The scenery was absolutely amazing. Broad swaths of prairie land over what once was the bottom of a prehistoric ocean, bordered on all sides by majestic looking mountains. The scenery had a wild sort of beauty, desolate and yet attractive at the same time.
The altitude took a little getting used to; we live at 64 feet above sea-level and here we were walking around at a base of 7,200 climbing up at times over 12,000. It literally took our breath away.
In retrospect that was one of the biggest gifts of the trip. Completely disconnecting from personal technology allowed me to focus more on the beauty surrounding me. Hiking through varied terrain, enjoying the glorious color of the aspen groves, and spotting unusual-to-me animals was a treat beyond words.
The night-time was just as much of a treat as the day. With virtually no light pollution I had the best view of the night-time skies since we went camping years ago in the California desert. I could see the Milky Way in all of it's glory, brilliant diamond-light stars that are invisible from my home in Texas, and the vastness of a sharp, clear, dark sky.
The nights were deliciously cold and we slept with the porch door open to allow the breezes in. One evening I woke up in the middle of the night to the chorus of coyotes calling across the valley. It was a shivery-delightful moment.
I plan to make it a regular part of my day to spend some time sitting quietly and letting go. Getting rid of the stress and tension that builds up all to quickly when we push ourselves to be uber-productive. Remembering that feeling of calm that came with disconnecting has gotten me to recommit to at least one day a week when I can repeat the experience. I think I'll feel better for it and I'm guessing I'll be happier too.