Rocky Mountain High

Long's Peak, from downtown Estes Park -- Elev. 14255 ft.

ESTES PARK, Colo. -- This is a work in progress, to be completed upon return to the flatlands where the air is hot and heavy with only a gasp of wind trying to move it around. Here, near the mountains in Estes Valley, a hot day is maybe 81 and the humidity rarely gets above 15 per cent. The sun is warm and where we stay the pool is always heated just enough for a comfortable entry. The light breeze sails down from the peaks and keeps one fresh all day long. It whooshs through the pines and firs, often bringing a few clouds in the late morning that gather and provide some light rain in the mid afternoon.

Oh yes, it is pleasant in the mountains. However cold it may be here in the winter, it is picture perfect in the summer. Literally, in fact, picture perfect. God crafted the Rocky Mountains into something as colorful and picturesque as anywhere on earth. Green of the evergreens, pinks and grays of the mountains themselves, bluest of blue skies and white the white of snow caps or foaming water rushing downhill in an alpine river.

Enough of that; there are lots of nice places to vacation.

There are things to be aware of here, if you get out in the remote country: cougars, fast-moving storms with lightening, elk and bears. Cougars are seldom a threat in or near the town, but can wreak havoc if you head up a back-country trail. Elk are everywhere. You need not piss them off. They are large and have enormous antlers and sharp hooves. Now as to the bears, something has changed. I have been coming here for almost all my 59 years and--until last year--have not seen a bear. Now I have.

This is not the first one; that was last year. A shaggy cinnamon bear walked the streets of Estes Park unmolested, and nearly unnoticed, save for my wife who saw it trot by on the sidewalk right in front of her. Faithful readers will recall the bear and his countrymen tried to raid the trash outside our cabin in several noisy episodes.

No, this bear simply stayed a safe distance, presumably with her cubs who popped up occasionally. They made no effort to cross the road and menace us or our refuse.

We surmised the economy has been as hard on the bears as it has on the rest of us, forcing the Park Service to lay some of them off. Thus they come down into the edges of the city, like the Okies of the 1930's heading to California, looking for food and employment. That also is probably why the elk drift into town and graze on peoples' lawns. It is not recorded that either elk or bear has filed for unemployment benefits.

Far and away the most dangerous thing we encountered on the trip was our granddaughter. Annie is a cute, lovely 2-year-old with the disposition of Tyrannosaurus Rex. To add to her resume, she can go without sleep seemingly for a week, which is probably why the bears didn't come near us. A bit of a princess, that girl, but when rested and well fed she is as sweet as can be. Unfortunately on the trip out she ran afoul of the law and spent a few hours in jail.

One of the other wild creatures lives on the mini-golf course which we frequent while in Estes Park. Often mistaken for his smaller cousin the chipmunk, the Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel is ubiquitous, charming and usually hungry. This fellow has taken up summer quarters in a buckent of sunflower seeds, which is about as good a way to vacation as any, I suppose.

Usually we take up residence in Hayley's ice cream and fudge shop, also a good way. Katie and Rob here are working hard to keep Colorado green by causing money to be left there. I know this place is good because the vanilla malts are good. If those are good, everything else will follow in line. I know way too much about this for my own good.

But all good things must come to an end. Seven nights at 7522 feet is fleeting. We have to trade in the 47 degree mornings for Missouri's 80 degree mornings, during which one does not want to work the crossword puzzle out on the deck--no matter how charming the sunlight looks. So we load up the car again and journey back down into the high plains, watching the mountains fade into the haze as we get further east of Denver. After the shock is worn off we can enjoy the trip. Everyone -- well, almost everyone -- helps drive back to KC.

Now we are home and back to cutting grass and other mundane chores that do not involve daily trips to an ice cream shop. There is no anticipation on the trip back, only a little dread of the vacation having ended and the imminent return to work. But there is always the opportunity to be thankful we got to go in the first place, and came home intact: the car undented, the riders healthy and without bear injuries, and actually a few pounds lighter!

And Kansas may not have the majestic mountain peaks which it ceded to Colorado in 1861, but it has a summer vitality all its own, with lots of blue sky too. Hey, if it weren't for Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa and Missouri, who would go to Colorado anyway?