The little things

Life at a slower pace. Two wheels come at a price; a price I am happy to pay over and over again on any day of the week, but sometimes an enforced break is the exact remedy you didn’t know you were looking for.

The fee for riding bikes is missing out on the little things that move slowly. The things that need to be admired rather than just glanced at. Spending some time admiring and moving at the pace of the trees and the birds brings rewards beyond any singletrack buzz. I won’t be hanging up the freewheel just yet, but a change in pace has to be savoured when you get the chance.

I’m not a horticulturist, so these descriptions will vary from ‘abstract’ to ‘crude’, but at least they’ll be flowery.

These little white delicacies were growing everywhere the trees weren’t, and everywhere water was. Snuggled beside baltic lakes completely exposed to the wind, I’m sure that stem has weather many a storm to gain its modest height.

Aspens and sunlight are a perfect pair. Add in a gentle evening breeze and the trees come alive with shimmering leaves. The high altitude combined with early summer means these Aspens were only just completing their transition from silver to green. This spring colour change is normally overlooked in favour of the autumnal majesty of orange, but its subtly is what makes it most special.

I don’t know what you are, but your blue trumpets poking just above the shrubs are magnificent. Anything which grows at 12,000 feet is magnificent.

14 years since the pine beetle epidemic hit the Rocky Mountains. Its devastating fury leaving swathes of hillside devoid of life. this isolated pine sitting in a bowl out of the wind seemed to be flaunting its deathly colour to great effect. It may be dead, but it made me take notice. don’t avert your eyes when you see those decimated trees. Look further and think of a solution.

This bough was reaching its way out over the lake. Its stretching tentacles begging for the nutrients just out of its reach. At sunset, the trees own life paled in comparison to the screeching and squawking life of everything contained within its canopy.

You’ll probably never go to Saratoga, WY. Why would you? Its not on the road to anywhere you’ll go either. But this little diner takes precedence over main street, and also prides itself it appearance too.

When you dont have stature on your side, go for colour instead. This is atop Union Pass, a slight dip in the run of mountains slicing their way across North West Wyoming.