A Trip to Remember

When you live in Texas, Colorado is a kind of paradise.

Back in July, when it seemed like traveling to see family might be possible again, we started dreaming about what a final, pre-school year vacation might look like. Because Elaine’s dad had his military retirement ceremony at the end of July, it seemed like the best chance to enjoy some natural beauty, escape the oppressive heat, and have genuine family time was to join them up in Colorado Springs.

I’ve personally been to Colorado (Denver, Colorado Springs, and Fort Collins) at least six or seven times in the last decade. Each time, I love it, and each time, I forget how much I loved it after I’m home for a while.

I got to witness my best friend from high school graduate from the Air Force Academy there. We spent a New Year’s there with our friends Audrey and Landon when Lyla was still just a baby. In the last few years, I went to visit my friend Chad multiple summers in a row, usually for a quick weekend trip to help a conference happen.

No matter what, though, the clean mountain air is the first thing I notice and the first thing I miss when I get home. There’s something about the dryness (I grew up in Lake Charles, LA, which might as well have water for air. DFW is pretty dang humid too) of the air, the cool evenings and mornings, and the mountains off in the distance that just make me feel a little more alive.

Anyway, we packed our car up on August 1, and headed on up to the Springs. Because we’re homeschooling this year, we left without a definite return date, but we knew we’d be gone for at least two weeks. This was so freeing for all of us — there was no pressure to squeeze in everything we wanted to do in a week.

So naturally, we just hung out the first week. Took naps. Read books. Played Nintendo. (I also had some work to do — the joys of remote life).

After about a week, we started throwing in some of the good stuff.

We celebrating Lyla’s birthday with cake and a movie theater all to ourselves. To celebrate our tenth anniversary a couple a couple days later, Elaine and I got to spend a night away. The next day we drove out to Seven Bridges which was suggested to us by a childhood friend of Elaine’s. A few things that stand out in my mind from this trip:

• As we drove up the mountain, the temperature dropped from 78 degrees to 58. If the mountain air felt good down at the base, it was just delightful the higher up we got.
• From the moment we started on the trail, the views were exactly what I needed. As anyone who has been on a mountain knows, language can’t capture the sheer majesty of mountains, forests, streams, and valleys.
• Peeing in the forest > peeing in a bathroom
• All the hikers we came across were super friendly and helpful
• It’s always important to know your limits (or, turn around when appropriate so you don’t die)

We loved Seven Bridges so much that we brought the whole family back the day before we left just so they could experience the cold stream and the beautiful views.

We did lots of walks every day on the Air Force base that Elaine’s parents lived on, and apparently there is quite a large population of bunnies. Almost every night, the girls got to go “bunny hunting.” I think their record was something like 40 bunnies on a 20 minute walk.

I also did a lot of running (as much as the altitude would permit, anyway). Running with mountains in the background was a beautiful change of pace compared to running on a trail at home where I frequently come across snakes. *shudder*

All in all, it was an unforgettable trip. We’re coming up on the end of the “Year of Plenty.” I’m sure we’ll write another post to talk through money, time, and some of the lessons we’ve learned. But right now, I’m just thankful that our current situation allowed us to take such a long trip. If I had stayed at either of my prior jobs, a trip like this would never have been possible.

*Note from Elaine: I did a terrible job of taking photos with my camera this trip because I did so much relaxing so there are definitely iPhone pics mixed in.