By that afternoon, the snow had been completely eaten up by the soil, which was when I figured I had enough sunlight to go on one final hike. The weather was perfect: cool, bright, and calm. Unfortunately, a big storm was in the forecast, so I wanted to spend as much time outside as I could before hunkering down. 

For that evening’s hike, I chose to hike up to the crest of the hogback, where I hoped to come across some birds and see the Denver skyline between the two larger eastern hogbacks ahead. As I was following the dried, red trail up to the hogback, I noticed two horses and their riders coming my way. One horse was a chestnut, the other a bay with a white stripe down its face. 

I moved off the trail a bit to let the horses pass by, especially because the chestnut was staring at my camera with a wild look in its eyes. Something about my camera made that young chestnut nervous (perhaps, the camera lens looked like a giant eye to the horse). I held the camera at my side while the horses passed, putting both them and their riders at ease (as well as myself, since I didn’t want to get trampled). 

At the crest of the hogback, I stopped to take in the scenery. The cries of nearby magpies from the gamble oaks, coupled with the long shadows being cast and a stiff breeze hissing through last year’s dried grass were mesmerizing. When looking along the hogback ridge to my north, I could see Red Rocks Amphitheater in the distance. At some point in history, Red Rocks was considered one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The Ute consider Red Rocks (and many other red rock formations along the Front Range) to be a sacred place. But, that evening, it appeared that they were gearing up for yet another shitty concert, because I could see cars packing the parking lots and reflecting the sun back into my eyes. 

I turned my attention back to the hogback, where I estimated I had about an hour of sunlight left before it became completely dark. I wasn’t about to end up alone in the dark with the mountain lions and the bobcats, so I quickly began to descend down the northern edge of the hogback to see the Denver skyline between the final wall of hogbacks directly across from me. But, as I headed deeper onto the shadows of the barren Gambel oaks, the red and white sand below my feet turned to a slick mud, forcing me to turn around. 

Oh well… it was getting cold anyway.