The mission of Support Local GJ Initiative is all about helping local businesses thrive and succeed. Our story begins in 2020, when many businesses were struggling due to the pandemic. For many small businesses especially, it was the first time they heavily relied on digital marketing and sales, to keep their businesses alive. During that time, we launched a “Support Local Business” Facebook page for our hometown of Grand Junction, CO. We provided an informative platform for businesses to promote themselves, by interviewing dozens of local businesses, and creating an online community so that businesses could share products, services, and updates.
Three years later, as the group only continues to grow in size, as well as in interest in the initiative, we’ve expanded in other areas. Just as before, we’re still here to help local businesses not just survive but thrive. So we’ve moved the platform to our website to best serve the community, by offering live interviews and sponsorships to promote your business. For more information, visit the Support Local Business webpage.
Support Local Business Grand Junction Facebook Page
Businesses local to Grand Junction are encouraged to promote themselves on this page, as well as to help the group with whatever relevant content they have for the benefit of other local businesses and business owners. There are a lot of those sort of groups. What will make this one different is that we plan to have regular posts/ education/ help/ interviews from local business owners.
Support Local Business Grand Junction Newsletter
The Support Local Business Grand Junction newsletter is a source that promotes local businesses and the Grand Valley Community via live interviews, local happenings, fun facts about GJ, and more. Our is audience is you, the local community. And this newsletter is truly a celebration of this community, of the things that make Grand Junction unique, namely the people and businesses who make the “West Slope, Best Slope.”
Contact Third Loft Marketing: Your Local Marketing Company
“The Queen died peacefully at Balmoral this afternoon.” –Official announcement of the British Sovereign’s death, 8th September 2022
Anyone who knows me well is aware of my love for my British heritage, as my paternal grandparents are from London, and their son (my father) was born there. In particular, I love British royal history, and as a child, I especially loved the first Queen Elizabeth I. So naturally, I loved her descendent, Queen Elizabeth II (as these 2002 journal entries from 9-year-old me show).
So, I am quite sad with today’s news of the Queen’s passing at the age of 96. She reigned 70 years, the longest of any UK monarch. Just as I am fascinated with the Tudor Elizabethan age, I am honored to say that I lived in a second Elizabethan age. RECQUISCAT EN PACE ELIZABETH REGINA. A monarch who embodied British stoicism, duty, honor, and integrity: a class act. So the world loses another of the greatest generation… :’(
Did you know that Western Colorado has its own version of Balanced Rock?
Like the famous Balanced Rock of the Front Range (located in Garden of the Gods), Miracle Rock, aka Potato Rock, is another large boulder with an incredibly small pedestal. However, unlike Balanced Rock, Miracle Rock is far less well known, far more remote, and is even taller.
L: Miracle Rock, near Glade Park (my photo.) R: Balanced Rock in Garden of the Gods (photo from Uncover Colorado.com)
Located southwest of Grand Junction, outside the tiny community of Glade Park, Miracle Rock is tucked away from civilization. The area is a popular local spot for field trips and picnics.
Located just a mile off 9.8 Road, the Miracle Rock Trailhead consists of a dirt lot, several picnic benches, and a vault toilet. The hike up to the rock is short, about 1-mile roundtrip. The route is initially hard to distinguish, as there is no signage. During my visit, I made my way down the middle between the picnic tables and past pinyon and juniper trees for a few yards. The trail then becomes easily visible and continues up a short but steep slope.
The so-called “potato” is perched on a ridge with a commanding view of the Little Dolores River Valley. While not as vivid a red as Balanced Rock, Miracle Rock is twice as tall as its Front Range cousin, rising 85 feet above its base. Weighing 12,000 tons, the rock is truly a miracle, perched on a sandstone base only 1 ft. wide. To make the situation more precarious, a solid crack runs the entire length of the pedestal. There is even a gap where you can see all the way through.
Miracle Rock appears ready to topple at any moment. However, as my fingers traced the many inscriptions on the rock, the monolith didn’t budge a bit.
Graffito or inscriptions? The oldest I found dated from 1928.
Just a few yards southeast of the boulder the ridgeline further continues. Located along the cliffside are beautiful alcoves.
Returning to Miracle Rock, I sat near the edge of the ridge and soaked in the solitude. The peaceful atmosphere up there is a great place to read a book, sketch, paint, or photograph the natural surroundings. As I visited later in the day, I watched the sun set as I returned to the trailhead.
I was the only individual up there my entire visit. Can’t say the same of Balanced Rock, which is a tourist attraction. If you’re looking for a short, quiet trek, visit Miracle Rock! I highly suggest going up there to watch the sunset, as I did. For more adventure, Little Dolores Falls is just 1.3 miles further down the road. Featuring natural swimming pools or “potholes,” this is a popular local spot to cool off in the summer. Caution: avoid the water during the spring or during thunderstorms as several fatalities have occurred due to strong currents. The next time I visit the area, I’ll visit Potholes and blog about it. 🙂
Map from Exploring Grand Junction: A Recreational Guide to West-Central Colorado by Glen D. Weaver
Getting There: To get to Miracle Rock Trailhead, drive up to Glade Park, which is located 16 miles southwest from Grand Junction. Glade Park can be reached by taking either Little Park Road, or Colorado National Monument’s Rim Rock Drive via the park’s east entrance. From Glade Park Store continue west on DS Road for 8 miles, then turn left onto 9.8 road. Continue for 1 mile and park at the trailhead.
Looking for a hike that’s easily accessible and with incredible desert scenery? Lower Monument Canyon-Wedding Canyon Loop is just such a trek.
Located within Colorado National Monument just south of Grand Junction, Monument Canyon is home to Independence Monument, a tall monolith located at the end of Monument Canyon and Wedding Canyon.
Unlike other Colorado National Monument Trails that are accessible via Rim Rock Drive, you can access Lower Monument Trail and Wedding Canyon without being charged the park fee. Situated at the base of CNM, the Lower Monument Canyon Trail and Wedding Canyon trailhead is just off Broadway (HWY 340) and consists of a dirt parking lot, with two porta potties.
For my trek, I began with Lower Monument Canyon trail. The route begins in desert scrubland, winding up and past a Redlands subdivision, following the “buffalo fence.” Back in 1925, bison were introduced to the park, hence the fence. Bison are non-native to the high desert, so the National Park Service continuously provided hay and water for the creatures for the next six decades. In 1983, the remaining herd was finally relocated to Badlands National Park.
At .7 miles, the trail turns southward, revealing Monument Canyon and Independence Monument itself. You’ll come across a park register in a metal box, with hikers sporadically signing in.
Hewn into the red rock, the trail is well-marked and easy to follow as it gradually ascends. The canyon wall soars up immediately to your right. In several areas, there are stone steps carefully placed, but no real scrambling or path finding is involved.
As you hike, keep an eye out for desert bighorn. The area possesses several herds, and it’s a common sight to see several or more bighorn keeping a wary eye on adventurers from the cliff walls above.
The entire trek presents spectacular views, with sheer cliff faces and spires surrounding the trail. Turning around to face the mouth of the canyon, you’re rewarded with views of Grand Mesa (the world’s largest flat-topped mountain) in the east, while the town of Grand Junction sits in the Grand Valley below. Framed by the cliffs, this sight is a unique juxtaposition of nature and civilization.
As you further ascend the trail, Independence Monument grows in size, appearing taller than its actual 450 ft. height. The reason for this is the monolith itself is perched on a red dirt hill. Several unofficial trails thread around the base of the rock.
A unique fact about Independence Monument is every 4th of July rock climbers scale the monolith and place a US flag at the top. John Otto, founder of CNM, was the first person to climb the rock, and built many of CNM’s trails himself, including Monument Canyon.
At this point, after soaking in the beauty and solitude of the area, you have several options: you can turn around to make for an out and back trek, hike Upper Monument trail all the way up to Rim Rock Drive, or continue into Wedding Canyon.
Upper Monument Canyon Trail skirts south along the base of spires and cliffs, offering different perspectives on Independence Monument and surroundings rock formations, such as Pipe Organ and Coke Ovens. I have yet to hike the rest of this portion, but have heard it’s a beautiful, steep route. Note: The route of Lower and Upper Monument Canyon trail is about 6 miles; roundtrip is 12 miles. If you want to hike the one-way route of 6 miles, arrange to have a car to shuttle you back to wherever you start. Locals recommend starting at Upper Monument and hiking down into Lower Monument.
Regarding Wedding Canyon, this trail branches off north from Monument Trail, at the base of the monolith. Descending into Wedding Canyon, this trail is so named as John Otto married Beatrice Farnham here in 1911.
Hiking with friends is the best!Your Read Run Writer second from left. 🙂Photo courtesy of Andrew K.
Unlike the grippy rock surfaces of Lower Independence Monument trail, the upper portion of Wedding Canyon Trail is “unimproved,” per the trailhead sign. This means the trail is mostly dirt and sand, and steeper. Even with my Salomon Speed Cross trail shoes with their prominent tread, I still felt some slippage underfoot. This is why it is usually recommended that if you’re hiking Lower Monument Canyon-Wedding Canyon loop, you start by ascending Wedding Canyon first. However, should you hike the route vice-versa, as I have several times, trekking poles are especially helpful in descending Wedding Canyon. While the trail may be slick underfoot, the route is well marked throughout, with no trail finding involved.
The trail winds down and rounds the canyon’s edge before you return to the flatter base of CNM. There’s a few short hills on the way back as the trail meanders back to the Lower Monument Canyon trailhead.
Easy to get to with spectacular views, I highly recommend Lower Monument and Wedding Canyon trails. Popular with locals, this route is rarely crowded, even when the parking lot is full. Spring, fall, and winter are the best times to hike this loop. If you choose to hike during the summer, do so in the morning or evening, and bring plenty of water. Soak in the surroundings, and marvel at this corner of Colorado’s canyon country. With just enough imagination, you may be able to picture the bison that once roamed along the desert sands. 🙂
~LMC
Courtesy ofColorado National Monument Facebook page
Bootsie “Boots” the Bratty Cat: October 15, 2003–August 21, 2021
Happy BOOTSday, Bootsie! Remembering Da Brat, Bratty, Brat Cat, Boots: missing you lots today on your first birthday without you. I’ve known you for practically your entire life: from when you were a two-month-old kitten, to the sassy senior kitty just two months shy of 18. We quite literally grew up together, as I was in 6th grade when Dad brought you home for Christmas. I remember the endless energy you had as a kitten, as I dragged around boxes with you in tow, and the time you surprised Mom by clawing your way up along her overalls as she washed dishes, a Spiderman kitty, haha!
You had a definite personality as we all knew what you loved: warm laundry, sunbathing, time spent in the backyard, your domain as Wild Mountain Boots! You claimed my favorite stuffed animal, Baldy the Bald Eagle, as yours, and loved playing with the catnip mouse I sewed just for you. You had by far the softest, cleanest fur of any cat, or animal, I’ve ever known. You loved to cuddle (on your terms), but you were always there for me.
During quarantine last year, you were super clingy and cuddly, a feline pillow. I’ll forever miss you coming into my room for afternoon cuddles in the sun. Dad: Thank you so much for bringing Boots into our lives, I really did experience the whole lifecycle of a cat! Boots the kitten was FUN. 🙂 Mom: we all know who Bootsie’s real Mom is. You doted on her, and she loved you somuch in return.
Rest easy, Boots. Don’t be too bratty in Heaven, hehe. Tell Sabre and Flash I say hi. Love on ya!
40 years ago today—19 January 1981—a young woman, a talented American photographer, died. She was just 22 years old.
Self portrait.
Francesca Woodman was her name. In her short life, she had produced a collection of more than 800 photographs, each one individually unique, yet collectively they bear a distinctive, unifying aesthetic:
Self-deceit, Rome, Italy, 1978.House #3 Providence, Rhode Island (1976).Untitled, New York, 1979-80.
Dreamlike, whimsical, dark, just out of reach: Woodman’s photographs display a sense of self, as often she herself stood in as the subject, citing the “convenience” of having herself be the model. Her work is ethereal, as objects blur and move due to long exposure, while the lighting is soft and subtle. The daughter of artist parents, Francesca’s father gave his daughter her first camera, a 2.25-inch-by-2.25-inch Yashica, that she would use for most of her career. Taking her first self portrait at 13, it marked the beginning of a unique, and painful, journey.
Untitled, Rome, 1977-78.
I first came across Woodman’s work on Instagram last summer. I was immediately intrigued by the black and white images, undeniably creative in the poses, subjects, and expressions captured. They are such a stark contrast to the aesthetic offered on “Insta,” of near neon colored images with impossibly perfect subjects, with no flaws—or soul for that matter—to be found. Clearly, Woodman’s photographs were taken and developed before the digital age.
Rare color self portrait, circa 1979.
Accompanied with the images was this self portrait (above) of the very photographer, Francesca Woodman. Judging from the clothes, hair and type of camera pictured, I assumed Woodman was a photographer from the 1950s. Her aesthetic was yester-decade, not at all contemporary, but in a cool and natural way. When I came across this other self portrait, however, I had a sudden sense of foreboding.
Self portrait, circa 1977.
She looks so…melancholy. Without having to look right away, I felt that her career—and life—had been short. I was already surprised that the majority of her work was taken in the 1970s, not the 50s; her aesthetic was already “retro” during the disco age. But I noted that the dates of the images I saw, never went any further. It was if the photographs—and the artist—simply stopped. I did some more research, and my forebodings were confirmed: Francesca committed suicide that January day, 40 years ago.
From Angel series, Rome, Italy, 1977.
Knowing this, it’s all the more tempting to truly dive into her work, looking for clues that explain the why of what she did. For example, many of the photographs display the female form, nude, but not in a sexual or graphic way; many proponents claim Woodman’s art as feminist, as a “taking back” of the female form as when captured on film by a woman. However, Woodman herself never explicitly identified herself, or her work, as feminist. Many other images consist of the subject, usually Woodman, with her face and/ or body partially or completely obscured. Here, it’s easy to conclude that such images refer to a loss of identity.
Space 2, 1976.
Ask an art critic of what they make of Woodman’s images, and I’m sure you’ll get in-depth analyses. I’m still new to Woodman’s work, but regardless there’s a mastery in the creative genius the girl had. Its clear she had a passion for photography, yes, but more so for the aesthetic she captured on film. Her dedication to her craft was clearly there. So why did she end her life?
Untitled, 1980.
Like me, Francesca was born and raised in Colorado. She spent her formative years primarily in Boulder, where her parents worked as professors at CU. She spent summers in Florence, Italy, a place where her artistic aspirations thrived, as she was surrounded by museums. She took photography while at boarding school in Massachusetts, and in 1975 began attending Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), quite confident in her artistic abilities. As she further added to her portfolio, she remained determined to make her mark, specifically in becoming a fashion photographer. She thrived in school, but by the time she graduated, photography was not in vogue.
Moving to New York City, Francesca worked tirelessly in promoting her work and skills as a photographer, but met little success. Colleagues describe her as being needy and intense in nature, utterly dedicated to her craft but just as fragile in emotion. Acquaintances also cite Francesca’s desire to outshine the art accomplishments of her parents. Despite sending her portfolio to numerous companies and agencies, nothing came to fruition; others cited her work as too avant-garde. The first break came fall 1980, when Francesca attempted suicide for the first time. Family and friends did their best to monitor her, but her depression remained.
Eel Series, 1977-78.
When Francesca learned that her application for funding from the National Endowment of Arts was rejected, it appears that this was the final straw. Already dealing with the aftermath of a failed relationship, Francesca was in crisis. She made her final journal entry, then made her way to a nearby building in New York’s Lower East Side, and jumped from a window.
Untitled, 1979-80.
At her death, Francesca’s work was unknown. However, in the years and decades following, her work has, finally, garnered much attention and critical praise. Since 1985, there have been several solo exhibitions of her work, the latest having been 2019-2020’s Francesca Woodman: Portrait of a Reputation held at Denver’s Museum of Modern Contemporary Art (how I wish I’d attended)! There are also several books showcasing her photographs and notebooks, as well as a full length documentary, The Woodmans, released on the 30th anniversary of her death, in January 2011.
Book by Drew Sawyer and Nora Abrams, 2019.
I can’t help but wonder what Francesca, had she lived, would have made of social media, especially Instagram. Would she scoff at the “selfies” made by Milennials and Zoomers, citing them as uninspired, due to how easy it is to snap pics with a SmartPhone? How would she perceive SmartPhones as a device for taking photos? Are such devices blasphemous to photography? Or would she embrace all these changes, and perhaps envy Instagram, silently cursing for it not having existed when she was young, as it would’ve provided her with a more concrete platform for her work? Just as it so tempting, and easy, to analyze Francesca’s photography via the lens of her tragic death, so it is with asking these hypothetical questions. But one thing remains constant: Francesca’s conviction of her role as an artist, as she wrote, “I was (am?) not unique but special. This is why I was an artist…I was inventing a language for people to see the everyday things that I also see…and show them something different.” And that “something different” is what draws people to her photographs, as they “contrast to the cool slickness of the digital,” while embracing “tactility and decay in a very sensual and seductive way,” remarks Corey Keller, a curator of photography at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. I couldn’t agree more. Francesca took photographs the old fashioned way, and combined with her artistic vision, made her images forever timeless—and forever haunting.
~LMC
*Note: All images are by Francesca Woodman unless where otherwise noted.
On this day five years ago, much beloved singer-songwriter David Bowie passed away.
One of several promo pics for Blackstar, taken by Jimmy King.
One of things that people quickly learn about me—aside from me being an avid runner, outdoor enthusiast, horse and cat lover—is that I love David Bowie. My entire life I’ve been listening to his music. Several of my earliest memories are Bowie themed: toddler me watching David Bowie music videos on VHS; my Dad, himself a talented singer, playing “Space Oddity” on his acoustic guitar; my Dad and I eagerly awaiting and then listening to the latest Bowie albums released when I was a kid (Earthling, Hours…, Heathen, etc).
Bowie collage! This was a birthday gift for my Dad; I helped my Mom select and arrange the memorabilia. HUGE thank you to family friend Debbie for putting this together! 🙂
So, it was a shock, to say the least, when the news broke that Bowie had died; he’d never let slip that he’d been battling liver cancer for the past 18 months. Only his immediate family and a special few were aware. When it was announced on his official Facebook page that “David Bowie died peacefully today” the world was caught completely unawares. I remember that day quite clearly. I’d just arrived back home, after a drive of several hours. It was evening, I was tired, and I soon fell asleep on the couch. And I then had the most vivid vision: I was in a grayish-white room, and before me stood an upright hexagonal coffin. There was a small window over the face of the deceased. And the face was male, and I just knew I had a connection to this individual. I suddenly felt so frightened and disturbed that my breathing seized, and I awoke with a start. I was quite spooked, and perplexed: why did I see such an image?
Bowie as Button Eyes, in the “Blackstar” music video, 2015.
I was unable to sleep that night, so I stayed up scrolling through Facebook, when I saw that my friend (who is the ultimate country music lover) had posted, “RIP David Bowie.” What? I dismissed it as a hoax. Celebrities are constantly dodged by fake death announcements. But I had to check. I searched the web, and my doubt soon turned into shock. I literally stared at the wall, uncomprehending. Bowie was dead? But heroes don’t die. And your heroes especially, they never die. Right?
The official announcement.
The vision/ dream/ nightmare/ mere coincidence, call it what you may, slammed back into my consciousness. And it was then the tears started. I stayed up for another hour, feeling drained. Yes, I did not personally know the man. But what really hurt me was to think of Bowie’s daughter, Lexi, had just lost her father. She was just 15 then, much too young for any child to lose a parent. 🙁 Lexi, sending you a big hug.
Lexi and David; she posted this on her Instagram as a tribute on her father’s 74th birthday.
Bowie Beginnings
My Dad is the one who introduced me to David Bowie. He’s been listening to Bowie since the 70’s, when he first discovered Young Americans album while on a trip to England; he attended 10 Bowie concerts over the decades, and has dozens of Bowie vinyls and CDs. To be clear, he never forced me to listen to or like Bowie. He provided me the exposure, yes, but my fascination with Major Tom was natural, organic; I just grew up him hearing him and was completely fascinated by his many transformations, with music styles, characters, and appearance. His vocals, lyricism, his stage presence, are just mesmerizing. He was born to perform.
2004 Reality Tour poster in my room.
My Dad and I have always been close. So when I first thought of Lexi losing her father, it hurt me. I’m sure she was close to him. To her, he wasn’t David Bowie; he was her Dad. Bowie the man may be gone; but his legacy, his music lives on forever. Lives end, but legends live on forever. I hope that, in some small sense, this provides comfort to Lexi and Iman, Bowie’s wife.
I got this shirt when I was in middle school, now have it proudly displayed. 🙂
The day after his death, my Dad and I had a somber conversation on the phone, just reminiscing on our favorite albums and memories. My Grandma Brenda, my Dad’s mom, even emailed me to express her sympathy, writing that she herself enjoyed several of his songs. I then began re-listening to several albums of his, namely 1976’s Station to Station, and just, wow. His vocals are just so incredible, and playing the album was quite cathartic. It would be a little while, however, before I could give Blackstar a proper listen. When I finally did, it was quite the experience. Tony Visconti, who produced several Bowie albums, says it best: “He always did what he wanted to do. And he wanted to do it his way and he wanted to do it the best way. His death was no different from his life—a work of art. He made Blackstar for us, his parting gift. I knew for a year this was the way it would be.”
One of my all time favorite Bowie tracks. 🙂
Five YearsOn
I’m still incredulous that it’s already been five years since David has passed. Five years…any Bowie fan knows the significance of this number, as one of Bowie’s earliest songs is “Five Years.” Released in 1972, the song relays the story of Earth only having five years left, and individuals’ various reactions upon learning the news. After the initial shock of learning about his death, in other ways I was not at all surprised, when it came to how Bowie handled his failing health and imminent demise. Knowing Bowie and his mystique, it didn’t surprise me that he never divulged his cancer diagnosis to the public. For a man who had a 50+ year career in the spotlight, he was in so many ways very private. By keeping his diagnosis known to those only closest to him, he was able to enjoy the final 18 months of life with privacy, all while writing and recording Blackstar, his final album. Released on January 8, his birthday—and two days before his death—the whole record is clearly his swan song. “Look up here man / I’m in heaven,” are the opening lyrics to the single “Lazarus.”
Blackstar album cover art.
The stunning fact that Bowie’s diagnosis was never leaked until he finally succumbed, I think speaks volumes about the respect and awe people had, and continue to have, for him. For his whole career, he was constantly reinventing himself in terms of music styles, alter egos, and fashion, always ahead of the curve. It really warms my soul in knowing that Bowie’s career was so long that it spanned and influenced several generations. For example, my Dad clearly remembers purchasing Bowie vinyls as both a high school and college student in the late 70’s and early 80’s; Bowie was still releasing music when I was both in and out of college, in 2013 and 2016, respectively.
My folks and I attended “Celebrating David Bowie” at Denver’s Paramount Theatre, February 2018. Here my Dad and I pose with Bowie’s pic at Paramount Cafe.Bowie parents! Mom and Dad all ready to watch A Bowie Celebration.
So, thank you Starman, for everything. Your massive creativity, talent, that certain mystique about you, live on. No one can ever replicate it. You are the soundtrack of my life. So many of my heroes have been long gone, some for centuries, but I and so many others count ourselves very lucky to have witnessed your career, your presence on Earth. In April 2004, I saw you perform live at Budweiser Events Center, in Loveland, CO, for your Reality Tour. It was a dream come true. I really can say I have seen David Bowie perform live. And it was utterly fantastic. And in many ways, bittersweet. It was both the first and last time I ever saw you. And it was also the last time for my Dad, marking the end to a decades long span of watching his hero on stage. We each wore a Bowie shirt, Dad letting me wear his shirt from Bowie’s ’78 tour; I felt so honored. I could easily keep going on, but I would like to end my ramble on this: we miss you Bowie, Major Tom, Aladdin Zane, Ziggy. And to my Dad (whom I, and others, have always thought could pass as Bowie’s brother): thank you.
“For 2020, I’ll be running the Insane Inflatable 5k with my GJ Adventure Tribe, in May; so excited! I’ve also been itching to run a half marathon again, so I’m thinking of Grand Valley Half Marathon, also in May. I do know for certain I want to run a trail race or two, I just need to do some research for upcoming events...” —from my previous post Run Report: A Look Back, and 2020 Goals
Well, as you can imagine, none of the above happened. We all know how 2020 went, no need to go into painful detail…
With regards to running, however, this hobby experienced a resurgence, as folks turned to racking up miles on the pavement and trails, as both a physical and mental outlet from the chaos of ’20. With gyms closed and exercise classes cancelled, the lure of running prompted many, from intermittent runners to first timers, to lace up their sneakers and head outside. Those who had sworn off and detested running suddenly flocked to their local running stores, seeking advice for the best shoes, apparel, and nutrition. One upside to 2020: it was neat to observe more folks up and running, literally.
As I noted in my August post Running and COVID-19, this spike in running was clearly observed at public open spaces. For example, Front Range metro Denver parks and trails such as Deer Creek Canyon, Mt. Falcon, Green Mountain, etc. were suddenly inundated with hikers and runners. And let me tell you, these places were already popular long before COVID. Such increase in usage led to closures for several such recreation areas.
2020: My Year in Running
When it became clear that most running events were to be cancelled or go virtual, I just kept with my normal routine of running 3-4 times a week. As I was furloughed for a month and a half, I decided I ‘d use the time to further increase mileage, but alas! I was thwarted, by retrocalcaneal bursitis. Isn’t that a fun word? In a nutshell, I experienced sharp pain at the edges of both heels, as the bursa, or tiny fluid filled sacs that serve as cushion, were irritated. The pain was especially evident when running uphill…and as I much prefer running uphill than downhill, this may have been the cause of the issue. I experienced zero pain in my Achilles tendons, and (luckily) no pain on the underside of my heels (indicative of plantar fasciitis). But still, the pain sidelined me for several weeks. To combat the condition, I stretched my legs even more consistently, noticing the pain lessened especially when I stretched my calves. I am pain free now, but in retrospect, I wonder if a Strasbourg sock, used to treat plantar fasciitis, would have helped as well…
Love these shoes…and yes I pronate to a high degree. 🙂
I was wearing low to zero drop shoes when the pain first started, and I wonder if this is suspect. Once the pain went away mid-summer, I reverted back to traditional, high drop running shoes, such as Brooks Ghost, with a 12mm offset. Since then I’ve noticed no pain or irritation. The lowest drop I’ve worn since is Brooks Pure Cadence, with 4mm offset.
2020: 10 Years of Running
One good thing about 2020: the year marked a decade since I’d first fallen in love with running. I even remember the exact date: November 18, 2010, the day I ran 3 miles for the first time. That day I discovered that not only could I run, but I enjoyed it. And so a new passion was born; you can read all about in my post Run Run Run. As I am such a running dork, on the 10th anniversary of that day I ran Serpent’s Trail in Colorado National Monument, to celebrate. 🙂
Virtual Races
Now…POSE!Running 10k for Turkey Trot. Photo credit: Yoli H.
I’d resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t race at all in 2020, but in November and December, I ran the Turkey Trot and Santa “Cause” 5K with my adventure tribe! Both races had gone virtual, so my friends and I ran them together on our own. For both races we ran along Riverside Trail, with Jamie and Shanin marking out the route and turnaround points with chalk. With Turkey Trot my friend Jamie completed her first 10k! 🙂 I love seeing folks progress on their running journey!
Arms immediately raised! Jamie completes her first ever 10k. 🙂
And my Mom participated in her first ever 5k, with the virtual Santa “Cause” Run. This race is especially fun as runners are provided a Santa suit when you register. The weather was especially beautiful the day of that run, and as I PR’ed, shaving 12 seconds off my previous fastest 5k time, I was the fastest female overall in this event. The Santa Cause Run truly was a great kickoff to the holiday season. 🙂
Yoli and Keeva, ready to run.Andy and Rocko, all decked out for Santa Cause Run.
Thoughts…
2020 wasn’t my highest mileage year, but I still had a great time trail and road running, once I was pain free. And I ran my first ever virtual races, with a great crew of people. 🙂 It was especially heartwarming for me to walk alongside my Mom the last half mile towards the finish line. It was a great experience for her and she told me several times how much fun it was. 🙂
One thing I accomplished in 2020, per my goals in Run Report: A Look Back, and 2020 Running Goals, was that I started mountain biking again. I was even participating in the Great Cycle Challenge, which raises money to fight childhood cancer, with my goal to ride 200 miles. I ended up raising over $100, but unfortunately, I was unable to meet my mileage goal, as I totaled my bike: I swerved to avoid a deer that had suddenly jumped in my path, and hit a big rut that sent me and my bike face first into the dirt. Luckily, I came out only bruised, but my trusty Trek of 15+ years is finally done. 🙁 Time for a new bike, I’m thinking full suspension…
2021 Goals
For 2021, I’d love to run a half marathon again! As of this writing, Grand Valley Half Marathon is scheduled for May…will it go virtual? I guess we’ll see. My main running goal for now is to run consistently, and so far I have, having run nearly everyday this first week of January. A few days ago I ran 10 miles in 1 hr. 28 min., and it felt easy. I plan on running 13.1 miles–my own half–sometime soon. Just as with 2020, we’ll see how this new year unfurls…Fortunately, we now have the vaccine! Regardless of whether I race virtually or not, I know running is always there for me. As I like to say, a runner’s got to run!
On Saturday, September 5, my friend Christoph and I summited Mount of the Holy Cross.
Located at the northern most end of Colorado’s Sawatch Range, Holy Cross is renown for its snowy cross embedded on its eastern face. Made famous by photographer William Henry Jackson’s iconic 1873 photo, the peak drew pilgrims in the 1920s-30s.
William Henry Jackson’s famous photograph of Mount of the Holy Cross; the photo was taken from the summit of Notch Mountain. Image from Wikimedia Commons.
Sadly, the cross today is not as prominent as pictured in Jackson’s photos. But that fact doesn’t deter folks from climbing the mountain. Rising to 14,005 feet, Holy Cross is a proud Colorado “Fourteener.”
As with summiting any mountain, Christoph and I started hiking early, around 6:30 AM, to summit before any possible thunderstorms. This peak is notorious for its history of lost, injured, and missing hikers; located in Holy Cross Wilderness just southwest of Vail, the area is especially rugged and remote. North Ridge Route, rated Class 2 due to much rock hopping, is the standard route, and is 12 miles roundtrip with 5,600 ft. in total elevation gain. Note: The trailhead map labels this same route as Mount of the Holy Cross Trail, and the section from the trailhead to Half Moon Pass is also called Half Moon Trail. To any folks reading this who have not summited 14ers: I would NOT attempt this peak for your first 14er! This is a long, strenuous out and back trek. Even if you are very fit and/ or from CO, altitude sickness is a very real threat. People have died on Holy Cross, due to becoming lost/ injured or to exposure; don’t become a statistic.
Map at Half Moon Campground.
For this trip I packed 3L of water and a water bottle, along with several snacks. The longest hike I had done before this was 14ers Belford and Oxford, an 11 mile hike, in July 2013. Having bagged both those 14ers in one hike, I figured I could add Holy Cross to my list.
We arrived at the trailhead at 6:15 AM. As was the case, Half Moon Campground tends to fill up early, so we parked along the road a few yards down. Setting my Garmin to “Hike,” we maintained our goal pace of 2 miles/ hour for most of the route in. Winding SW/S, the trail starts well below tree line, at 10,370 ft. The sun had barely risen, and we rapidly gained elevation. At 1.5 miles we crested Half Moon Pass, elev. 11,600 ft., and alas, began descending—so much for all that elevation we had made. The trail descended back into the woods, but not before we caught our first glimpse of our goal, Mount of the Holy Cross.
Rising above all other peaks in the valley, Holy Cross is striking. The irony: for all its name and history, hikers don’t get to see the famed cross, as this route approaches the north, not the east, face of the mountain. To view the Cross, you must summit “13er” Notch Mountain, on the south side of Half Moon Pass.
Continuing on North Ridge Route, rapid switchbacks drop down 1,000 ft. into the forest, where we crossed East Cross Creek. The trail begins to climb again, then reaches tree line. From here the real climb starts: exposed and very steep. However, Colorado Fourteeners Initiative (CFI) did a great job creating steps out of the boulder field. From around 12,100 to 13,400 ft. we continued on these “stairs,” to the north ridge, marked with cairns. Turning left, and the final ascent looms above—so close! The trail fades, and for the last 300 feet you find your own way up over the talus.
At around 11:15 AM, we made it! Not a cloud in sight. About seven or eight others folks roamed the top, taking in the panorama of peaks: Ten Mile-Mosquito range to the east, Flattops to the northwest, Gore Range to the northeast, and the Elks to the south, with Maroon Bells and Capitol Peak visible.
We made it! I wish I had made a sign proclaiming our ascent…US Geological Survey marker at summit.Looking down from the east edge of the summit, with Bowl of Tears lake below.
As the forecast had promised, there were no thunderstorms this afternoon. The entire day was perfect: blue sky, cotton ball clouds, plenty of sunshine and no wind. With such pristine conditions, we were in no rush to descend. We agreed to much needed nap time on the peak: snoozing on a 14er is something both of have us have wanted to do. On the east edge of the top, we stretched out and soaked in the sun, marveling at the fast changing lone clouds above us. Eventually we dozed off for several minutes: sooo relaxing and restorative.
Nap on a 14er? Check.
With the weather utterly still and calm, we remained on the summit for nearly two hours. It was well past noon now, and several hikers took a cue from us, stretching out and snoozing at 14,000 ft. in the air. Per usual in the great outdoors, everyone we met was very kind, and for most of the day, we temporarily forgot about, well…2020. At the top of Holy Cross, everything felt normal.
Savoring the summit. The Elk Range is in the background.
After a few last summit pics, we began the long descent down, a little past 1 PM. As with my running, in hiking I am faster on the ascents than I am on descents; ironic, huh? So the way back down to tree line seemed to take forever; luckily my hiking buddy is very patient and encouraging! It was pretty toasty now on the northern ridge, nearly 80 degrees. I was now especially glad for my trekking poles, in helping me navigate my way down the talus and loose rock on the steep slopes. Note:Do not make the mistake of losing North Ridge Route by straying down into the valley below. There is a history of hikers getting lost/ stranded on the west talus slopes of the peak. Instead, you want to remain hiking along the ridge, sticking to the exact route that you hiked in.
The American pika, so adorable! Never have I seen, or heard, so many pikas as I did on this trek. Photo from www.nfw.org
My temples ached a little on the way down, so I increased my water intake, and we paused several times to listen the serenade of the “eep”ing pikas. 🙂 It was late afternoon by the time we reached tree line, and once we returned to East Cross Creek again, I made up for time on the climb back to Half Moon Pass, passing several folks on the way up.
View of Holy Cross from East Cross Creek.The remnants of Pilgrims Hut, by East Cross Creek.
My trusty hiking boots now bit into my toes on the downhill, and by the last few miles I was hobbling. Back in the woods, on the final descent back to the trailhead, it was refreshing to be finally out of the sun. We arrived at my Jeep at 7 PM; excluding our time on the summit, we had been on the trail for a total of 10 hours. 😀
My Garmin stats for the out and back portions of the hike.
Tired and dusty, we headed to Minturn (pop. 1,129), but as we guessed, Minturn had “turned in” for the night (sorry, couldn’t resist; however, this is hilarious after you’ve been hiking all day, haha). So to Vail we went for much deserved food, consuming a burrito each. Finally, we hit the road home. Mount of the Holy Cross: another 14er for the books, for each of us. 😀
Summit selfies.
Holy Cross, the “Mysterious Mountain,” unique for its snowy cross, history, and isolation, is a satisfying climb. However, it is not a trek for the faint of heart. The out and back route of 12 miles total is strenuous with over a mile of total elevation gain. Plan for a long day hike, or even better, spend the night at Half Moon Campground. If you are considering a 14er, I would attempt this particular peak only after you have summited several other 14ers. Bring plenty of water; stay hydrated the entire time. I finished my 3L bladder right at tree line on the hike down, with 4 miles to go, leaving me with a 16 oz water bottle and Gatorade. For me, Honeystinger chews and electrolyte powders definitely help fight off fatigue, and slather on lots of sunscreen (the sun was blazing the entire hike), and wear a hat. And when frustration and fatigue do creep in, just look around to spot the pika, and let their ever constant EEP! encourage you on your way. 🙂 For those wholly prepared for the journey, Holy Cross is more than rewarding for its beauty, isolation…and plenty of pikas, of course. 🙂
Until next time, little pikas!
Getting there: From Denver, take I-70 west 100 miles, passing through Vail, then take Exit 171. Take US 24 southward two miles, passing through the small town of Minturn. Continue almost three miles, then turn right onto Tigiwon Road. A well maintained dirt road that 2WD vehicles can easily access, continue zigzagging up for eight miles, arriving at Half Moon Campground. NOTE: Every year from November 22–June 21st, Tigiwon Road is closed to vehicles, but mt. biking and hiking are permitted.
Punk Pixie
I first saw your beautiful and forbidding face
in a music magazine.
Razor sharp cheekbones,
Death glare, heathen sounds, searing vocals:
A misfit friend found.
You were hardly 14,
when you ran away from home,
never revealing the reasons why
only providing your new name, a new soul:
Alice Glass.
Shards of innocence
stripped away
your companions the punks
of Downton Toronto.
Blue eyes dilated
skin sickly pale
hair once fair
dyed black to deny the image
that you were once a helpless child.
Your look: a mesmerizing witch,
Ripped tights
random shirts,
Jack Daniel's
in one hand,
a cigarette in the other.
A look formidable,
Always paired
With a pencil skirt.
You took to the stage
Staring down rabid males
A spirit more punk than theirs
Spitting beer in faces
Wielding the mic
Screaming your poetry.
I must admit that I’m surprised—
and utterly relieved—
That you’re still here.
That the angry cuts
The abusive creeps
The aching psyche
Did not silence you forever:
That which is the short, violent history of your life.
But at that show in Denver,
You proved yourself very much alive.
When you jumped into the crowd
There is absolution,
Born of adulation, inspiration, hope.
The image of your face becomes flesh,
As I hold you up to the heavens,
misfits and individuals bracing our friend,
the goth eccentric, rebel beauty
Alice Glass: a legend in my own time.
~LMC
This poem I wrote in college, dedicated to one of my true heroes, the lovely Alice Glass. A singer and songwriter, Alice holds such reverence in my heart in that she is utterly unique in both her life story and talent. Alice Glass is the former vocalist (and as far as I’m concerned the only vocalist) of my favorite band, Crystal Castles. An electro-punk duo, CC’s songs are seared into heart in the same way as Bowie is part of my identity. I love electronic music, and I discovered Crystal Castles at the right time: just before I started college. Their music was unlike anything I had heard before. From jarring, mind rattling 8-bit pieces (“Love and Caring,” “XXZXCUZ Me”) to dark synth ballads (“Suffocation,” “Wrath of God”), I was, and still am, enthralled. Mesmerized. A day does not go by that I do not listen to my beloved CC. I’m not kidding!
One of my favorite live Crystal Castles performances.
Just as my poem alludes to, I came across Alice in Spin Magazine, July 2010 edition. Accompanying a brief album review of the newly released Crystal Castles II, was a photo of one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen: Alice Glass. Her short black hair reminded of the Sneaker Pimps Kelli Ali, another badass female vocalist whom I revere. It was an immediate girl crush, that sense of having found a new friend for life. But it is not just Alice’s face that is stunning, but her aesthetic. This I immediately learned from watching CC music videos and live performances. Her dark eye makeup, punk yet feminine attire—black everything with a pencil skirt—paired with her fearless demeanor, is both striking, sexy, and confident. A no f&$#s given attitude. Diving into the crowd multiple times, climbing onto the drum kit, all while wailing out her soul: I had never seen such wild, naked passion in a singer, let alone a female vocalist. It was and is such a beautiful, reassuring thing to see. As a woman, I relate to and respect Alice in shattering expectations for women. Forget the plastic, robot façade pop singers of the mainstream: Alice was, is, and will forever be my girl crush, my role model, my hero.
Alice Glass at Fox Theatre, Boulder, CO, May 2018.
Alice departed CC in 2014, citing sexual, mental, and physical abuse by her own band mate, the other half of the duo. I won’t mention his name. Enough about him. Since then Alice has embarked on a solo career, with her first EP, the self titled Alice Glass, released August 2017 to critical acclaim. I love her new work. As one interviewer described the work, “Alice Glass sounds everything like and nothing like Alice Glass.” If you’re a CC fan hoping for more CC stuff, don’t bother. Alice continues to cultivate her own new sound, a catalyst for dealing with the trauma of her past, while still asserting her voice and her persona. A brilliant lyricist, she explores feelings of self doubt, hope, particularly rage and vengeance. One thing that has remained the same since Alice of the CC era: Alice’s passion and sincerity are ever present in her work, as I witnessed at her show at Boulder’s Fox Theatre, May 2018. She held my hand while cooing Celestica, and not once, but several times I sang literally right next to her when she stepped down onto the floor. The reverence she has for her fans is palpable, just as her fan base utterly adores her.
The album review that started it all.
10 years has passed since I discovered Crystal Castles on 26 June 2010; in this past decade I’ve followed and grown up with Alice and her journey. Just as my hero has experienced dizzying highs and terrible lows, Alice’s music has been there for me in my own journey.
We love you Alice; never stop fighting.
~LMC
Featured photo of Alice Glass at top of page, and Moon Dagger, are from public domain.
L: Rockin’ the Alice Glass Moon Dagger! R: Crystal Castles II album cover.
