The lady at the hotel desk pointed me toward "Green Mountain". I had visions of some fantastic mountain like what Anton K. would run up every day, but was not to be. Green Mountain reminded me of the San Bruno Mountains just south of San Fran. Big, bald, hills with nice ridge running, with fantastic views and some steep stuff on the sides. I did a lot of off roading, relishing the absence of poison oak, or terrible prickly things in general. I had a clean conscience at the time- I crossed paths with another trail runner and asked him if it was frowned upon to leave the trails here. He said nope, he saw people do it all the time. That gave me the green light and I turned left, and went straight up the hill. Later I found out that they have the same "trail erosion" fears as they have in California. Whatever.
|Looking South through the valley.|
|Green Mountain from below|
|Sweaty guy with short shorts. Downtown Denver in the background.|
|Green Mountain at the top.|