I’m sitting here on the Front Range of the Rockies in Colorado Springs, about to leave the mountains behind.
From here eastwards it’s pretty much flat land and a long straight road for the next four days, it’s going to be a slog.
I spent a day in Mesa Verde NP, a beautiful place, though much is still closed down. Ship Rock was barely visible in the blowing dust, so that will wait until next time. It was then on to Durango, and Colorado Springs via Pagosa Springs, Wolf Pass (10,850’), Salida and Cañon City. Every journey has its end points, the physical one, but more importantly the mental one. There comes a moment when it’s just over, regardless of where you might be, and for me that is now. Watching the mountains fade in the rear view mirror and shading my eyes from the rising sun while driving east has always been a sign that this endpoint has been reached. It becomes a time for reflection, the memories that will stay, the highs and the lows, how it could have been better and how some things really worked out. By the time I roll up The Hill and home, it will have become an adventure, to be put in its shoe box, close the lid and put it on the shelf.
Then the embellishment begins….