Regular Folks!: Rocky Mountain High

I took my first vacation as a an "adult" in the early Summer of 1980. I was living on my own, supporting myself, and fully off my parents payroll. I'd never flown in an airplane and found it somewhat intimidating to be flying off so far from my life in Central Missouri. My brother Larry had invited me to come out and visit him and his then wife Victoria. I remember being scared about the thought of flying in a "Big Ol' jet airliner", but I was excited about going on an out of state solo-adventure.

We had a great time and I was blown away by the Rocky Mountains. I recall the moment when I realized why John Denver sang about them in so many of his songs-or at least in that one song.

Among other activities like eating at my first big city Mexican restaurant (we had a Mexican restaurant in my hometown of Rolla, Missouri called Casa Bonita, but I don't recall eating there much), we drove through the mountains, went on day hikes and did some crawling around on the rocks. We fished for Brook Trout and caught several in a nice little secluded spot; so long ago now I don't recall where.

I was in awe of the beauty of the mountains and became a fan of the Broncos on that trip, just because they were there. Before I headed back to Missouri, I decided I'd come back some day for another mountain visit.

I stayed true to myself and have been back numerous times over the past 30 some odd years; hiking, camping, skiing, bow hunting for Elk, visiting family and friends and sometimes just passing through on our way back from other trips west. Shortly after returning home from this trip I met a girl named Sue, and a little over a year or so later we spent our honeymoon in Aspen. We revisited Aspen on a recent anniversary and were surprised at how much it had changed, however, the mountains had not and we were glad for that.

I don' think I'll ever get tired of seeing the Rocky Mountains or the sunrises and sunsets that accompany them. I know now why Uncle Pat and Aunt Katherine visited the Mountains of Wyoming for 2 weeks every year of their 60 plus year marriage. I suppose they'd still be going out there if time hadn't caught up with them; like it will all of us if we live long enough.

Some day I suppose I'll just have memories of my mountain visits. I'd better plan a trip out soon, to make a few more deposits in the aging memory bank. After-all, if it weren't for memories and dreams, all we'd have is right now.