~the view from Monarch Pass, otherwise known as "being not afraid"~

     The rain finally came to our side of the mountains in the overnight hours.  All afternoon long yesterday we watched the clouds build up over the San Juan range to our south and figured we would be seeing the moisture come by today.  We were right.  It's a gentle rain thus far and one that probably won't stay around for long.  A quick check on my phone's weather app indicates that by late afternoon it will be all but gone from here.  The high temperatures for the week here along the Western Slope are predicted to be in the mid to upper 80's.  Up on old Monarch Pass the story is slightly different.  The pass will receive a greater than not chance of rain for the entire day and the temperature will vary by about 10 degrees.  The elevation of the big mountain is about 5,000 feet higher than we are here in Montrose County.  Some day, probably sooner than we would like to see, the snow shall return and those of us that wish to cross it to get to the other side of the Great Continental Divide shall be at its mercy.  A person must be careful and remember that no journey is worth the chance of traveling in treacherous weather.  Not to Kansas.  Not to anywhere.
     This past summer Mike and I made the journey over the mountain to Salida, Colorado to meet our friends LeRoy and Anne for lunch one Sunday.  We left early enough that we had the chance to stop off at Monarch Pass and ride the tram that takes you to the very top of the summit where you can get out and walk around a bit to enjoy the view that so often we miss as we drive along Highway 50.  It was wonderful to do so and the less than $20 that we spent to buy the tickets was well worth it.  We were able to enjoy the view and take some fun pictures along the way.  Normally, I've only seen the snowy version of this panoramic view and it was so nice to realize that there is a very green side to Monarch Pass as well.

The view at the top~6,000 feet higher than where we are here in Montrose County and nearly 10,000 feet higher than my old home in the flatlands of Kansas.  The air is a bit on a the thin side up there.

Even in mid-July snow could still be seen from the top of the highest summits.  So hard for me to imagine living in a place where somehow, somewhere you can find snow nearly year round.  I am surely such a flatlander.

     It's like standing on top of the world for this Kansas farm girl.  The wind was blowing but the sun was shining in a robin's egg blue Colorado sky.  The view was really breathtaking.

     Mike has lived here in Colorado for nearly 20 years and he is used to the altitude differences.  It will probably take me a while longer to acclimate to all of the changes.  He has climbed to the top of Mt. Sneffels and would like to try another climb of a 14'er some day in the future.  It's not on my list of 60 things to do before I turn 60.  Guarantee you.  No way.  Not now.  Not ever.   :)

     I remember my first journey out here, now nearly 2 years ago and by the way, that sure seems strange to realize.  It was in mid-January of 2013 that I drove out here all alone in the middle of winter and nearly in the middle of the night to see what life was like here.  I had never driven to any place like this before but shoot, it didn't seem like it would be all that bad as I looked at the map.  Mapquest said it was 611 miles from the front door of my house in the middle of Hutchinson to Mike's front door here in Montrose.  My initial plan was to drive it all in one fell swoop, after school was out on a Friday afternoon.  How hard could that be?  I'd driven 500 miles each day the year before to get to Maine to see my very first lighthouse ever.  No problems with that journey so why not give it a try this time?  By 11:00 p.m. that evening I had to give it up in Salida, calling Mike and telling him I was just too tired to come any further that evening.  By the time I arrived here in Montrose at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, I realized that driving 611 miles that would take me through several canyon lands and over the rugged mountains would be more like driving about 1,611 miles.  Through an obstacle course.  Backwards and with one tire nearly flat.  My greatest of awakenings happened just as the sun came up that early Saturday morning in 2013.  I was still an hour or more away from getting here and as I looked in my rear view mirror, this mammoth black image appeared taking up all the space in my rear view mirror.  For the first time I realized just what I had been driving through all alone, in the dark, and on snow covered roads.  I had found the mountains and hadn't even really known it.  I have said before and will say time and time again.....

"I am such a flatlander!"

     Autumn is here now.  The dance of the seasons continues on.  Oh there will still be a few Indian summer days around, just like back home in Kansas but for the most part it's time now to enjoy the beauty that fall brings us.  The leaves changing colors are a sight to behold here along the Rocky Mountains.  There seems to be this sense of urgency among the wildlife and nature's inhabitants as even they know it's time to get a move on to prepare for the time when winter taps upon the shoulder of autumn and says it is time to change partners.  Even people are beginning to prepare for the changes as we all begin the process of finishing up outdoor tasks in the weeks ahead, ultimately looking at the time when winter's grip will keep us indoors from time to time.  Change is inevitable in life.  The seasons are a testament to that fact.

     We are going home for Christmas this year.  I would not miss it for anything.  I'm even contemplating spending my last birthday of being in the "50's" back home in Kansas as well.  That birthday is still a month away and much can happen as far as the weather goes.  But if it all works out, I'm going back to the land of my birth to celebrate reaching 59 years of life.  There is only one way to get there from here (ok there are others but none that I would choose) and that way is to climb the big mountain.  I am respectfully not afraid of Monarch Pass.  It can be traversed in any of the seasons, winter included.  Watch the weather reports, travel with an emergency kit and cell phone fully charged, keep your head where it belongs, and check with people all along the way.  I'm sure glad that I saw it from the "top" this past summer.  All things considered, it is really a beautiful place. Covered in green.  Covered in white.

The wintry view from atop Monarch Pass last December as we headed back home to Kansas to enjoy Christmas with our family and friends back there on the other side of the Divide.