All my life I had been wanting to see the Rocky Mountains, so my friend Robert and I made plans and preparations for my life-long, dreamed of trip.
I had a 59' Plymouth wagon that possessed bald tires and bad ball joints, just to name a couple of its handicaps. In this vehicle, we were about to embark on a 2,000 mile journey?! I mentioned my fears to Robert and his answer was, "Have no fear, Robert is here!" We borrowed a tent from Roberts brother, packed up some things, loaded up my kids and headed out.
Things were very uneventful across Nebraska; the car performed like a champ and so several hours later, Robert brought to my attention that we had been going steadily upgrade. Ahead lay wide open sky, full of fluffy clouds and I exclaimed at the beauty of it all. I asked how long before we would see the mountains. Robert pointed to my "fluffy" clouds and said, "Those are mountain peaks." Oh! My! I stared with 'new' eyes at the panorama in front of me and the majestic mountains way off in the distance which seemed to fill the world.
We travelled on, the car laboring as we started to climb. We decided to set up camp on Dillon Lake, so we unpacked things and proceeded to lay out the tent. I looked around but could not see the tent poles. Robert had insisted on packing the car, making the statement that a woman can't pack a car correctly. I made mention of the missing poles and all I got was a snarl. We repacked everything, to much grumbling from the kids and made our way further up the mountain.
We came to the town of Breckenridge where we stopped for supplies. The power was off in the large foodmart and it was interesting trying to find things by flashlight using a store employee for a guide. I solved the problem of missing tent poles by purchasing clothesline rope and mentally hoping that the trees would be cooperative when we reached our camping area.
We had climbed another 15,000 feet before we found the perfect spot. Robert gave me one of 'those looks' (reserved for 3yr. olds or adult idiots), when I uncoiled the clothesline and produced a wicked looking knife and cut the rope into appropriate lengths. Then using rope, tent loops and the trees, erected the tent. A little sway-backed perhaps, but it would do. I couldn't resist arching an eyebrow at Robert and saying, "Have no fear, Nanette is here!"
My four children; Mark, Sue-z, Debbie and Brian, were already scampering and exploring before I could caution them to the dangers. Wood was gathered, rocks were found to make a fire pit, an old oven rack brought along served as a grill, plus my old square cast iron skillet and we were in business. An old battered tin coffee pot completed this grand ensemble.
Food has never smelled or tasted so good as it did that evening. Night came and the stars were beautifully bright and looked to be so close, you could reach out and touch them. In the morning, there were tracks around the tent made by curious deer on their way to the pond that was close by. I had risen early so I could enjoy the scenery and I have never beheld such breath-taking scenery. What I saw made me want to stay there forever.
We were camped on one slope which was a deep purple, almost black; while the opposite slope was bathed in gold and orange from the rising sun. Far off on a mountain peak, mountain goats were leaping from ledge to ledge, very surefooted in their movements - incredibly swift and beautiful. In the other direction a cabin nestled under the peak was sending up whisps of smoke into a very silent morning. I've often heard the phrase "you can hear the silence." How true it was! It lay around you like a blanket and to me it would have been almost blasphemous to utter a word to break it.
Nineteen years have passed since that memorable trip and I can vividly recall the feel, the smell and the sense of it all as I write it here. Each day we travelled afar always returning at night to our camp. One day we journeyed to the Royal Gorge, but that's another story, for another time.