Getting away to RMNP

This week is Fire Week -- not one of my themes, but there's a fire raging in the hills to the west of us, and that's going to affect us all until they can get it out. It started Saturday afternoon. Saturday evening, walking home from the park, we commented on how vivid the clouds were and didn't that one look like smoke? "It IS smoke," I said to Rocket Boy, as we gazed at the towering "cloud" with reddish-brown streaks. "There must be a fire in the mountains." When I got on the computer that night I found it -- the Cold Springs Fire, started (we eventually learned) by some transients from Alabama who didn't extinguish their campfire properly. They put rocks on it. Don't people know anything? Earlier this summer there was an article in the paper about all the random campers up in the hills, a "disaster waiting to happen." Well, here's the disaster.

Only five homes have burned so far, but the fire is almost a square mile in size, 0% contained, and thousands of people have been evacuated. The air down here in town is sometimes very smoky and sometimes not. Kid A, off at his summer school (in the west part of town, much closer to the action), said he could see flames from the playground. The flames were "up at the top of a mountain." He's quite worried about the fire and keeps asking me if it will come down to where we are. It won't, unless something really crazy happens (I leave out the second part when I talk to him about it).

So anyway, yesterday was supposed to be 98 degrees in Boulder, so Rocket Boy suggested an excursion to Rocky Mountain National Park. I'm a little leery of mountain drives right now, after the Father's Day disaster, but staying home on a blazing hot day sounded unpleasant. So I said OK as long as we did not drive Trail Ridge Road -- on a summer weekend it gets clogged with cars. The kids didn't want to go, but we basically ignored them and went anyway. I got to listen to my new America CD in the car.

We drove first to the Moraine Discovery Center and looked at the exhibits. Then we decided to go to either Bear Lake or Sprague Lake, where there are little trails. Rocket Boy REALLY wanted to do a hike of some sort, and we thought a hike around, or to, a lake would interest the twins (who are convinced they don't like hiking, to the great consternation of their parents). We got there late enough that the road to the lakes was open and we didn't have to take the little shuttle bus that they have in that part of the park -- but we took it anyway, because we thought it would be fun.

We intended to get off the shuttle bus at Sprague Lake, but it turned out we were on the wrong shuttle bus line. So we went to Bear Lake instead, where neither of us had ever been and which is truly a zoo.

Here's the main trailhead: Grand Central Station. I honestly don't think I've ever seen a busier trailhead, or for that matter busier trails. It was a little disconcerting, but I kept reminding myself that it was a good thing that so many people were hiking, even if they did get in my way.

We first went to the right and walked the short distance to Bear Lake itself, which is very pretty. Then we took the little half-mile hike around the lake, and we all enjoyed it. Rocket Boy and Kid A went to the left and Kid B and I went to the right, and we met in the middle, at which point Kid A decided to follow Kid B and me so that he could show us the sights he'd just seen with Dad. These included a chipmunk and numerous blue dragonflies. Dad continued around the circle and then started over again, so he met up with us again as we were finishing the circle.

After Bear Lake we returned to the hub and then went to the left, toward Nymph Lake. Even though it was only a half-mile hike, it was a half-mile uphill, and I am so fat and out of shape. I was determined to make it, but it was not easy (despite its "Easy" rating). I kept stopping to try to get my heart rate down. The last time we went to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, I tried the "heart rate" section of the Health exhibit. My resting heart rate measured at 60 beats per minute, typical for me, so the computer told me I should get it up to about 132 during exercise. When I then rode on the little exercise bike I discovered that it was very easy to get to 132 and very hard not to go up to 150 or more (at which point the computer attached to the bike yelled at me to get my heart rate down). So now when I exercise I focus on trying NOT to get to the point where my heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest, and if my heart rate does get that high, I try to get it down before continuing. It feels wimpy, but it does make exercise more pleasant.

The kids are in reasonable shape, but they complained all the way. It probably didn't help that they were wearing Crocs with socks, instead of "regular shoes," i.e., sneakers. We'd brought their regular shoes, but they came up with the Crocs & socks idea and I said OK, whatever. Bad Mom.

Nymph Lake, when we arrived, was definitely worth the effort. We were so surprised to see all the pond lilies, with their yellow blooms.

I would have liked to continue on the trail to Dream Lake and Emerald Lake, but it was about 4:30 and we had promised the kids a mini golf outing. Some people asked me to take a picture of them in front of the lake, and then Rocket Boy wanted to ask them to take a photo of OUR family -- but the twins were long gone, racing back down the trail. Still, we'll remember that we were there. And we have reason to come back again, maybe in early fall.

On the way back on the shuttle bus, Rocket Boy said, "It was like old times," and I agreed. We used to have so much fun hiking together.

Mini golf was fun too. There's this great, funny little mini golf place just outside of the park, called Tiny Town. I've driven past it many times over the years, but this was the first time I'd patronized it (Rocket Boy has taken one or both twins twice before). I used to think "How tacky! Who would play mini golf when there's all of Rocky Mountain National Park just waiting for you?" But things change when you have kids...

It's only $3 per person for 18 holes, and although it's a fairly minimalist course, there are flowers everywhere, especially poppies, and birdhouses with actual birds nesting in them, and benches to sit on, and it's just basically cute. We were, as always, the noisiest group there -- I had to spend a lot of time telling Kid A to "get off the green" when the rest of us were taking our turns, and the kids kept screaming at each other -- but we had a good time. On the whole trip I was making an effort NOT to yell, to try to encourage everyone to be nice to each other. It was worth the effort.

We took Highway 7 home, stopped in Allenspark for pizza, then Crystal Spring for some cold, clear water. And then home to hot, smoky Boulder and our worries about the fire. I sure hope they can make some progress on the fire today. It's cooler, but quite breezy, and we all know wind and fire are not a good combination. Hoping no more homes are lost, or as few as possible, and no firefighters are harmed. When you live in the west, fire is kind of a way of life, but it's no fun.