There are lots of walking options in this recreation area, including following the shoreline around a reservoir or even renting a little boat to go for a paddle, but we stuck with the classic Spanish option of starting at the bar and heading for the ruins. The bar had a rip roaring fire going, so we got nice and toasty before heading out. It was one of the only times we wore our winter coats, last winter was so mild!
This trail was not clearly marked, or at least not visibly so in the snow, so we picked our own way uphill to a forest access road, passing some docile cattle and crossing a brook where I was sure a talking beaver would appear. Talk about your Narnia moment - after escaping the breath of the White Witch on the mountain top, the breath of Aslan had appeared, sparkling snow and dripping icicles.
|did a faun just peek out at me?|