Saving the Best Until Last? – Flood Family Adventures

It’s nearly time for this good thing to come to an end. Time to go back to work and help pay the bills. But before Monday arrives, we’ve still got some traveling to do.The trip from Durango to Estes Park (northwest of Denver) was quite long, but offered consistently beautiful mountain scenery. With the exception of the first day of this adventure, we haven’t seen a drop of rain. Crisp blue skies tend to help everything look better. Given that one of the main attractions in this road trip (and any Floodcation) is the scenery, the drive went by reasonably smoothly. Smooth enough that we decided to add on an extra 45 minutes by taking a scenic route up to Estes, rather than the Interstate through Denver and Boulder. The mountains near Durango looked a lot like the Canadian Rockies — big, rocky and gray with lots of green trees; the mountains in the middle were taller, but not quite as pretty. As we neared Rocky Mountain National Park, things started to look a bit more Canadian again. That’s always a good thing.

Only stopped twice during the 9 hour drive; some surprisingly tasty Mexican food in Poncha Springs (where?) and a completely unnecessary Brownie Sundae in Nederland (where I didn’t see any Dutch people).

Friday night in Estes Park was nice. Good quick meal, and a walk around the town. Elk on the golf course, elk drinking straight out of the river. Touristy feel, but not too many tourists. Chilly. Fresh mountain air.

Saturday. My last full day in the Southwest. Go big or go home. Actually, go home regardless, so might as well go big. It was a tough call, but I decided to skip the daily drive, and instead went hiking. I had heard through the grapevine that there was a good little hike with some great scenery not far from town. East facing rocks. That means you need early morning light. That means that my always-willing-to-help Dad offered to get up at 6am and drive me out to the park.

It was cold. Elk were everywhere, again. So were the deer and turkeys this time too. Park was empty. Trail was empty. Trail was making my flatlander legs and lungs screech. I had more than 7 hours until Dad would return to pick me up (they had a long drive planned), so I was in no real hurry.

It’s hard to explain just how much I enjoyed being in the cool mountain air. It smells SO good. Maybe I should just bring home a suitcase of pine needles and cedar branches.

Great smells, sounds of melting glacier water trickling downhill … birds and squirrels chirping and chattering. All so cliche, but all so good. Every time I go to the mountains, it’s the same thing. I’m a certified flatlander, but it feels so natural when I’m in the mountains. Some day, some how, I will live in the mountains. I have to.

Back to the hike. Three alpine lakes, each at a higher elevation than the other. The trail is set up so that as you first see each of the lakes, the impressive Hallett Peak is set in the background. It’s almost too beautiful to believe. As the hours passed, the crowds grew and the serenity faded somewhat, but not enough to ruin the feeling.

Words can’t do this place justice. Enjoy a few thousand words in picture form.