man holding bar on mountain peak during daytime

The northern edge of the ridge was all spruce trees and raindrops. We passed a day hiker and a quiet herd of deer, climbing higher and higher. By the time we reached the first viewpoint, the Ouray valley stretched out beneath us, dwarfed by the peaks above it, who were in turn smothered by the deep mist of rain. We skirted the storm on its north edge for the next few hours, counting paces as we left behind aspen groves and spruce trees to reach the Bridge of Heaven.