Every trip I've taken has had some kind of notable impact on me, and this 2008 Colorado trip was no exception, having led me to a particularly notable realization about my relationship to the United States as I neared home at the very end of the trip. To mark this occasion, I use this blog post to share my reflection at the end of an account I wrote about the trip.
I
have to say, this was a truly remarkable vacation, for a number of
reasons. Certainly the location was a
great place: up in the Rocky Mountains.
Indeed, the mountains themselves made the location even better suited
for a vacation like this.
What was nice about this trip was
that, although we had been to the Rockies on vacation before, we had never been
to this particular area in northern Colorado.
Thus, I had the wonderful opportunity to get to know another town a
little better. And we spent plenty of
time exploring the town: We walked through the Lincoln Avenue Business District
(and went to church in the same area), rode our bikes around the area, and got
a great view of it all from the top of Mount Werner. I also enjoyed getting to know the history of
the town at the Tread of the Pioneers Museum, which I recognized this time as
something really enjoyable. Even going
to church gave me a sense of the town, for while at church, the announcement
was made about a special project to expand the church to suit the expanding population
of the town in the past few decades.
Another wonderful excursion we had in the mountains
was at Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP).
Being close by, I requested we go there for a day outing. The nice thing was that we went to an area of
RMNP that we hadn’t seen the last time we went there, on our trip to Estes
Park. On that trip, we focused more on
exploring the eastern park of RMNP. This
time, we entered by way of Granby and Grand Lake (where there’s actually a big
lake), and explored the western part of RMNP.
For sure, the most interesting thing I did was wade all the way across
the Colorado River, which I hadn’t realized has its origins in RMNP. Additionally, I liked seeing the Holzwarth
Historic Site. Our journey finally led
to the point at which our explorations stopped the last time: at the Milner
Pass. Indeed, there is so much rich
beauty to view in America’s national parks, and I always enjoy visiting them.
One of the best things about this
vacation was when we went to Denver toward the end of the week to visit with
Great Aunt Carmen and our other relatives who live in the area. Indeed, I can remember how excited I was to
see Aunt Carmen. The excitement began to
build as we left Steamboat Springs and headed east. As we entered the western Denver metro area
on I-70, my excitement began to build even more. And it just continued as we went onto I-76,
then exited onto Pecos Road, then went on Elmwood Lane. The final rush came when we turned on to
Greenwood Boulevard, and there she was, Aunt Carmen, standing out in front,
talking with the neighbors—and what a rush of joyful excitement I felt when I
saw her as we pulled into the driveway.
As soon as we settled into the
house, I discovered something about Aunt Carmen that I hadn’t really noticed
before: She is probably one of the
nicest people I know. She was so
welcoming while we were in her house, and she made sure we felt comfortable and
let us settle in like our own home, letting us have whatever. I can never remember anyone ever being so
hospitable like Aunt Carmen, and it made me feel so good—so much, in fact, that
I wished we could have stayed longer.
Another remarkable moment came later
that day. I remembered this tall hill
whose base was at Greenwood Boulevard that went way up for a few blocks last
time I was at Aunt Carmen’s house. I
decided to walk up the hill and see what I could see. So I walked up, and the sight at the top was
totally amazing. I could see the lights
of the inner city of Denver off to the south, and to the west, I could see the
tops of the mountains of the Rockies’ Front Range. Off further to the south, there were some
storm clouds, and there was lightning flashing from them. And toward the east of that, I saw a clear
sky with a near-full moon. It was a sight
to behold, and one that I can only get in Denver.
The next day I had the wonderful
opportunity to visit with a number of my Denver cousins. I got to meet my newest cousin, Leonard
III. Later, we visited with a number of
others at Aunt Carmen’s house, sitting the evening away, chatting and having a
good time doing what Aunt Carmen says and does best: “party, party,
party”. (That makes me want to add that
not only is Aunt Carmen an enormously kind person, she’s also very lively and
likes to keep things upbeat, making it even nicer to be around her.) It was so good to visit with everybody. And it was certainly long overdue, for it had
been seven years since we all last visited Denver, stayed at Aunt Carmen’s
house, and visited with everyone there.
That’s what made it especially good to visit with our Denver relatives.
There was one other person we
visited while in Denver, though we didn’t have the opportunity to actually see
him. It had been a few months since
Great Uncle Leonard passed away. He had been
interred at Fort Logan National Military Cemetery, having been given the honor
for his military service in the Korean War.
I wanted to make sure we visited his grave to pay our respects to a
person I had only wished I had gotten to see a little more of. So while we were driving around on Friday, we
stopped at the cemetery and visited his grave.
I laid a few flowers I found at the Yampa River Botanic Gardens and a
note on his grave. It was an honor to do
such to a veteran, having had the same sentiments about visiting Grandpa
Martin’s grave at Abraham Lincoln National Cemetery in Illinois.
The last truly remarkable moment of
the vacation occurred as we headed home.
While driving into Steamboat Springs, we saw a number of signs on USFR
40 advertising the FM Light and Sons Store, which sells mainly Western-style
apparel. The signs started as soon as we
left the town of Kremmling, which was about 50 miles away. At about 25 miles away, there was a sign for
a $5 Western Cowboy-style hat. When we
visited the store on Sunday, I debated whether or not I should buy the
hat. I decided to wait on it, to see how
much I would spend in the next few days.
By Thursday, the day we left Steamboat Springs, I decided to buy the
hat, feeling iffy about buying a tchotchke.
As we moved through the airport on
the way to our flight back home, I recognized that my new hat wouldn’t fit in
my luggage, so I would have to wear it home.
So I wore it onto the plane, onto the CTA bus, onto the CTA train, and
then along the short walk home from the CTA station. As I walked, I felt something inside of me,
declaring that I am now a Westerner: I
may not be a Westerner by birth right, or even by where I live, but I truly
felt at that moment that my experience on this vacation had made me into a true
Westerner, at least an honorary one at that.
I bore this new honorary title with great feeling as I returned to my
home in the land of the prairies.
But you know, what’s great is that whether I’m in the prairies, in the mountains, or anywhere in between, this is all part of America, this grand, beautiful county that I love. And as an American, it’s all there for me to revel in, because of the efforts of those like Uncle Leonard and Grandpa Martin, who sacrificed so much to keep our country the way it is. Now they have the high honor of lying in rest in national military cemeteries, where we come to honor them and what they did. They made sure this country stayed in such a state, so I could truly be proud to be a part of it all. Indeed, it’s all before me, waiting for me to step forth into it and have it.
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| On Thursday, August 14, 2008, on the way from Steamboat Springs, CO, to Denver, I asked Dad to pull our rental Jeep Commander over to the side of the road so he could get this photo of me posing in my FM Light and Sons hat. |
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