In July, the Yawp! Company went to Breckenridge.

Because it's summer time in the shop, this blog is an entire Yawp! Company trip behind. This post will therefore be more picturebook than storybook. But here are some details:

On Friday we rode Kenosha Pass to Jefferson. You can read about our experience on this trail on Blackriver HERE.

On Saturday we climbed up the Colorado Trail, which ran right past our campsite. This 4-mile climb was tough, to say the least. Was it worth it? Yes, it was. The shred-fest went on for a long, long time. There's no such thing as a descent that lasts for too long, but this one was almost long enough. Almost. We threw in a loop on Blair Witch and then descended the Colorado Trail down to the highway. (There are two trees on Blair Witch that are exactly 780mm apart, by the way, so you can knick both ends of your handlebars at the same time. Thrilling!)

We rode the bike path South into Breckenridge, and then climbed up toward the ski area to catch Peaks Trail. You can read our write-up about the awesome Peaks Trail on Blackriver HERE.

(I had to leave this trip early in order to go to Saddledrive, which you can read all about HERE.)

That's it. That's the whole trip. Although I want to tell you about a dream I had.

Right before this trip I dreamed I was driving over an overpass. I cut an arc across a city that was as claustrophobic, endless, and dirty as the city in Blade Runner. As the automobile banked through the turn, the dream changed and the automobile was gone. The overpass became a slide. I became subject to the slide for a long time, sliding down steep sections and around disorienting corners until the open slide became a tunnel, flushing me onward until suddenly it deposited me in a field.

I've heard it's unusual to see your feet in dreams, but looking down I saw my toes submerged two inches in a clear stream. I felt mud between them.

Wildflowers grew amongst the tall grasses and appeared and disappeared as the wind stirred flora. The city was barely apparent on the horizon. The feeling that my arrival in this place produced in me is difficult to describe; suffice it to say I am still moved now thinking about this dream.

I understood in the dream that the city was where I lived but the field was my home. I understood I was going to spend my life in that city and that I was going to die in it.

Climb until it makes your camera blurry.

In the dream I desperately did not want that to be my future. I wanted to remain in the field.

Even in the dream I didn't expect life to be all play and no work, but being asked to give up that field in order to return to the city seemed like too much. Then I began to wonder who it was who was asking that.