Someone very special, my husband’s sister Connie Atkinson, died recently and she knew exactly what she wanted to have happen after her death. She had her funeral arrangements mapped out, but she also planned a trip for the people she loved best to follow. We were all to take a trip to Colorado together and she would provide the means, posthumously. So we came together and celebrated her life and then we continued on together thinking of her while we enjoyed a vacation that none of us will ever forget. I know she would be pleased. Thank you so much Connie, wherever you are.
If someone offers you a trip to Colorado accept immediately because the state is blessed with jaw droppingly beautiful scenery and fascinating history. Traveling during the “mud season” — between the end of winter and the beginning of summer when the ice is melting — has some real advantages: 1) it’s cheaper and 2) it’s a lot less crowded. The skiers, snowboarders and snow bunnies are gone and the hikers, mountain climbers, bike riders, campers and rafters have just begun to arrive. The wildflowers are blooming. The state flower is the Columbine and you can see them here and there. But gigantic dandelions are everywhere. I heard one little boy apologize as he stepped on a thick carpet of them, “Sorry Dandelions.”
Class-one bike riders (you pedal but get an assist from a battery) hit the trails. Our relatives covered 40 miles in one day which is a lot at such a high elevation. Trails are everywhere. You can hike all the way up to 14,000 feet if you dare. These tallest mountains are called the “Fourteeners” and there are 58 of them in the state of Colorado. One of our party, a very fit fireman who is a bit of a mountain goat, made it to 12,000 feet where he found snow and real mountain goats waiting for him.
Seven of us stayed in a comfortable condo two blocks from historic downtown Breckenridge which is filled with old buildings and their venerable histories dating back to the gold rush mining days of the 1800s. Breckenridge has gone from prospectors with pick-axes and gold pans living in log cabins to real estate developers and vacationers living in upscale condos and second homes.
The air is a bit thin. In driving from Denver at 5,000 feet to Breckenridge at 9,000 feet, you feel the effects of the altitude including some headaches, shallow breathing and trouble sleeping. There are three oxygen bars in town where — for a price — they will oxygenate your blood or you can buy a portable can of oxygen and suck in some extra oxygen when needed. They say that you adjust, but in the five days we were there we never really did.
Despite the oxygen shortage we enjoyed ourselves immensely, exploring the sights, checking out the history, walking the trails, biking and sharing meals at the condo. At the halfway point in our trip we descended to the Red Rock Amphitheater at 6,500 feet for a spectacular view of the Platte River with Denver, the mile high city, below us and 10 miles distant looking like the Emerald City from the Wizard of Oz. At the concert Sheryl Crow serenaded us along with two sisters/singers called Larkin and Poe. Sheryl is a warm and energetic performer who seems to be ageless. After dark they subtly light the rocks around the amphitheater producing a rosy glow that is completely captivating. The concert was great and the crowd was mellow. Especially charming was a raccoon who installed himself in a trash can where he calmly supported a slice of pizza with his tiny hands and toes and daintily munched away as we concert-goers filed by.
Next up: “Rocky Mountain Higher”: a description of the train ride from Granby, Colorado back to Emeryville, California, and some interesting personalities from Colorado’s rough and ready past and some fascinating aspects of Colorado history.
I spend a week in Breckenridge back in my 20s. Spectacular town and surroundings. However, driving around the area in winter, especially on the highways, was a white knuckle affair.
I went to the “front range” once to see my cousin marry a mormon chick. It was kinda nice but if you are from Mendo, anywhere else is kinda nice. It was cold and dry and full of hillbillies. Just like John Elway’s steakhouse.