It had been some time since I made the drive up to the Godman Guard Station. As familiar geography passed by, I realized I had never made the drive outside of hunting season. A steep and jagged ridge, narrow as a razor's edge, reminded me of a time one archery season when I contemplated trying to find mule deer in the bowls of the canyon below. Considering the pack out cured me of that notion. Passing Stockade Spring and Midway Campground reminded me of my last hunts for snowshoe hare and grouse with a friend who passed away last fall. While the drive stirred welcomed reminiscence, intermittent color pops from meadows blanketed with blooming wildflowers kept my mission fresh in my mind.

Summer wildflowers in the Blues are a true spectacle to behold, ranging from white to deep purple and every shade, shape, and size. From the crimson of Indian paintbrush to canary-yellow balsamroots and violet hues of the of penstemons and Bonneville shooting stars, a rich palette presented itself along the drive. But window-shopping from the driver's seat was only the beginning. My mountain bike was freshly tuned and sporting new treads and begging for a loop on the mountaintop.

Departing from the Godman Campground, I biked down to the Guard Station and started out the Goose Corral Trail with the intent of dropping off onto Meadow Creek Trail and eventually circling back. However, what should have been a relatively quick loop melted into something like Gilligan's three-hour tour of the mountain as the entire ride was cloaked in blooms that changed species and colors with elevation and moisture level.

While the pleasing burn of thigh muscle pumping it out along the trail provided constant proof of my present lack of physical fitness, the allure of each different flower shape and color led to many dismounts and photo opportunities – enough to allow for a longer ride on relatively fresh legs.

On the mountaintop, a pale blush came from the lanceleaf springbeauty; a low-growing, delicate five-petaled flower with deep pink vanes and pink-tipped stamens. A carpet of yellow fawn lily and Gray's biscuitroot completely covered a meadow in a golden glow. The trail edges were speckled with lavender-toned Douglas' brodiaea and boasted what appeared to be a deep, rich blue showy penstemon, both with an intriguing pitcher-like flower structure.

Dropping onto Meadow Creek Trail, I wound through a short section of evergreens, relearning how to negotiate large loose rock and water-breaks as I bombed downhill. The trail made an abrupt left at the bottom and quickly traversed wetland seeps that were flowing more like trout streams from recent rains.

Chartreuse moss grew over rocks beneath a labyrinth of thick serviceberry stems. Sagebrush buttercup occurred in brilliant yellow mounds. And the oddly-shaped ballhead waterleaf with its prickly-looking purple flower hidden beneath its complex leaves was an interesting discovery.

Rounding a bend in the trail, a series of puddles made for sticky going and mud-slinging, and the mud held secrets of the mountain's inhabitants. Deer tracks were expected, but in the middle of a long puddle was a perfectly-formed singular cat track suggesting a bobcat had slipped through the area.

As the trail loop had brought me nearly full-circle, a series of snow drifts lingered in the shaded north aspect. Walking on them suggested they were sturdy, and, of course, there was no question I would follow up on the bike. Unfortunately, skinny tires, a heavy rider, and a melty surface layer led to an abrupt halt as I mounted the first drift. Interestingly, the bike had no trouble sliding backward off of the drift and nearly dumping me into the runoff stream that the drifts were feeding. As I walked the bike over the drifts, I noticed another small white flower and had to stop for further inspection. I have yet to identify it, among many others from this wildflower ride.

Climbing the hill back up to Godman Campground, I noticed another wetland seep completely covered in yet a new pink flower, the "grass widow". This unique beauty grows a single bloom hung on the side of the long, slender grass-like blade that supports it. A final showing of Mother Nature's artistry at the end of the tour.

With summer finally upon us, it's the perfect time to head for higher ground to bask in the splendor of the Blue Mountains. Camping, biking, hiking, and bird-watching options are plentiful, the weather is prime, and the wildflowers are nearing their peak bloom. But the show won't last forever. Don't miss it!