Rejuvenated

Despite almost missing our first two flights, daily rain and waaaaayyyy too many people, our trip to Colorado was fabulous. Eight days is just enough time to completely relax AND still enjoy the company of the people you have to live with once the vacation is over.

We rented a home this year because Ron and I are way too old to "appreciate" the rustic-ness of furniture made of unsanded pine and twenty year old mattresses. This year we had a mammoth sized bed made of aspen logs. How big was it? We had to use our walkie talkies to say goodnight. The only drawbacks to the location were the dog kennel and chop shop on either side of us. I had to really restrain myself from yelling at the top of my lungs, "Would you dogs shut up already? You're ruining my peace and tranquility."

Maybe the best feature of the home was the ultra-fine cassette tape of John Denver's greatest hits. Was I in heaven? Indeed I was. Until Tyler heard the lyric, "Sometimes I feel like a sad song. And I'm all alone . . . " He thought it was "Sometimes I feel like a Sasquatch." Which would pretty much explain why he felt all alone.

We spent hours on Alluvial Fan, this massive rock /water fall that is a result of the dam breaking at Lawn Lake (or Fern Lake, I can't remember which). It dumped 29 MILLION gallons of water down the mountainside and flooded Estes Park (a good five or six miles away) with five feet of water. It's Tyler's favorite place to hike (he went to the top twice this trip) and my favorite place to watch people do stupid things. Stuff like piling six people on a boulder in the middle of the waterfall just to take a picture. Seriously, it's dangerous. One summer I saw an eight-year old boy take the waterslide ride of his life down the falls. Luckily there wasn't too much water that year; I'm not sure anyone could survive it when the water's up. So, yeah, I let Tyler disappear for hours following the trail up river. Don't think that notion of Sasquatch didn't enter my mind more than once.

Ron fished his little heart out. And caught a bunch. We only saw him catch one . . . I know why he likes to fish in solitude. Tyler and I started hopping around and hollering, which I'm told is not conducive to a good day of fishing. As I watched these two trout basically treading water right next to a big boulder I had to think that life as a fish would suck. That's all they do all day. Swim upstream, trying to figure out if that little hairy thing in front of them is the real deal or a cleverly disguised apparatus with a nasty barbed hook on the end of it. Turns out they're not all that smart. 'Cause like I said, Ron caught a bunch.

To the left are some of my favorite shots of the week (all taken by Tyler).

Oh, yeah. Humidity stinks.