Why we must reclaim our river

It’s an annual ritual for the alpine snow to melt as soon as the spring winds blow over the Flat Tops and once the sun again embraces the raw lands of the backcountry. Water, here, is practically woven into nature’s coat out of thin air. It condenses on the rugged skin of the pine trees already battling to survive on the cusp of the tree-line and on the minuscule petals of the columbines. This water…