around.

Right after the rocks, we met a “real” hiker making the last bit of ascent. He wore YakTrax (traction devices designed to slip over the soles of your shoes) and sported two REAL walking sticks that he didn’t have to nearly kill himself to get. We said hello but he couldn’t hear us for the headphones jammed into his ears. I will never understand why people go hiking (or biking, or running, or whatever) in nature and choose to assault their eardrums while doing so. It’s dangerous and detracts from the peaceful beauty (in my opinion). Mary said he’s one of those guys that will get gobbled up by a mountain lion because he won’t hear it approaching.

The best part of this hike was when snow began falling heavy and thick. It was a winter wonderland.

It took us about 3 hours total from the parking lot and back (most likely between 5 and 6 miles).We only encountered the two hikers I mentioned on St. Mary’s Trail. There were a lot more on Gold Camp Road, probably headed to the slippery slope that was Seven Bridges. I hope they had their YakTrax on! Ginger was such a good dog off leash (except when she spontaneously started to pester Mary’s little dog Cassie…a few times on the leash cured that problem). She came every time I called her and even bypassed some barking dogs and a bicycle she wanted to chase. She was in doggy heaven darting along the trail. I had a pretty good time too!

Meet Ginger.

She is a 10 month old (approximately) Chihuahua (and something else?) we adopted from the Humane Society the Friday before Labor Day. This started as an obsession with Pomeranians. While thumbing through the pages of People magazine, I saw a photo of the teddy bear look-alike dog named Boo (Google him, you’ll understand once you see how cute he is).

Apprehensively, I began to consider getting a dog again. My husband owned a Boxer and I owned a Lab before we met. Marriage made one dog become two, which required ten times the energy and patience. Eventually, after realizing we did not have what it takes to provide what two large dogs need, we re-homed them with some friends who have lots of land. It was a heartbreaking decision, but we knew it was best for Marvin and Charlotte. Unfortunately, both of them passed away recently, something that put dogs back in my subconscious.

At first, we felt guilty considering another dog…like we were betraying our other dogs. After serious discussions we decided to pursue the idea. After all, it would be one dog and a small one at that. I scoured the internet for Pomeranians–Humane Society (none), Mill Dog Rescue (lots–but with behavioral issues), various other rescues (didn’t respond to my correspondence). I was fixated on getting a teddy bear dog.

One evening while I was at the barn visiting Gioia, my husband called to say the Humane Society had a very cute Brussels Griffon. I was sort of open to other kinds of dogs so I met him there to look. By the time we got there, it had already been adopted. We planned to look at a couple of others, but after hearing about their temperament, we declined. The lady helping us was so kind that she decided to let us look at a dog even though it was past the time allowed. Hurriedly, we scanned the desperate faces peering back at us through their wire kennels.

Then we saw her (apparently, my husband had seen her during our first round…I was too busy looking for the Brussels Griffon). Her card said Chihuahua (a breed I had NEVER considered) but she didn’t quite look like a Chi. Her little fox face was so sweet. They told us she had been picked up as a stray, was very loving, a lap dog, and would make a great walking partner. Perfect! The moment she entered the visiting room she ran straight to my husband and began licking his hands. We both held her and instantly loved her.

But I wasn’t sure. I have SIGNIFICANT trouble making decisions, and this one seemed huge. We were nearing the desk when I began feeling panic. I wanted her, but wasn’t sure about 5 am daily walks, cost involved, house training, etc., etc., etc. In the end, my emotions won over (even though I felt as if I were going to throw up during the adoption process). Once we got her home, however, I knew we had made the right decision. It turns out SOMEBODY had house trained this dog. And leash trained her. And used a crate with her. How lucky did we get? It turns out I actually enjoy getting up early to walk her. And taking her on hikes, which brings me to today.

I love fall. With a passion. The crisp air, the bright sun, pumpkins, caramel apples, and especially leaves. I was desperate for some gold aspen leaves this weekend. I decided on the Crags since it is off Highway 67 on the way to Cripple Creek, one of the best fall drives in this area. Almost immediately after pulling off on the ridiculously bumpy dirt road, I saw two deer bounding across my path. I think the second one was a fawn of the first one. It stopped to look at me and I snapped this shot (the last one before the card was full!)

My memory card was not the only thing that was full. The lot was like a Walmart on Saturday. I barely squeezed the truck behind a car on the side of the road near the trail head.

There are restrooms at the trail head which is near a stream. After crossing the bridge, the trail inclines for a while.

Lone Aspen.

Depressed Aspen.

It began to rain a bit. The sun was shining through the clouds. Here is where the trail flattens out and becomes very enjoyable. Lots of bright aspens, copper-colored rock formations, and golden meadows.

It was somewhere in here where I crossed paths with a strange young man (in my paranoid mind, anyway). He was calling to someone or a dog in the trees. Finally, I heard him say, “There you are.” Another man appeared out of the trees. Then they switched directions and began following me. Here’s where I began to get nervous. I don’t like two strange men following me. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe they were stalking me, waiting for the right moment to pounce and drag me and my little dog into the woods. I chose to believe the latter, of course. I began walking more quickly, frequently glancing behind me to gauge the distance between us. I even started to plan my escape: I would wait until I crossed paths with some safe looking people and turn around right behind them. Safety in numbers, right? My paranoia was ruining this beautiful hike. I hadn’t planned on doing the whole thing anyway, since ominous clouds kept thundering overhead. I didn’t want to be caught in a storm AND be chased by two evil men. That would be doubly awful. Safe person after safe person passed and I still kept going. It was just too pretty and I wanted to keep going, whether it resulted in murder or not.

When I reached this rock, I finally turned around. I hadn’t seen the two men in a while so I had become lax with my escape plan. Plus, the thunder was increasing and I did NOT want to get stuck in a storm with a tiny dog. On the way back, I saw the two men again, in roughly the same spot I had first encountered them. What had they been doing all this time?They were standing on a hillside, looking suspicious. Other hikers were nearby, so I just kept my eye on them and sped up. I swear they watched me closely as I disappeared in the distance. I’m convinced they were up to something and knew I was on to them. Or they were wondering why this crazy woman was giving them the stink eye for no reason.

Anyway, the next time I will not go alone. I would like to do the whole thing without being in a state of hyper alert. Reportedly the views are great.

These are pictures I captured on the way back.

This was on the drive back down to Highway 67.

Since I was already so close, I decided to drive towards Cripple Creek to peep at some leaves. A steady stream of traffic trickled up the twining road. It started to rain just as I was getting these shots on the side of the road.

It was an ideal day for hiking. Cool temperatures, slightly overcast, beautiful fall color, and a little rain shower to make the drive back cozy ( a little dog sleeping in my lap helped, too 🙂 ).

I’m cheating a little. Earlier this month, the husband and I did this hike and I diligently brought the camera for the purpose of blogging about the trail. However…I must have been feeling a little lazy with the looming prospect of school starting so I never wrote a post about it. In fact, the SD card has been trapped in the computer for weeks, lonely and forgotten. Knowing I had already snapped plenty of pictures along this trail, I didn’t bring the camera today…and we saw animals. No camera and animals. Of course. I did have my phone, which takes crappy pictures, but that’s how my luck has been lately. At least you’ll get to see the animals. I love hikes that involve creature sightings. So today’s post will actually feature pictures from the trail we hiked today, just from a few weeks ago…plus some phone pics of critters from today. Confused yet?

Back to my luck. It will relate to this hike, just wait. The first day back to school, before I had even been exposed to kid germs, I woke up with a sore throat. The next day it was worse. I got a rapid strep test. Nothing. At least with strep they can give you drugs to kick it fast. Nope. This was a good, old-fashioned, chicken noodle soup, up all night cold. To make matters worse, I used a neti pot with TAP water a few days into my misery. What’s the big deal with that? The very next day I read an article about a young man from Louisiana who had DIED from using TAP water in a NETI pot. Brain eating amoeba (they really exist) somehow infiltrated his home’s water system and swam their way to his brain thanks to his seemingly harmless neti pot. The article stated that this is an EXTREMELY rare and isolated case but I was certain I was destined to be the next victim to succumb to a neti pot harboring killer amoeba infected tap water. That’s how irrationally my mind works (and it’s not even infected with amoeba). For days, I fretted about this. My husband was very patient. I expected the headache and nausea to begin at any moment. The only headache I got was caused by my incessant coughing several nights later when the cold moved into my lungs. I wanted to call in sick, but it was our first day switching classes for reading and sub plans take me hours. Then we had Open House the following night.

The reason I mention all this is because, obviously, this weekend I’m feeling a bit run down. That’s why we hiked Coyote Run. It’s only a little over a mile long. Perfect for a sickly teacher looking for some time outdoors after two weeks stuck inside a school building. The trail head is conveniently located at the Visitor Center. And it’s a loop, my favorite kind of trail. There are also several signs offering a wealth of information about coyotes, prairie dogs, mule deer, mountain lions, etc.

The beginning of the trail is surrounded by some scattered rocks and boulders.

Then it curves around and provides a nice overlook…

and winds through some trees.

Somewhere along here we could see a group of deer traveling from an open space to the cover of some scrub oak in the distance. When we neared the spot where the trail crosses the road, we came upon them. They were not frightened of us at all. Curious best describes their demeanor. They were so CLOSE to the trail and just watched us with pricked ears. I apologize for the poor quality. Cell phone pictures at their worst. I should have listened to the husband when he wanted to get the more expensive phones.

Shortly after, we saw a lizard sunning itself on a boulder. Geez, I wish I had brought the camera. Although I probably would have forgotten that the card was in the computer and been in the same predicament.

Now for more boulder pictures.

One of the signs explained that the bark of Ponderosa Pines smells faintly of vanilla. I smelled it. It does.

And that’s it!  A short post for a short hike!  My final two cents:  I LOVE Cheyenne Mountain State Park!  It’s so quiet and UNcrowded. Coyote Run is a short, fairly flat trail that’s EASY to hike, which is mandatory when you’re recovering from a nasty cold.