Not so long ago, 42 degrees fahrenheit was well within my definition of a cold winter day. Yesterday, I experienced 42 degrees from a whole new perspective. The warmth that I felt wasn’t only due to the fact that it was 90 degrees colder last month.
The day started with a beautiful breakfast created by my favorite person in the world (gluten free blueberry pancakes with bacon and fat pile of sautéed veggies. Yeah, we eat well around here!) and continued with a few hours of pastry creation.
After that, Jefe and I ride our single speeds up Gold Basin Road and into Saguache County. It may have been the lingering warmth from the oven, but as we climb up into the valley I pull my jersey open a little bit. The wind on my knees for the first time this Spring feels like heaven. I notice the lingering snow that had built up on the south-facing aspects of the rolling sage hills. The high, wispy clouds contrasting the perfect blue sky fill me in a way that nothing else can. That perfect landscape paired with a few hours pedaling alongside my best friend generates all the warmth that I need.
As we crest a hill just on the other side of the county line, we stop to take in the view. From East to West we see, Red Mountain, Whetstone, Axtel, Carbon, Purple, Ruby, and Owen, The Anthracites, and The West Elks. The simplicity of the single speed, the majesty of our spectacular home, the comfort of partnership; all fill me with so much gratitude that I feel like I could burst.
Sometimes I laugh at myself for trying so hard, so often to put these feelings into words. Every minute of every day I am searching for the experiences that bring forth sensations for which there are no words, and then I go trying to describe them in writing and in conversation. It’s a funny and perhaps futile process. But perhaps there is even gratitude in that futility; knowing that it is all so much more than my vocabulary. Knowing that words may be fun, but they are no measurement for meaning.