My borrowed car skids to stop at the turnaround. I get out, lace up my boots, and hit the trail. With only a few more open days left in my schedule for hiking, I based my evening's destination purely by trail preference. As I continue onward, the air becomes heavier with moister; distant rumbles of thunder encourage me to pick up my pace. I cross over the North Fork dozens of times, eventually losing count. Delicate wildflowers and dainty waterfalls decorate my path, a lushness found in few other places on the Ranch. Not much further on, I find myself in a familiar grove of aspens. I must be getting close.