Most people like to do a sunrise hike. I am not most people. Call me crazy, but I much prefer to be asleep between the hours of 2 and 6 am. So we went with the obviously superior alternative, a sunset hike. It was magnificent. We had the mountain essentially all to ourselves, and the sunset was a peculiar blood-red color that I have never seen before. Then, while it was still fairly light, the lights in the valley started to come on, and it looked to be like someone had sprinkled gold glitter over the valley floor. I highly recommend the sunset option.
In all my past experience with Timp, the hike down the mountain always seems to diminish the sense of accomplishment that I feel upon reaching the summit. Coming down goes so much faster that I have trouble believing how strenuous the path up seemed to be at the time. Not so with the sunset hike. Our journey back to Minerva (my minivan) was in the dark, making the dicey parts all the more dangerous and the snowy parts seem all the more slippery. Even the smallest rock cast a long and treacherous looking shadow in the harsh light of our flashlights, and every shadow from every bush and boulder looked fit to hide the most dangerous creatures of the night. In the darkness, when we lost the trail, it was more difficult to find again. And, in the darkness, it was difficult to measure our progress, so the path seemed to continue on endlessly. Yes, the hike down proved our accomplishment to be great indeed.
A giant thanks to Andrea and Sarah for accompanying me and allowing me to answer the nagging of the mountain and for helping me accomplish my goal of watching the sunset from one of my favorite places on earth. Although I was, surprisingly, not very sore the next day, I think that my next pilgrimage will wait until next year when again the mountain calls to me.
