Rocky Mountains, Yeah!

The conference ended at noon. So after lunch, I rented a car and headed up for Estes Park to see some mountains, and to visit my brother, Steve.

US 36 winds up from Broomfield into the mountains. The road between here and Boulder is a freeway, but it quickly becomes a windy, two-lane highway. The university is on the east side of Boulder, and has what I think are some high-rise dormitories. Their architecture fits right in with the landscape - some interesting buildings from the freeway. Many stoplights later, I had navigated through Boulder, and on the west side of town I picked up two hitchikers who were on their way to the Rainbow Gathering near Steamboat Springs. They were two very friendly characters, and a little strange, with perhaps a few neurons misfiring. The older guy wanted to leave Boulder, because the woman he had been seeing realized that he wasn't Mr. Right. He spent the winters in Arizona, and the summers traveling around the country. The younger guy was from Minnesota and was preparing for about a month at the gathering. Very interesting folk. I dropped them off at the edge of Estes Park.

With advanced cell phone technology, I called Steve and he guided me to Aspen Avenue, and his home. I talked with him and his wife for a bit then he and I headed for a walk around town, some ice cream and coffee, and a visit to a couple of galleries. On the way we encountered a cow elk that had just given birth. The sidewalk was blocked off, but the cow certainly was quite able to defend her territory and her calf from any pedestrians. She bullied all comers.

Then we were attacked by the happiest dog in the world. This pooch was in a penned off shady backyard. He would take a ball and drop it on the sidewalk, clearly training all passing pedestrians to pick the ball up, then toss it back in the yard. This dog was so full of joy! Wiggly, happy, bursting with enthusiasm. So for about 10 minutes we engaged in a deep dialogue with fido (a German shorthair in extremely good athletic condition), throwing the ball into bushes, trees, benches, and he would retrieve the ball, run to the fence, and drop it at our feet outside the fence. We learned a lot about dog slobber, happiness, and catch. It was a moment of pure delight in the late afternoon in Estes Park. What a perfect metaphor for a perfect life well-lived.

The gallery we went to had some wonderful sculptures and paintings, a little pricey for my pocket book, which was fine with me, and probably a relief for Ron. I don't suppose he'd like a $1250 work of art in the living room. After the gallery, we drove up to Lily Lake and the St. Marys lodge.

We ended up eating dinner at a very nice Mexican restaurant. I thoroughly enjoyed vising Steve and Lesley. I don't get to see them very often. Steve and I have very different views of the world. Sometimes, I feel it gets in the way of our love for each other. I miss the closeness that we once had, but I love him dearly and want him and Lesley to have a wonderful life. I want him to know that I care for him and wish for him the blessings of an abundant life in his faith.

After dinner, I spent a while showing him my pictures of the Glacier trip that Ron and I took. Just going over the pictures with him brings back the trip to me. I told him that the family was planning a similar trip for Yellowstone two years from now. I hope he and Lesley can join the rest of us. I'm going to do what I can to get them there.

Then I came back to the hotel, had a beer, and wrote this.