A Brief, Yet Welcome, Glimpse Of Winter

10/12/23

Glenwood Springs, CO

Beepy and the gang are back!

I woke up this morning at 6:15am to help Claire cook breakfast for the group (Thursday morning mandatory Downing House Breakfast) and immediately thought of every reason not to. I suddenly wanted to throw up the food I had ingested about 7 hours before, and my throat was bone dry. I went back to sleep.

I woke up again at 6:45am, feeling the same if not marginally better. Was Paul playing a prank on me when he said breakfast started at 6:45? I figured I’d feel worse if I skipped it, and rolled out of bed. It was still grey, after the rain the night before, but less so.

Breakfast was charming, and a great way to say goodbye to my new friends. Unfortunately I was so full from dinner that I skipped the meal, but enjoyed plenty of coffee. As it turned out, Claire also overslept, and breakfast was prepared by Paul and Zach.

Next was a quick rock gym session with Sam, to say farewell to him. I thought again about how cool my life felt, spontaneously going to the rock gym on a Thursday late in the morning, aside from the fact that I’d been postponing reuniting with Hannah for about a day too long.

One the way back to Boulder, I stopped at a Walmart to look for eclipse glasses, to no success. In the bathroom, I imagined my life was falling apart. Late to meet Hannah, no hope for finding eclipse glasses, need gas, phone battery is low, wondering if I have enough alcohol for my time in Utah. Then I took a deep breath, and decided that none of it mattered.

On our way out of Denver, we experienced what I would consider white-out conditions. I expected snow, seeing the mountains covered in it from downtown Denver, but this was something else. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as triggered by the snow as I thought I would be, or had expressed to others that I would be. Instead, all of the good memories from the last winter came flooding back. Now, even though I reminisced fondly about lone walks in the snow looking for things to climb, I’m sure I would still prefer to be inside, looking at the snow, rather than outside with 15 students.

Around 3pm, we hit a road closure on the 70, where we stat for more than an hour. Luckily, Hannah and I felt right at home, having all the gear we needed to stay warm inside (for the night if needed), plenty of food and water, a good amount of wine, and stories to share from last winter. The time passed very quickly as a result.

I have never seen beauty quick like today. The snowy white hills were dotted with bright yellow Aspens, and as the hills faded into green, the combination of white, green, and yellow was unlike anything I'd seen in person. The tops of the hills were swept away into snowy fog, looking as if an artist left a piece unfinished, with sections still white from the blank paper.

(An awful photo to represent what I saw, but I hope you get the idea)

A few hours later we ended up outside of Glenwood, CO next to an on-ramp, in steady rain. For the first time we cooked dinner inside. It was tight, but worked alright. Alfredo pasta again.

Later, as I stepped outside to pee, a train passed by across the river. Looking rather mystical in the near darkness, I felt as though I was witnessing a voyage not unlike the Polar Express. For the not the first moment that day, I couldn’t believe that this was real life. Then I flashed the roughly 20 passengers I could see seated in the cars.

(Note: Most of the pictures I took are on my other camera, which just died, so I'll have to update this later with more photos.)