This suburban adventurer braved the wild, and took a short hike along the Cache la Poudre River near Fort Collins.  Don't you just love this name?  I do. (More about the name later, I promise)

 My little red car and I headed down highway 14, and my heart was filled with the desire for adventure. Soon, I found myself at the head of a road side trail, and set out on my quest.  It was not long before I encountered the first of many hazards along the way, a treacherous set of concrete stairs, littered with eons of dislodged pebbles, and pine needles. At first I felt somewhat daunted but I bravely marshaled on in spite of the recurring mental image of me sprawled face first in the dust.

Later, when I reached the tops of the stairs, my next task would involve risking life and limb crossing this narrow mountain highway.  No traffic, you say, but any moment an out of control semi could come flying around the corner.  Hey, it could happen.

Despite the threat of phantom trucks, I make it across the highway and now encounter the downward steps.  Desi, I say, "These look more dangerous then the others, no hand rail.  O.K. take a deep breath Desi, you can do it." 

This band of travelers was hot on my heels as I came down the stairs, but I was too afraid to stop and let them pass.  When at last I found myself safely at the bottom I let them pass me on the bridge.  I was glad to let them go ahead, because I was worried about ticks (I swear I feel them crawling all over me right now), but hopefully this group will scare them all away before I get there.  However if we were to come upon a black bear, I am afraid every one of them would all be able to outrun me!

Luckily, I didn't encounter any trucks, ticks, bears, or poison ivy, and actually spent a lovely day along the river, taking pictures, and remembering why I love Colorado.  I miss the ocean but Colorado's rivers are stunning and peaceful, and good for the soul. 

Now for the name.  The Fort Collins History Connection, relates a story about a party of fur trappers who were caught in a snow storm along the river.  When the storm passed they realized that they would need to lighten their load before they could continue.  So, they dug a pit near the river to hide their "cache," and because most of what they buried consisted of gun powder the river becomes, "Cache la Poudre,"  Which translates as: "the place where the powder was hidden."  Cool name, right?  

I am happy to have found a home near my children and this beautiful river.  However, I miss my family and my friends that I left behind, in California.  There is a part of my heart is still in that warm and sunny place, and the ocean still runs in my veins.