hope

Our friends have a quiet little cabin in Hope. Out back is an even smaller guest cabin where we sometimes stay. Their place is a couple miles from the Resurrection Trail, a great backcountry ride (or hike). Jon and I drove out of town on Wednesday afternoon, the hottest day of the year - the thermometer finally bumped above 70 degrees.

My ambitious thoughts of getting down there and maybe doing a short ride before dinner soon turned into both of us melting in lounge chairs on a sunny deck, soaking up the rays and a beer. Reading. That was sweat rolling down my back.

For our three-day holiday we were prepared to bike, hike and lounge around. There was lots of lounging. Kind of like this dog waiting for its owner at the Seaview.

One highlight of our trip:
I saw a black bear on Resurrection Trail. I decided to turn around before Jon and he continued on to the Pass. Riding back toward the cabin, I took my time, looked at the wildflowers as they colored the meadows and the sides of the trail. Through an old burn area, blackened stumps fueled my imagination as my gaze swept the surroundings. I started to sing. It was Folsom Prison Blues.

Nearing the ponds, I slowed. That's when I saw the black furry head pop up from behind the low trees across the water. The ears seemed a bit high, but it couldn't be anything else. I tried to keep my eyes on it as I pulled out my camera to snap a photo in time before it ducked back down and out of view. All I got was the landscape. Back on the bike, I started talking and whooping, hoping it would get the message. When I saw two hikers starting up the steep hill, I'll admit, I felt a little safer having a little company again.