After 10 years of teaching middle school science, 8 years of home ownership and numerous other life events, I came to the realization that I needed a break. From everything. So I quit my job, sold my house, and purged most of my belongings. Let's see what happens next...
Part 2 of 3 from my road trip to Colorado in early June. I find that I do not like spending lots of hour on my computer daily. Since I've been needing to do a lot of other tasks, such as job searches and online tutoring, I am behind on finishing this.
My brother is awesome. My sister is, too, but this post is about him. When we were kids, he was is the Boy Scouts and did waaay more camping than I ever did. As I began doing more backpacking and taking longer trips, he was super helpful. Before I hit the road last summer, he taught me how to throw bear bags. He's also a great sounding board as I'm going through all I need to do to be prepared. Or when I feel compelled to mock the stupidity of the people I encounter. Between the shared enjoyment of the outdoors and a similar temperament, I see reminders of him everywhere. This was especially true my last few days in Colorado.
Grimy hair and a happy smile at 15,000 feet
(Some day I will learn to adjust my waistband and minimize my muffin top before photos!)
After leaving Black Canyon of the Gunnison, I took scenic route to the town of Creede, an old silver mining town recommended by a friend. Tucked in between mountains, it is a great place to explore.
Downtown Creede and a very good boy waiting for his owner to finish shopping.
A cliff-side gardener
(She noticed me taking pictures and laughed, saying "I was bent over pulling weeds!
I assured her I waited until she was standing.)
The stream was fast and furious with snow melt.
The juxtaposition of the steep mountains and fast water
were difficult for my dizzy brain.
I could say a lot more about my experience there than there is space in this blog post. The important thing is that in among the fly-fishing stores and tasty restaurants, the was an olive oil shop. My brother loves olive oil shops. I think seeing the Creede Olive Oil Co was the moment I wished my brother was on this trip, too.
I took this photo expressly for my brother
Later that afternoon, I decided to go on a hike in the surrounding mountains. Choosing a 2.7 mile high-altitude hike, I arrived at the trailhead to learn that it was actually 7.2 miles one way. Blaming vertigo-induced idiocy for the mistake, I decided to forgo the hike all together. It was already after 5 and 14.4 miles round trip is a lot longer than 2.7. Besides, my judgement clearly wasn't at its sharpest.
View of the Rio Grande from the road down from the trailhead
Laughing at myself on the drive down, I could totally hear my brother say, "Dork!" Yeah, he's really supportive like that.
The Friends examining splintered deer bones.
My brother recommended Nick Fury for his son.
The next day, after a night of healthy sleep, I continued east and to Great Sand Dunes National Park. Earlier in my planning, I didn't think I would go. I'd been there three times before. There are other things to see and explore. However, as I was working out my route, I felt them calling me. I really like that place and wanted to see them again. Besides, the last time I went I was at the edge of seventeen. (Okay, I was fully seventeen, but you get what I was going for).
It was a weird feeling driving up to the dunes and seeing how familiar they looked. There is strange dichotomy with sand dunes, because they are always changing, but their general layout stays the same. It added a little nostalgia to my usual reflections.
Being early June, and after a very snowy winter, the seasonal Medano Creek was quite wide and rapid. When I was four, and again when I was seventeen, we were lucky enough to see the creek in late summer. It was a lot warmer and smaller, since it's usually dried up by then. I imagine, given the wetness of 2019, the creek stuck around this summer, too.
The seasonal, snow-melt creek was full of visitors and brisk water.
While I enjoyed squishing my way through the chilly, sandy water, I did not enjoy the crowds right at the entrance. I opted to head upstream towards the mountains. The (slight) remoteness appealed to me.
Heading up and away from the crowds
Loving that the temperature was perfect for walking barefoot, I was reminded of the time in 2002 I went to Bruneau Dunes in Idaho with my brother. That was a great day. The biggest highlight was following badger tracks for a really long time chanting "badger badger badger badger". This was years before either of knew the Badger Song existed. We never did find the badger, which is probably just as well.
Imagine thunder rumbling in the back ground
Laughing at badger-related memories, I realized that this was my first visit to sand dunes without my brother. (Correction: mountain or desert sand dunes. My brother wasn't with me when I went to Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan last summer. Being along a lake and covered in patches of grass, they had a different feel).
As one of daily pop-up thunderstorms approached, I wished my brother was here this time, too, so he could help me decide if it was safe to stay out.
Sand Dune Picnic 2019
Because of the high winds and approaching storm, this was more rushed than
our 2018 picnic at Sleeping Bear Dunes.
My first instinct was to to keep going. By this point, the wind picked up by so much the sand was being whipped around and stung as it hit me. Continuing toward the mountains meant it would be hitting me in the face. Considering a number of factors, including my recent bout with vertigo and a deep-seated desire not to be a complete dumb ass, I decided to head back. As soon as I turned around, there was a huge clap of of thunder and rain started, the drops stinging more that the sand. I laughed as I held onto my visor. The whole situation was really quite fun. I sang to myself as I trekked. It wasn't exactly the them from Lawrence of Arabia, but it was definitely just as epic (advance to 1:55).
Since these storms are brief but mighty, it was over by the time I reached the creek again. I took my time, playing in the surges that occur as the water builds small dams then bursts through them.
Surging water
A little disappointed I'd turned back, I decided to try my hand at reaching the top of Star Dune, the tallest in the park. This was a precarious decision. I knew the climb was within my normal physical abilities. But with the vertigo and the delay in feeling crummy after over-doing it, there was a risk.
Screw the vertigo. I was here and feeling good. I was tired of feeling restricted.
On my way up, I passed several features that look familiar. This was a section of the dunes we had climbed on previous visits. This time was a lot more pleasant because it wasn't anywhere near as hot. The sand was cool, not scalding. The frequent rains made it more compact and the hills easier to climb. In fact, on previous visits, the sun was so hot and the sand so loose, we didn't make it to the top.
The upper ridge leading to Star Dune
I felt better about my overall condition seeing how winded many of the other folks were.
At the top of Star Dune - so worth it!
The funny thing about the sand dunes reminding me so much of my brother is that while I'd been there with him three times, I really didn't spend a lot of time with him. Our first visit was when I was four and he was two. So of course we were together, but clearly, as a preschooler, I was too sophisticated to care what a mere toddler was up to. On our second visit, when I was ten and he was eight, it was probably a similar situation. I was also likely preoccupied with how our little sister, then four, was getting along. Our final visit as a family, the one when I was seventeen, I remember clearly sticking with my sister and both of us being seriously annoyed at our brother for running off without us.
With that memory of annoyance in the back of my mind as I walked back down, it was with great joy that I passed a familiar-looking basin. Twenty-three years earlier, in an effort to show off, my brother had accidentally tumbled down its sides to the bottom. I laughed out loud as I recalled his goofy foolishness. I don't remember what he was trying to do - good chance some cute girls were nearby - but that hardly matters.
Windblown and back at the car, I was glad I came. Even though he wasn't there, it was nice spending time with my brother. He's a good guy.
Wind and rain and sand give quite the beauty treatment.
And with that, my time in the mountains of Colorado came to an end. (c:
Edit - Here's picture of my brother and I when we were around the ages of our first trip to Colorado and the sand dunes:
