Look out! I suggest you try not to hit to the left side.
You WILL be out.
In the late winter and spring of 1975, I was trying to decide where to go for a vacation that summer. I liked canoeing and camping, and thought about a trip to Florida's Everglades National Park. I was also interested in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, as I had never seen mountains, having grown up in northern Illinois. About the highest elevation you ever got to in Illinois, was when you helped replace shingles on your parents roof. I can't now remember why I opted for Colorado. Once I experienced the western mountains, thoughts of travelling anywhere east lost all attraction. The contrasts from where I grew up were huge. There was sage and pine instead of corn and elms. The streams were crystal clear instead of the color of coffee with extra cream. The air was dry, not humid, and comfortable 70s during the day. Nights were crisp. There was snow on the peaks even in July and August. Hikes taken at high elevation, often crossed snow fields. When backpacking, you could catch a trout at noon, bury it in snow, and cook it for dinner.
In 1977, I veered more northward, into Wyoming. The mountains aren't as tall as in Colorado, but there were a lot less people and development. In 1979, I went backpacking in the Beartooth Mountains along the Wyoming/Montana border, and then on up to Glacier National Park at the Canadian border. The elevations there are not as high, but because you are further north, the tree line is lower, and there were glaciers all around. There were even less people and development there. In those years, you would be hard put to find a fast food place anywhere around Glacier. People said "if you want to see what Colorado was like 20 years ago, go to Wyoming. And if you want to see what Wyoming was like 20 years before that, go to Montana."
Now it is different. If you were never in Glacier National Park in the 70s, you can't see it now, at least not quite in the same way. The glaciers are disappearing. The sad thing is, I am responsible. I drove my CO2 belching 1977 Buick Special across the country to see the glaciers. We are all responsible.
In the animation below, watch what happens to the glaciers between 1980 and 2010. Then, watch them disappear between 2020 and 2030.
It makes me wonder what other things my sons won't see. And what things they will see, that they'll wish they never saw.
http://wilderness.org/content/sad-day-when-no-glaciers-exist-glacier-national-park
There is a one week lull between the end of Tyler's basketball season, and the start of the baseball season. This is the week, March 5 - 9. Last week there were 2 basketball games, 2 band concerts, a counselor meeting, and a baseball practice. This week...nothing. Next week baseball tryouts start. So, for the next 5 days, I am not a taxi driver and spectator. Yippee! One week of calm, and then the big push until summer will start.
Zach graduates in 2012. For more than 17 years, this guy has made being a dad easy.
Its that time of year when all the leaves need to be raked. I'm not raking them. Hope a big wind comes and blows them into the neighbors yard.
Tyler made the high school basketball team. So, now each night will include taxi service to the practices, followed by AP History homework, AP Statistics homework, and Language Arts homework. We'll be lucky to squeeze in some time to eat.
The web cams at Winter Park and Copper Mountain show people skiing already. Wish we were there.
Last fall, while cleaning out the garage, I found a box containing many of the old 35mm slides that I had taken back in the 1970 and 80s. I picked a few out and had them digitized at the local photo shop. One of them, I didn't remember that I even had, is the photo currently in the website heading (or here). I wrote about the location in this photo back in September of 2009. The story is here.
The photograph was taken above timberline on the Beartooth Plateau in Montana (Latitude: 45.055399 Longitude: -109.628137) . The distant peaks are to the southwest in Wyoming, bordering on Yellowstone National Park. You can see a little haze in the distance, which was caused by smoke from the forest fires that had just begun in Yellowstone. The year was 1988, famous for the fires that burned large areas of the park.
I am not in the photo, but my yellow Jansport backpack is there leaning against the rock near Tim Smith, a friend from Mt. Morris, Illinois. He, Teresa (eventually to become Tim's wife) and Mark and Phyllis were from Minneapolis. We had stopped for a lunch break, before carefully negotiating the scree slope heading down to the valley seen in shadow on the lower right of the photo. We camped by the first small lake you can see in the shadows. You can wear your arms out there, catching Cutthroat trout. There is a price to pay though, as it is need easy to get there. Watch out for Griz!
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| Above timberline on Trail Ridge Road |
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| Chipmunk at Rainbow Curve |
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| Clark's Nutcracker |
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| Early morning Elk crossing |
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| Sprague Lake and Hallett Peak |
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| Near the upward end of Fall River Road. |
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| Elk grazing about timberline |
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| Sunspot, Winter Park |
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| Ten Mile Creek and Taylor Crossing Condos |
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| Tyler back at the base |
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| View down to Interstate 70 from atop Copper Mountain |
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| Coke break at the base |
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| Tyler and Nino preparing to ride down |
On Saturday the 13th, we drove down to Leadville to watch the Leadville Trail 100 Mountain Bike race. There were about 1800 riders who tortured themselves for 100 miles at elevations of 10 - 12 thousand feet.
Sunday, we turned in the moutain bike and packed up for the trip home on Monday. We detoured through Loves Park, Illinois, in order to see my parents. Tyler had not seen them for almost a year.



















