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Golly, it’s been a long short week! No, maybe I should say that this short week has been filled with long trips and lots of miles through several different ecosystems in this beautiful state. It actually feels kinda funny to be sitting still in front of my own computer in my own home and knowing that I’ll be here for a few days. My road buddy and I logged 768 miles in four days this week. Some business, some pleasure and every mile memorable. We drove our own pickup two days, once pulling our 5^th wheel home and once hauling a load of firewood out to Heather’s house. We drove Jim’s service truck one day for a last day of work in Yuma with a side trip to Haxtun and Sterling before another trip back to Denver. We actually stayed home for a day or two before we had the itch for some mountain time and loaded my little car for a long, lovely day in search of a hike and some fishing but managed neither.

The trip home from Yuma was bittersweet after making that little town our home for the entire month of June. We didn’t make lifelong friends but enjoyed conversations with many friendly people in that tight knit community on the plains. We had lots of scary stories to swap with the locals who were as surprised by the wild weather as we were. We watched terrific light shows during evening thunderstorms. We heard thunderous hail and saw more funnel clouds than we’ve ever seen before. Three tornados had touched down within 5 miles of town during those four weeks and we watched the farmer bale hail-ruined wheat into hay.

We will miss the camaraderie with people who squatted in the hospital corridor every few days to wait out the tornado sirens. We’ll miss the wonderful sunsets and the ambience of a sleepy small town. We won’t miss the smell of the feedlot but we’ll laugh when we remember the Rancher who said, “It smells like money to me!” We’ll remember the day we heard an accident on the corner and found a fellow running away from the accident scene. His head was bleeding profusely and he told us, “You didn’t see me…if anybody asks you DID NOT see me!” Jim jumped in the truck and flagged down an officer to point out the man that we “didn’t see.” Turns out he was a local guy and the officers were very concerned when they found blood in the car but no body. My guess was that when he regained consciousness he was leaning on his horn and staring at a bloody windshield. His first instinct was to run home after he ditched the bottle or the drugs he was carrying in his car. He actually re-traced his steps through the wheat field a week after the accident and it looked like he was searching for something. I hope he never finds it. I hope he learned his lesson.

I camped out in Jim’s service truck on the day we went back to Yuma. It was cool and misty and I enjoyed one more walk through town while Jim tied up loose ends. We paid a visit to the football field in Haxtun before the trip home that day. Haxtun is an even smaller farm town than Yuma and Jim drew a lot of attention as he took pictures and stepped off yardage between their broken field lights. After a long day the trip home was filled with the wonder of another spectacular sunset over miles of fragrant sagebrush.

We enjoyed the company of family and friends here at home on Friday but needed a trip to the mountains on Saturday. The Fisherman wanted to drop a line in and the Walker has been dying for a chance to hike the trail to the top of Mt. Royal so she could take some aerial photos of Dillon Reservoir. I’ve seen pictures taken from that aerie and coveted every one. When we lived in Frisco I walked past the trailhead nearly every day but I didn’t want to hike it alone. So we packed the car and headed for Frisco.

As luck would have it there is still snow on the Ten Mile Range but a little snow wouldn’t hurt us. The afternoon thunderclouds were the clincher. After what we went through out on the plains I didn’t want to tempt fate and act as a lightning rod on the top of a mountain. Frisco was busy with tourists so we relived some memories on a short drive through town then headed to Breckenridge. Breck was busy too and the small shops and streets were crowded with people enjoying the cool, sweet air.

Hoosier Pass was scenic and Alma hasn’t grown much since we drove through last time. Fairplay was a good place for a lunch break and we watched the bright flash of a mountain bluebird from our table. The little bird disappeared just minutes before the clouds opened and dumped a good rain. I wondered aloud about the rocky evidence of Placer mining all around the historic town and Jim thought the miners had been after gold but he wasn’t sure.

The rain slowed down some and the air was filled with the heady smells of wet pine and earth and sage. The mountains still think it is spring and the wildflowers carpet so much of the open ground. Yellows and purples and whites in profusion and wild variety. We took a loop through two campgrounds and found dozens of campers. We remembered that it was a long weekend but we were surprised to find both places full because we remember weekends in the past when we would share camp with just a few other souls. We decided that maybe we’ve already lived through the halcyon days of Colorado camping. Back in the days when our kids were growing up we rarely needed a reservation for even the most popular spots and you often wouldn’t find another soul here in Michigan Creek and Meridian. I’m glad to see so many families in camp and realize that these kids will grow up with a love for this scenic beauty just like ours did.

On Sunday we watched the Custom Cutters work the wheat fields all the way to Heather’s house. We had a great playtime with the country grandsons then drove home under rain in the dark golden glow of wet wheat stubble and glistening green clover. The rain shut the field work down for the day and I’m sure the Cutters were working on their machines or maybe just curled up for a short rest in the trailer before the crop dries again.

Here at home I’m finally out of words and ready to sit still again. Or maybe it’s just time to get out for a walk. It’s threatening rain so I might have to settle for the treadmill but I’ll have lots of sense memories to relive from this week of many miles.