Rocky Mountain High

A collection of unconnected thoughts that may become a story like different colored threads weave a patterned fabric, all the pieces that make memories and weave a life.   Arlington Heights High School, my parents, a hot air balloon ride, faith, family.

Thread 1:  my parents took me on a vacation to Colorado sometime in my youth, Daddy driving us there, non-stop.  They hated Colorado and everything about the trip.

Thread 2:  John Denver.  As John Deutschendorf, his real name, John Denver graduated a few years before me at AHHS.   I loved his folk music in those Peter, Paul and Mary, Three Dog Night, Credence Clearwater Revival years, but it didn’t really connect. 

Thread 3:  my biggest dream and #1 bucket list item has, for a long time, been to ride in a hot air balloon.

Thread 4:  my mother raised me right, to believe and to love God.

Thread 5:  I have the best family in the world, and I love all of them very much.

Now for the weaving.

When Reagan, Diane and Kayla gave me the trip to Colorado for Christmas, I was stunned and excited.  Hot air balloon!  I’d be tickled to ride over Buna, and Colorado, well, okay.  With the travel voucher was a framed photo of the Rocky Mountains, some snow-capped, some green, and a beautiful meadow below.  Cool.  The hot air balloon was all that was on my mind.  When Mother met Jesus, the trip became a reality.  I don’t think she’d mind that.  She loved to travel and didn’t start until she was nearly my age, but she sure didn’t like Colorado. 

And we were off, on a jet plane.  (Thank you, John Denver.  Peter, Paul and Mary sang it, but John wrote it.)   My first glimpse of the mountains was what we surmised to be majestic, snow-capped Pike’s Peak which we later traveled up on a cog railway.  The views were magnificent, trees, mountains, huge rock formations.  Early Thursday morning, the bucket-list dream came true with the balloon ride.  If there are words to describe it, I don’t have them.  Diane said my face told it all.  It was beyond anything I could ever have imagined.  Who needs Paris?  Perfect peace, serenity, soft music playing, looking up and down and all the way around, hanging over the side.  Bliss.  What more could there be?

Then we went to Estes Park on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park.  Friday morning we packed a lunch and set off into the park.  A nice ride through the park, sure.  I had ridden the balloon and was mentally still up in it.  Then a little way into the park, after visiting with the ranger in the Smokey-the-Bear hat, I saw IT, the view from my picture.  It all came together and all came alive.  And as we traveled on, there was more, and more and more, all spectacular and we climbed higher and higher.  Aside here: at Vanguard, Dave had us read and discuss this book which had a whole chapter about God vs. science in creation.  Scientists say that it’s all a matter of coincidence in things coming together.  Believers say that it couldn’t have happened without God’s hand.  I don’t think the scientists saw what I saw in that park.  All I could think of was the poem Ronald Reagan read after the Challenger explosion, “I have slipped the surly bonds of earth . . .  . .put out my hand and touched the face of God."   I felt like I could have. 

We had many adventures in the park, picnicked on a table surrounded by snow, (a ham and cheese sandwich never tasted so good), looked for bears and big horn sheep, saw deer, elk, turkeys, the marmots that Thoreau talked about, Chip and Dale, and a MOOSE!  All the while wrapped in the spectacular scenery of the Rocky Mountains.  My camera ran out of memory. 

Saturday morning the terror set in.  White water rafting.  I was afraid of many things:  not being able to get in the boat, not being able to get out of the boat, not paddling right, not leaning right, mortifying myself or my family.  All those fears were unfounded.  The guides were great, and Reagan hauled me in and out, yet again.  We took two trips, and while we saw “swimmers” (people who fell out) and two boats overturned, ours did not.  I slept well.

Sunday morning, we took a last trip to the park.  When I saw “the view” again, it was church.  I love my church and the community of faith, but God was definitely in this place and evidence of His handiwork wrapped around it.  Genesis 1:  “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good --the sixth day.”  It sure was.  My window kept going up and down, my phone clicking away.  At one point I heard Reagan ask Di what I was taking pictures of, and she replied, “the mountain…she wants to make sure she got it.”

Then it was back to Denver, watching the Rockies recede in the distance, and leaving again on the jet plane.  I told Reagan I don’t want to go to Cypress Glen, I want to go to the mountains.  He said “No.”

All the way home in the car, my head swirled with emotions I didn’t know how to express.  It was amazing, awe-inspiring and, just Too Cool.  Then home:  happy puppies, unhappy Emmy, Daniel, Chris mowed the grass, a tropical storm is coming, the Polaris has a broken part.  There definitely is a Rocky Mountain High, John Denver, and I had to come off of it.  But life is good.  I have shirts that say so. 

Reagan, Diane and Kayla gave me the adventure of a lifetime.  Shannon, James, Daniel and Melly kept the safe haven of home safe.  My family is the greatest treasure.  Who needs Paris?