Rocky Mountain Highs and Lows

I just returned from a short vacation in the Colorado mountains with my family and it was great. But, as with most worthwhile experiences in life, it was bitter sweet. At this stage in our family life, there was always present the nagging thought that this could well be the last vacation all three of our children spend together with us. We have one child in college, one married and living back East, and one a senior in high school. Consequently, at least my wife and I were aware that this journey to the mountains could be the final link in a long chain of family outings that have included trips to Las Vegas, Disney World, Carlsbad Caverns and the Texas Coast.

If the movie "National Lampoon's Vacation" is any indication - and I believe that it is - there is a commonality to such family trips. There is always the unrealistic and unfulfilled expectations, the inevitable arguments, the little (and sometimes not so little) disasters and, let's face it, the sometimes inhumane experience of sharing mile after mile of open highway in a small car filled with your family. Still, I am reminded of a 1967 song by the Tremeloes entitled, "Even the Bad Times are Good." I always end the vacation experience feeling blessed and thankful for every moment.

This trip was especially interesting for me. I grew up in the Southwest and spent a goodly amount of my youth in the Rocky Mountains. However, I have lived on the Kansas prairies for 24 years now and I have changed because of the time spent on level ground. Still, it was not until I made this trip to Colorado that I realized just what a flat lander I had become. I had heard fellow Kansans speak of a claustrophobic feeling associated with being in the mountains, surrounded by trees so thick that you couldn't fully see the sky, but I had never given it much credence until this trip.

The woods can be especially unsettling at night, when the evening chill and near total darkness surround you. As you sit there in the dark, you can easily realize the thoughts of your prehistoric forefathers, as they gathered around their campfire, surrounded by their dogs and kinsmen, and wondered what sort of creatures were wandering out there in the shadows, just beyond the firelight.

Needless to say, as we drove back and hit the prairies of eastern Colorado and western Kansas, I was happy to once again see grasslands and wheat fields stretching to the horizon. I was glad to fully feel the sun on my face and to fully see the sky. It was good to be home.