I exited the dusty gravel road that leads to Mineral Campground and merged onto the smooth, paved road that would take me to Silverton and thus back to Durango. No more had I begun to gain speed then I had to slow down. Traffic up ahead. Cars stopped on both sides of the road. Some double-parked. Alertly my eyes scanned in all directions. No police car. No emergency vehicles. No herd of deer crossing the road. No bear scratching in the autumn undergrowth. Yet everyone had cameras in hand. It was the 4:00 pm autumnal glow. The sun perched on a westerly peak before making final descent. The aspen trees in various stages of green to orange and the weather perfect, just perfect. The cars – all thirteen – stopping for beauty. Nothing more. 

How infrequently that happens anymore. Oh, I stop. I slow down. I move over for construction. I pull aside for emergency vehicles. I chose a different route to go around clogged traffic. But do I come to a full stop? Interrupt my headlong rush toward deadline – for beauty?

It was, perhaps, the most beautiful hike I had ever taken – and only four days after the outing previously mentioned where traffic was stalled for beauty.  Maybe it was the season. The colors were at their apex in higher elevations and I was again outside Silverton, ravenously hiking leaf strewn trails before the snow flies. Maybe it was the time of day. I dithered around Durango trying to decide my destination until perilously close to noon. So, I found myself on the trail at midday, oooohing and ahhing and hiking a narrow steep trail. Something called Highland Mary. What a beautiful name. Obviously named for some woman like me a hundred years ago. Someone who loved to go a-wandering along a mountain path, someone who liked to sing. Maybe she sang to the sheep – or the cows. I wanted to bubble into spontaneous song, perhaps Loch Lomond, or Lonely Goatherd. A boulder strewn field demanded all my concentration to preserve my ankles and I ceased to sing. Soon thereafter a lake with a small island took my breath away. I followed the path to the next lake and found a flat rock on which to spread my lunch. I dined in silence and in beauty.

Someone asked a seasoned old-timer to name his favorite trail. “The one just taken,” he said. I couldn’t agree more. Returning home, I logged my distance and time for an outdoor challenge I have chosen to participate in. I am usually a faster hiker so I couldn’t help adding the following comment: This hike would take much less time if you didn’t have to stop for pictures so often.

Warning: Hiking may keep you from other social obligations such as social media. Is your love of beauty keeping you in a constant state of peace and contemplation rather than agonizing over the current societal situation? You may be addicted. 

Addicted. And now I see my future. For the next 20 years I am going to chase beauty and truth. And I also know where I am most likely to find it. Nature. Music. Books.