Fire

Trenton outside River Eagle Hobbies
in Boonville

We had Trenton for several days in early/mid November while Mommy and Daddy went to Chicago for a hemophilia event.   We even drove Trenton and daddy up to the train station in LaPlata, MO to see him off.  We saw three REAL trains in about 20 minutes, and daddy got on one and took off.

The train station manager let Trenton come back behind the ticket counter and gave him a train coloring book and some crayons and he was quite impressed with the whole thing.  Then we went by the train store in Boonville on the way back and bought a car for our N-scale train.

That Saturday (Nov 12) he and I were on the deck in the morning, and he wanted to build a fire in the chimnea.    It was a bit chilly, so we did.   And we let it burn ... it was down to just some black logs and a few flames, when Vicki decided we needed to take him to see her mother, drop by the grocery store, get him lunch and down for a nap.  This was about 11:50 am.  And I said "well, we'd better get going pretty quick, then".

Yes.  Our house was probably on
fire when this picture was taken.

I went into the kitchen and got a large plastic cup and filled it with water to pour over the fire to put it out.   Started grabbing coats and things, and I peeked out and thought out loud that I thought I needed to do it again.  Even Vicki thought it would be fine, but I still went back and filled the cup again and poured it over the logs.  Got lots of steam and some smoke for a few seconds and then it subsided  and I felt sure it was out.   And we left.

Visited Vicki's mom for maybe a half hour, 45 minutes.  Went to the grocery store, and drove home.

Fireman helping our neighbor Adele
(this is from the paper)

There are a lot of older people in our neighborhood, and it's not unusual to see emergency vehicles -- ambulances, fire trucks carrying EMT stuff ... in the neighborhood.  And there was one blocking our way and I wondered which neighbor was headed to the hospital or worse this time.

And then I saw another fire truck.  And another.  And one with a ladder sticking way out .... 

over our house.

A little smoke in our driveway.

My heart sank.  "That's our house", I said, not really wanting to believe it.    No.  Really?  Yes.  It is.   There was a little smoke drifting around out front.  But the fire was basically out.   Other than some sagging between rafters  in the roof over the garage, the house looked pretty normal from the front.

A very nice woman in a fire suit whose job it obviously was to inform and calm homeowners and neighbors came to talk to us.   She said they were still investigating the cause.  Wanted to know if I left the grill going.   I told her no, but I could tell her exactly what happened.

This one is from the City's website.
The first time I saw a picture of
actual fire at the house.

At the time I figured the wind, and it was very windy that day, blew the fire back up into viable flames and glowing cinders, flying in the wind, and that it caught leaves next to the house on fire.   We have wood siding.  And there were sofit vents up there for it to lick into the attic.

We weren't allowed to go in for at least an hour.  We couldn't leave Trenton in the car -- it was too far down the road, but we needed to talk to the firemen, so I got him out and carried him over there.  They gave him stickers. And he fell asleep on my shoulder.

Our first view inside

Got him back to the car, and his Grammy Pam showed up to get him after a while.

Neighbors were milling about... hugging us, telling us how sorry they were, happy nobody was hurt.

The fire lady said that it was pretty bad, but it looked worse than it was.  Gave me some Red Cross literature.  Had me call my insurance company.   We were both in a daze, and I just did it.  I don't really remember much about it.

The firemen protected
our belongings way
beyond what I would
have expected.

And finally, they let us in the house.   There was wet, blown insulation everywhere.  A giant hole in the kitchen roof.  Vicki said "Oh look, we have a skylight!"   There were a few firemen still putting out smoldering embers.  Lots of debris from stuff stored in the attic was scattered about the kitchen, and piled out on the deck.  The ceiling in the garage had come in, and wet insulation hung down with drywall and stuff that had been above it in the attic.

Out on the deck was the chimnea, with the three logs still in it, not burning, pretty much the way I'd left them.  There was a vertical hole in the kitchen wall.  You could see where the fire had burned up the side of the house and the sofit and most of the roof over the kitchen was gone with the burnt remains of charred rafters hanging out, unsupported on one side.

Part of our extensive stash of
Christmas decorations.

The firemen said the call came in at 12:30, about a half hour after we had left the house.   They said they could see the smoke from the fire house, a mile or so away.  It was already a big fire.  And they had it out by 12:45, 12:50.    We got back about 1:40, 1:45-ish.

All of this happened in 45 minutes?

It had to have been starting as we pulled out of the driveway.

The news reported that I had poured
"2 cups" of water on the fire.
Two of these is closer to a half
gallon.

Out on the deck there were two propane tanks, one "empty", the other hooked up to the gas grill.  The hose on it was melted. Thank God neither one of them blew. The grill itself had cracked from the heat.   Some of the decking over by the wall where the fire was was burned.  The concrete-fiber grill mat the chimnea sat on was still right there.  The chimnea did not catch the deck on fire.  It was the leaves.  But still.  That big, that fast.

Well, there was a tiki torch there near the house and it likely fell over into the fire at some point.  And then when it burned through the plastic bin all our barbecue stuff was in, there was probably another 3 quarts of torch oil.  That helped.   And the wind.  The wind was a big factor.

Kitchen a day or two later.

I figure now that the second time I put water on it, the steam popped a coal off of one of the logs and it flew into the leaves by the house.  I didn't see it because of the steam.  With the wind and the dried leaves from the wild grape vine, it was the perfect fire storm.

The firemen said they'd be back around 9:00pm to double-check that everything was really OUT out.   But right about sunset the guy doing the tarp on the roof noticed some smoldering in the attic over the kitchen.  It was in some of that blown insulation (which I've always wondered about) that seems to be nothing but ground newspaper.  It apparently holds a coal very well.  They called the fire department back, and they went in and tore into the kitchen sofit area and got the rest of it.   The guys were very professional, but nice and sympathetic at the same time.  Seriously our hats are off to those guys.

It is amazing how little in the house itself was damaged directly by the fire.  The fire crew had also taken care to take pictures off of walls, cookbooks off of the top of the cabinet, furniture out of that kitchen area, and covered everything with huge blue tarps to keep the water, insulation, and drywall off of the furniture and just about everything else.  They did a fantastic job -- way more than either of us ever expected from any fire department.  They'd moved my guitars from the wall downstairs and the living room into the bedroom ... the only room upstairs where there was virtually no visible damage from the fire or the water.

That's where the fire started.

At first, before we went in, I thought "oh, just a couple of days, and we can live in it while it's being fixed."

I wondered at first if it could be fixed by Christmas.

Most of the actual fire damage was in the attic, and the worst of it is that we store all of our Christmas decorations up there, and they were a near total loss.  If you know us, you know we put a lot of effort into decorating for Christmas.  Most of that stuff can be replaced.   Some of it, old stuff from Vicki's childhood and family... cannot.  (a footnote ... a few items actually survived.  I dug through melted plastic and ashes for it, and surprised us).

What a mess.

The insurance company said to get someone to board it up and keep the damage from getting worse.  John Neal knew a guy who did that kind of work, and he came and boarded the kitchen window that had broken out, and put a giant tarp over the damaged roof and the big hole.

We grabbed some clothes and toiletries.  Vicki's jewelry.  The guns from the safe.  And headed across town to Brian and Kristin's house.   

Damn.  The carpet's going to need replacing.  We're going to have to clear out the house if they're taking the roof off.  That's going to be a lot of work.  It'll be like moving!  Then we'll have to store all of it.  And where are we going to live for that period of time?

Ironically, this survived in the attic.
I found it in the debris on the
deck.  We had to keep it.

Over the next several days it became clear from the estimates we got ... this was going to be a big job.  60 to 90 days.   The rafters would have to come off of most if not all of the roof.  And in winter, long precipitation-free periods aren't common around here.

Vicki was retiring the following Friday.  She wondered how that was going to work with the stuff we thought we were going to have to do, but I guessed (correctly) that there wasn't much we could do in the next week anyway.  I met with the adjuster from American Family.  Nice guy.   And I was stunned at what our insurance actually covered.   I guess my agent steered me right.

They get Service Master and ServPro to bid on mitigation and cleanup.  They also move your stuff out, clean it, and store it, and bring it back and put it basically back where it was ("like it never even happened", the ServPro commercial goes).   A general contracting company or construction company comes in and fixes it up in the time being.

Ceiling in garage coming in on our
camping equipment.

The adjuster gave me the names of three companies.  Two of them in "their program" -- which basically means they meet certain standards and use the same estimating software and work together.  A third used to be in their program and probably would be in it again, too.

One company intrigued me.  A local (central Missouri) company called Aerodry ("in" the program) that would do it end to end from mitigation to cleanup, moving, and storage to construction.   If they bid against the other two companies and got the mitigation/cleanup end, I could work with one single company through the whole thing.

Roof being put on.  It's actually
done now.

One of the other two companies didn't even bid.  And Aerodry got the job, which made me very happy.

Due to weather, it took them a long time to get started on the roof.   In the mean time, I had  a lot of trouble sleeping, worrying what about this, what about that, what if .... I wasn't sleeping at all. I got a perscription for Ambien  for a few weeks.  That helped.

They've been very good to work with.  They also use a lot of local small businesses, and everyone I've met seems like good people.  Things are moving along.  I expect about another 5 weeks.  Longer than we expected.  But still.  I've heard of much worse.

Sky through the new rafters.

We are still staying with Brian and Kristin and Trenton.  We brought over enough stuff to get us by.  The insurance company would've put us up in an apartment or extended stay hotel.... but two things.  They pay Brian and Kristin rent for us -- which is cool for them.  And this is a much quieter place to live, and we get to see them every day, and help out with the house and with Trenton.   I'm sure we'll all be ready for us to move out.  But I think we're going to make it.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

A Place to Put His Stuff

"Papa, please stay."

Trenton grabbed my right pinky with his little hand as we went to leave their house the night of his birthday party.  We had just told him it was time for us to go home.

We stayed another 10 minutes.

(this post sat as a draft for months, and I never finished it.  But I want to remember this.  So I'm going to go ahead and post the fragment.)

note to self:  This had something to do with the John Deere wagon we got him.

Take the Time

I'm still learning to use my BOSS BR-600 recording "studio".   Here's a Freddy Jones Band cover. That's me on guitar, me on lead vocals, and me on backing vocals. :-)



Update: learned the auto-punch-in/out feature. Went back and edited out some of the really bad off-key warbles, and changed the harmonies on the "a matter of your pride" to lower harmonies which is more like the original, and fixed my big guitar flub-up near the end. Not sure I like the lower harmonies as well as the higher ones I used before. And I can hear a couple of editing errors in there as well. But ... progress.

Ok, now I re-did the whole thing because I liked the higher harmonies better, the repeated "matter of your pride", and this time it's consistent guitar all the way through, baby. Added a couple more harmonies and took the thicker ones out.

Going to the Park

Brian wanted to take Trenton to Rock Bridge Park today for Fathers Day, and he invited me along.  I, like Brian, hadn't been there in years.  And I've been thinking about taking Trenton out to a creek to splash around and have fun.  Throwing rocks and sticks. 

They came by the house to get me, and as soon as he got in the house, it was "Come on, Papa.  Are going to the park."

We packed along some water and some crackers and grapes for Trenton and drove down to the park and headed up the trail to the Rock Bridge.   Trenton didn't seem to want to stay long at any place, wanting to go down every muddy trail we weren't going down,  and he kept asking "where's the park"? as we hiked up the wooden-planked trails.  We kept telling him "we're in the park" -- and then it occurred to me, to him a Park is the same as a playground.  Swings.  Jungle Gyms.  Slides.  Sand.  So we told him this is a different kind of park.

He seemed marginally interested enough when we'd actually just take him to things.  He wasn't that impressed with the Rock Bridge. But he did seem to enjoy crossing the creek, throwing a few rocks and watching daddy throw a few rocks. And he liked Devil's Icebox, though he was a little leery of the dark corners.  He got to shine a flashlight around, which is something he likes doing anyway.  But he wanted to leave pretty quick. 

He was saying "we need to find the way out", and put a little drama into it, pointing the way to go.  He was referring to a Bob The Builder episode where Muck get's lost in the forest and finally finds her tracks and follows them out of the woods.  He really likes that episode.  And when we got near the end of the trail he wanted to go back up.  He was getting a little fussy.  We figured he was tired.  It was about 1:00pm.

At any rate, we got to the car and got the grapes and crackers and we sat at a picnic table and he ate and his attitude completely changed.  He wanted to go back, and he was serious.  He wanted to see the rock bridge again.  And this time he wanted to go in.  So we did.

We figured as long as he was interested now (since he figured out that we weren't going to swings and slides and things like that and this was pretty cool after all), we shouldn't discourage him from, as he put it, "we need to explore some more!"  and "let's go on an adventure".  So he wanted to go back up the stairs and back to Devil's Ice Box again, and he wanted to go back to the dark part and shine the flashlight.  And he wasn't afraid of getting his shoes wet (though we didn't want them wet) so I took his shoes off and stuck his feet in the cold, clear water.   At which point he was no longer interested in walking in the water and he wanted his shoes right back on.

Trenton has always been good at smiling for photos.  He's known exactly what anyone with a camera was doing since long before he could talk.  And Mama got him saying "Cheeeese" and we've gotten some pretty good shots out of that.

Only lately, he just goes through the ritual of saying CHEEEEEEEESE, not even looking at the camera and having his mouth in all kinds of contortions (he even sounds bored saying it).   So we were actually trying to get him to STOP saying Cheese and just smile.  But I have to admit, it is kind of funny.

We hiked back out, petted a couple of dogs and had the same "we need to find the way out" adventure on the way back to the truck.  And he still didn't want to leave.  Good sign. But he was very tired.    The hope was to get him back to our place, lay him down, and have him nap.  It was only maybe 10 minutes back to our house.

He didn't make it 5 minutes.

Unfortunately, he doesn't transfer "asleep" very well anymore, and he woke up and wanted to go watch ... "Muck gets lost in the woods."   We hoped he'd go to sleep, and seemed pretty close for a while... but ... no.

We grilled up some burgers for dinner, and had a couple gin and tonics (and the virgin version, lime and tonic, which is pretty good) and just generally hung out until it was time for them to go home.  I'm sure he was asleep within 3 minutes, and I hope he transferred to bed pretty well once they got home.  It would have been after 8:00 when they got there.

Nice Fathers' Day.

Wierd Dream

I had a really strange dream last night where Vicki and I were at a wedding reception that was outside where we sat at picnic tables. They had apparently hired Johnny Mathis to sing for them -- I don't know, to entertain the guests at the reception. He was sitting at our table singing songs without accompaniment. Very strange.

He launched into "Moon River" ... and Vicki and I started singing along, only we were singing the words my brother Chris made up to it when we were kids, and we were both laughing our butts off, and Mr. Mathis just kept singing though he was looking at us funny.

"Moon River
Wider than a mile
I'd love to see that crocodile
Smile
And when he goes
Down the aisle
He eats my file
And jumps into a pile
Of food
That dumb crocodile"

Hey. We were wierd kids. Guess we grew up to be wierd adults, too :-P

Superhero

The other day, it hit me.  Being a grandpa is a lot like being a superhero.  That is, if you're doing it right. Love, trust, and he thinks I can do anything. There's nothing I can't fix in his little mind. Which, from his point of view ... that's probably what it looks like.

I came home from work, and my little grandson was already there.  I opened the door, and I hear this little "Pop is here!  Pop is here!  Pop is here!  .... Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!!!!!"

He came careening down the hallway and hugged my right leg, pressing one of his little cheeks into my thigh and closing his eyes tightly.

Then it was down to business.  "I need you to help me get the TRAIN back on the TRACK!  I need you to fix it!  The coupler is broken and I need you to fix it!  Come on, Pop!" and he led me excitedly back to the living room where the little n-scale train set is.

I don't have the added association of being a daily giver of discipline with the dissapointment and begrudgement that engenders.   Plus I have the luxury of distracting him when he asks for something I can't give him.  Typically, a few hours later when he remembers he wants it, he'll be with mommy and daddy again.

But it's important for kids to have heroes, and I hope I can live up to it as he grows older.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like ...

I apologize.  It's been a long hiatus.  I never finished the vacation posts from last August, and I kept putting off new posts until I finished those, and, well ... you see where that's gotten me.

Meanwhile my young grandchild continues to provide me with more joy than I could have possibly imagined.   He's talking so much now.  

Apparently, the other night (he's a little over 2 and a half now) he told Kristin the other day "Mom, I need you to call Santa on the phone and tell him I NEED my new train tracks now." 

He has a whole Thomas set-up at our house and at his house, and both Mom & Dad and Papa & Nana are getting him more track for Christmas.

He also loves to play with my N-Scale electric train -- not really made for that kind of playing and he actually may have broken the engine ... we'll see.  But I figured out why he's suddenly so fascinated with it.   He put it on a glass table and said it was "ice", and says "the train is sliding on the ice", and when he's playing with it he replays another scene from the movie by yelling "Stop the train!  Stop the train!"   The Bachmann 4-8-4 ATSF engine I have looks a lot like the Polar Express train to him.

He seems to love the drama of putting the train back on the track -- which isn't an easy feat with N-Scale trains and 46 year old eyes in a relatively dark corner of the living room.  The wheels are small, the cars are light, the tracks are tiny -- and then add a grandson crawling on top of you while you do it.   "This is hard, isn't it Trenton?" 

"Don't worry, Pop.  I will help you!", he replies.

He's actually gotten to the point where he's getting cars back on the track correctly by himself, though the engine is very difficult and often it's just most of the way back on (the front wheels are very floppy).

Now I'm thinking of going and getting a Brio wooden train and painting it, and maybe adding some pieces to it and making it look like the Polar Express Train.  He loves that movie.

The Groves came and visited us back in early October, I think it was.  Man, Cassie is growing up.  I know I saw her at the beginning of August, but she floored me when they walked in our house, she looked so grown up with her hair cut and a (very) little makeup, I think, and not wearing playclothes.

It all went way too fast, as they were in for less than 24 hours.  We went to campus and wandered the Quad, and checked out Ellis Library a bit.  Campus has changed a lot since Mark visited it last.  Then we headed to Itchy's (mostly so the kids could look at Magic cards).  But mostly we just hung at the house.  Cards and guitars and yacking.

I have been, as Dad used to say, busier than a hound dog at a flea circus, relatively speaking.  Haven't been on walkabout in quite a while as Ryan's new job is keeping him very occupied.   Paul and Barbara came down and visited in late October, and we'd gotten ready for Jim and Carol the next weekend but they had to cancel because they suddenly sold their house near Vegas (*sniff!*) and had to go move.   I've been involved in a local Tea Party group here in Central Missouri, and of course whenever we get a chance to babysit we pretty much drop everything and happily do it.

I got a snazzy new phone.  I call it a smart-"ish" phone.... because T-Mobile considers it a "Phone First" phone rather than an internet device you can also make calls on ... but it has a good web browser and does applications and all.  I have to use reading glasses to read the screen, but I have to use those more and more anyway (even at work).  It has a pretty crappy 2MP camera that takes OK snapshots in broad daylight (above photo of Vicki) and fuzzy blu-ish looking ones indoors.  It takes pretty good video, though.  So anyway, I get the advantages of a smart phone but only $10 a month for unlimited internet.  That rocks.

Well I'll try to be better about posting and I do need to go back and fill in the rest of the vacation posts.  I have a brief voice log on a portable voice recorder .... I made the recording as I drove home.

So hopefully, this means "I'm back".

Goodbye, and a hike I'd been meaning to do

Wednesday morning rolled around, and it was time for the Groves to pack up and go.  I took the opportunity to organize my own gear so that Thursday morning my teardown could be as quick as possible.   We had some breakfast and they set about tearing down their tent.  I organized mine, and tore the food bin with the melted spot (from the exhaust) apart, throwing the remaining food in my Sam's Club refrigerator bag.  I cut the bin up with my survival knife to fit it in the trash bin, gathered all my other trash, but everything away I wouldn't be using that night or the next morning, and I walked down to the ranger station to see if there was a possibilty of changing sites right away to get away from the foul-mouthed giggly pot smokers. 

It was too early, and I decided then and there that I just wouldn't come back to the campsite until 10:00pm that night and slip my earphones in and I could deal with one more night of them.

While they packed the truck, I re-organized my car.

I had a couple of wooden flutes I'd brought along to give the kids to remember the trip by.  I gave them to them and we had our goodbye hugs and they were off before I knew it.

It was a nice day, so I decided to head for Chasm Lake.

It was supposedly only a 4.5 mile hike one way, and I didn't have time to see it when I climbed Longs in '07.   You get a full view of the Diamond Face, the lake .... sounded like a cool thing to see.

I got my water and food together, went in to town for more block ice, called Vicki to let her know where I'd be, and headed down CO 7 toward the Longs Peak Trailhead.

It was more crowded at 10:00 in the morning than it was at 2:30 am a few years ago.  Anyone who was serious about climbing Longs that day had gotten there long before I did today.  But I was headed only about halfway up.  So I had to park about 1/4 mile down the road from the parking lot and hike up the road to the lot and to the trailhead.

I ran into a couple from Insbrook, Austria at the trailhead. They were going to Chasm Lake as well.  I told them they'd probably beat me there, but perhaps I'd see them there.   I strapped my daypack on and started up the trail.

I had forgotten how relentless the Longs Peak trail is -- almost from the very beginning.  To get to the top you gain 5,000 feet in about 8 miles.   And a bit over half of that is on the way up to the split in the trail at Mt. Lady Washington where you go left to Chasm Lake or right around that mountain to the boulder field.

The lake itself is just under 12,000 feet, but you get up to about 12,000 feet before heading down a long, shallow trail toward it and then scrambling over another 150, 200 feet over a lip of rock at the end.

As with the last time I climbed, people were passing me right and left.  Ok, mostly left ;-)  But I knew this time about how far it was before you broke the tree line, and I pushed myself harder than last time.  I thought to myself that it was a good thing I did this in the dark before, because if I'd seen the relentless slope of the trail through the woods I might have been more discouraged.

Nah, it wouldn't have stopped me on that day.

A ranger lady was coming down the trail on my way up.  I gave her the "head bob" and waved and went by without a word.  Talked to a few people who had peaked and were on their way down, and a few people who didn't.  One guy told me he got to the homestretch and said "no way".  I told him I understood ... when I was there I looked up it -- but I was prepared for the psychological shock by reading stories of other people who had climbed it.   I told him it's not as bad as it looks, but it is pretty daunting.  It helped me to know that 1) thousands of people have done it, and 2) I could see people ahead of me, doing it when I was there.  He also said it was pretty windy.

It was a bit windy.  But I wouldn't be anywhere that dangerous today.

I began to break the tree line after a couple of hours of hiking, which of course reminded me of why I was doing this in the first place.   Forest is pretty, but I love the high country above the tree line and that's what I was after today.   The tall trees couldn't disappear soon enough.   I wandered the switchbacks through the tundra meadow, having breif conversations with people as I made my way and took as few rest breaks as I could, opting for hiking v-e-r-y  s-l-o-w-l-y for a few minutes rather than stopping when I got tired.  One foot in front of the other, as the song goes.

The fork in the trail seemed to get farther and farther away as I hiked, as more ground revealed itself between me and it.   Besides, I thought the lake would be just over the ridge and down a hundred feet or so.

I finally topped the ridge right near the fork in the trail, and talked to a fellow there who just loved Chasm Lake.  He was waiting on the rest of his party.   Since it was mostly a welcome downhill from there, I didn't linger long and pushed on.   He passed me again with a part of his party a little later.

The valley on that side of the ridge was lush, green, and beautiful with a mountain stream running through it.  Near the head of the valley up by the "lip" where the lake was (still not visible) there were two beautiful waterfalls.  It was something out of a fantasy novel, really.  I of course took some pictures as I went along.

I had brought the Pentax because I knew I'd want it when I reached Chasm Lake and perhaps a few places before.  I had all my camera gear in my fanny pack, which I caribinered to my frameless daypack.

This was not the best idea for comfort.   It was too much weight for the daypack, and the waist belt wasn't taking the brunt of the extra weight -- my shoulders were.  And they were sore.  It was making the hike unpleasant.  But I tried to ignore it and continued on.   I started designing a frame for the pack to mitigate this problem in the future -- in my head as I went along.

I ran across a big patch of Columbine near .... Columbine Falls ... and took a shot of those.  I caught up with the guy who loved this hike so.  A bunch of his party was still more than half a mile up the trail and not budging.  He really wanted them to come down to see this place, which he believed was the prettiest place in the park.  It was difficult to argue with the man.  He just might be right.  But he said his younger son was worried about catching a plane that afternoon.  Poor planning on his part did not constitute an emergency on this man's part, he said.  He pointed to the rock wall (not really a wall) I'd have to scramble over to get to the lake.  I splashed on on the trail that crossed the shallow stream, and right over the head of the second waterfall, and had spectacular views of the valley.   But before I knew it I was at the Big Lip.

A group of about a dozen tweens with some adults were coming down from the lake.  Apparently they had swum in its icy waters, too (I'm sure MUCH colder than the Big Thompson down in Moraine Park.)  Another man was hiking down with a baby in a baby backpack with a sunshade on top.  That's love, man. 

My camera suddenly didn't feel so bad.

On top of that I ran into the couple from Insbrook coming back down.  They recognized me.  And after a few minutes I topped the lip and was looking at the Diamond Face and Chasm Lake.   There were maybe 6 or 8 other people there.  A few of them had come down from Longs via the Loft Route.  Others were just sitting on the rocks enjoying the view.

There was a lady there, maybe late 50's in a yellow top and black biking shorts who said this would be her last trip here.  She loved this spot and had always wanted to come back, but it had been over 20 years and this hike was a bit tough for her.  She lives in Nederland ... one of those cool mountain towns I'd love to live in.  She'd moved there in her early 20's from Florida.   She wanted her picture taken there, which I took for her, and she took a couple of me with my camera, and we said our farewells.   I hung out and ate the food I'd promised myself.  It was about 2:30 pm.  It had taken every bit of 4 hours to get here.

Like the man in the valley had said, Chasm Lake was a bit of a letdown, scenery wise after the beauty of that valley, but this was the destination and it had a stark beauty all its own.  Besides, you got to inspect the Diamond Face pretty well sitting there on the big boulders this side of the lake.   There was a patch of ice or two left over from winter in the shade on the rocks, but it was mainly rock.

After a couple of self portraits and a look at the sky ... which was beginning to show signs of orthographic storm building, I headed out, over the lip, across the stream, and back toward the fork in the trail on the ridge.

Of course a long shallow slope down on the way in becomes a long shallow slope up on the way out, but it wasn't bad, and it's literally all downhill from the fork.

I passed several people, including the lady I'd met at the lake.   We kept leap-frogging each other, hiking together for a while, then I'd move on, and she'd catch up later.  I ran into an older gentleman that I spent a lot of time talking to on the way down.   I stopped to rest on a boulder in a stream by a bridge just below the tree line.  The lady caught up with me.  I continued and caught up with the older gentleman.   At some point she passed us, and we caught up to her with another guy who looked a bit worse for wear, and she was asking if anybody had any water to spare.  I had like 4 ounces left in my hydration bladder.  I told him if we could get to a stream I could filter him all the water he needed, but another European couple (German or Austrian or Swiss ... that area) had an extra bottle they handed him.

I ran into a very worried lady toward the end of the trail asking if I'd seen a wheezing woman in a yellow top and black shorts.  I said yes, I'd seen her, but she wasn't wheezing and that she was fine and probably less than 10 minutes behind me.   It was more like 4.  The lady was relieved to see her.

Got back to the trailhead, signed out, found my car, and headed in to Estes Park.

I decided I needed a shower, and went to Dad's Laundry and Showers.   Then I decided I needed clean socks, so I did some laundry as well.  Called Vicki while I did laundry.  Went into Estes Park.  Had an Elk Burger at Grubsteak at my "old" table (a table for two in the window that they lead lone vacationers like me to).   And as it got dark I headed back to camp.

I got there, and the wind was kicking up.  I noticed some of the extra tiedowns I'd added to the criss-crossing tent poles had pulled out, and as I got into the tent I realized something wasn't right.  And rain started to fall.

Rain?  I dont' remember rain in the forecast.  Not for the evening anyway!    But the sides of my tent were bulging inward much more than they should've been.   I figured out why.  One of the corner stakes had been pulled out (probably by wind) as well.   I set about re-securing the corners and my extra tent-pole stays as the wind really started whipping and the rain started to get serious just as I finished and I slipped into the tent, undressed, popped my headphones on, and watched the tent flap in the wind but hold steady for a few minutes, and passed out cold.

The Swimmin' Hole, a Near Tragedy, and Foul Mouthed Neighbors

It was about 4:00 in the afternoon by this time, and I knew we didn't have a whole long time before sunset and a cool down.  It was around 80 degrees in the valley, as opposed to the 55 degrees in the mid-day heat up on the mountain.

Mark and the kids got right in the cold water the moment we reached the spot Cassie had in mind.  I had put on my quick dry shorts and a quick dry shirt thinking I might want to jump in myself.  And it wasn't more than a few minutes before I started in. 

I threw my shirt on the ground, and so as not to lose my wedding ring in the cold water, tossed it on my shirt.  Got up past my knees and did the only sensible thing ... made a shallow dive from there to get the shock of the cold water over with.   A few more dives and swishing around and I was done.  I got back out and put my shirt back on and plinked on the guitar while Mark and the kids swam, and occasionally took pictures of them.  Mark got out and took a few shots of me playing the backpacker.  Then we all went back in for another dip.

As we were getting ready to leave and I put my watch back on, I noticed I was missing something.  

My ring.

I couldn't remember putting it back on after getting out the first time.  But I put my shirt back on.  Which means I had forgotten my ring was there and it got tossed aside into the grass, OR I HAD put it back on and lost it in the cold water (your fingers shrink in cold water!  I've lost one that way before at Jacks Fork!). 

For evidence of what probably happened, I went back to the camera at the pictures Mark took of me playing the guitar to see if I had the ring on then.

I didn't.


That meant it was likely in the grass.

I was about ready to give up on it, but Mark and the kids were looking diligently and Mark wasn't giving up.  I was trying to be cavalier about it so as not to put a damper on everyone else's vaction, but inside I was a little panicked and seriously bummed .  Just as I thought all was lost I felt something under the ball of my right foot.  Underneath it, pressed into the mud, was my ring.

Whew!!!!

Mark thought we should all go into town and celebrate with a dinner, but by the time we got back to the campsite we were both in a more frugal mood and dug into the food-a-plenty we had brought with us ... opting for a trip into town for ice cream afterward.  Mark's treat (thanks, Mark!).  It was very good ice cream.  We also stopped at a kind of cool, kookie Nepali-Paki-Indian store where Mark picked up a cool dress for Cami, and I called Vicki from the balcony of the store.

Then it was back to camp and for a run-in with our new neighbors -- a group of late teen-ish underwear showin', skinny jean wearin', "pants on the ground", foul-mouthed, giggly a**ed, pot smokin' emo-ish ... boys ... who were annoying to say the least. On the other side, Mark said we had people who stayed up late into the night talking about dog breeding.

Thankfully, my "sleep music" on my MP3 player drowns just about everything out. Unfortunately, that also means no sounds of wind in the trees and splashing mountain streams. But no snoring or giggly, inconsiderate pot smoking teenagers, either. Seriously, next time, kids -- go smoke in some National Forest campsite in a remote site where you won't bother people - especially people with kids.

Next time, reservations at Moraine Park. And a walk-in.

This was the Groves' las night in the park.  They would pack and leave in the morning.  Wow.  That went quick.

To the High Country!

Tuesday dawned with bright sunshine and a little kickup in the wind, but not too bad.  My little gasoline/kerosene stove made coffee for us again, thanks to Mark's coffee supply and efforts.  Apparently it burns more gas than a lantern, though.  I didn't bring extra fuel, but since the lantern wasn't ever used on this trip, I raided its tank for more.

Perfect day to hit the high country.  Mostly clear to puffy-white-cloud partly cloudy skies.  The views should be spectacular.  And that was the plan.  

After breakfast and cleanup, we stopped once again at the trash facilities and filled our hydration bladders, and piled back into the car and headed for Trail Ridge Road -- IMHO one of the Park's greatest human-enhancements to the park.  Not that the road doesn't mar the view, but the road allows so many who can't or won't climb to the heights necessary to see the part of the world I call "God's Country" -- the land above the tree line - to go there and see it anyway.

Since we'd gotten there we'd promised the kids the top of a mountain, because we knew that Sundance is a mere 1/4 mile hike from the Rock Cut parking lot on Trail Ridge.  It would be doable.  Barring that, there is a 12,005 foot unnamed peak with a similarly short (but much steeper) trail to the top right next to the Trail Ridge Road's Alpine Visitor's Center & and the Trail Ridge Road Store and Cafe.

A man told me he'd been over the road in the spring and the Alpine Visitor's Center. was completely covered in snow and that he in fact had walked on the snow over the top of it.  It's not a tiny structure, either -- One of the rangers at the store was telling a tourist that the top of the two storey window facing the valley (away from the parking lot) was visible in early June, and the whole thing wasn't clear until mid to late July.  We were there in early to mid August, and there was little snow to be seen anywhere. 

The few weeks of summer, unfortunately, is the only time they really have to work on the road, so they try to avoid it as much as possible during the peak of the season ... but the whole summer is pretty busy, and they were working on it while we were there, re-paving road surface and parking lots.  They had it down to one lane and let traffic flow each way in 15 minute shifts.  One of the parking lots they were resurfacing was the Rock Cut parking lot with the trail to the top of Sundance, so we scooted by it and went to the Alpine Visitor's Center.

When we arrived, the trail to the top of the unnamed peak was closed for maintenance.  We went in, and I bought a replacement USGS Long's Peak Marker replica pin ... I lost mine ... to pin on my hat.  Also got a nice water-proof & tear-resistant topo map of the park.  Next door at the store, I looked for some jewelry for Vicki ... ended up getting her a silver aspen leaf (she already has gold ones) with a bit of abalone??? (everyone knows mountains and abalone go together like ... ) ... well it's pretty anyway.  I also got an RMNP coffee cup for myself and an RMNP keychain bottle opener.   I think the kids enjoyed the view and the shopping.  Between the two buildings there's an overlook and we could see a small herd of elk in the distance with binoculars.  You can also see Sundance Mountain from there, and the lush green valley that Old Fall River Road comes up.

A ranger told us that there should be 4 or 5 parking spaces at Rock Cut, so on our way back we found one and swooped into it and commenced the short hike up the tundra trail to the top of Sundance Mountain.  This part of the mountain has some odd rock formations on the top of it where harder rock capped more limestoney rock and there are pillars of limestone underneath little caps of harder stone. 

Cassy found a small cave-let in one and Mark and Cassie and Q sat and ate lunch in it.  We spent a decent amount of time watching the kids climbing around and playing with the walkie-talkies, soaking in the beautiful view, blue skies, puffy white clouds, and peaks and ranges rippling over each other to the horizon in all directions.

Eventually we walked back down to the car and hopped in, timing it just perfectly to be let through by the traffic lady.  I asked what the kids wanted to do on the way down, and Cassie immediately piped up that she wanted to get completely wet in the Big Thompson River.  She'd been obsessed with this since she got to wade in it on Sunday and saw the other kids swimming in it.

Nathanial said he wanted to climb another mountain.  Since the question was "what do you want to do on the way down?" and not "when we get down" ... we stopped and climbed a ridge near where the road finally makes a dip below the trees down into Horseshoe Park.  Cassie was really in no mood for more hiking and sat down on a rock and contented herself looking at the flowers and tundra plants.  I climbed to the top of the ridge where Mark and Nathanial spotted a patch of snow.  Both kids had wanted to see snow, and Mark and Nathanial headed off toward it.

It was a lot farther than it looked, maybe almost a half mile away.  But they made it and played in it a little while.  Meanwhile 3 ladies came to the top of the ridge and were taking pictures of each other.  I offered to take one of all of them, and they happily took me up on it.  Seems they were three friends who don't see each other often, and each wanted a copy for their respective refrigerators.

After Mark & Q got back, we went back to the car and decended off the mountain, down to the parks below and back to the campsite.  There we changed quickly into swimming clothes.  I grabbed my backpacker guitar and a stool and we headed for Moraine Park and the Big Thompson.

Alberta Falls & Mills Lake, Plus Elk

Monday morning came early, as it usually does when you're camping.  Our neighbors this morning appeared to be a pair of grandparents and a couple of grandsons. Nice enough people. We still weren't sure whether we'd do Trail Ridge Road and hit a mountaintop or two, or go to the Bear Lake area.

The weather decided for us.  The clouds had the high mountains socked in, and it was raining up there ... pretty much anywhere we wanted to go.  Back in '05, when I was there by myself I asked a park ranger what a good rainy day activity would be.  She said "Waterfalls".

Cassie had seen a postcard of Alberta Falls and said she'd like to see it.

Done.  Decided.  After breakfast, it was off to Bear Lake.

If you don't get to the Bear Lake Parking Lot by 9:00am during tourist season, you probably won't be parking there.  You'll probably have to go back and do "Park and Ride".  We were pushing that time, but the rain was keeping the hikers down.

It wasn't exactly raining in our campsite, but along the high mountains from Longs to Hallett and on northward there were some persistent dark clouds that were obviously precipitating in the high country.  We packed our ponchos, got our backpacks full of granola and trail mix and water and protein bars and jerky and apples .... hey, gotta be prepared for a 5 mile round trip hike!  

Alberta falls is only about a mile from Bear Lake.  We actually didn't even stop at Bear Lake ... figured we'd do it on the way back.  It's right at the trailhead.  This time I knew that the first encounter with the river wasn't the falls itself, though if you didn't know you could mistake it for your destination.  It looks "fall-ey" enough.  

We stopped and oohed and ahhed and took some photos.  And then Mark asked the kids if they'd like to travel on to Mills Lake, another mile and a half.   Cassie wasn't feeling well and said she was done with hiking.  But the majority won, and off we hiked through the woods.

Literally, at first.  It turns out that the trail brushes the falls on kind of a switchback, so if you climbed up to the top of the falls, you aren't really on the trail anymore.  You're maybe 50 yards down a forest slope from it.   But the GPS told the story, and we went and found it and hiked on.

There is some very pretty hiking in here.  You cross the stream several times, and there is some relatively dense forest all around.  It was a wetter summer than the past two times we'd been there, and mushrooms were everywhere.  These big ones that grow around pines that I believe are edible (but don't take my word for it!) and lots of pretty red ones with white spots and several other kinds pushing up out of the forest floor.

Mills lake is only about 500 or 600 feet above the trailhead, but you drop at least 200 feet on the trail before you start going up.  So for kids who aren't used to mountain hiking and they're on their second day above 1,000 feet back in Kansas City, it's not the proverbial walk in the park.  (Well, I guess technically it is.)  But we were in no real hurry.

I'm sure by the time we actually got to the lake, they no longer believed that we were "almost there".  But when we got there, of course, you get an impressive view of Glacier Gorge and a nice lake with large granite slabs sticking out into it to sit on, and, say ... have lunch.  Always a hit with kids :-)  

The gorge itself is impessive with giant granite walls ground down by, as the name suggests, glacier activity.  You can see The Trough and the top of Longs Peak if you know where to look, and the Indian Head at the end of the canyon.  We hung out for a little over an hour before heading back. After lunch both kids were in much better spirits.  By the time we left, a thick cloudy, foggy bank poured over the far lip of Glacier Gorge, hiding the ridges.  The return hike was steadily downhill until about the last 3/4 mile.   I called Vicki from a spot I'd called her from back in '05 that I still had marked on my GPS where we got a couple of T-Mobile bars and said hello and updated her on our trip and what we were doing.  I think the GPS actually had the round trip at a little over 6 miles, including our meanders.  But by the end of the hike both were tired and I think Q's blood sugar was getting low.   They were both "done".We drove down to the camp and took hour long naps.  The campground was completely dry.

We fired up some dinner, and about the time we were cleaning up, the lady half of the C loop campground hosts came by and said "have you ever seen a herd of Elk?  There are like 50 of them down in Moraine Park."  Well Mark and I certainly had, but the kids hadn't.  Mark and the kids were at the service sink by the bathrooms washing dishes.  I went and got them.  Mark took over the dishwashing to get it done as quickly as possible, and we piled in the car down to Moraine Park.  They were still there, and docile.  You could get up pretty close and personal without agitating them.  It was pretty cool.   The lighting wasn't great for photos unless you went up the valley and came back like Mark and I did a few years ago, but we contented ourselves to trying a few shots from the down-sun side and monitoring the kids.  They really enjoyed the encounter.

Back to the site for a fire, s'mores, a Mark Ghost Story, couple beers.  Cassie went to bed early, but Mark, Nathanial, and I stayed up and watched the stars come out.  I pointed out the arc of the planets.  We found the Big Dipper and a few other constellations.  Nathanial spotted a couple of man-made sattelites.  And finally, the Milky Way popped out when it got dark enough.

And we turned in for the night.