Happy Holidays to Everyone, Everywhere!

Greetings to All!

The holidays begin and everyday brings something new: the tree is filled with decorations, friends come to visit, my Moms seeing a play (this year "Mary Poppins") with Mark, Olivia, and Daric, ice on the sidewalks, my holiday haircut, snow softly falling, presents I'm not supposed to sniff, and that classic holiday event…Pat Motto's Gingerbread party for kids of all ages. 

We wish you all a wonderful holiday season, and invite you to come share the fun in Gingerbread house building. Find the fun here: http://youtu.be/DO5VvSK8kKY

Have a safe and warm holiday filled with laughter, love, friends, and family…from our home to yours, Peace on Earth and a Happy New Year.

With love,
           Lucy and Family
PS…stay tuned. My Mom said I could write a few more holidays posts of my own!

Kigali Memorial Centre

Our trip was bookended by reminders of two of the world's most infamous periods of genocide.  In Amsterdam we visited the Anne Frank Museum, and in Rwanda we spent hours in the Kigali Memorial Centre.  

September 14, 2013…going home

A different experience than we thought we'd have, but a typical trip for us with many observations, questions, some answers and a great deal left to reflect on. Starting with our first day in Amsterdam--a visit to the Anne Frank house. Outside the door of the Frank residence stand two children, a boy and a younger girl.  They might have just knocked. They might be waiting for the door to open so they could ask if their friend Anna could come out to play, to wander along the canal and search out other friends. We know something these kinder may not. Their joyful days of play and careless laughter--sometimes at the expense of a friend, are numbered. As they play, a monster is growing just across the border. He will develop his theories of "us and them" at first quietly, then in writing, and finally with maniacal screaming in ever larger public venues.  His words will swiftly take root in the psyches of his audience,  there to do their intended work of kindling distrust, suspicion, and hatred strong enough to kill. 

Hitler's words will separate Ann's friends and her family's acquaintances into "us"--Juden, or "them"--the Aryan chosen, and this from a mongrel with neither blue eyes nor blond hair. To be sure there will be those whose courage and sense of decency will cause them to stand, defend, shelter, hide, care for the "other," never enough to turn the tide of hatred, but enough to show what is possible.

For now, we capture the image of the children at the door of 263 Prinzingracht.  On this September afternoon in 2013, what we know and what they too surely know is that the Frank family is gone from this place.  Only Otto, Anne's father, survived Hitler's holocaust.  He came back to Amsterdam to learn that his entire family was gone. Eventually, he found a publisher for Anne's diary, and converted his now defunct factory/hiding place into a memorial and testimony for the ages. When will we ever learn?  The answer must still be blowin' in the wind.  

The story has been repeated the world over many, too many, times. Now, on the last day of our trip, we stand outside the Genocide Memorial in Kigali, Rwanda.  There are many gardens here honoring and commemorating Rwandan women, children, culture, division, unity, and reconciliation.  Among the gardens there is a simple, raised concrete slab.  Under the slab lies the remains of 250,000 Tutsis and Hutus alike, killed in the genocide of 1994--Rwandans all.  Another mass grave in a far corner, has a glass cover.  Gray silk banners with white crosses have been draped across the coffins and remains below. New bodies are found every day and they are brought here to lie with their fellow Rwandans.  In the gardens there are elephant statues reminding us to Zahore!  Remember.  Near the fountain of coming together there is a statue of a primate with a cellphone.  He is asking us to tell the stories we learn here in hopes that the world will remember and that we will listen to the wind and find an answer.

When our neighbors are called vermin, scourge, leeches, inyenzi--cockroaches, inferior, lower than, "those people," niggers, spics, dagos, frogs, white trash--When they look like us, speak our language; when they laugh and cry with us, share a meal, marry our daughter, how then can we turn our back as they are rounded up, ghettoized, singled out by people we don't even know?  How do some of us find the courage to give our friends food, find them shelter, lead them away from harm?  How did a group of young school girls in Rwanda find the courage to defy the genocidaires who burst into their school?  "OK, Hutu to this side, Tutsi cockroaches over there."  No one moved. "Now! Or you will all die." No one moved.  The entire class died together. 

We learned of the Hutu house worker in a Tutsi home who stood helping her employer when the men with pangas came through the kitchen door, "Stand aside. Let us have the Tutsi inyenzi."  "No, I will not."  The women died together.  And the men and women of the world's undergrounds in Bosnia-Herzegovina, the United States, Britain, China, Vietnam, Cambodia--what of them all--named or unknown--who put their lives in jeopardy for others while their neighbors chanted: "Heil," "Nigger," "Faggot," "Inyenzi," and the gray ashes from the worl'd's incinerators drifted slowly down upon their shoulders like so much dandruff?  Sociologists can name the ways in which genocide is perpetrated.  They can describe those who resist, and those who comply, but simply--neighbor to neighbor, in my family, among my friends, I want to know the answer.  Would I have the courage to give my life.  I cannot be sure.  The answer is still blowin' in the wind.  Hear the voices...

"If you knew me, and if you really knew yourself, you would not have killed me."  Felicien Ntagengwa

Pictures for this blog entry:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/

Mzungu in the Mist

Bwindi Impenetrable National Park in Uganda and the Virunga Massif, a volcanic range that straddles Uganda, Rwanda, and the Democratic Republic of Congo is home to the world’s two populations of mountain gorillas.   Most are found on the slopes of three of the dormant volcanoes: Karisimbi, Mikeno, and Visoke.  The vegetation is very dense at the bottom of the mountains, becoming more sparse at higher elevations.  The forests where the mountain gorillas live are often cloudy, misty and cold.  It is this climatic condition that gave Diane Fossey the name for her book on mountain gorillas:  Gorillas in the Mist.  It has also become a play on words that vendors screen on the backs of souvenir t shirts:  Mzungu in the Mist.  When we asked what this meant, one fellow hesitantly told us, “It means white people in the mist.”

The mountain gorilla is primarily a gentle, non aggressive herbivore.   The majority of its diet consists of leaves, shoots and stems.  Adult males eat 65 -75 pounds of vegetation a day.  Females consume  30 - 40 pounds.  This means that a good deal of each gorilla day is spent in moving from place to place, foraging for food.  Finding a group is no easy task, which is why former poachers are now employed as gorilla trackers.  A salaried tracker can enough to feed and care for his own families and reduces, but does not eliminate, threats to gorillas from poachers.  It is these trackers who stay with a particular group all day long.  At sunset, the trackers put a GPS device on the ground where they leave the gorillas for the night, and then before sunrise, they begin tracking the group from their last known location.  This system makes it possible for national park guides and trackers to bring visitors to the gorillas as they rest from their early morning foraging before moving off in an hour or two to resume eating.   

We arrived at Parc des Volcans, Rwanda and were anxiously awaiting our gorilla group assignment.On the first day, we were assigned Amahoro Group.  They live on the forested slopes between Visoke Volcano and Sabinyo.  We met with our park guide Edward, who told us a bit about Amahoro.  He explained how we should behave with the gorillas (no talking, do not try to touch them, if you are touched or grabbed be very still and do not react) and said would need to hike about two to two and a half hours to reach them.  We grabbed our packs, got in our vehicle, and drove about 30 minutes to the trail head.  

As of late 2008, there were 14 habituated family groups of gorillas in the park.  Only 7 of these are available for tracking by the public.  A $750.00 permit buys the trekker one hour with the gorillas.  The group will be visited only one time during the day.

Indeed treks to reach our assigned groups were as strenuous as advertised.   From a trail head at the end of a village, we hiked up through terraced fields of wheat, barley, squash and pyrethrum until we reached the park boundary.  There, we were met by two trackers assigned to take us to the gorillas.  In our trip literature we understood we would be allowed no closer than 7 m (22 feet) to the gorillas.  Pam brought binoculars on our first hike, and I was confident in the zoom on our video camera.  Reaching the Amahoro group required us to hike first up one mountain, then through a bamboo forest, down the other side of the mountain through jungle filled with stinging nettles.  From a valley we hiked up another mountain and half way down to where the group was resting. We were instructed to leave our packs with our porters (men from the local village we hired to carry our packs) and follow Edward our guide.  

We walked into a junglish clearing and were immediately face to face with our gorillas.  Five feet away from one of the young males, we watched in awe as he sat calmly stripping and eating wild celery.  We were stunned.  I mean stunned like hardly breathing; like tearing up; like speechless, shaking.  The gorillas are beautiful.  They are magnificent and majestic.  The young ones--3 to 6 years old act just like little kids.  They spend much of their time chasing one another, playing, and climbing on trees and adults.  The dominant silverback (head of the group) is generally calm and spends most of his time sleeping or eating.  He can be a fierce defender of his family, but never fights just to defend territory.  The females with babies are loving, gentle, and devoted mothers.  Forget the binoculars! For the next hour we were maneuvered into viewing positions as close as 7-10 feet from various individuals. 

Amahoro group has 18 members:  3 silverbacks (only 1 is dominant, and 1, Kajoliti is one-handed due to being caught in a poacher’s snare), 2 blackbacks (males who haven’t reached sexual maturity), 5 adult females, 2 subadult males, 2 juveniles and 5 babies.  Our alloted hour was so otherworldly that I felt suspended in time.  We stood and moved about on a floor three or four feet deep in springy jungle vines and branches.  Strangely, I never felt unstable.  At one point as we intently watched a group of juveniles, one of the trackers called, “Watch out! Move back” and the silverback pushed through the group brushing against several of us.  When time was up the trackers called to us and we filed reverently back to our waiting porters.  

Reality set in as we trudged back up the steep trail and slowly worked our way toward the terraced fields and finally, our vehicle.  I had to admit to Pam that night that I was sore and tired.  She said, “I’m sure we will have an easier go tomorrow.  Our hike will have to be shorter because of our drive to Kigali.”  But a shorter hike was not in the cards.  In the morning we were assigned Susa group.  They tend to inhabit altitudes of 9,000-10,000 feet on the middle-level slopes of the largest volcano--Karisimbi (14,787').  This group is considered the most strenuous to track. 

Susa is the largest of the tourist groups with 36 members at the time of our visit.   It is the only group to claim two sets of twins.  Twins are normally too stressful for a mother to manage and generally one of the pair is abandoned.  The drive to the trail head that second day took a full hour.  The trek to get to the gorillas was three hours one way, but we had “only” to go up one mountain and half down another rather than the up and down, up and down of the day before.  There were few stinging nettles this time which was a relief.  Once again we left our packs with the porters and followed the trackers into an area dense with vines and trees.  We stopped, I looked down and discovered we were right in front of a mother and her tiny, ten week old baby.  Such affection and tenderness was expressed between the two, our hearts were in our throats.  Although big silverbacks seem to be a large draw for most trekkers, Pam and I were mesmerized by the mother and her baby.  We could have stayed with her for hours.  Two juveniles directly above us were playing “king of the hill.”  They wrestled and mouthed one another, rolling, and pushing, and chasing.  Finally, one guy gave the other a large shove which sent the loser somersaulting down a hill.  The winner watched, stood tall, and slapped his chest three or four times with resounding smacks.  When our hour was up and we were filing past a young gorilla, he suddenly picked up a bunch of leaves, waved them around, and put them on his head like feathers... almost as if he was showing us how clever and cute he was.  Indeed.

Again the trek back to our vehicle was long and arduous.  By afternoon, the jungle trails seem to get more slippery and rocky.  This is probably more a function of how tired  we were than of an actual change in trail conditions.  In three hours we were back at the trailhead.  We thanked and paid our porters, said good-bye to our guide, and rumbled off for the long drive to Kigali. 

In a few hours it began to rain which made the mountain road more slick and rutted than ever.  I wondered how long each vehicle could go before breaking down.  I got my answer as our vehicle came to a grinding halt about 40 k from Kigali.  After removing a front tire and probing the front transmission, it was decided that the vehicle was inoperable and a tow truck was summoned from Kigali.  We arrived in the city about 8 o'clock--tired and hungry.  We got checked in and moved to our rooms.  Linda and Paul arranged for a table for our dinner.  We had wine, toasted, ate, and then crawled off to bed.  The next day all of us were scheduled for afternoon departures for the USA (or in Kathy’s case for Kenya).  In the morning we had  a scheduled visit to the Kigali Memorial Centre and Genocide Museum.

You will find gorilla pictures here:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/

In Uganda

Happy Thanksgiving!

We have so much to be thankful for, not the least of which are our friends and patient followers of this blog.

After promising to blog along as we traveled through Uganda and Rwanda, I found that was impossible on several levels.  Most of you know the story of what happened in our travels to impact my writing, and you know the saga of our return to Colorado after an historic 500 year flood devastated our Little Valley, our town, and the surrounding canyons and towns.  The next few blogs are an attempt to fulfill my promise of an account of our travels.  Rather than the usual interest most travelers generate from family and friends, what we experienced were questions:  WHERE are you going?  Why there?  Do you have to go now?  Are you afraid?  To which we answered:  Uganda and Rwanda.  Mostly to see Mountain Gorillas.  We're not getting any younger and the hiking is strenuous. No, we are not afraid.  We've waited for three years and this seems like an OK time to go.  So we went.

Let me begin by comparing this trip with our other two trips to Africa (South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe the first trip; Zambia on the second trip).  Uganda and Rwanda are relatively new to wild life tourism.  The infrastructure is not as developed or sophisticated as we experienced on our other two trips.  Camps are not as luxurious; animals are not as habituated to human visitors (after a few minutes of nervous gawking, they often run out onto the savanna…gorillas would be an exception), nor are they as plentiful; transportation from camp to camp is by safari vehicle, not by bush planes or helicopters.  However, this last fact gave us an intimate view of village and town life as we traveled from camp to camp with drives often lasting 4-5 hours.  From the start we had two guide/drivers--Sula (head guide) and Deo.  We got to know both men fairly well and learned that their expertise was more as drivers than as safari guides.  Our best guides were those native to the national parks and forests.  The guides and trackers in Parc des Volcans, Rwanda (our gorilla guides) were some of the best we've ever experienced.

There are three sets of pictures to accompany the next three blogs:  In Uganda, which contains images from our experiences outside of gorilla trekking, Mzungu in the Mist--images of gorillas and trekking to find them, and Kigali Memorial Centre…a look at the memorial to the 1994 genocide in Rwanda.  Here, I will start with "In Uganda."

That first night in Entebbe, I set the alarm on my iPhone to leave us plenty of time to show up for breakfast and our 8 o'clock a.m. meeting.  Unfortunately Amsterdam is one hour later than Entebbe, and my phone didn't change times until noon.  Needless to say, we were late for our meeting.  That said (not a great way to begin), after leaving Entebbe we traveled cross country for several hours, stopping on the way for a picnic lunch where we got to know fellow travelers and spend some time trading backgrounds.  We really enjoyed our group.  This was not the first African trip for any of us.  In all we were:  Ed and Ceci from Minnesota, Cindy and Tom from Denver, Paul and Linda--Atlanta, Holly--Connecticut, Laura, Washington, D.C., and Kathy from Barrington, IL.  One could not have asked for easier more congenial people to be with.  

Our first destination was Kibale Forest National Park.  We stayed at Primate Lodge, and our two days here were spent viewing chimpanzees and other forest primates.  Our first night we did a night walk looking for elusive bushbabies.  We found 11 and our guide said that was the most he'd found in one walk.  It's weird to be walking in the jungle at night following a flashlight beam, surrounded by jungle sounds (hoots, hollers, grunts, and frogs croaking).  Mostly what we saw of the bush babies were their huge eyes glowing back at us in the beam of a flashlight.  I was able to shoot some video, but none of our digital cameras could capture pictures.  The next morning we walked for about 4-5 hours in Kibale Forest with a guide.  In the morning, chimpanzees screech and scream to one another (an unnerving racket) as a way of bringing troop members together after sleeping.  We did indeed see chimpanzees, but except for one large male, they stayed in the tree tops.  In addition to the chimpanzees, we saw many colobus monkeys, both black and red, baboons, and gray cheeked mangabeys.  

As we walked out of the jungle into swampland, we encountered two young boys.  Alfred was a very serious businessman about 10 years of age.  Taking clay from the swamp banks, he sculpted chimpanzee figures.  These he offered for sale to hikers.  We, of course, bought one of these and because it was still damp, carried it very carefully from camp to camp until it dried.  The other boy was just full of smiles.  As Alfred carefully explained about his wares, smiley boy waved a small catfish he had just caught barehanded from the swamp.  We did not buy the fish!  From Primate Lodge we drove to our next camp in Queen Elizabeth National Park--Jacana Lodge.

On the way we were silent witnesses to life in the villages, towns, and farms we passed.  People going about their daily lives (of course)--carrying water and firewood, going to the store, tending fields and cattle, cooking, washing clothes, visiting, and coming and going from all manner of businesses. Children were going to and from school, playing together, doing family chores, or being carried on their mother's backs.  This part of life was something we had never experienced and we found it everlastingly interesting.  

Once we crossed into Queen Elizabeth National Park we had our first game drive, after which we arrived at Jacana Lodge.  This lodge was set on the edge of Uganda's largest crater lake--Lake Nyamusingire.  Our living quarters were individual chalets overlooking the lake.  That first night Pam and I were serenaded by a hippo mom and her baby who stayed half submerged just off our living room window.  Under the circumstances, I found their songs comforting.  The travel description of our time in QE National Park said:  

      With 2,000 square miles of deep jungle, volcanoes, crater lakes, and open savannas, this diverse 
       landscape is home to a similarly broad array of wildlife, including nearly 100 mammal species and 
       606 species of birds spotted (so far).  We will delve into the varied landscape and waterways of the 
       park in search of elephants, leopards, waterbucks, topis, and horned kobs, to name a few of the 
       regularly sighted species. In addition to game drives, we’ll take an exciting launch trip on the Kazinga  
       Channel that connects Lake Edward with smaller Lake George.

Part of the problem with the game drives is that we left our lodgings around 9 or 9:30 and stayed out until 3, 4, or 5 in the afternoon.  Neither of our guides were the best informants about animals and animal behavior.  The biggest issue however, is that animals are normally active from about 6 or 7 am until 10:30 or 11:00.  They sleep or find shade from noon until about 4 when the sun begins to cool down.  At that time, they come out again to prowl about or graze.  We were driving around during the heat of the day and consequently did not see all that many animals.  We were able to spot several species of birds, a few elephants, waterbucks, topis, and kobs.  The latter three being the ubiquitous antelopes of Uganda.

Arriving at Jacana Lodge after a disappointing afternoon of game viewing, we were assigned to our chalets and had to hurry to shower to get to dinner on time.  The shower felt fine after a day in the heat, but as I stepped out onto a shellacked shower board my foot whipped out from under me and I landed on my butt and right hand with a splat.  As a result, I broke my wrist.  Pam and I wrapped it in an ace bandage and we went to dinner and then to bed.  In the morning I asked Holly, an EMT in "real life," and Cindy, a former occupational therapist, to look at my wrist.  "Almost surely broken," they said, "but not displaced."  So we raided the first aid kit in our vehicle.  We found a masonite board to use as a splint, another ace bandage, and a triangular bandage made from some gossamer material with which Holly created a sling.  She picked up a napkin off the breakfast table to pad the splint, wrapped me, and I was good to go.  One couldn't have asked for better assistance than I got!

The broken wrist posed only this problem:  I am the family photographer and Pam generally doesn't use my digital camera, but she stepped in like a trooper, learned quickly, and got some great shots of the rest of our travels.  The video camera was easier for me to operate, so that was my sole job.

Our launch trip on the Kazinga Channel was truly spectacular.  The river guide was outstanding and we got to see a huge variety of birds, hippos (in and out of the water), elephants, crocs, cape buffalo, and assorted antelope.  When we finished our trip, all of us were complimenting the guide and saying how much we had enjoyed our time with him.  He smiled and said, "Tomorrow, on this water I shall guide the president of our country…Yoweri Museveni."  We knew the president was in the area because we had been forced to pull to the side of the road on our way down to Kazinga Channel while a long line of troop carriers, anti-aircraft guns, soldiers in trucks and jeeps, and long black limos drove past raising clouds of dust.  "Our president is traveling to see his people," explained our driver, Deo.

From Jacana we traveled to the far end of QE Park to our favorite lodge:  Ishasha.  Built on the curve of a river, our suite of airy rooms looked out into the rising sun.  Ishasha is famous for its tree climbing lions.  Lions are not natural tree climbers, but these felines seek out fig and acacia trees in the heat of the day.  They climb out onto stout, bare limbs and drape and wedge themselves in for an afternoon nap.  "I have seen such lions," said Deo, "sleeping like this.  One day, a large male who was sound asleep,  fell right off onto the ground.  He was surprised."  On one of our lengthy (in the heat of the day) game drives, we stopped at the home of some local people and were treated to a traditional meal.  The eldest son first explained about a greeting custom that involved chewing coffee beans.  After the greeting ceremony, the boy served our food (cooked in a distant kitchen by his mother and sisters) and explained the significance of each dish.  It was a great experience after which we struck out again into the heat of the day looking for game.  

Our afternoon was cooled by a quick thunder shower followed by a beautiful rainbow stretching across the horizon.  The rainbow must have been a good omen because we found lions in a tree shortly thereafter. One of the things we appreciated as we went from place to place was that in QE Park, twenty percent of our entrance fees helped support the local communities surrounding the park, including funding schools and medical clinics.  This would be true also of the fee we paid for two days of gorilla trekking.  One can see the differences in villages close to these two parks.  Water pumps and holding towers are obvious.  Children are in school uniforms, school buildings and homes are generally of better quality than elsewhere, and most roads are paved with stones (this is NOT, as we were to experience, necessarily a good thing for vehicles).

From Ishasha we drove through the region known as “the Switzerland of East Africa” for its awe-inspiring mountains. Our vehicles climbed the mountains on rough dirt roads made slick and boggy by rain.  We passed through Kanaba Gap, one of East Africa’s most scenic areas, before arriving in Kisoro, surrounded by volcanoes—Sabinyo (11,923'), Mgahinga (11,397'), and Muhabura (13,540'). Our border crossing into Rwanda was memorable for several reasons.  First, it was raining sheets and the government building was so small supplicants had to stand outside.  Next, presenting papers and having our passports stamped took at least an hour because computers were down.  The government officials were…well, government officials.  Last, as I came finally to the window to speak to the heretofore crabby and cantankerous official he looked out at me with great concern.  "Oh.  You are broken.  Did you do that in my country?"  "Yes," I replied.  "Oh.  I am so sorry."  He stamped my passport and returned it with a smile.  


From the border crossing we continued through volcanic uplands to Kinigi, headquarters of Parc National des Volcans (Volcanoes National Park). There we moved into the simple comforts of Gorilla Mountain View Lodge, our base for gorilla trekking in the Parc National des Volcans.  That evening we enjoyed red wine with our feet propped on the lip of a warm fire.  Tomorrow we would see the gorillas.

Here is a link to pictures of our time in Uganda:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/ 

When you land on the Flickr page, you will see the first three sets which correspond to the trip blogs:  In Uganda, Mzungu in the Mist, and Kigali memorial Centre.  

Long Day of Travel

This will be very short as we've been at an airport and in a plane since 8:00 this a.m. and it's now 1:00 a.m. Our connections have been great...Pam making all the reservations and pick up/delivery, airport has gone like clock work so far. We are in the Victoria Hotel in Entebbe...quite lovely. Our group is scheduled to gather at 9:00 tomorrow morning for a briefing and then we'll get in our safari vehicles and be off for Kibale Forest National Park. We've met one of our guides at the airport and he seems like a really nice guy. We'll see what the morning brings. Here is our itinerary for tomorrow:
We board our Land Rovers in the morning and drive into the lush green countryside of Uganda, a country described by Winston Churchill as “the Pearl of Africa.” We pass through landscapes where African farmsteads
crammed with bananas and tropical trees mingle with wetlands and patches of forest or bush, and give way to tea plantations as we gain elevation. After a picnic lunch en route, we enter Kibale Forest National Park, where we
may catch our first glimpse of chimps, baboons, or other primates. While in Kibale, we’ll stay at Primate Lodge, a luxury tented camp consisting of eight deluxe safari tents. They are raised on wooden platforms and feature
verandas, comfortable beds, and en-suite bathrooms. We gather for meals in the open-air restaurant and can relax in the cozy bar, lounge, or around the fireplace. (6-7 hours driving).

So that's what we know for now. It may be some time again before we have internet connections, so if you don't hear from us for awhile, don't worry. I will continue to blog each day (I hope), and when we can we'll post what we've done. Wishing you all well. We are off for our adventure!

Location:Entebbe, Uganda

In Amsterdam

Leaving on a trip is not so much about going as it is about escaping. Escaping from: what have I forgotten; did I leave all of the things the dog needs; have I left good information for Marla who is taking care of our home; did I remember to tell Lee and Mare about...can I do just one more errand? We escaped to the airport leaving everything to capable hands. Threatened by two storms, one in Denver and one in Minneapolis, our pilots managed to get the planes up in the air before we were delayed. In Minneapolis this meant rounding up passengers and getting them onboard 15 minutes early. Amazing!

We have been under cloudy skies since arriving in Amsterdam, but the city and the people are so fascinating we haven't minded at all. We are staying in the small Hotel Hoksbergen. Pam asked for a room overlooking the canal and we got that...only it takes four flights of stairs that would put lighthouse stairs to shame. Thankfully, the manager brought our duffels up to the room.
We quickly organized our gear and went out walking. We had some time before our tickets to the Anne Frank House, so we stopped in a cafe and had a cappucccino, then took an hour long canal tour/cruise. Amsterdam has 1,000 bridges and 100 canals. The cruise took us out to the North Sea, and through many of the city's neighborhoods.

Then it was time to return to the Anne Frank house. The tour through the empty rooms of Anne's father's factory where the family hid for two years was haunting. The house remains without furnishings because they were removed by the Nazis when the family was taken. Anne's father Otto, the only surviving member of the family, decided the rooms should remain bare. However there are pictures on the walls, several videos explaining the times, and a few scale models of the rooms as they were. Especially poignant were actual pages from Anne's diary that she had rewritten for eventual publication. The family was betrayed by someone unknown and subsequently shipped to concentration camps: Otto and his wife to Auschwitz, Anne and her sister to Bergen-Belsen, and the four others in hiding with the Franks to Auschwitz, Theresienstadt, and Neuengamme. It is believed that Anne and her sister died of typhus just one month short of liberation. When we looked at family pictures, we think of the relative safety of our own families and reflect on how blessed we are, though Anne's words written in 1944 bring us sharply to the world as we know it know. "One day this terrible war will be over. The time will come when we'll be people again and not just Jews!" Our granddaughter Olivia, now 11 years old, has never lived in a United States that was not at war.

We came out of the Frank house to see a group dancing and singing on a triangle celebrating gay people. We visited a nearby kiosk selling all kinds of knick-nacks with GLBT themes. From there we went to dinner at a restaurant Pam had selected. We were told to come back at 6:00 and, "Do you want a reservation? OK, we have one table left." The food was delicious, the service excellent, and as we were leaving, the young woman who serves as maitre d' was saying to a couple who just entered, "Dinner? You have a reservation? No. Undoable. All tables are reservated." We went home and fell into bed. I fell asleep downloading pictures from our day...ZZZzzzz

This morning (Oh, and Happy Labor Day!) we slept in a bit, had breakfast and headed off walking for the Rijksmuseum. After three years of renovation, Amsterdam's premier art museum is truly beautiful and a great place to visit. The new spaces are a perfect setting to display some of the world's greatest artists. Our visit included only The Great Hall, and we were looking for 2.5 hours. We had lunch in the dining room, and then left for the van Gogh (van Gokh to the Dutch) museum. There we had tickets to an exhibit called, "The Artist at Work," which featured a chronological exhibit, start to finish, of van Gogh the artist.

Some observations: EVERYone rides a bike, there are thousands on the streets; all streets and sidewalks are cobbled with brick; street names along canals end with Gracht, streets without canals end with Straat; everyone rides a bike (they DO!) and talk on cell phones, drink coffee, and eat while riding; the Dutch people (MY people) are very tall; the language sounds like German but is softer; most people speak excellent English; all the buildings lean toward the street (canal homes are very narrow, but deep)--they also all have a large center window or door near the roof and over that hangs a block and tackle arrangement because the front doors and windows are too narrow to get furniture through...it all is lifted off the street to the upper story door and moved about the house from there. The lean keeps furniture from scraping against the exterior and also protects a bit from the rain. Although two foot high bars were added to the front of all parking spaces (head-in parking) along canals, an average of one car per week still rolls into a canal.

Now we are at rest for a few more minutes before going off to dinner, reorganizing our duffels, and having one more sleep in our beds before we are off for our 10 hour flight to Entebbe and the safari/primate viewing/gorilla visiting part of our trip. We hope you have had a good day, and a big shout-out to Marla (brave woman) herding our dog and hers alone in the mountains.

The pictures: Pam in front of our hotel, the STAIRS (four flights of these!), a Go Car plugged and waiting, entering the Anne Frank museum, cala lillies at the flower market, leaning houses, Pam in the "dam" of I Amsterdam sculpture, the Rijks museum, and van Gogh--an early self portrait.

Location:Amsterdam, Netherlands

On Long's Peak

This is the eve of our departure for Amsterdam, Uganda, and Rwanda.  I wanted to put up one more blog about the events on Long's Peak about which I wrote last time.  The rescue of the fallen climber was a herculean task and many of you have asked why? how? what does the area look like?

First of all I want to give a huge shout-out to Tommy Caldwell and his climbing partner Jonathan Siegrist who stopped a near historic climb they were working on (a never before done route on Long's) to rush to the aid of the fallen climber.  Down climbing to the injured man, Tommy quickly disapprised other climbers declaring "He's OK."  Tommy told them, "No, the guy is NOT OK.  He's in shock and he's badly hurt."  Tommy then rappelled lower, put in two more ropes so the climber could eventually be lowered, descended to Chasm Lake, and ran the mile back to Chasm meadow and the shelter cabin.  There he met a climbing ranger and helped him bring spine board, stabilizing bag, more rope and medical supplies back up to the injured climber.

Here is a description of the rescue written in a climbing blog:

8/19/13 - A climber was hit by rockfall while approaching the Diamond on Longs Peak in Colorado and suffered severe injuries in the resulting 50- to 60-foot fall. The 34-year-old man was working his way up the North Chimney approach...on a busy Friday morning, and the rockfall reportedly hit him while he was leading. Fortunately, he was roped up (simul-climbing [two climbers on the same rope]) and thus did not fall all the way to the base of the east face of Longs Peak.  (The climber) suffered a skull fracture, fractured spine, punctured lungs, and other injuries, but was evacuated with the help of Rocky Mountain National Park rangers and fellow climbers, and over the weekend he had successful surgery to treat his injuries.  (http://www.climbing.com/news/serious-accident-on-longs-peak/)

For those of you who wondered what all of this looked like, here are some pictures:

Far building is shelter cabin.  This is Chasm meadow where it is possible to land a helicopter.

 The red oblong shows the area where the climber was ascending when he fell.

 The star indicates a place called Chasm View.  It sits at about 13,000+ feet.  The descending arrow and the ascending arrow (from bottom) indicate how ranger rescuers came from various directions to get to the fallen climber.  The rangers coming from the star position had been working to retrieve the body of a hiker who fell and died on the west side of the mountain the previous day. 

The long red line indicates the terrain rescuers had to traverse to get the injured person off the wall, down near Chasm Lake, across boulders and scree, over more boulders and finally a tricky, steep descent into Chasm meadow below.  There were 20 climbing ranger/medics working on this rescue.

The following week, Tommy and another partner were back up on the diamond working on their project...a free climb of the Dunn-Westbay route.  They were climbing the route in a way it had never been done.  No mechanical aids were used. Only their own intellect and physical skill pushed them up the wall.  The route had to be done all in a piece.  If they made a mistake, they had to rappell back to their starting point and begin again.  On Wednesday, Tommy successfully completed his goal by doing a free climb of the Dunn-Westbay route.  Here is a brief account of the accomplishment:

8/22/13 - Tommy Caldwell and Joe Mills have redpointed the first 5.14* route up the Diamond on Longs Peak, the premier granite wall in Colorado's high mountains. The two free-climbed the full Dunn-Westbay aid line in four rope-stretching pitches, with the 80-meter second pitch checking in at 5.14a.  The dead-vertical Diamond wall begins at about 13,200 feet and tops out at over 14,000 feet.

In 2011, Josh Wharton free-climbed the Dunn-Westbay at 5.13b with substantial variations. But Caldwell and Mills both aimed to straighten out the line and free-climb the full, original Dunn-Westbay, a 5.10 A3+ route established in 1972 by Jimmy Dunn and Billy Westbay. Caldwell spent four days on the route last summer, but found it too wet to make much progress.  (On one of these days Lee, Pam, and I watched Tommy rappell down and start over and over.  We were watching through binoculars from Chasm Lake).

This year Caldwell returned to the route and spent several days working on it with Jonathan Siegrist. Last week, they halted their efforts to assist in the rescue of a severely injured climber below the face. After one more attempt, Siegrist had to give up on the route because of other commitments, and Caldwell teamed up with Joe Mills, who had also been working on the direct line.  On August 21, Caldwell led all four pitches successfully, and Mills followed all of the pitches free.  "I had the vision of trying to do it ledge to ledge [with no hanging belays], and that meant doing an 80-meter pitch, which made it fully 5.14," Caldwell said. "It was extraordinary. I never expected to find anything like that on the Diamond."

The four pitches went at 5.10+, 5.14a (80 meters), 5.13a (about 68 meters), and 5.12b.  The two climbed directly up the Green Pillar on the first pitch, where Wharton had traversed in from the Casual Route. And where Wharton headed left into another crack system on the second pitch, Caldwell and Mills climbed straight up. Caldwell said about half of the route differed from the free line that Wharton followed.  Caldwell said the route "protects perfectly—it's G-rated. So rad." The original aid crux was unprotected, but it was "5.8 free climbing and you just free solo it," he added.  Caldwell also pioneered the first 5.13 on the Diamond, The Honeymoon is Over, in 2001.

Date of ascent: August 21, 2013

*Class 5: Where rock climbing begins in earnest. Climbing involves the use of a rope, belaying, and protection (natural or artificial) to protect the leader from a long fall. Fifth class is further defined by a decimal and letter system – in increasing hardship and difficulty. The ratings from 5.10-5.15 are subdivided in a, b, c and d levels to more precisely define the difficulty (for example: 5.10a or 5.11d)

We don't pretend to know exactly what is being said here.  Suffice it to say it was a magnificent climb.  Tommy is definitely one of our heroes.

Today Friday, Pam, Lee, and I went to our usual work as volunteers at Bear Lake.  Sadly, while we were talking with our lead ranger, we learned that the climber Tommy helped to rescue two weeks ago, died of complications from the injuries he suffered in his fall.

And so it goes from the mountains.  If you would like to see more pictures from our recent hike up to Chasm Lake, check them out here:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/9629733353/

We wish you a happy labor day.  Tomorrow we are off to Amsterdam.  We'll be posting from wherever we have internet connections.  Kwaheri  (Good-bye in Swahili).

Catching Up (again)

Feeling every bit of my 68.5 years, I'm going to attempt to catch up since my last post. To say the past 3+ weeks have been jam-packed, mostly fun filled, and laced with all we love and honor about living in the mountains doesn't even begin to tell the story.

The week after our Mt. Audubon hike, Pam and I hiked on the west side of the Park. Our destination was a place called the Little Yellowstone. After a five mile walk and climb, we really found not much that looked anything like Yellowstone at all. Thinking that a previous hard rain and landslide had eroded whatever the view had been, we shrugged our shoulders and turned back. About .2 of a mile down the trail we came to a sign that said, "Lulu City .8." Knowing it wouldn't be much out of our way we took the detour. Lulu City was a mining town of about 200. Now it is only a washed out spot in the Colorado River. But in one of the marshes nearby, we spotted a moose. She was "grazing" her way across the bottom of the marsh. Slowly and carefully, we showed ourselves. When she didn't seem to mind, we walked toward the edge of the marsh and sat down. For 40 magical minutes we sat with "Lulu." She was beautiful. We had never seen a moose so up-close-and-personal. The only sound was the wind in the grasses and Lulu slurping, bubbling, and dripping as she came up with one mouthful after another of juicy marsh plants. She was so close that we could see the water course off her eyebrows and eyelashes. What a gift we were given this day.

We had two weeks of working on the Tundra where the weather and clouds closed in. Visibility by 3 in the afternoon was about 3 feet as we were no longer subject to the clouds, but in them...along with rain, sleet, lightning, hail, and a bit of snow. The next week however, we were treated to a spectacle that few ever get to see. As we drove the first round of our patrol, we came upon 13 Big Horn rams grazing by the side of the road. Although we were kept busy for the next 4.5 hours directing traffic by this "Sheep Jam," we were also able to observe and photograph these animals up-close-and-personal. Most visitors were happy just to slow down and take a picture. Others went to the nearest pullout and walked back to spend some time. We had a lot of grand conversations. The next day we discovered that Betty Brockelman's sister Joyce and her partner, Mark, were two of our sheep jammers. We had a great dinner with them and a laugh about our encounter. It is unusual to see one or two sheep on a trip through the Park, so this again was truly a gift day.

The highlight of our summer was the visit of the Liebings: Mark, Olivia, and Daric. They were here for 8 days. Here was our schedule: Day 1--arrive, water fights, drive in the Park. Day 2--Hike to the top of Kruger Rock overlooking Little Valley. Lucy got to go too, but BB and Lee had to work at Bear Lake. Day 3--a visit from the Gilchrist family. John is now chair of the Kinetic Wellness Department at NT. They came for an afternoon of play, Jeeping, dinner at Lee and Mare's, and a general great time. We loved catching up with John and Bridgette and meeting Johnny, Joey, Heather and Hannah. A big shout-out to y'all!! Olivia's comment as they drove off, "I can't wait to see all of them again." Day 4--a trip with Lee and Mare to the Animal Rescue Park near Denver. This is a huge park with large carnivores that have been rescued because of terrible or inappropriate treatment by humans. They can never be returned to the wild, but have a pretty good life here. There are lions, tigers, wolves, bears, foxes, mountain lions and more. Rescued from small cages in someone's basement, circuses, lives in a 4X4 section of a horse trailer, most come with injuries that have either been healed or treated at the park. We returned to Estes Park for a banana split making party at Kristi 'n Lyn's. Next was a hike to the top of Deer Mountain with Auntie Lee. The summit is a near 360 view of the Estes area, and once again Olivia and Daric proved to be superb hikers. Day 6 we packed into the car at 4:30 a.m. and drove to Buena Vista for rafting on the Colorado River. Neither Olivia nor Daric was sure that this was something they might like. Rafting sounded a bit scary, but we showed some pictures, Kristi told a story of rafting with her brother, and the lure of possible water fights with other boats convinced our kids. With our great teacher-guide Stan, Olivia and Daric soon learned to love rafting. They became great paddlers and by the end of the trip were shouting, "This has to be a tradition. Wait until next year!" In addition to getting thoroughly doused going through rapids, both Olivia and Daric jumped off a 20 foot cliff into the river. Way to go!! For our last full day of activity, we went on our traditional horseback ride. Olivia and Daric are really good horsepeople. Mark and Lee are good too. Unfortunately, Gma Pam and I ended up with blistered keesters. Oh my! Then it was time to go to the airport. Before leaving, Olivia asked for one last Jeep trip up the dirt road behind us. Both Daric and Olivia got to drive through a stream and we left for the airport full of the mountains.

During the recent Perseid meteor showers, I was trying to learn some night photography. Although I have only one meteor picture to show for my time spent under the stars three nights running, I did learn a lot. Maybe next year I will be better able to capture the meteors as they streak across our sky.

And yesterday...Pam and Lee and I worked our regular shift at Bear Lake. As we strapped on our radios, we began hearing immediately that there was a body recovery going on up on Long's Peak. The day before a 24 year old hiker/climber left his girlfriend at the keyhole and began the last two miles of the summit route on Long's. When he got to a part called the Narrows (maybe one foot wide trail) the route was icy. He slipped and fell 120 feet. Despite the efforts of a nearby Park volunteer who was also on the mountain, the young man died. The wind that evening was too great to allow rescuers and a helicopter to bring him down, so they began again in the morning. Before the recovery could be effected, word came down that a technical climber on the face of Long's had fallen 50 feet. The fall was severe enough to cause multiple injuries and to break the man's helmet. All resources were then directed to the other side of Long's to effect a rescue. Listening on the radio to the resources, personnel, and effort it takes to bring someone down alive from a bad fall is just amazing. Climbers, trail managers, climbing rangers who are also EMT's. By 11:30 a.m. the first climbing ranger had reached the accident victim and his two climbing partners. During the rescue we learned that Lee's great-nephew Tommy Caldwell was also climbing that day and he came over to the accident to give his assistance to a successful rescue. We assume that all arrived down off the wall and into a shelter about 5:30 or 6:00 in the evening. We have had no further news as of the writing of this blog.

Now our thoughts and efforts turn toward readying ourselves for our upcoming trip to Uganda and Rwanda with a short visit to Amsterdam on the way. We have wanted to see mountain gorillas for a long time, and on this trip we hope to do that, as well as seeing a part of Africa we haven't visited before. We hope that all of you are well and that you've had a good summer.
And so it goes in the mountains...You can see Catching Up pictures here:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/9531338029/in/photostream/

We love to hear from you...so keep those emails coming!

Location:Estes Park

Mt. Audubon and the Monsoons

As Tundra Guardians (great title, huh?) we begin every other Sunday by packing up, driving to Rocky, loading our TG vehicle, calling ourselves into service, and rolling off toward the tundra above 11,000 feet.  Last Sunday was no exception.  The day was beautiful with thundershowers expected in the afternoon.  The beautiful lasted for the first hour of our patrol.  Soon the clouds closed in and rain started.  We stayed "up top" (11,500 - 12,300 feet) until 3:00 when the visibility lowered to about 20 feet.  At that point we moved down to a spot at about 10,800 feet to advise visitors that conditions further up were worse.  As we couldn't see the end of the parking area, that was enough to discourage most from going on.  Good decision.  We called out of service about an hour before our shift normally ends at 5:00 p.m.  We returned home (8,200 feet) to Windwalker and a calm evening with only a little rain.

On Monday afternoon, Lee and Mare returned from Minnesota and the last of the Katy and Philipp wedding celebrations.  Don and Elvon (with help from family) put on a party for 30 on Friday evening and a party for 65 or more on Saturday.  "Ugh!" said Lee and Mare, "we peeled 15 pound of potatoes for salad.  Elvon mixed all of it...how we don't know.  Don cooked more than 30 slabs of ribs and a zillion pounds of pulled pork!" By the end of the weekend the food was gone, the guests were winging their way home, and soon Lee and Mare were home tired but happy.

Tuesday there was a good deal of rain and clouds.  We were worried as Lee, Pam, and I had planned an ambitious hike for Wednesday in the Indian Peaks area.  As luck would have it, Wednesday morning dawned clear and cool.  We were off by 6:00 a.m. as it would take more than an hour to drive to the trailhead for Mt. Audubon (header picture is Pam and Lee on the summit).  There was a four mile tramp to the summit.  We were surprised that the first mile was gentle and wandered through pine trees and duff packed trail.  Soon enough though we were hiking through granite and rubble packed trail and came out beyond the krumholtz (trees dwarfed because of temperature and altitude).  Now we really began to work.  The trail book advised hikers to stick to the trail that winds through beautiful meadows marked by cairns (piles of rock).  The meadows were littered with wild flowers and the views as we slugged higher and higher were amazing.  The three of us were not so amazing.  We stopped often to breathe and rest.  The summit of Mt. Audubon, which seemed a reasonable goal at 6 a.m., looked almost out of reach.  The longer we hiked, the farther away it appeared.  People who were ahead of us looked like ants and never seemed to get bigger.  Finally however, three ants did get bigger, and just before we got to the final slog up a huge granite strewn shoulder of mountain, we caught up.  The ants turned out to be two 30 something guys, a small boy (son of one of the guys), and a black lab.  They were resting--sprawled out on the side of the trail, having a snack.  The dog was begging to be let off leash so he could chase marmots and pikas, and the little guy seemed to be happy as a clam.  No whinging.  No whining...just a big grin and happy to be on the trail.

We pushed on after a few minutes.  Halfway up the granite mass, we stopped to rest by a large cairn.  None of the three of us knew if we had enough energy left to push on, so we decided to have some water and eat our lunch.  After about 20 minutes, we decided to leave our packs where we were and climb on to the next cairn and see how we felt.  At the next cairn, we took a few minutes to catch our breath and decided to try going to the next cairn. We knew this was it.  None of us anticipated coming this way again.  When we reached that next pile of rocks, we met a woman and a dog coming down from the summit.  She told us the 360 degree view was worth any effort to summit.  "And," she said, "you're almost there."  That was enough to get us scrambling from boulder to boulder, stopping to breathe every few minutes.  There was no more talking.  No more discussion about whether to go on or not.  Every bit of energy went in to just getting there.  And then! We WERE there.  13,223 feet on the summit.  The views were breathtaking.  There were only two or three others on the summit and no wind.  How lucky can we be? Now we could talk.  "Wow!"  "Oh, look over there."  "That's the back of Long's Peak."  "And there, north and south Arapahoe..."  What an incredible place.  We took pictures, mugged, pointed out other places we'd hiked, sat down in one or two of the rock walled wind shelters that others had built for protection, and cheered when the two guys, the lab, and the little boy got to the summit.


Was he ever pleased.  It was his first 13,000 foot summit.  Pam asked him how old he was.  "I'm five," he said snuggling in to the boulders in one of the rock shelters.  "Not too many fives get up here.  You are pretty special," Pam told him.  Later on Lee asked him how old he was and he replied with a grin, "I'm FIVE!  Not too many fives get up this high."  We all laughed.  Clouds began to gather to the south and west...serious looking clouds.  So we decided it was time to go down.  Getting down was no easy feat either as it took a good deal of scrambling over big boulders--butt sliding, and watching for cairns so we didn't miss our packs.  Finally packs found and large boulders behind, we started the long walk back to the trailhead.  On the way down, there was time and breath to think about taking some pictures of the flowers.  There was time to think about the sound of walking on granite rubble strewn trails.  The sound is hollow...as if each crunching step almost echoes...as if the rocks were hollow.  None of which is the case.  The small rocks twist and turn as you step on them...and so too do your ankles and knees.  I marveled (as I do often) about how wonderfully the human body is constructed...how ankles act as gimbals so that the weight can be transferred from hip, through knee, onto foot without breaking something or falling over.  (Here I've looked up a meaning of gimbal... interesting:  A gimbal is a pivoted support that allows the rotation of an object about a single axis).  So, precisely what was happening with us over and over and over...four more miles.

We stopped in a beautiful meadow, and with not a good deal of grace, but sweet compliance, I asked Lee and Pam to dance so that I could get a "Sound of Music" like video.  The clouds pushed up toward us and down we went again.  Four miles are not a lot, but the end of a hard hike seems never ending.  Finally we were back at the parking lot.  Gratefully we shucked our packs into the back of the car, plopped down on the hot seats, and rolled for home.  Later, we were crushed to find this description of the Mt. Audubon hike:  Unlike some of its neighbors, Mount Audubon is a gentle mountain that is best characterized by broad ridges and large expanses of tundra. As such, it is a mountain best appreciated by those who favor a leisurely stroll among the wildflowers over a hard scramble among the talus.  Is it our age?  The day?  No matter.  We have summited Mt. Audubon!

The next day, Pam and I drove to Denver to help celebrate the birthday of our dear friend, Donna Brennan.  We had a wonderful lunch, great conversation, and as always...for Pam and me it is a bright day when we can see Donna.  As we drove back toward the mountains we got several texts telling us that there were flash flood warnings for Rocky and that it was pelting rain up there.  When we arrived home and turned on the 5 o'clock news, we learned that indeed there had been a flash flood in the burn area of Fern Lake.  Two riders on horseback had to take shelter behind a huge rock formation, and four of our hiking rangers and two law enforcement rangers (called L.E.'s) had to hike in, reroute hikers who were higher up on the trail, and rescue the riders and horses.  At the same time, a woman was struck by lightning on a trail off of the Alpine Visitor's Center (11,790 feet).  We have not learned about her condition.

And so it goes in the mountains.  Lucy got a new haircut on Saturday and she looks sweet and shiny black with very white, clydesdale feet!  We went over to Cheryl and Kay's to see Cheryl's nephew Rustin and his wife Jenn and their two kids Liam and Nealy.  So wonderful to be connected to three generations and more of our family and our friend's families. We played with the now moms and dads when they were but wee ones themselves.

If you have gotten this far in the blog, I thank you so much for sticking with me.  There are pictures of everything at this address:


http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/72157634732513037/


I've been playing with a new ap for my iPhone.  It's called Photosynth and it does amazing 360 panoramas.  You can find the four I took on Mt. Audubon here:  

http://photosynth.net/userprofilepage.aspx?user=windwalker1&content=Synths

Just an fyi...the pano's are best seen on an iPad.  If you have a Mac, you'll have to download and install microsoftsilver to have the pics be interactive.  Those of you with PC's should be fine.  

For this time being...we wish you a good week, love to make you happy, sunshine to warm you, and rain to grow your grass...so it goes.
Bonnie

What a week it has been.
Monday, July 1:  We are officially in the Colorado monsoon season.  Thunder storms roll in each afternoon accompanied by high winds, sheets of rain and often hail.  Our friend Marla’s daughter Laura, and her boyfriend Jarod are in Colorado.  They stayed with us Saturday evening and on Sunday, as we headed off for Tundra patrol, they moved into a camp site in the National Park.  On Monday morning we picked up Starbuck’s coffees for everyone, and met Laura and Jarod just as they were breaking camp.  They left their car at the trailhead where they would trek out from backpacking in three days, and we drove them up to Bear Lake.  Together we walked to the trailhead and watched them go off up toward Flat Top Mountain loaded with food, water, and excitement.  It was like watching our children go off to school alone for the first time, even though they are 20 somethings, very capable of taking care of themselves and each other.

Tuesday, July 2:  Back up to Bear Lake and headed for the summit of Flat Top ourselves.  This time in the company of Lee, her great nieces Becca and Katie, their husbands Tommy and Philipp, and Becca and Tommy’s (barely) three month old son, Fitz.  As hikes to Flat Top go it was a good one.  There was a great deal of heavy breathing (especially from Pam and me), beautiful scenery, picture taking, and a stop so that Becca could feed Fitz.  He was a dream, and made his first summit in fine fashion (a diaper change made it even better)!  Flat Top is 12354 ft / 3765 m.  We add the measure in meters because Philipp is Swiss and he had just come in two days earlier.  Good man!  The wind came up and the temperature dropped about 10 degrees while we were taking pictures and eating snacks on top, so we came down quickly...a stop to feed Fitz on halfway down and soon we were all safe and exhausted at home.

Wednesday, July 3:  Lee and Mare were hosting a grand wedding celebration for Katie and Philipp at their house on the 4th.  We spent this day finishing decorations, making sure all the food was ready, polishing Jeeps (the beginning of the party was a surprise parade, complete with tin cans on the Jeeps), and rounding up last minute flourishes.  Oh yes...napping, and thinking about tomorrow.  Just below us and across Little Valley Rd. lives a family of eight kids and two parents.  We have watched the family grow year by year, and marveled at their shrieks and yells as they played together during the summer months.  Several years ago I was pulled to our deck by the sound of trumpets and kazoos.  It was the Westley family, marching in single file--all dressed in red, 4th of July tshirts.  They piled into the family van and took off for Grand Lake where they love to spend the 4th to camp and watch the fireworks there.  On this day, several of the younger kids were playing in the yard. 

Thursday, July 4:  In the morning, we gathered at Lee and Mare’s to put up decorations, arrange deck furniture, move the beverages to coolers, and make sure all was taken care of.  Liz, Brandy’s partner assured us that Katie suspected something, but had no clue as to what we were doing.  Brandy brought the three layers of the wedding cake, and just before the “doings” started, decorated it beautifully with fresh flowers.  At 3 o’clock, the four Jeeps (Lee & Mare’s, Cheryl’s, Cody’s, ours) plus, Cad on her Vespa (parade marshall) assembled at the Ace Hardware to put decorations and cans on the vehicles.  At 4 o’clock we arrived at Brandy’s door and Lee went in to get Katie and Philipp.  SURPRISE!  I’ll let the pictures do the talking.  Suffice it to say that Philipp kept saying, “I feel so special...” and Katie added, “This is just like a real wedding party!”  Katie and Philipp were married last September 5th in Zurich.  Lee, Mare, Lee’s sister Elvon, Pam and I attended via Skype!

Friday, July 5:  Wearily, Pam, Lee and I rolled off to work at our volunteer job at Bear Lake in Rocky.  The shift was uneventful, but packed with hikers big and little bound for here, there, and everywhere.  We were all delightfully surprised when one of the visitor's, in line for the shuttle bus called out, "Bonnie?  Bonnie Beach?"  It was Donna Cox, wife of former New Trier West principal, Dave Cox.  Dave, of course, was there too and we had a fine reunion chat before they took the next bus down to town.  When we got off at 1 o’clock, all of us were hoping to get in a nap before Lee went to a family gathering at Brandy’s and Pam and I went off to a cook out at neighbor’s Kristi and Lyn.  As we drove toward town, there were dings and pings from all of our iPhones as we came back into cell range.  Lee listened to a phone message and then said, “Oh my god!  There was a huge accident in Grand Lake last night after the fireworks. The Westleys were crossing the street and they were hit by a guy driving a pick up.  They think alcohol was involved on the driver’s part.  Greg (the father) was killed instantly.  Debbie (the mom) and three of the kids were airlifted to Denver.”  We were stunned and drove home in silence as Lee called Mare and tried to get more information.  Lee is our home owner’s association President.  The Westleys are part of our community and association.

Partying was the last thing that any of us wanted to do that evening, but we were expected and we went.  Our party was at Lyn and Kristi’s...they too are neighbors of the Westley’s.  As it turned out, it was theraputic to talk with people who knew nothing of the accident, and with the few who did.  At one point, I mused to a friend, “How many times do I have to be reminded to treasure every minute, every hour of every day with Pam, our family and friends, in the world?”  Lyn looked at me and said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.  We are only human.  We get lost and caught up and forget.  Events overwhelm us.  The lessons are here to teach and remind us to spread love, to be gentle and kind with one another.”

Saturday, July 6:  The day of our home owner’s annual meeting.  We met Lee and Mare early and went down to the pavillion at Lake Estes where our annual meetings are held.  As people began to arrive, we were set up and ready.  The tone of the meeting was very subdued, as one might expect.  Lee  opened the meeting by asking one of our members who is a retired minister to lead a prayer.  She gave an update on the condition (as we knew it) of the surviving Westley family members, and then reported that a fund had been set up to help the family. After that, she progressed through the agenda in her usual efficient manner.  When the meeting was over, we cleaned up and went home.  That night was the final dinner with Lee’s family at Lee and Mare’s.  Don and Elvon (Lee’s brother in law and sister) and Katie and Philipp were leaving that evening to drive back to Minnesota where Don and Elvon would throw another two wedding receptions for Katie and Philipp:  one with family (25 people), and one with family and friends (60 people).

Saturday night:  I watch the house below us when darkness comes.  The older Westley boys come back from their hospital vigil.  Lights go on.  There is no laughter, no noise, no people moving about in front of the windows.  When I get up in the middle of the night, a few lights remain on.  By morning, the boys are gone again.  The family has always kept to themselves.  They are well known in their church.  Greg’s mom and dad are in town as is Debbie’s sister.  We know they are wrapped in care, and love, and concern--by people known and unknown to them...

Sunday, July 7:  We have collapsed.  The day is spent reading, writing some, finishing a DVD for Katie and Philipp...thinking about life and love, loss, new beginnings, love...and so I will close for now.  Send your prayers and hearts out to the Westley family...and remember to shower the people you love with love.  Every minute, every day is precious.  All we have is what is in the here and now.  Fill it with gentleness.  That's it for the time being.

Pictures for this week that was can be found at:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/

Do You See What I See?

Hello From the Rockies...

Temperatures are unusually hot today...giving us more worries about fire and fire danger.  It seems that a good deal of Colorado is burning, but thankfully for us, the nearest fire is 90+% contained.  That fire is on the western side of the Park in an area called Big Meadow.  No structures are threatened, and the fire burned in an area full of pine beetle killed trees.

In Little Valley, life goes on as usual.  We are nearing the end of pine pollen season which means we will soon have an end to the dusty yellow veneer that covers everything--inside and out.  Most of the snow has melted both here and in the Park.  Babies are being born and we have had the opportunity to do a few "game drives" to see what is happening.  It amazes me that I never, more than this year, realized that all babies play:  human, marmot, coyote, elk, deer, moose just to name a few that we've seen.  I would say the exception to our viewing would be the young, great horned owls.  The only "play" we've seen from them is a great flexing of wings just before they fledge.

I have been blogging like crazy...in my mind.  That's not too helpful to those of you who like to know what's going on out here.  So, I thought I'd start with this one, just to let you know we are safe and well.  Next week holds the Fourth of July.  This year the big celebration for our friends is a delayed (by almost a year) wedding reception/celebration for Lee's great niece Katy Pietsch and her Swiss partner Philipp Reist.  They were married in Switzerland last fall.  

If you click on the following address, you will see a set of pictures called:
"Do You See What I See?"       http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/
The pictures are from an early morning drive we did with neighbors Kristi Mann and Lyn Ferguson.  The lead picture of the little boy, binoculars to his eyes, cradled by his dad says it all.  There was loads to see...and lots of babies at play.  The set shown next to this one holds about 20 pictures of the coyote pups we have been watching.  They are really adorable and their parents are beautiful and splendid.

The best to you all...for the time being, so long from the mountains.

Comin' Home

The party's over! The awards are given. A wonderful time was had by all. Lee and Mare should be landing in Denver about now, with a two hour drive home. We are not too far from Lexington, Kentucky in a funky little motel. A six hour drive tomorrow should bring us back to the Ant Farm. Pam, once again, proved to be a tour guide par excellence. Thank you for a great adventure. We had a grand time touring Charleston and our drive up to Charlotte was uneventful. The award ceremony at the AAHPERD convention was inspiring, to say the least. I want to thank Lee and Mare for arranging for me to receive this Pathfinder Award...and Hank Bangser, Gail Gamrath, and Denise Izatt for writing for me, and seeing only the best. Below are some pictures from our last day in Charleston. We took a tour of the restored Nathaniel Russell House, then went out with Gullah Tours...a look at the African American, enslaved persons side of the Charleston story. Thanks always to those of you reading this...it is alway fun to put up a blog, and you are patient and loyal followers.



Ourside of Russell House and some of the flora on the grounds






Kissing Crepe Myrtle (my interpretation...not theirs)



Nesting night herons in Battery Park



White people's jail in the "old days." The jail for blacks was on the other side. It was destroyed in an earthquake in the late 1800's



Tenement houses built by the WPA...encouraged by Eleanor Roosevelt...now part of the poorer section of Charleston



The graves of enslaved persons were often knocked over, paved over, and built over through the ages. These headstones, propped against a fence by the parking lot of a Charleston church are some of the "preserved" gravestones. One presumes the graves are beneath the asphalt, grasses, and church buildings and walkways.



The house of world famous, African American blacksmith and wrought iron artist, Philip Simmons. His gates can be seen all over Charleston, at the Smithsonian in Washington, DC and in many foreign countries. The iron work was so prized that when a gate owner changed residences, he would take the gate to the new home.













One of Simmons' famous heart gates, two pictures of his blacksmith's shop,and a portrait of the man himself. He died only a few years ago, but his apprentice continues to work at the forge.



Clowns with the human tennis ball and giant racquet at the AAHPERD convention



Receiving the 2013 Illinois Pathfinder Award...this is for all of the women who made and inspired my career and furthered my passion and appreciation for the human body in motion: Barbara Purrington, Sandy Canon, Shirley Gieck, Jeanne Squires, Anna Clementina Vaz, Leta Walters, Fae Witte, Betty Prange, the dancers at SJSC, Iris Boulton, Gerry Ryberg, Char Anzalone, Millie McManus, Eleanor Metheny, Rosalind Cassidy, Betty van der Smissen, Dot Harris...and so many more. And here's to the women athletes, dancers, joggers, dreamers, believers, movers and shakers of the future. Long may you live and prosper! You Go, Olivia!!







The End
(of this journey)

Location:Brenwood St,Berea,United States