Mt. Evans

The entry gate stands at 8,150 feet above sea level. The top rises to 14,240. The road between is only fifteen miles. That is quite a grade, with a few switchbacks. It is probably the scariest driving I have ever done. The road is quite narrow. There are no shoulders or guardrails. If you click on the picture below, you will see the oncoming car. I took my half out of the middle until we met a car. If it was a suburban, I just stopped as far over as I dared. The craziest thing was that the place was crawling with bikers--both kinds. The pedalers were truly crawling and gasping by the time they reached the summit.

The views are incredible.

At one time, there was a house on top of Mt. Evans.

This is what was left after the propane tank exploded.

It is real, this altitude sickness. We did not stay all that long at the summit. Floridians are used to much more air and water in our air. And besides the afternoon thunderstorms were starting to roll in.

But what an experience! Everyone (but the truly acrophobic) should do this at least once.

Mailbox Monday: Mosaic Mailbox

A Teacher's Memories of 9/11

This morning, I looked in my old journals to see what I had written about September 11th. I was very surprised when I found nothing. Not a word. But then I realized that it was so painful, so shocking that (like my mother's death) I have recorded nothing on  paper. There were simply no words at the time that expressed my response to it. And too, there was so much print and discussion devoted to it. What could be said that had not already been recorded?

Every American on the planet, old enough to remember, knows where they were  on September 11th, ten   years  ago. We remember when we first learned  of the series of attacks on our country. The disbelief. The shock. The fear of "what next? where next?". These feelings would continue in those coming weeks and indeed, in a way, we would never be the same again.  

I was in my classroom with my new crop of kindergartners. The school intercom announced that all teachers should read their email and that is how I learned of the plane crashes. There was an empty classroom adjoining my office. Someone had turned on the TV on low in there and I watched it while my children had lunch in the cafeteria. Some parents checked their children out of school and took them home.  I had a faithful volunteer who sent me a message that he would not be in to help, but would instead be flying to the Pentagon for duty as an Air Force Reservist. I remember thinking, "All these people are trying to get out of D. C. ---and he is flying in." (He lost friends that day.) I also had a kindergartner who was on a trip to Washington with her family and it was days before we knew that they were fine. I have a number of relatives in the D. C. area and, gradually, we would learn that they were all safe as well.

On September 12, we all came back to school again. We were told to let the children draw pictures of the attack if they wanted to. I remember thinking one little boy had seen WAY too much television coverage as he drew the people jumping out of the windows of the burning towers.

I chose the following song as part of our morning activities:

When the world seems like it's falling down, 

Don't let the blues get to you,

Chase away your frown.

Your troubles won't last forever, 

So get yourself together!

Come on and sing a happy song.....

The life of a five-year-old usually moves on quickly and I needed to be prepared to keep up. 

But it was years before a plane could cast its noonday shadow on the playground (where I was out with my class) and not cast a shadow on my heart. 

Those sweet things are now in high school. I see a couple of them off and on. I wonder what they remember about those days. And I wonder if the love and respect, compassion and forgiveness that I teach  to each class each day can help to stop the evil and destruction, hatred and greed in a world that is so large. 

It's certainly worth a try.

Leadville, CO

Leadville claims to be the highest incorporated city in the United States (10,430 feet elevation). One of its nicknames is The Two Mile City. It was a wild boomtown in the 1880s and made its fortune in silver, which was mined in a heavy carbonate of lead. Because so many Colorado towns already had silver in their names, the locals settled on Leadville. 

In the 1860s, gold was discovered nearby and thousands came to the valley for their share. There is said to have been more than 6,000 prospectors; roughly eight million dollars in gold was taken. It lasted about six years.

Silver replaced it in 1877 with the discovery of one of the richest and most famous silver districts.  By 1880, it was one of the world's  largest silver mining camps with a population of over 40,000. (Less than 3,000 live there now.) Leadville produced over seven million dollars worth of the metal. This old photo shows workers loading silver bars.

With the likes of resident Doc Holliday and other less notorious outlaws, Leadville has seen some wild, Wilde days. In 1882, Oscar Wilde lectured at the opera house while on tour. Wilde later recounted a visit to a local saloon, "where I saw the only rational method of art criticism I have ever come across. Over the piano was printed a notice--'Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing  his best.'" Apparently, the town was full of saloons and red-light districts. It has been estimated that at its peak, the town was consuming over 200 kegs of beer a day. During World War II, Leadville was a popular spot for visits by soldiers at nearby Camp hale, but only after the town acted to curb prostitution; until then, the Army had declared the town off-limits for its personnel.

The sidewalks are raised high from the road.

I liked the hitching rings.

These full-size hatchets were door pulls on a cabinet in one shop we visited.

We had been told we had to eat dinner in Leadville at a place called Quincy's Steaks and Spirits. Well, our timing was a little off and we arrived mid-afternoon. It rained off and on as we skipped between the little shops on the main street, passing the time. In fact as we waited for the restaurant to open at five, it rained so that we sat on the wall in our raincoats with the hoods up so as to be one of the first inside. We were hungry, having had little for lunch, and we were not at our destination for the night.

We found the restaurant to be all it had been advertised to be. It had the feeling of an old saloon and I swear it could have been an updated Miss Kitty efficiently running the place. (For you youngsters, she was a character on the popular TV show, Gunsmoke.) On the ends of each booth were jacket hooks. B's red rain jacket is hanging in the picture. Note the tin tiled ceiling and the antique chandelier.

The menu is limited to steak or vegetable lasagna for entrees, with potato, salad and rolls. Beer, wine and other spirits were available. It was a good meal for a great price and served in a very reasonable time. Within a minute of opening their door, they had filled every table. Apparently, the word spreads. There are one or two other locations in the state.

 Leadville was a fun place.

Making a Pass Or Two At Colorado

On our Colorado trip, we drove  both Independence Pass and  Loveland Pass. These are very high and narrow old roads that take advantage of natural openings in the mountains. They both peak above the tree line and it was very windy and raining at both places when we were there.

Click on the picture below so that you can read both signs.

Below is looking around one of the numerous hairpin turns; many were blind, but this one was open. Guardrails were few and far between.

Here are a few shots from Independence Pass. The first is at the peak at the Continental Divide. It is a little higher than Loveland Pass

This is coming down looking at our road ahead. 

Not bad scenery for your white-knuckle driving.

A Few More Maroon Bells Notes

As we hiked through the valley at the Maroon Bells, we heard voices on the slope above us.

A zoom lens shows the hikers standing where (we assume) an avalanche had made a clearing of crushed rock.

Check out these big evergreens.

I think it is a fir; the cones were blue, blue.

This stump reminded me of a unicorn or a goat or a turkey head.

Our trail followed the stream for a ways.

Close the center at the  top of the picture  below, you can see the snow in the crevice on the mountainside that may well be the source of the stream.

Put Maroon Bells on your life list to see for yourself!

The Flowers at the Maroon Bells

 In the West, we are totally out of our element and knew very few of the flowers and trees we saw. (Whereas in the southeast, we are able to identify most of what we see.) We did not let that keep us from enjoying all of the stunning beauty all around us.  On our hike at the Maroon Bells, we reveled in the wildflowers galore! We saw all of these ---and more!

We climbed to a high meadow where columbine bloomed everywhere we looked.

What a wonderful memory of our trip!