Purposefully Unprepared

this past wednesday i went out to Deer Creek Canyon Park with the almost-sub-conscious yearning to be on the trails at night without gear (headlamp, flashlight, etc).
since my junior year of high school, I've loved to nothingness that comes with runs on country roads at night. the endless roads, the cool and humid air, and the solitude. and also the occasional feelings of being watched/followed.

i set out just before 6:00 in the evening and headed toward the first peak. in the first 1.5 miles the trail goes more than 800 feet up before leveling off a bit for the next two miles, only gaining 400. that two mile section of the trail runs along the west side of the mountain and offers the best view of the Denver area that i know of. i watched as, building by building, Denver was covered by the shadow of the mountains.

this one wasn't taken by me, but its right next to where i was as the sun was setting on Denver.

the sun had set by the time i got the the top, but by making it over the peak i bought myself another 10'ish minutes of sunlight. i followed the Homesteader trail to the most remote part of the park: the Red Mesa Loop and the Golden Eagle Trail.

again, not taken by me, but in the right spot: the Homesteader Trail

i could feel where the sun had been last as i ran through the western part of Red Mesa: the slight breeze was warm even after the sun had gone. after the finishing the 2.5 mile loop on Red Mesa (and more than 7 miles into the run), it was getting hard to see the trail in front of me, and the moon wasn't high enough to provide any significant light yet.
looking down at the Denver-metro area felt like i was in a plane over the city at night. if you've ever flown at night you know that its probly the most beautiful a city can ever look. -the lights defining each street and each neighborhood all glistening and displaying human kinds vast development/domestication of the land we live on. it was a strange feeling to realize that the lights and buildings i saw were providing a safety and security that i didn't have where i was. all those people were in their homes and surrounded by people while i was alone with the trail and nature. i felt like a deer looking out of the forest at a Super Target...

after a quick out-and-back up a small foothill(on Golden Eagle Trail), i started the journey back. by this point i couldn't see the trail right below me which made the trip back very unique to me. as i ran down the rocky hills my feet followed suit with my senses and seemed almost super-human as the adapted to the rugged, uneven rocks below them. i had reached a point where i was actually looking around more than i do during the day because trying to see the trail wasn't helping in the slightest anyway.
it was the most intimate moment I've ever had with a running surface. the trail seemed to reach up to me just as i reached down to it with each stride. despite how jagged the surface may be, my feet adapted to each step and took it like they've taken millions smooth, stable steps on the roads. the rest of the run back was spent entirely in my own head, enjoying every individual second of it for all that it's worth, knowing that runs like this are rare for me and non-existent for most...

i would put up with months of bad runs to get one run like this...