"Back in the early days, weeks, and months last summer as I began to make my new life here along the Western Slopes of the state of Colorado, I was asked many times of how I liked it living in the mountains. Without a doubt, my response back was always pretty much the same, perhaps even word for word, as I replied......"
A very early "good morning" to all of you my dear friends and family from a place far away. I'm at the kinda/sorta but not REALLY halfway point between my old home in Kansas and my new home in Colorado. I'm on the way back to the Sunflower state today on a very short 3-day weekend break to continue the proverbial "tying up of loose ends" that remain of my life back there. I took out after school yesterday afternoon and got to a good stopping point to rest for a while. Now in a very short while I will continue on the road, pushing eastward towards the state of my birth and my life, KANSAS.
Yesterday we took the fourth-graders from our school on a field trip to Ouray and visited one of the great museums of the area. Now that I have gotten older, I have begun to love history for the first time in my life and since I know very little of the area, it was a great learning lesson not only for the kids but for me as well. We spent a busy 90 minute time period wandering in small groups throughout all of the rooms in the museums three stories as well as adjacent outbuildings on the grounds. The kids really did seem to love it and as a teacher, it just drove home the point to me once again that kids can learn in lots of places and inside the classroom is only one of them. At lunch time we headed towards the park near the entrance to the Box Canyon where the kids and adults could eat, rest and have some fun before the afternoon commenced.
After lunch our plan was to hike into the Box Canyon and do some exploring of the area. The kids were excited for that because for most of them, they have lived here all their lives and hiking through the rough mountains is something they do naturally. For me, well for me I'm not sure that "excited" was the way I was feeling about it all as a matter of fact, I kinda was feeling just the opposite and MY real feeling went by the name of "dread" and the chances of it being renamed to something way more positive went by the name "slim to none". It would be my first time EVER to do something like that and in my mind I began to worry about slipping and falling, breaking yet another bone in my body, a medical helicopter having to be called in, and fodder for a pretty interesting blog in the months to come. I couldn't let the kids know although some of them began to figure out as time went on.
Back home in the flatlands of Kansas, I went walking all the time. Shoot in my old neighborhood, I'd be walking a mile or two each day. In the good days of riding my bike, I'd take out and be gone for a ten-mile ride easily each and every day. It was not that I didn't like to exercise, it was just that I always did it on land that was level and stationary and safe and in Kansas. Colorado is a much different kind of story.
When we started to enter the canyon, the rise was gradual and not all that difficult to traverse. My main concern was hoping that no wandering fourth-grader would venture too close to the edge and fall into the canyon. For the record, that didn't happen. Even the somewhat steeper climb up and into the waterfall area wasn't too bad. We just took our time, taking care on the remaining ice and snow pack, getting closer with each step to the sound of the rushing water. All of us paused to rest and enjoy the wonderful scene there tucked into the backdrop of the beautiful Box Canyon. Then, well then came the real part of the hike and it was the part that told me what this flatlander transplant to the mountains would have to be made of in order to survive. And for the record, I did.
I stopped counting the number of stairs that we had to climb in our quest to get to the top where the bridge lies as it connects to the tunnel. There's a good reason that I stopped counting and that good reason was that I was having a heck of time breathing. As a matter of fact, my very short-lived, 58-year old life flashed before me numerous times on the ascent. My lungs began to feel as if they would explode, big time, more than once. One poor kid looked back at me with a look of deep concern on his face and said, "Hey Mrs. Renfro. Are you all right? Are you gonna make it?" There is a good chance that he probably heard the heavy sound of my breath as I gasped to take in all that I could with each passing step climb up. For me it only got worse as the ascent went on. Not only was the altitude beginning to get me, the rocks and boulders that lie in the path were not the easiest to climb over. I wanted to quit, no kidding and very for real, at least a gazillion times along the way. But something held me back from doing that and I think that something was that I really did NEED to make it to the top. It wasn't for the kids, although it would be nice that their teacher would be up there to supervise them. Rather, I did it for myself and you know what? I made it without a broken bone to even write about.
The way back down was not easy, even though you would think it might be so. A very dear and sweet girl from my class named Sierra walked alongside of me all the way. I could see that it might be harder than I thought to make it from the top and back down again so I told her that if she would just walk right beside me and hold my hand to guide me down the slipperiest and most unstable of the rocks that I was sure I could make it. That young lady did exactly what I asked of her and it was so sweet to hear her say to me.......
"It's ok Mrs. Renfro cause sometimes people that are older walk slower than the others." That'd be me :)
On the way back home to school, I had a lot of time to think about the hours on the road that would lie ahead of me. After the ordeal of hiking through an area such as we did, I began to realize something about myself and the something was this........
I AM NOT A QUITTER~
As I think back to the early days here, a newlywed and extremely homesick woman from a place so very far away, I wanted to give up so badly. I even tried to talk Mike into moving back to Kansas and starting our lives there instead of out here in the West. Numerous times my thoughts were of returning on my own, giving it up as a very bad mistake. I'm "calling my own self out" here and recognizing that I didn't realize just how much this place, once very foreign to me, would end up meaning to me in the months that would lie ahead. Now I DO know and it's not too late in fact, I have found that kind of peace at the right and appointed moment in time for me.
I'm sure that back in the early days of life here that my response to people who asked me how I liked living in Colorado was probably, word for word, always the same. In fact, my mouth flew open and spewed the words out without my even thinking about it most times.
"I don't like it here! I hate the mountains because that's all you see is mountains. I wish someone would bulldoze a hole right through them so you could see to the other side, so I could see Kansas from here. I miss home back there."
Time and time again, it was my standard response. Even when I began teaching at Olathe, my feelings really had not changed in the least. A strange thing happened along the way to making my peace with living here. I made friends with people who really did understand what my dear husband Mike had been telling me all the while. That it would take "baby steps" perhaps for me and that if I only gave things half of a chance, I might actually some day be able to say that I like it here. I guess that some day finally arrived for me and I have to say, without a doubt, that's a good thing for me. Knowing in my heart that I will always love my life as a Kansan, I can also say that I love my life as a Coloradoan. My heart can stay in both places and I'm going to be just fine.
Well, it's time to sign off for now and get ready to return to the road ahead of me. I'll be making this journey a couple of more times before all is said and done for the month of May. Much yet remains to be finished back in Reno County but I know in the end, it will all be ok. I will always be grateful for the blessings that both states have now given me. In the very least of things, I give thanks to God above. In the numerous journeys I have taken along the road between Montrose and Hutchinson, I have never travelled alone. God is with me, here and now and my heart really does rest in that faith. See you soon Reno County, Kansas. I haven't forgotten the way back there yet.
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