Summer has settled in here in northern Colorado. The days draw warm after cool nights in the high 40’s to mid 50’s. The usual temperatures during the afternoons is in the low to mid 80’s with very low humidity. It’s delightful. Seemingly, every week there has been a new rush of wildflowers blooming, creating a quilt of diverse colors and shades. I think the entire world would wish for summer weather such as we have this year.
Rain has been scarce, though. Most days we see storms gathering on the far side of the mountains but it seldom reaches us here. The main creek just down from our camp site, which once gushed through the willows several feet deep and running madly, has slowed to just a trickle. In early June I actually caught two large trout swimming upstream in its currents. Now, a few stunted trout hatchlings dart around the last of the pools. The lake has dropped a few feet and just this week an algae bloom occurred. Fishing in Steamboat lake is very slow now. Where once we could catch dinner any time we wished, we’ve actually been shut down the last two times we went out searching for a finny dinner. Still, the beauty, the majesty, and the sublime character of the place captures our souls and smooths out the rough edges of consciousness.
We think about the world outside of here. It feels surreal at times. We see such insanity and watch the pandemic continue to roll on the news these days and we can feel its long shadows creeping towards us. We think about our family, our kids and grand kids. We talk to friends around the country and back in St Louis and we wonder how we would be doing, how we would be reacting to the uncertainties rolling over the country. We are trying to be super-careful here in our day to day lives, wearing masks and social distancing while we go about our little jobs and run to town occasionally for supplies. We see folks from all over the US visiting the area. Are they carriers? The international visitors are absent now. Where last year we would see folks from all over the world exploring the American West, there are virtually none this year.
Still, the Park is full. Folks are desperate to get out, to escape into this land that time forgot. It’s the balm that soothes their souls. Veteran volunteers of the Park tell us that it’s never been this full, It’s very understandable. It’s so reassuring to see families here enjoying their time together and appreciating the simple things in life. Simple pleasures. Kids on a bridge with string wrapped around a hot dog catching craw dads from the lake bottom. Mom stretched out on a hammock under a Ramada just day-dreaming while the kids are occupied and entertained by discovering bugs under a log. A dad teaching his daughter how to fish. Grandma and Grandpa relaxing in folding camp chairs lakeside fishing in the sun...or are they really napping? At night dozens of campfires glow as the scent of burning pine hangs low in the trees. Warm laughter creates a soundtrack that is as timeless as it is reassuring during these times of long shadows. Truly, laughter is the medicine of the soul.
Diane and I have lately taken to late afternoon dinners. We’ll finish our meal and sit outside under the awning of our motor home to shade us from the sun. Then, around 6-ish or so, we’ll pack up the dogs and head out on one of the many dirt roads that leads through the forest and the mountains. Most often we’ll find a spot, park the Jeep (Ol’ Tank), and simply hike the dirt road. Though there are many, many trails here, sometimes the vistas from the road are most impressive. Often, we’ll see more wildlife from the road than from the trails, especially at late afternoon or twilight. Some of the roads cut through valleys where seeing big mammals and birds is easier. Sunsets are particularly more appreciable from the road than the forest as well. Plus, most everyone who might be out driving has gone home for the evening. We walk off our dinner and enjoy the world around us as the land’s day shift gives way to the night shift.
Earlier this week we took one such little trip. Driving north on CR 129 where it turns to a dirt road we traced our way through large groves of Aspens flitting in the evening breeze. Small creeks coursed crookedly along the roadside now and again hurriedly trying to connect to the Eagle River, whom itself contributes to the Green River many miles below. We are just barely to the west of the Continental Divide here. Water seems in a hurry to reach the Pacific. Along our way we see a female elk having an evening snack along a creek.
As we continue north we scratch our way through little canyons and hills raising a cloud of dust as our Jeep churns and bounces along the rough road. As we near Wyoming the landscape changes dramatically. Most of the sharp edges of the mountains are smoothed over into rounded hills. The vast panorama of pines and Aspens are replaced by glades of sandstone and low brush. The Eagle River appears, as it has accumulated the water of so many little streams and springs from the Colorado mountain sides. Family ranches appear as we leave the Routt National Forest and enter more broad grasslands. These ranches have been in the same families for decades and in some cases for over a hundred years. A family of skunks appears in fertile grass valley next to the river. One in particular has the longest tail I’ve ever seen on a skunk. A Sharp-shinned hawk is startled by us and bolts in angry earnest from a decades old fence post. Later we see him as a silhouette circling lazily in the western sunset.
As twilight begins to give way to night we start our way back to our campsite. I notice a strong haze coming in from the west. From experience I know this as smoke from a fire. When you’re in the West during the summer haze from fires is a common occurrence. We’ve seen it several times during our travels. It makes for wild sunsets, but it’s scary as well. Fire in the forest is a good thing, until it threatens homes and buildings. This is the first time this summer we’ve encountered the haze.
Along the way we see another female elk, this time with a baby in tow. The mother eyes us warily while the baby turns to the far side of its mother for more protection from the intruders in their world. A mile later we see a red fox race ahead of us on the dark road. He shakes his bushy tail once and disappears into the aspen grove. The forest night shift is taking over control of the land. It’s wonderful to witness.
One of the best aspects of this traveling lifestyle comes in the form of the folks you meet. I’ve probably stated this many times on past blogs, but it remains such a genuine pleasure. Gene and Dianna, our former “neighbors” and fellow camp hosts, have left to go back to Iowa, their home. Gene and Dianna are no exceptions to the new friendships we’ve made on the road. We so look forward to seeing them again...perhaps here at Steamboat Lake next year. Gene and Dianna’s replacements as camp hosts and neighbors arrived the day they left. Mitch and Laura Otaki were here last year and decided to come back for more camp hosting life. They have been a joy to get to know and hang out with. Mitch and I went trout fishing the other day. I showed Mitch a hole I knew of where I had caught a fair amount of Cutthroats and Rainbows. We got there just after sunrise and the lake, Hahn Peak Lake, did not disappoint. Mitch caught his limit, 4, while I landed 2. At that hour we were the only folks out there on the lake. Serenity personified. Bonds of friendship and memories laid down for a lifetime.
This is the week that Leslie Freeman and her son and daughter came to visit us and the area. Leslie and her kids along with Bob O’Neal, their father and Leslie’s former husband, were neighbors of ours back in Kirkwood, Mo. Our kids grew up together for a time in that old neighborhood where so many fond memories remain. Bob has since passed away and all the kids are grown and busy living their lives. Evan is living, working,and studying in Laramie, WY. I’ve read some of his poetry and was really impressed. Evan is working on his second Masters degree to boot. Evan will be a literary force one day soon. His perspectives will be shared avidly I’m sure. Maddy is a very successful electronic music producer. She has performed her music in some huge venues across the country such as Red Rocks, and various municipal auditoriums in front of huge crowds, Her music is all over You tube. She is a pioneer as a woman in her field and has earned a well-deserved high level of respect from her peers and audience. Maddy brought along her boyfriend, Ryan, who is as equally talented as Evan and Maddy, being a jazz music instructor and performer. One of his bands that he has played in for a long time is called, “Motet”. Having had the opportunity to see their videos on line I was blown away by their music. Their style of R&B/Funk is infectious and tight as a snare drum head.
Leslie is a great conversationalist and it is so refreshing to “catch up” with her and the family. Leslie’s intellect is highly tuned and her wit is razor-sharp. while her heart is as big as the great outdoors. We all sat around a campfire the night they all arrived laughing and trading late stories of our lives. It’s interesting...I find when you meet up with old friends often it’s as if you were just with them yesterday. You just pick up where you left off. It’s one of the treasures of friendship. I was fortunate to be able to play guitars and sing with Evan and Ryan around that blazing campfire. The smoke drifted upwards and away dissipating like the many years that had separated us all. The notes of our little jam session mixed with happy voices and stories, while the inexorable march of time and the 21st century disappeared for a while here in the forested mountains.