Hiking in the Wonder of Winter

A Preface: The Franklin Incident

I spent a lot of time in Kennerdell last summer. Probably more time than I had any other summer. Jason has a nice cabin near the top of Kennerdell Road, and it's a great place for friends to gather. Lots of riding, and lots of good food. Generally speaking, lots of good things that I'm super appreciative of.

We traveled to Breckenridge in August, and that was more or less the end of Kennerdell summer. As the fall season fell upon us, the temperatures declined and unfortunately, so did the health of Jason's dad. As he spent more time away from Kennerdell, so did everyone else.

However, on a frosty Saturday in early October there was a break in the lull, and we infiltrated the A-framed abode. The cabin was just as we left it. Clean, cool and filled with the smell of the great outdoors and mountain bikes.

The day went quick. We loaded a couple panniers with beer and hummus then spent the afternoon riding to Franklin to celebrate the annual Applefest. After many hours of eating, drinking and dancing, our caravan started the twenty mile passage back to the hills that cradle the cabin.

A few miles into our journey, the Allegheny was on our right and darkness was ahead. It wasn't a minute after 1:30 in the morning, and what transpired next fell to legend and came to be known as the Franklin Incident.

Bad luck. Blood. Broken bicycle. That is the result of a steel fork collapsing on the front wheel as you're riding along at 20mph. A little worse than a stick in the spokes.

After we rescued the injured and returned him to the cabin, our sleep was short. Morning brought a sense of "we should get the hell out of here before something else happens". We had all overstayed our welcome in the land of big rocks and bigger hills. We had pushed our season too far. It was time to retire south until the spring...

Bringing it Back

Ian and I made a trip up to the cabin this past Saturday to meet Jason, Ralce and Dolby. No one had been there in the four months since the Franklin Incident.

We made spinach pasta with meatballs atop sauteed garlic and pesto, then talked at the table for a few hours. With snow dumping outside, we had no real plan for the morning...spontaneous adventure, I guess. With a stomach full of Labriola's, I climbed into my down bag on the futon and breathed in the cool air. Sleep came quick.

The next morning, we went out for a four hour hike. At one point or another we all took bad falls on the icy hills, but none so major that I'll preface a future blog about.

I wore thinner gloves so using the camera would be a little easier. The day was super nice though, so I forgot about my cold hands pretty quick.

It was nice to be back.