I spent three weeks in the Rio Grande Wilderness in Colorado, hunting elk with a bow. We rode in on horseback, camped at 11,500 feet in the shadow of Ute Mountain. I found many obsidian and flint arrowheads there. It's a haunting place. I knew the Utes had once camped there, well away from running stream that coursed through that big valley. I felt at home and never wanted to leave the high country.