Texas Deb Goes To Crested Butte - Day Two
Texas Deb Goes To Crested Butte – Day Two
We left Raton around eight in the morning. Believe it or not we took our time and ate breakfast at a leisurely pace and even packed up our things slowly and still managed to hit the road at 8 o clock in the morning. It seems like even when I try my hardest at home I can’t get all of us to church on time at 8:30 on Sunday morning and our church is literally a half a mile from our house. I guess that’s the benefit of not only being on vacation but also being just the husband and me.
It is both liberating and a bit disconcerting to only have to answer to each other. We are remembering what it’s like to just be us. I hope that’s not a sad thing to say. That’s not really what I intend. Parenting is a full time job.
Nevertheless, it was hard not to smile in the hotel dining area when kids would spill cereal and yell a little too loudly at their mommas when they surveyed the mess or when I saw Daddies smothering their mild frustration with well-practiced patience when another kiddo was having trouble deciding between pancakes or muffins at the self-serve breakfast line with 20 people behind them lying in wait with empty Styrofoam cereal bowls, some of them a little older and clearly used to a routine helping of coffee and fiber. I fell somewhere between those two categories as an observer I suppose.
With full bellies and a full tank of gas we headed north. That is, after a short stop at Auto Zone to get the ol’ truck some oil. That Ford is 10 years old and as Allen popped the hood and put in some oil “just in case” I couldn’t help but think of how fast those last ten years have gone. What a good truck.
The landscape gradually presented us with increasing scrubby covered rock formations that reached higher into God’s blue sky. The smoky, imposing giant clouds in the distance began to prove they were not misty illusions after all but behemoths of another sort. They are rock and hold high as if on a pedestal bare stone veins made of wind, water and snow over a powerful span of time. While the pines and firs seem to bolster those rocky pathways and flatter the ski runs that mimic them alongside you can tell that the green aspens are dancing their summer dance up there in the heights, little leaves fluttering with each breath and lady like sigh of the wind because soon they will turn golden with age and fade away until next year.
Crested Butte is a busy town right now. Apparently they are having an Arts festival in Crested Butte proper which makes the place very peoply. I also assume we are not the only people escaping our oppressive homeland that is currently 99 degrees for a third story condominium with no air conditioning necessary. I can certainly see the attraction.
Houses and lodges are nestled in the mountain’s foothills seemingly sporadically I’m sure to accommodate the grade of the land and the winter snow. Their differing features and directions, not one like the other, makes them appear as a quaint village and I can picture them lit up under the snow in the winter with snowsuit clad visitors climbing their hills to retreat the cold in front of a warm hearth and crackling fire.
While it is currently more crowded than I prefer, and there are more touristy type things to do (and spend money on) I’m hoping to hike some and explore these beautiful surroundings.
It’s hard not to see God’s might in these beautiful mountains. I know they are not the worlds largest but they are so statuesque and beautiful. It’s a visceral reminder that I am so, so small. That fact seems a little intimidating and contributes a bit to my overall mood at first. Then I realize that the creator of this beauty, so magnificent in scope also knows how many hairs are on my head and the deepest desires of my heart and loves me.
