Happy Day

For the third week in a row, weather and circumstance has kept me from hiking Byers Peak. But Sailda Dara and I took advantage of this soupy-sky day to hike to Columbine Lake. It was a beautiful climb up a mountain valley alongside a gushing stream. Wildflowers abounded — Indian paintbrush, aster, arnica, parrot's peak, elephant's head ... yellow, purple, orange, fuchsia, red, white, green. As we neared treeline, rock cliffs jutted into the low clouds along the valley's edges, leaving us to imagine what the peaks looked like. Definitely have to go back and find out.

We had a huge egg and potato breakfast for lunch and, later, we took the kids for a quick hike up in Rocky Mountain National Park. Twas a perfect day as far as I'm concerned.

Spring sprung

Spring has hit Granby, Colo. For you east coasters, it's not exactly the kind of spring you might imagine. No daffodils or azaleas blooming here. It's practically Wyoming, after all. Spring is sagebrush, wildflowers and mud.

In the mountain towns of Colorado, spring is more rightly known as mud season. Every place has its weather demons. In many places, it's the wind. The Santa Anna's in Southern California are known to drive folks mad, just as summer's eternal light in Northern Alaska acts like PCP.


In the mountains of Colorado, it's mud season that brings out the crazy in people. Those with money or seasonal jobs flee for places warmer. My washing machine repair man (long story) was beginning a two week vacation as he left my house the other day. His plan — drive south. That was it. No plan. No destination. Just. Flee.

When mud season hits, restaurants shut down, shops board up, the town gets quiet. Those who stay are bombarded with the seasonal tease of 65 degree weather followed by freezing temperatures and 12 inches of snow. In 4-hour stretch last Friday, we had every type of weather imaginable — wind, rain, sleet, hail, thunderstorm, snow, fog and sun. Talk about getting caught up in the Cuisinart of the weather gods. Sure, we got 12 inches of snow in 48 hours, but it's spring snow and by nature melts (almost) as fast as it falls. By this afternoon, it was gone.


These photos are from a hike I took this afternoon — just mud, melting snow and a sure sign of spring — wild crocus (aka Pasque flower).

The other half

While we are having these GRAND COUNTY adventures, Scott is still in Pierce-ville dealing with cleaning the house, packing up the last of the stuff and taking care of a rather long 'honey-do' list on the house before the renters move in Oct. 10. He's feeling left behind (stranded in Pierce-ville as he writes) and is bummed to be missing all the firsts - first hike, first snow, first sight of Colorado peaks. But, he shouldn't be too bummed to be missing first night of High Altitude Insomnia or the second night, or the third. Nor should he feel too bummed to be missing out on Arden's first week sleeping on a mattress on the floor (a.k.a. trampoline). Or Sawyer's long stream (excuse the pun) of potty accidents this week. I'm sure it's not fun place to be, left behind to scrape the sticky stuff off the refrigerator shelves. There's no glory in hauling trash and bagging up empty hangers off the closet rods. I have to give him props too, because he's already made one haul across country to rent the house and move all our stuff in so that when we arrived last Saturday we could pretty much just lay down our heads. (And his reward for getting all that crap done will be the opportunity to make a second haul across country with a truck that has 180,000 miles pulling a trailer!) We are routing for him to get it all done this week and to sell those last few anchors weighing him down in order to get on the road! He has mountains to conquer in the process, both literal and metaphorical, but it will be well worth it in the end. Here's a little cheer from the stands. Go Daddy Go!



ps - Mimi's birthday is in January and Pop Pop's is in August. So go figure.