Back to Blogging?

In the early morning hours of Feb 9, 2026, my identity was stolen.  Actually it was probably stolen before that, but someone was acting upon it a half hour before I even got up.

Someone had managed to get a PUP (Potentially Unwanted Program) by me, and got all of my passwords and financial info that was saved in my browser profile. They may have had more access than that, but this was enough.

Credit and Debit card charges started coming through for things I did not buy. My hotmail account started spewing out spam at a high rate, eventually filling my quota.  Our hulu account was hijacked. 

And, they tried to ... and I'm going to say succeeded .... in getting into my facebook account.

Make that my former facebook account.

At 5:29am, my hotmail account got an email from facebook notifying me that someone was trying to log into my account, and sent a confirmation code to my email.

Again, at this time, I was still asleep.

Whoever it was that had access to my email (and had tried to log into my facebook account) merely had to go to my email and copy the code and put it in the window on their machine.

Boom!  They "proved" it was me logging in.

At 5:34am, I got another email from "Meta for Business".  I never had a business account.  I'm assuming the hacker tried to turn my account into a business account for advertising? Maybe not. But the email said that my account was "restricted from advertising".

After a review of your Facebook Account Phil Leith, its access to advertising is now restricted because of inauthentic behavior or violations of our Advertising policies affecting business assets.

Any ads connected to this Facebook Account that were running are now disabled.

And it said it could be challenged - submitted for review.  "Fix Issue"

Interesting wording in that email:

We used technology to detect this violation and either technology or a review team to carry out this decision. Further violations of our Advertising Standards may result in your account being disabled or restricted.

So they used technology.  Ok. But it can be submitted for review.  Presumably by a person.  Presumably.  But again, I wasn't even up yet at the time this email came in. Pretty sure the hacker submitted it for review.

At 5:36am, I got a suspicious login email from Spotify, which was linked to my facebook account.  It looks like nothing was done there. 

At 5:56am, right about when I got up, I got this email from Meta (facebook).

Hi Phil,

Your Facebook account has been permanently disabled.

You requested a review of this decision, but we still found that your account, or activity on it, didn’t follow our Terms of Service. You can’t request another review.

I didn't fully absorb what had just happened for another half an hour.  I spent a lot of the morning locking down passwords, financial information, cancelling my credit and debit card, and later I started looking for how to get a hold of someone at Meta to clear my account and my name.

Here's the deal. From everything I can tell, searches, AI queries, poking around their Terms of Service and help pages ---

You can't.

They have forms and buttons you can submit, but the replies come back so quickly I'm about positive it's all AI algorithms.  You will never get to a human.

And it became clearer and clearer that not only was that account permanently disabled .... I won't be allowed to make a new one.  There are AI algorithms looking at device ids, ip addresses, of course my name, and if I were to be able to create a new account (without their permission, but then again, I see no way to GET their permission) it would technically be a violation of terms of service, and if I started friending the same people the algorithm further looks at that and of course that means I could be disabled again at any time.

So 17 years of connections with family and friends, helping organize class reunions, getting ideas for woodcarving, sharing my music and my joys and my frustrations, bought stuff using marketplace -- just ... gone .... as a result of a clever hacker attack.

There was an option to download my information ... photos, etc.  It prepared the files and after several minutes it said they were ready to download. Only the download links didn't work. Now I don't think I can get to that link at all anymore.

At any rate, I have found out I'm far from alone on this. There are forums about this (r/facebookdisabledme being one).  All pretty much confirming the door is closed on any viable recourse.

So I've lost my connections.  Before facebook, this was my blog.  This is where I shared. Not a lot of people knew about it, but this is it.  Maybe it's time to fire it up again.

Ynot

Went to the liquor store on the way home yesterday to look for some scotch my grocery store no longer carries. I didn't find it.

On the way out, a man about my age with a cammo backpack who had apparently just bought some Miller High Life heard Lynyrd Skynyrd come over the ceiling speakers. He stopped in the doorway and turned and played an air guitar lick, saying "Skynyrd! .... Tuesday's Gone". And stepped out the door in front of me, then stepped to the side.

I kinda smiled at him. He said "hey, man, if I give you a couple bucks can you give me a ride out by Walmart? I live in the woods back there."

I had seen, this winter, a tent near that Walmart in the woods on a vacant lot. Pretty spot, actually -- I've gone there in the fall to take leaf photos. It's near our neighborhood, but I didn't tell him that.

I had already kind of sized him up. I wasn't too concerned. That's a LONG walk. "Sure, man, hop in".

"What's your name?", he asked. "I go by WhyNot."   Told him my name was Phil.  We drove an talked. He relayed that he'd grown up here. He'd been in the Navy. Married. He said he'd lost his wife and his daughter in an auto accident several years ago at a US 63 intersection. I talked a little about our kids... San Diego, where I was born. Naval and Marine training base where he and Brian both did Basic.

He rolled down his window a bit. "Sorry, man, I've been drinkin'. I don't want you to have to smell this." I could smell the alcohol on his breath as soon as he got in the car.


I wasn't surprised. "Hey, man, we met at a liquor store. Doesn't bother me."

The more comfortable he got with me, the more he loosened up on the language. F-bomb's began to pepper his comments. Not hostile ones - more like the adolescent ones we used to use to signal how cool and "street" we were back in the day.

He asked about Brian and Iraq.  "Is he ok, man?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine."

"Well I knew some guys who went over there who just unloaded trucks and they say they have f*ckin' PTSD.  I'm glad he's doin' ok."

He asked me where I worked. Told him the University. He said "yeah, you got the house.  You got responsibilities. Pay taxes and all. Do whatever THEY tell you to. I dropped off the grid, man. Been doin' it 2 and a half years now. I'm out of the system. Nobody tells me what to do."

"Yeah, there's a whole community of us out there", he added.

I said "Yeah, I know. ' THEY', huh?. Who is 'THEY'?".

"You haven't figured out who THEY are yet, man?" He shook his head. Grabbed another can of beer from his backpack in the back seat.

I asked him about the tent in the woods. He said, "No, man, that's some f*ckin' transient. I live in a HOUSE. ... Well ... not a HOUSE house. I built it. Out of pallets. I bolted them together to make a house."

I was kinda impressed -- I'm actually kind of curious about it.

Just then the sky opened up with heavy rain and some small hail. "If it's gonna rain like this, maybe I'll go visit my mom. She lives in a retirement home on Bethel."

I knew exactly where that was - I know someone who lives there, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I guessed his house mustn't be super water-proof.

"Yeah, I moved back here to be close to my mom. She's not doing too well. I go visit every now and then."

I continued to the retirement condos to drop him off. Though I was pretty sure this guy posed no danger to anyone, it never escaped me that I really didn't know him.  Even then I wasn't worried. I know it's a locked facility with only the front door open and a receptionist.

"Any good man will help people out when he can", he said.

"I know a guy who goes all over the country helping people.  Dug through the rubble in New York right after 9/11.  And after the Joplin Tornado. And to Colorado when that big rain washed out all the roads and a bunch of houses a couple of years back."

"Well you'd do that."

"I don't, though", I replied, feeling a little less of a man at that moment.

"What did you call yourself again?", I asked.

"Ynot",  He grinned. " It's Tony, spelled backwards. That's my name, spelled backwards."

"Ah, that's clever. I like it."

"Yeah, I never had a nickname all my life. I finally got one. A black girl who gave me a blow-job at the homeless shelter, she gave it to me. Now I have one."

He paused and continued, "I'm sorry I'm probably offending your Christian sensibilities. Are you Christian?"

"Yeah", I replied. "It's ok, you're fine."

"Well what do I owe ya?"

"Nothin', man, we're good. Happy to do it."

He slips a quarter into the cup holder in the console. Pride. I recognize it. He's walking a thin line here.  I left it there.

"Them Methodists, all they want is money", he added.

"My wife might take offense to that", I replied.

"She a big gal, about 250 lbs? That's the kinda woman I see you with."

Well that was a bit rude, I thought. He must have seen it in my face. "Hey I'm just kiddin'".

I said "You mean like that Jim Croce song?" He breaks into "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown".

"No, I mean 'Roller Derby Queen'", I said.  "Nah, she's nothing like that."

"I used to have his album from 1973. I was just listening to that the other day..."

I had to wonder, on what?  In your pallet house?  No matter.  Not important. "Yeah, 'Life and Times'. Great album. This song's on that same album.  I'm actually reading his biography right now."

"That's cool! Well thanks, man, you did a good thing today," he thanked me.

"You're welcomed. Enjoy your visit with your mom."

"Yeah, I visit her every now and then. Especially when she's makin' a big f*ckin' roast."

"I'll bet! Well, take care."

I drove off toward home. The storm had passed to the east, and the late afternoon sun cast a bright rainbow against the purple clouds. Which now that I think of it appeared to end in the woods behind Walmart about a mile in the distance.

There's a song in that story somewhere.

Symposium On Non-Diacritical Specification of Automatapiic Representations of Rock and Roll

I'll have to set this up for you.  When we were very little kids, we didn’t really know what to call “Rock and Roll”, as it was distinctly absent in our house.  Practically the only times we ever heard it was when teenage babysitters babysat us and turned it on and turned it UP, man!

Apparently, we picked up on the backbeat, and we called the music … “Ooh-ba, soopa-ba, wah –wah –wah”  Which as you can see is difficult to convey the exact pronunciation without actually going to a sonic example.  The "wah" sounds, I believe, depicted guitar riffs.

So my brother Jeff emailed me this last night (presumably because he was trying to send an email to someone… perhaps even me ...) where it was to be mentioned.

From: Jeff Leith
Sent: Sunday, March 02, 2015 7:01 AM
To: Phil Leith
Subject: Ok, for the sake of discussion...

How would I convey, in e-mail, and without using the dictionary-style phonetic symbols, how to pronounce:

Ooo pa thoopa-pa wah wah wah!!!

The trouble seems mostly with pa, conveying that the a sound is like cat. And does wah work, or should it be waugh?

- Jeff

Ok, here goes....

Historically in the context of my own linguistic studies on the subject – noting I have no external sources to cite, I have spelled it more along the lines of:

“Oooh, bah, soopa-bah, wah-wah-wah.”

On the other hand, I have since come across related constructs in the area of music which suggest that “waugh” may, in fact, be the more proper spelling.

As is sometimes the case with  automatapiic phraseology, there may be discrepancies especially where similar consonant sounds are used to indicate a percussive sound,  it is entirely possible that “bah” and “pa” were carried along as independent lines of pronunciations that were for all intents and purposes, indistinguishable even at the time of the inception of the phrase with individuals propagating their own interpretation of the sound of a snare drum parallel to each other, perhaps even in the same room – without controversy – as the spirit of the backbeat itself was properly rendered in either case.

There is also the case of the “th” vs “s” divergence between the two primary schools of thought on the subject, where the third syllable is thüp under one interpretation, whereas it either started out as, or evolved into süp in an alternate elocution.

With that in mind, to convey phonetically without dictionary symbols the Jeffersonian branch of the pronunciation of the phrase would be:

/ü/ /pah/’ /süp-pə/ /pah/’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

Whereas the Philipian school would only be the very slightly different:

/ü/ /bah/’ /süp-pə/ /bah/’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

To delve in to the world of pronunciative representation of phonetic sound while eschewing the use of the diacritical, the whole point of diacritical phonetics being to have a standard, one should probably seek some sort of recognized standard for the use of the standard English alphabet (this because it is the language in the context of which the aforementioned is under discussion).

One such standard – and as long as we can refer to a well-defined standard which can be agreed upon between the parties having the discussion it doesn’t really matter – is the Respelling standard as defined in the largely crowd-sourced (though not without its own internal corruptions) Wikipedia.  We should note, however, that Respelling does still use the schwa symbol ə.

Using the respelling standard, our pronunciative translations would come out:

/oo/ /pah/’ /soop-pə/ /pah/’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

or

/oo/ /bah/’ /soop-pə/ /bah/’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

respectively.

If we further agreed on the use of “uh” for the ə

/oo/ /pah/’ /soop-puh/ /pah/’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

or

/oo/ /bah/’ /soop-puh/ /bah./’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

-- again, respectively.

On a final point of discussion, it is unclear to me that the mere use of ü or oo  properly conveys the abrupt percussive stop to the sound of the first syllable (or even the a in the fifth syllable).  There should be some sort of stop symbol … such as I will propose by indication of a “period” using the Jeffersonian branch as an example:

/oo./ /pah/’ /thoop-puh/ /pah/’ , /wa/ - /wa/ - /wa/

If the goal of keeping away from symbols other than English Alphabetical Characters is of critical importance, we get into the difficult area of indicating the staccato by adding a character without violating the standard or changing the sound altogether.  The accents are critical, though, and it should be noted that the the first of the three wa s  should have more abrupt ending, but not quite as abrupt as the initial oo. , we may go to the use of a “,” to indicate that.   There may be a very slight additional pause between the second and third wa s which could be indicated by an extra hyphen, but we let the last two wa s come to a natural end.

So in the end, if we drop the slashes and replace the schwa with “uh”, leaving the accents in, we have:

oo. pah’ thoop-puh pah.’ , wa, - wa -- wa

If this analysis is insufficient, I propose a symposium on the matter.

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye

Another toasty warm night in the tent thanks to the heater.  And it was time to get up.  And break down.  I decided I didn't want the thought of breaking down hanging over my head while we were out trying to enjoy one last spin in the park - so  ... just do it.  We ate breakfast and packed everything away, folded up the camper, repairing the clamps the screws came out of along the way.

And then just one more thing.  One last hurrah.... my pick will ALWAYS be Trail Ridge Road.  I love it up there.

Traffic was already pretty heavy this Saturday morning.  One of the campground hosts had said that all of July and the first half of August is the busiest time up there.  I'd been there in mid August before and I don't remember it being that crowded ... but.  

And it was pretty much an up-and-back.  A drive to Lava Cliffs, then turn around and come back.  Such a pretty, awe-some drive, literally.  Then back down to the campsite, hooked up the camper, then did a drive around the campground - all the loops - looking at campsites for future visits ... which ones were fantastic, which were close to bathrooms, vault or regular ... and made notes on the campground map.

And then down, down, down and out, with mountains in our rear view mirror (one of the saddest sights, to me).  Beautiful day, so they were really clear and visible, too.

There was a big, BIG bluegrass festival going on in Lyons.  We passed through and out to the high plains, down to I-70, and into Kansas.   We ended up staying at a Holiday Inn Express in Colby and ate at Taco John's.  We were both tired.  Slept well.

In the morning it would've been cool if we could just teleport home, but we had a good 7 hour drive ahead of us.

Great trip.  The water tank didn't work out so well.  The system still leaks air, but I'll get that figured out by next trip, and I'll use PVC as originally planned.

Squeezing In As Much as Possible

We took our solar showers and rested a bit.  About 2:40, it started raining hard, and the temperature dropped from around 84 to 56 degrees.  Didn't recover much for the rest of the day, either, which was fine with us.  I wanted to go down and maybe try some more photos of a stream so we went back down to the Bear Lake Road bridge over the Big Thompson.  But I couldn't seem to get it together.  Kept having to go back to the car for equipment I'd forgotten.  They'd blocked a lot of access to the river off as well.  This is where the "People Have Died Here" sign is. And just as I got everything together, I ran out of sunlight -- which will make or break your shot.

I tried the middle of the river under the bridge.  Ran into a ranger painting over graffiti on the bridge.  Seriously -- it is impressive how well the millions of visitors to the park in general treat the park so well, but there are still some real jerks out there.

One thing I had been curious about all week were these plastic barrels of water along Bear Lake Road with canvas hoses attached.  They were labeled WATER - NOT POTABLE - NOT FOR DRINKING.   I wondered what they were for.  So I asked him.

He said that there had been a major renovation of Bear Lake road recently.  They widened it, smoothed out some curves, and actually even re-routed a mile of it away from Glacier Creek.  And the barrels were to water the new native vegetation they were trying to get started in areas disturbed by the project.

So I wanted to head up the road to see where this re-route was.  There were storms building on the ridge, and you could see it was raining up on Hallett.  Bear Lake Road goes right up there.  The meteorologist mountain freak in me couldn't resist driving up there to see what it was like.

So we did.

There was a lot of heavy rain by the time we got up to the Bear Lake parking lot.  Lots of people coming back from hikes.  Lots of people still out there, apparently, too, if you were counting cars.  Lots of very wet, probably cold people, as it was probably about 45 degrees up there.

We drove back down ... when we had come back down from the Mills Lake hike, Vicki had spotted a streak of white in the forest up toward Glacier Gorge as we were rounding one of the switchbacks going down and asked "what's that white thing?"

That white thing, it turns out, is Alberta Falls and then that other cascade a ways below it -- visible from the road. Never knew you could see it from Bear Lake road, but from one spot, you can.  So this time, I looked for it, and we spotted it.  We're all, like, experts, and stuff now. :-)

We managed to find where the old road used to go off down by Glacier Creek.  It's a little stub used for overflow parking, and I think a trailhead for the trail they've turned that section of the road into.  And as we were approaching the turnoff to our campground, there they were.  What I'd been hoping to see all week -- a herd of elk grazing in the Moraine Park meadow.  There was quite the "Elk Jam" of cars.  We parked near the back of it and I grabbed my camera to take some shots and we walked a ways toward them.  They were working their way up toward the road, and rangers came along and had people get out of the way and move cars so they could cross undisturbed.  Very cool to see.

Another thing I'd had a question about that got answered at the Moraine Park visitors' center a few days before is the big fences that I've seen in the park for years ... and now there are new ones in Moraine Park that weren't there 4 years ago.  They're basically to keep the elk out so that vegetation can recover, especially small aspens -- which they'll apparently eat up.  The problem is, the ranger said, there are actually too many elk in the park.  It's overpopulated by about 3x.  One wonders why the herd isn't being ... managed ... but I'm sure there are people who don't understand a thing about animal populations and resources who would just freak over it.  Probably a PR disaster for the NPS.   The fences are FAIRLY unobtrusive visually ... for fences.  And you can go through them (but you must close the gate behind you).

The wind from the storm had actually knocked a couple of our canopy poles down, so we set them back up.  We fixed red beans and rice with beef for dinner.

Since this was to be our last night (yes, I agreed to leave Saturday) -- and we hadn't had a fire all week, tonight was the night.  The fire ring in 96 is close to the tent pad, but it's kind of far away from where we had to put the camper. If you're in a camper, the site is really "strung out". So it really wasn't that cozy a campsite for a camper, and not really conducive for the campfire mood.  But we took the chairs out there and torched one up and sat around it with a few drinks and the guitar until about 11:00pm.  The stars were out in full force in the clear night.  The Milky Way blazed across the sky.  We even saw a shooting star.

New Ground

I've never hiked up Forest or Spruce Canyons at all, really.  No Fern Lake, no Cub lake.  I wanted to take it easy on Vicki so I picked the shorter of the two hikes for our last hurrah.  It involves hiking across Moraine Park right were a low granite ridge noses out into the flat valley -- the trail actually goes up and over the end of it, then along the south side of that ridge, and eventually up to Cub Lake.  Not much elevation gain, and mostly at the end.

It's a rule of thumb that it's a better idea to hike in the morning in the summertime mountains if you want to avoid a shower.  It's not as big a deal if you're not going to be out exposed above the treeline.  I've been out in the rain before - if you're prepared for it it's not so bad.

We headed out about 9:15 on a pretty morning.  The Moraine Park Meadow is a pretty one with the Big Thompson and Cub Creek meandering through it.  Hadn't really ever seen it from this end.

When we'd been up the Fern Lake trail looking for Windy Gulch Cascade Vicki had pointed out some burn marks on some of the aspen, but I didn't think much of it until I saw a sign near the Cub Lake trailhead that talked about the Fern Lake Fire of 2012.  As we walked along we could see trees that had been scorched and even killed by it.

It was evidently quite destructive.  On the flip side, so many trees had recovered, and so much new vegetation was coming up just a year later.  We walked through a big grove of dead aspen, but the thick stand of shoots coming up from the root system was 4 or 5 feet high already.  It was interesting to see the contrast between the obvious destruction and the rapid renewal in its wake.

One thing I haven't mentioned yet is the pine beetle destruction.  Back in 2010, the swaths of brown trees pretty pretty pervasive.  Today, those trees have lost their needles and are grey forms of trunks and branches that blend in with the live trees much better.  While you can still see that there is damage, it's not as stark looking as it was a few years ago.  I also can't help but wonder if, in the end, this isn't a good thing for the forest, especially after seeing how it is coming back after the fire.  We let these trees stand, stamp out fires -- they get thicker and thicker... one has to wonder if the pine beetles aren't an alternate method for Mother Nature to thin the forest.  At any rate, the fact that there aren't a lot of brown needled trees left around tells me that the problem has waned ... if large numbers of trees were still being killed, we'd see lots more brown needles.  But for now, it looks like the epidemic is over.  A few seasons with normal rain and the remaining trees, which were the strong ones to begin with, should be able to recover from the damage they've been dealt.

Lots of pretty wildflowers and grasses along the way.  Glacial boulders, burnt logs from the fire (some of the hollowed out burnt logs had rocks placed in them ... I had to wonder if this wasn't a part of the fire fighting effort).  We ran across a large mountain hare in the middle of the trail.

Farther up the trail as it began to rise toward Cub Lake little streamlets springing out of the mountainside trickled down and crossed the trail in places.   You could hear the water all around, and a lush stand of ferns grew in the area. Fern Lake is in this same area - it's not hard to imagine how it got its name.


 
Cub Lake itself was a little disappointing, but it wasn't its fault. The trees around it had been killed by beetles and the fire -- all of them. The water lilies were pretty, as was the backdrop. You could see a bit of Little Matterhorn poking out from behind Mt. Wuh in front of us, and Gable Top Mountain framed by the end of the gorge.

We had lunch on a lake shore boulder sticking out into the water before turning back for the hike back down.

It was a very warm hike ... temperatures were creeping into the mid 80's, and the sun was intense.  By the time we got back to the car, we were pretty sweaty and a bit tired.  But the sun meant one good thing ....

That solar shower water was bound to be good and hot.  And I knew what we'd be doing when we got back to camp.  There was plenty of water for both of us.

In a Mountain Town

I wrote a new original song the weekend before we left, inspired by a few mountain towns, but mainly Estes Park.  In case you're curious, Brad Fitch also goes by "Tropicowboy" ... that's his publishing name.

Today was the day we were planning on spending in town in the first place due to rain in the forecast.  Do the tourist thing. We'd had a bit of a preview a few afternoons before - but we stuck with the plan.   Slept in until 8:00, had cold cereal and yogurt for breakfast, and took 34 into Estes Park ... both to drive through Horseshoe Park and see the other way into town and the Fall River visitors' center.

Cool thing is, they had the Longs Peak Geo-Situ pin I was looking for.  A souvenir shop next door had a vinyl relief map of the entire state of Colorado - cool, but not quite what I was looking for.  Still, I made a note of the company that made it (Hubbard Scientific) for future reference.

We both love Christmas and had seen The Spruce House Christmas shop on the west end of town a few days before and stopped there first.  Got some ornaments as presents as well as a small tree for the hearth at home that Vicki thought was cute.

We stopped at Penelope's where I had my traditional Elk burger, and Vicki had a Buffalo burger.  For those of you familiar with Columbia, imagine a really cool cross between Booche's and the 63 Diner ... with really good burgers and fries.  That can be elk or buffalo if you want.

We went into a few other shops ... a rock shop where they had some beautiful rocks, fossils, and rock formations, a few tourist shops (t-shirts and little souvenirs) and into an Alpine shop type place ... where I found the Hubbard Scientific relief map of RMNP I was looking for!

We each got an ice cream cone at Hayley's along with some toffee.  It did rain off and on ... we just dashed into shops when it rained.  It wasn't quite the washout predicted earlier in the week, though.

We sat by Fall River in Tregent Park and just inhaled the atmosphere mentally.  And by 4 we were ready to go back to RMNP.

Hadn't had quite enough river, so we went back to the Fern Lake trailhead and in a couple hundred yards to a spot we'd seen before where I again tried to record some river sounds.  We were watching a couple of fly fishers again ... too much conversation for a good recording, though.

Back at the campsite, I had some leftover rice meal.  Vicki wasn't really hungry and just had a small snack.

The deer were back in the campsite, and we were treated to a spectacular pink and purple sunset as storm clouds hugged the ridge to the west and south.

Cooler tonight for sure. We'll be breaking out the heater.

Only two more days in the mountains.  Starting to hit me.  It's almost over.

Little did I know.  Vicki had a suggestion before we went to bed.  That we start back Saturday afternoon instead of Sunday.  She suggested we pack up Saturday morning, go do something in the park, and leave in the early afternoon.  A little compromise.  I had to wrap my head around it.  Leave early?  Hmmmm....

Road Trip

We were sore the next morning.  I figured I should give Vicki a rest, and frankly, I didn't mind.  There had been some mention that getting up early and hitting trails wasn't exactly her idea of a vacation, as much as she was enjoying it.

We'd brought some pancake mix that you just add water to ... must've had cinnamon and nutmeg in the mix, too.  I mixed that up and heated the syrup in a pan of boiling water (I don't like cold syrup), and then cooked up the pancakes on our new cast-iron grill on the Coleman stove.

It's the gasoline kind -- a true dual fuel stove (Coleman 424). I like several things about it.  #1, it's old-school.  I like old-school. I burn white gas in it, but it will also burn unleaded gas.  I like that option.  I also have a propane adapter so we can use propane if we want.  One of the main things, though, is you can tell how much fuel you have left.  I can pick up the tank and feel how full (or not) it is.  Propane's a lot more iffy.

They were very good.  We'd been turned on to the Kodiak gourmet brand by some friends, but I couldn't find it in any local stores.  Plus online it was like $17 for a box.  I found this brand at HyVee for $3.28.  I can't remember off the top of my head what it was.

So something easy today.  I'd never been to Lily Lake, and I never realized it was right off of the road.  It's outside the fee area of the park, but I think it may now technically be a part of the park.  It has a trail all the way around it, and we took it.

You could see Longs and Meeker looming up to the south, with Estes Cone close by.  And there were cattails in a marsh on the south end and families of ducks in the water. Some of them were diving for food. Wildflowers and pines all around it.  Lots of people stop here, apparently.  The parking lot was overflowing.  Can't get over all the families we saw on this trip.  That's a great thing.  Lots of kids.

But what to do after that?  We planned Thursday to be a town day because it was forecast to be the most likely day for rain - so we didn't want to do that.  So we decided to drive down to St. Malo's in Meeker Park to my favorite little church.  Vicki had seen it before, but it's always a nice spot to visit, and 7 is a scenic highway.

Right away I noticed the pond that is normally around the church was empty.  Closer inspection of the roadbed revealed why.  This is where 7 was washed out in the flood last year.  Wow.  It was mostly cleaned up and the road was repaired ... I can only assume they'll let the pond re-fill... but it did show starkly how Estes Park and a few other communities up there had been cut off by the floods that stormy week.

It's not nearly as photogenic without the pond ... so what to do now?

Well how far is Nederland?

GPS said 20 miles.  So we started out.  And when we'd gotten to the end of that 20 miles I realized that it was 20 miles ... to the TURNOFF.  It was another 20 miles to Nederland.  Oh well.   We've come this far.

I once read in a guide to Colorado's mountain towns that Nederland is where all the hippies from Boulder moved when they got priced out of the real estate market.   Probably an apt description.  And have we mentioned yet that this was my first trip to Colorado since pot was legalized?  If you're going to see a store anywhere, you're going to see one in Nederland.  Sure enough, Vicki spotted a sign right downtown advertising "Fine Canabis" (The Canary's Song?).   No, we didn't stop and buy any.  :-)  But we did go to Kathmandu, an Indian Nepali buffett ... which was very good.  We ended up parking near another interesting place, "The Ned Center" .... which I assume was for medical marijuana before it was legalized for recreational use.  But I could be wrong.

At any rate, the food at Kathmandu was very good, and I don't think it had anything to do with a haze of smoke over Nederland ... it's just good.  No, really.

The coffee shop in a railroad car that Mark and I had stopped in back in '07 has been bought out, I'm sure much to the dismay of the purists.

We headed back to Estest Park.  I wanted to stop at a hardware store to find some screws to replace some screws on the camper that had somehow gone missing and pick up a card to mail to Pam and John for their 40th anniversary.  It started to rain rather heavily after we picked these things up ... and Vicki spotted a sign that said "You Need Pie".

Vicki likes pie.  A lot.  A place that specializes in pie?  We're in.

They were out of pie.  Guess we got there too late.  Seriously.  Don't tempt people with pie if you don't have pie.

Back to the park.  Back to the campground.  But first, we stopped at the Moraine Park ranger station/lodge.  I picked up a  Colorado Geology book there to read in the rain if it kept raining tonight, and perhaps tomorrow.  Vicki already had books.  It became a running joke that week that we'd get to that place within 20 minutes of closing time.  It closes at 4:30.  Even if we weren't going there, we'd note the time when we drove by it.

We had new neighbors at the campground.

Saw a Cardinals Baseball shirt on one of the ladies, heard a game in the background, Missouri plates and a Joe Machens plateholder - they were from New Bloomfield -- less than 30 miles driving from Columbia.  Small world.

We had another of the famous flavored rice dinners, and sat and relaxed in front of the camper ... Vicki was reading, and I was picking on my little guitar... and three antlered deer wandered into the campground, grazing, and generally unconcerned with anyone who wasn't moving fast.  Which was pretty much nobody.  They posed for pictures for lots of campers in the waning sunlight.

Ended up going to bed around 10.  There was a little rain overnight, but not much.  Didn't really need the heater that night.