Standing ankle-deep in glacial runoff at the Confluence, I was talking with a friend about our summer plans. We were recapping the events we had over the next three weekends and all the other plans we hoped to squeeze in when she said, “I don’t like being too booked up in the summer.”
I paused for a second. What did she mean? Isn’t that the point of summer? To waste as little of it as possible and make the most of every free weekend?
Summer is a season that carries a surprising amount of pressure. All year long, whenever we think of a fun idea like camping, a road trip, or having friends come to visit, it somehow sounds better if we save it for summer. Even the chores we’ve been putting off – cleaning out the garage, fixing up the car, staining the deck – get pushed to those warm, sunny months. Throw in a couple of weddings, a family reunion, and a handful of community events, and suddenly the calendar is full before July is even over.
It’s hard to blame ourselves. Summer is beautiful. The weather is mild, the days are long, and you can head outside in a T-shirt and shorts without a second thought.
When the temperature rises and the sun finally melts away that stubborn snow, a different side of Golden begins to emerge. Mountain roads become drivable again, lakes thaw, and trails dry out, opening the door to countless ways to get outside and enjoy the season.
Living in a mountain town that so many people see as the ultimate vacation destination doesn’t help, either. There is an unspoken pressure to make the most of every sunny day. It can feel as though you should be biking, hiking, rafting, climbing, paddling, camping, or paragliding during any spare minute you have. The list never seems to end.
But I think that’s where we run into a problem.
If we save every adventure, every project, and every visit until these few precious months, we don’t leave ourselves much room to simply enjoy them.
My friend explained her philosophy.
“I feel like when I book every moment, I never get those spontaneous summer days where I just see where the day takes me. Isn’t that really the best part of summer?”
The more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right.
So much of what makes summer feel special isn’t the checklist. It’s the freedom. It’s the feeling that the day could unfold in any direction. Would summer really be the same without impromptu barbecues, an unplanned swim in the lake, or a last-minute gathering that stretches late into the evening because nobody wants to go home?
Maybe our summer bucket lists have quietly become another obligation. Instead of helping us enjoy the season, they’ve started taking away the very thing that makes it feel like summer in the first place.
So, Golden, I have a challenge for you: cancel something.
Clear one weekend. Or leave one day completely empty and see what happens. Maybe you’ll go out for an unexpected breakfast, take a nap by the river, wander a trail you’ve never noticed before, or spend the evening reading on your porch.
Soon enough, the mornings will be crisp, the leaves will change, and before we know it we’ll be talking about ski season. Some things can wait.
Give yourself the gift of a blank schedule, even if it’s only for a day or two. You might find that’s exactly what summer was supposed to feel like.
