It always surprises me when I download photos from my camera to discover pictures that Tom has taken without my knowing it. Debby, clearly this little visitor to The Compound is for you.
Before Tim and I took our recent trip to Colorado, I purchased a couple of things for my camera–an extra rechargeable battery and a case for my 55/200 lens, because I knew I was going to want it to home in on faraway sights–I was sure I could spot a climbing goat or a ram on the hillsides, as every time Tom and I have traveled in that direction, we’ve seen lots of wildlife. Tim and I had to make an extra trip from Denver to Aspen (“had to,” like it’s a chore to go to OMG-so-beautiful Aspen), and Lynne told me to be alert to an animal observation point on that route. I swear we were just past it, and I was looking at the other side of the road, when Tim directed my attention to a group of mountain goats right next to us–too close for me to get even a quick shot as we went past them. Do you think I ever saw another damn goat or a sheep? I did not.
I did get a blurry photo of some elk as we whizzed by them.
And these are dinosaurs. I mean the toys on the cake, of course, not the ever youthful Rhonda!
Here are a few shots from the highway on the road to Aspen. I call the filter I was using “bug splattered windshield.”
But probably the best shots I could have taken didn’t happen because not only was I so rigid with fear that I wouldn’t look out the window, but I certainly couldn’t have captured those moments for posterity. I call it the Trail of Terror.
I grew up in the Appalachian foothills. I’ve driven through the Blue Ridge, Smoky, and Allegheny mountains. Though those mountains aren’t as soaring as the Rockies, it’s not like I haven’t had experience riding and driving along curving roads at impressive heights. I even rode up a mountain on the back of a motorcycle without a qualm. But I’ve been living as a flatlander now for so many years that mountain driving makes me edgy at best, and at worst…
See, there was no reason to go all the way back to Denver from Aspen, as we were heading toward home. The road that would have shaved some miles, Independence Pass, was still closed (and I’m probably glad of that, all things considered), but there was another route that took us through over some mountain the most terrifying ride of my life. I don’t know how high up we were, and I could tell you the road, but since I came home and mapped it and looked at the entire route via satellite photos, I can assure you that pictures do not do it justice. Poor Tim was driving an empty Sprinter van (very tall and light) along this winding goat path mountain road (two lanes) with a passenger who was having an all-out panic attack. And whenever I would tell myself, “This is as bad as it gets,” we’d happen upon another sign indicating Deer Crossing (“If you see a deer, Tim, hit that bastard; please don’t swerve!”) or Road damage ahead, which elicited, “You have GOT to be kidding” from me. Because he didn’t have enough to do just trying to keep us alive, Tim kept reassuring me, “It’s just a road, Becky.” Right. A road from which I CAN PLUMMET TO MY DEATH ANY MINUTE. But he was doing a truly heroic driving job and then I felt us going around another curve and suddenly from next to me I heard the quietest voice say, “I can do this.” I opened my eyes and saw a bridge and that was enough for me to close them again without checking out the Gorge of Certain Death. “You can do this,” I agreed.
I found some photos on the Internet and I know it probably doesn’t look like much when you’re safely in front of your computer. But imagine yourself a little bitty speck on that bridge near dusk with no idea how high up you are. NEVER AGAIN.
Deep breath. Look: more cute puppies!
On one of our gas stops, when I climbed out of the van, my camera strap caught on my purse and rolled out with me, hitting the concrete. I immediately grabbed it and took a couple of shots using both flashes, and everything seemed to be working okay. But I didn’t realize my lens cap had popped off and probably rolled under the van. So when I got home, I went to Houston Camera Co-op where the woman behind the counter found another lens cap, not a Nikon but one that will attach to my lens or camera so I won’t lose it again.
And she blew the dust out of my camera and lenses and sold me a new and better UV filter because mine was pretty scratched up. And it seems to be shooting good photos, including this box of goodies from Rob E and a couple of post cards from Marika. THANKS! It’s exciting to get mail. On the VERY FLAT RIDE from my house to the post office.
Thanks for today’s post. I needed a good laugh to brighten yet another rainy day. I dislike narrow roads and high altitudes, too. Did I remember to include the planting instructions for the bulbs?
No, I was going to ask you about that. Thank you so much for everything! I had fun exploring the contents.
love the shots of the rockies! does my heart good.
They are so beautiful to look at. And being around all that rock recharged me. There’s magic in those hills!
and, the puppies made my heart sing!
Puppies are better than chocolate!
I visited Denver and Colorado Springs several times when i worked for CO … loved it, so gorgeous … glad you got to make the trip. And what a haul from the post office!
We lived in Colorado Springs when I was a toddler. My earliest memories are from there.
Tom and I drove from SLC to Denver on one of our trips, and we’ve also gone through CO from WY back to Texas. It’s really a beautiful state.
My A/C guy just wanted to know if I’d gone to any of the “dispensaries” when Tim and I were there. I didn’t know what he meant at first!
Those dispensaries are popping up all over COS, Manitu, Cripple Creak, etc. I have no interest in any of them, and I don’t understand the profiling other states do to CO because of it. It’s not like those states don’t have their own problems with drugs, etc.
COS, CO, has its nice points, I have to admit. I still prefer Blacksburg, VA, which is 2/3 the altitude but still mountainous in the Appalachians Blue Ridge. We had snow on Mother’s Day! Snow! I’m still so used to months of winter, one week of spring, more months of summer than winter, one week of fall and year round humidity.
I just looked this up. Blacksburg is 2133 feet above sea level and Colorado Springs is 6033 feet. Pike’s Peak is 14,115 feet (or 141,150 toes) above sea level.
On the bridge, we were somewhere between 8,750 and 10,152 feet above sea level (judging from closest towns), and I think the bridge is about 200 feet above the Eagle River. TOO HIGH.
LOL!!! I can just close my eyes and be in the van with you two! I did exceptionally well in CO and almost made it to the top of Pike’s Peak… almost. When I realized how high I was and that I – me – myself – alone – just me – was going to have to drive back down that blasted mountain I began to panic. I found a wide place to turn around. I dared to get out of the car and take a couple of pictures. Once I realized I was above everything, but the last peak and heaven, itself, I jumped back in the car and talked myself down. Those are the kind of trips where, with Craig driving, I could look around and enjoy the scenery. From the car.
I “enjoyed” staring at the dashboard and willing us safely off that mountain. And it still cracks me up that I told Tim to hit a deer–like someone who grew up driving on snow and ice with moose lurking everywhere doesn’t know how not to panic at animals on the road.
I would never, ever have driven up Pike’s Peak because I heard my mother’s story about doing that drive. I think she may have gotten braver as she aged. I have gotten more timid.
My Dad insists that one day, to rhyme with “one day, bam! …,” he will drive his Honda Element up to Pike’s Peak. Personally, I prefer the cog railway ride to Pike’s Peak, but I do wish there was more time allowed to the visit of the mountain top per ride. Definitely bring oxygen! 🙂
We won’t let him drive on that road, but I have read that bicycling clubs will race down the mountain on that road.
they have automobile races on that road…
bunch of sickos….
Right?!?
Whoosh! 🙂
The bridge looks quite fear inducing. Not sure I could have made the drive over it, but sometimes you have no other choice. This past summer, I went to Portland OR for a wedding and visited Mt. Hood. Being a fellow flat lander I was not accustomed to high altitude. I felt terrible. Beautiful scenery from your trip. Glad you made it back safely.
Thanks, Lynn! Other than Mt. Hood, how did you like the Northwest? It’s the only region of the country I’ve never visited.
I really enjoyed Portland. There are independent brew pubs that are fun. Multnomah Falls was beautiful, as well as, the Columbia River Gorge. I also went to Haystack Rock @ Cannon Beach and saw fireworks over the Willamette river. The Saturday Market was definitely worth going to for the sheer volume of talented craftspeople.
Given the chance to go again, my bags are packed! Go if you can and I think you will agree.
I definitely will!
I’m sorry I have been absent for so long. I am really looking forward to reading about what you have been up to – not least your adventures in Colorado. Those bridges and mountains look amazing!
You have been a bit busy! I hope to post more photos soon.
I miss the mountains!
I usually prefer to drive myself and have my fate in my own hands. 🙂 (Plus my motion sickness is in control when I’m concentrating on driving.) Of course, it’s hard to gawk at the scenery and make the curves, too. There’s a road we used to take from Cody to Cooke City, Montana when I lived out there. It was a logging road, nice and twisty turny, with no or few guard rails. Sure was purty, though!
We took the cog railway when we went to the top of Pikes Peak. I think a long time ago I posted a pic of Danielle grinning ear to ear and Jeff looking sicker than a dog. (He got my stomach.) I know they at least used to have a race to the top.
Had I been driving, we’d still be up there. Well, I’d have walked down to get off that mountain. So I guess the van would be there until some braver soul went to get it.
I am NEVER going up Pike’s Peak. I am positive of this. Although Lindsey did advance an idea last week. When you get really old, that’s the time to do daredevil stuff. If it doesn’t work out, you’ve exited the planet with a bit of glory!
Aw, come on! They’re not that bad. On a trip with Zeke to to Breckenridge, we went up the backside of an 11,000 footer to the top on snowmobiles. We did have a guide. The only ominous moment came when our guide said, “It’s a three-hour tour; a three-hour tooouuur.”
You are bolder than I! An adventurer! I am but a simple country girl…a flatlander girl.