June 27, 2012, beautiful blue skies and only a little wind
Our chores are done for the morning: veggies prepped, carrot cake baked and frosted, banana bread just taken out of the oven, cabins cleaned, camper cleaned, e-mails read, and dogs petted. I think back to my days of working for YFU (Youth For Understanding) and putting in 10 hour days during the summer trying to find host families for exchange students. How did I ever do it?
The Resort has been delightfully busy lately with a family reunion/birthday bash and various groups of fishermen. It’s so nice when people come and stay for a few days so that we can have some interaction with them. It’s also nice for them since they can really unwind and recharge their batteries…hard to do that with a single overnight and then back on the road. The Colorado family that was here recently represented ages 5 to 83 and they all played, laughed, and took over the place just like they were supposed to. Jake and I had a particularly fun time with Howie, the free-spirited one in the bunch who could be described as “larger than life”, and we spent the evenings down at the dock or in our camper trading stories with him. Howie has a deep voice, volume always on high, and a great belly laugh to accentuate everything that tickles his funny bone which is, well, everything. I’ll bet he is the kids’ favorite uncle.
|Hannah and Anna making a brithday cake.|
About two miles from the trailhead I suddenly felt something strange going on with one of my boots. My hiking boots were purchased when I lived in Boston some 14 years ago so they had seen better days. I knew that they were on their last legs (intended); the inside soles were starting to get crumbly so it always felt like I had dirt and pebbles in my boots and the outer sole had started deteriorating away. That fateful day the outside sole decided that it was going to give up the ghost and completely pulled away from the rest of the boot up to about the arch. I had to goose step my way down the trail, sounding and maybe looking a bit like Bozo the Clown. Slap, step, slap, step. About 20 yards from the trailhead the other boot died, too. Slap, slap, slap …”Jake, you can go get the truck!”
Without foot gear I had a good excuse to let Jake drive us home and we took the long way around the Centennial Valley. There has been a bike race going on with riders starting in Banff, following the Continental Divide, and ending some place in New Mexico, I think. We had met one of the participants about four days previous as we were headed into town and had shared some cherries with him so it was only appropriate for us to continue the tradition when we met a few more riders after our hike. It’s amazing how much just a few handfuls of cherries were appreciated. It’s a selfish act sometimes to act in a generous manner…who gets more pleasure? But with the price of cherries it’s a good thing that the race has already worked its way south!
Yesterday brought another new experience to my list: a real cattle drive complete with cowboys on horseback. We could see and hear the cows coming at least five minutes before we ever saw them. The dust was flying through the air and we could hear the bellowing and bawling of cows and calves bouncing off the mountain walls. You would have thought they were being driven to slaughter. I hung over the wooden fence watching the parade go by, feeling a bit like a kid, and had to laugh when a cow suddenly put on the brakes and just stared at me like I was from Mars. Later that day one cow came back down the road, mooing and crying for the calf she had lost along the way.
The out of doors is beckoning me and it is time for Jake to wake up from his nap or he will never be able to sleep tonight. Our evening will be easy with only nine guests to feed and clean up after so by 8:00 we should be out by a fire or down at the docks, wind permitting. So when are you going to come visit??