US Route 287 from Lander, WY to Rawlins, I would dare to call desolate. Miles of chaparral in every direction. Great racks of snow fencing stretch for hundreds of overlapping yards. But this is literally where the deer and antelope play, the latter of whom strolled across the highway — as if they owned the place!
But of all the sights to see 32 years after Cousin Betsy and I took this road on a day of beautiful, unstoppable skies, Split Rock Mountain showed up on the horizon, much to my delight. Even the pull-off still exists where I shot a prize-winning photo (only in my mind) of the mountain all those years ago. We did not stop, as the early morning light was all wrong for a good shot.
Some of the few inhabited places we passed: the Mocking Bird Pottery and the Annalope (spelling correct) Café. Then from a distance, a horse, possibly a shaggy and noble mustang, standing alone at the top of a hill. He was magnificent. We drove by too quickly.
South of Laramie, still on 287, the landscape began to reform, re-shape and turn green.
Coming into Estes Park is almost like coming home. Maybe it’s family history — my adopted grandmother held court in her own antique store back in the 1940’s — or maybe it’s just familiarity, as the first of many trips began in 1995 with Gary. In 2012, Frank and I visited Estes and Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) in what became a very memorable trip. In May of 2016 and 2017 Tom and I attempted Trail Ridge Road only to be turned back both times due to snow.
I’ve never been able to spend enough time here — this trip I hope to rectify that. Tonight we walked from our motel into the downtown via a walking trail that winds around the man-made Lake Estes and the creeks that feed it. We found Ed’s Cantina & Grill, as recommended by Frank, and had an early supper. I devoured the sweetest blackberries I’ve ever tasted, and had iced tea with lime for the first time (I know, I know). After supper we walked back to our room, sun still shining. Tomorrow: RMNP.
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