Friday, October 11 - This is our last night in an r.v. park for this trip. After 67 days away from home, perhaps it's time to reconnect with friends, family and abode. But there's always a little sadness when we reach this point, as we do enjoy the freedom of the road, the new horizons, the experiences, the people we meet, even if only fleetingly.

We've had a great trip, thanks to good weather, terrific friends like Ken and Connie Marshall in Edmonton, our old high school gang, hosted by Dave and Leone Jobson, cousins in Edmonton, friends to visit tomorrow...Jim and Penny Stewart. Not to mention the many old friends from days in Germany, as we had such a great time on the Alaska cruise. Thanks to the Vances and the Chubbs, and the rest of the committee for a great experience. So we've bankrolled a host of good memories as a result of our excursions, and with hundreds of pictures to attest to that, will be able to hold these memories for a long time.

Today, we visited the Lincoln Museum in Springfield. It was quite a contrast to our visit to the Ike Museum in Abilene. This one if full of high tech...full sized models of characters from the time, holographs that were quite amazing, movies that depicted stages of Lincoln's life, various memorabilia in attractive displays. Some might think it was over the top, but clearly a lot of the museum is aimed to please the younger generation, with all the bells and whistles that young people appreciate. What better way to make history come to life, and to emphasize the basic values that Lincoln stood for.

As mentioned with both Eisenhower and Twain, here was another man who came from a most humble beginning. He had hardly any formal schooling, managing to teach himself to read, and going on to self-teach pretty well everything he learned, including qualifying for the Law. He was also a man who experienced many failures, even to the extent of not managing to make a general store profitable. He ran for the Senate twice, and lost both times. But two years later, was elected President. Perseverence, strong belief in self, a strong partner in his wife Mary, and an amazing will to succeed because of a set of values that propelled him to the place where he could effect amazing change. He suffered many ups and downs, but always stood firmly to his convictions that he could make a difference, and indeed, he did just that.

We've enjoyed these last three days of education. Despite what you might think of the America we know today, there is a history, full of bloodshed as it is, that speaks to us about the value of the individual spirit, and the thought that anyone can achieve great things if determined enough. There are so many problems still to be solved. Trump certainly isn't helping. But the fundamental concept of freedom and respect has to count for something. The ordinary citizen is pretty darned nice...pleasant, friendly, helpful, courteous, kind. Same as almost anywhere I've travelled in around 60 different countries. We have to keep hoping that the good values will come out on top, and people like Trump, Erdowan, and people like them will be put in their place in the long run. And we'll find answers to the big problems.

Enough of my wanderings. I am not sure I'll see the advances that I hope for in my remaining years, particularly as there aren't too many years remaining. But I have terrific grand-kids, with refreshing values, strong, clear values, that if part of a generational movement, will find a way to solve the problems that the world faces. So I have hope for the future, despite some despair for what we face because of an insatiable human urge to have more, to insist that growth is the only true salvation.
Back to the basics. That's what we need. Bring it on, kids.

I know a few of you out there follow this blog of mine, and I thank you for your occasional comments. It's really more for me that I do this, as the blog serves as a sort of journal, a record of good times (and some bad). But if you've enjoyed the ramblings, thank you for listening. That's it for now. Hopefully, more later. Stay tuned.

Thursday, Oct. 10 - Try to do some pics....
First picture is a statement from Ike during his presidency, which was his code of leadership. Quite a contrast for a man who led the largest military operation in the history of mankind, the Normandy Invasion
Second, a core slice of the Eisenhower tree, finally taken down from the fairway at Augusta National. Ike hit this tree many times, and tried to have it taken down. He was refused. This remnant of the tree was presented to his Museum, after he had passed away.
Third, the Cadillac staff car that Ike used during the final year of the war. It was presented to him as a gift in honour of his contribution to the European victory.
Fourth, an 8 foot statue of Ike that stands between his Museum and Library.
Fifth, a photograph of Samuel Clemens, or Mark Twain, that seems to capture what he was all about.
Sixth, a representation of Twain reading to Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer
Finally, original illustrations done by Norman Rockwell Tom Sawyer. He did a series of 8

 for each book, Tom and Huck. These are the originals, all displayed in the Gallery. Really wonderful impressions.

Thursday, Oct. 10 - Two themes for this posting. One has to do with contrast, which I may have hit on before. The second has to do with rising from obscurity to international renown. Got your interest? Hope so.

Contrast - The western side of Colorado is mountains, highs and lows, extreme altitude, perilous drops down dark canyons, exciting views of high peaks, snow-capped ranges, varying vegetation, sometimes ending with nothing above a tree line that you drive through when climbing inside of the Rocky Mountain National Park. Then you leave Denver, and suddenly you're in open flat country, parched, hardly able to support anything but range grasses, open skylines, occasional hills, the mountains a distant memory as you look in your rear view mirror. Hard to believe you're in the same state. Why didn't they divide it into two separate jurisdictions?

As you continue on into Kansas, the parallel continues. Add in wind, and you have the contrast exaggerated, because not only is the land devoted to range and agriculture, the wind blows unceasingly. Once when driving back from Spain, when we were living in Germany, we drove through the south of France, and encountered the Mistral, a wind that blows much like the one we encountered in Kansas. On the way back from Spain, it felt like out VW campervan was literally picked up and moved over about 3 to 5 feet. Two of our colleagues had their trailers blown over as they drove down the highway. It felt like that in Kansas. I fought the wheel the entire time, all the way to Missouri. Not a minute when you could relax, for fear of being blown over into the passing lane.

Interesting, however, is the number of windmills to be seen. Kansas has the second highest potential for wind power in the States, next only to Texas. And they seem to be taking full advantage, as nearly one-third of their electrical production is wind-powered. Who says the Americans aren't moving in the right direction (in some places). Meantime, we blew all over the road, careful not to let it happen when a transport was roaring past on the left lane.

Another discovery. We had noticed fields of a relatively short grass, about two feet tall, topped by red floral growths. Hadn't seen anything like it before. Stopped for gas, and asked the clerk. She said it was sorghum. Turns out that Kansas is the largest producer of this plant in the U.S. The plant has various uses, including animal fodder, production of alcoholic beverages, cereals, and gluten-free products. It grows all over the world, especially in Asia and Africa. We saw it growing in Nepal, but it didn't look like this. Seems to be an emerging crop in dry regions, perfect for Kansas.

The third thing about Kansas is the attitude towards alcohol. We stopped in Abilene in the Covered Wagon R.V. park. The owner told us there was only one pub in town he could think of, 21 blocks from where we were set up. So we walked the 21 blocks, only to find the place was closed. Back w went, stopping at a gas station convenience store, where all they sold was lite beer. The clerk looked up another pub, which was run by three lonely ladies, no clients in sight. All they sold on tap was lite beer. So we gave up. Seems that Kansas has a history of being one of the strictest states with respect to prohibition, and the ideology continues. A very quiet little town...no wonder.

But it is home to the Eisenhower Museum, as Ike came from this little town. Which leads us to our second theme. Ike came up from a very poor family, but his parents instilled in him the basic values of hard work, loyalty, drive and self-improvement. We went through the center, which is excellent, and couldn't help but marvel at his rise, within the military, and then within the political spectrum. When we consider his accomplishments, and compare his values and standards with the current President, we can't help but wish there might be a return to the type of leadership Ike provided. It was a most interesting tour, and has motivated me to learn more about this man.

Add to that the visit we had today at the Mark Twain center in Hannibal, Missouri. He also came from most humble circumstances, and we know where he ended up. He had to go to work as a printer's apprentice at age 14, went on to become a river pilot, and eventually started to write for newspapers, finally producing novels that are still held high in American literature. All from a most humble beginning, his father a failure at most of the things he tried, but his mother a stalwart of values and motherhood.

Tomorrow, we will visit the Lincoln Museum here in Springfield, and will learn more about an individual who also came from humble beginnings. Sounds like the American dream, I guess. But the dream isn't restricted to the U.S. It happens all over the world, which gives us hope that future leaders and people of prominence can come from not just the rich and privileged families, but from the most underprivileged and poor.

We shall proceed tomorrow toward Fort Wayne, Indiana, and then to visit with old friends Penny and Jimmy in Kinsville, Ontario. Almost home. Should be back by Monday. That's it for now. More later, for a wrap-up of this 68 day trip. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, Oct. 8 - Now to try to upload a few pictures. Best to do it separately from verbal postings, as when I try the uploading, I sometimes lose my text. So here goes.

First, the trickle you see is the Colorado River, not far from where it starts its run to the Gulf of California, via the Grand Canyon. Unfortunately, by the time it gets to its destination, it has pretty much petered out to about this size, thanks to the huge draw of water by communities further south.

Second and third, just some views of high Rockies from high elevation, taken at about 12,000 feet.

Fourth, Gail at the start of our hike up to Cub Lake, which was a very good walk into fine scenery.

Fifth, we reached the lake after two hours, poking along because ol' Lar was not breathing too well, where we were met by a lone bull elk on the other side. And sixth, a view of this lovely little lake, nestled into the sides of the mountains.

Seventh, two females who were either sorting out some differences, or were trying to impress the big boy across the way who was keeping an eye on them.
Eighth, the harem in the river behind the Info Center right in the middle of Estes Park town. And ninth, their lord and master, feeling his oats, as this is the rutting season, and he was ready to rut. His bugling was most impressive.

Next is a shot of the Main drag in Estes Park, which I didn't really mean to include. But there it is, the town being quite delightful although as touristy as you can imagine. Almost as busy as Picton.

Second last, a shot from the driver's seat of this strange conglomeration of casinos, parked in the notch of a canyon, big time hotels with parking lots crammed.

And finally, you'll be pleased to know, a model of the State Capital building in Denver. I couldn't find a helicopter to go up for an overhead view, so this will have to do. A truly beautiful piece of architecture, full of interesting bits of history.
That's it. All for now. More later. Stay tuned.

Monday, Oct. 7 - You will note that there is already a posting for this date, but no content. That's because after writing a lengthy and brilliant piece, I lost it somehow. So I have to try vainly to repeat the earlier effort.

We left home two months ago today, and are starting to feel the time has come to head home. We've done most of the things we planned for, and know you can never do everything. But it's been a grand tour, so no regrets. We are now in a little burg called Burlington, still in Colorado, where we managed to find the last site in a tiny little r.v. park that offers nothing but hydro, water and wifi. What more do we need?

But what contrast. We're back out on flat prairie land, somewhat rolling, but mostly flat like our southern prairies. Compare that to where we were on the week-end. We left Granby on Saturday morning, headed into Rocky Mountain National Park, and had one heckuva ride. One of the early stops along the way saw us facing no less than 7 peaks of over 12,000 feet. Amazing. And then guess what!? We climbed and climbed, the air getting cooler with each twist of the road, the wind gaining in intensity. We did stop at one of the lower points to do a nice walk to the area near the origin of the mighty Colorado. A mere stream at this point. But a nice walk.

But on and on up we went after our walk, hitting a high point of 12,183 feet. The air is thin up there, as my gasping clearly told. I had trouble with the altitude for the three days we were at 8,000 feet or higher, finding it hard to sleep, waking up and pulling hard to get more air into the old lungs. A little light-headedness, and headaches were also part of it.  But the views were spectacular, so the drive over the top is well worth it. Gail seemed to be fine with the heights, by the way, tough little person that she is. We descended to our campground in Estes Park, just outside the east gate,  where we were met at the entrance by a wayward and very large bull elk. He wandered around for awhile and finally made his way out of the r.v. park, not paying much attention to the passersby.

Despite the fatigue I was feeling from the altitude, we decided on a nice walk for yesterday, a 2.3 mile walk up to Cub Lake. It wound nicely on a rough trail through several meadow areas, into woodlands of evergreens and aspens, and finally up a vertical climb of 500 feet. That left us both puffing. But it was worth it, as we came upon lovely little Cub Lake, complete with a large male elk on the opposite shore. He was contentedly munching on the fine greenery that encloses the lake, building up strength for what might await him with his harem later in the day. This is elk rutting season, by the way, which has become a major tourist attraction.

After enjoying some time in the warmth of the sun, we headed back down, discovering on the way a herd of elk, about 15 in number, all females except for the boss, who was watching over them very intently. While we were within range, we saw two of the females get into a dispute, rising on their hind legs to paw at each other. Seemed to settle things, for they were quiet afterwards. The herd moved over towards the road, so by the time we got back to our r.v., they were right at the road, attracting a large crowd of onlookers.

But nothing like the herd that we came across in Estes Park. Right behind the Information Center, where we were going to get ideas about best routes to Golden, was a harem of 25 females, standing in and around the river that flows past the center. And above them, on the street across from us, was the King, overseeing his ladies. He was clearly in a position of power, and occasionally made his presence well noted with a very loud bugling. If any of the females showed signs of wandering, they were quickly ushered back to where he wanted them.

After awhile the King went down to the river, rousted a few of the females with little nudges, and than had a bit of a bath, dipping his huge rack of antlers in the river, shaking his head vigorously, stamping his feet, all of which was probably sending signals to the girls. After he was satisfied with his bath, he headed 5 of the ladies off down the street away from downtown, with who knows what in mind. Can you guess? A very interesting experience, with lots of spectators, so many that there were auxiliary police on hand to make sure no-one got too close to the action. The bugling by the big guy was especially intriguing.

Estes Park is a model mountain town, full of shops, restaurants, coffee places and souvenir stores. Gail wanted to do some shopping, so I limped along, no doubt inhibiting her without intending to do so, although she managed a couple of purchases. Then it was off to Golden, following a route that involved 4 different highways. Up and down, down and up, all the way along the route, with quite a few people out enjoying the golden colors of the aspen. One traffic sign acknowledged this practice by warning "enjoy the colours safely".

We finally reached a town called Blackhawk, which we hit just as darkness fell. This town, and its neighbour , Central City, are home to two huge casino centers. There are 10 of them, all high end, tall hotel buildings, fancy frontage, in Blackhawk alone. In fact, that's all there is there, along with an entertainment  center. They call this little town "the richest square mile of real estate in the world". A little hyperbolic perhaps, but maybe true.

This town is enclosed at the high end of  a deep canyon, which we had to negotiate to reach our destination,  making it a pitch black twisting and turning drive for our poor old tired r.v. as we went down, down, down, wondering if we'd ever get to the bottom, cars racing up in the other direction in hordes, carrying eager riders to the casinos, even on a Sunday night. But eventually we entered Golden, and thanks to our unpredictable Lucy (g p s girl), we managed to find our r.v. park in the dark, and were happy to get set up and call it a day.

Today we drove into Denver, and finally managed to find a street where we could park the rig. Our spot was only a few blocks from the State Capital, which we wanted to tour as our only tourist thing in this big city. So we did it, enjoying our self-guided tour considerably. Interesting to note that Colorado has more female elected reps than all the other states except Nevada. Also interesting to note that the official altitude marker is placed on the south steps, denoting 5,280 feet, confirming the city's claim as the Mile High City. The marker has been moved twice, from the 15th step to the 18th step to the 13th step as more refined measurements were taken to confirm that actual altitude spot.

And so we head east, not sure how long it will take to get home. Sorry for the length of this posting, but it was a pretty nice week-end we had. We'll post as we move homeward. That's all for now. Stay tuned. Pictures to follow in a separate posting. More later.

Friday, Oct. 4 - Today was a relatively quiet drive, although we did do a pass of 9,570 feet. But all but the first part was on 2 lane roads, not too busy, with nice scenery, varied, with mountains, a canyon or two, and open range land. We were only about 4 hours on the road, including a stop to buy 2 pizzas for the price of one at the local Kum and Go (I kid you not) service station in Kremmling.

We arrived at an r.v. park near Granby that just opened this year. It's going to be a huge operation once opened completely, with everything from villas to yurts and on and on. Not much is open yet, and our thought to have a swim and a hot tub died when we found the pool in the wide open spaces with the wind howling, and the hot tubs not hot enough to warrant the dip. So we went to the bar, which was fortunately open, and had a beer.

Tomorrow we will drive through the Rocky Mountain Park and end up at Estes, where we have a place booked on their last day of operation. In other words, the season is closing down for the type of travel we do. We're also booked in for Sunday night at Golden, just outside of Denver, and can extend if we decide to do more than a day or two in the city.

I said that I'd post some pictures from the previous three days of adventures. Here goes. Brace yourself for maybe a dozen, if I can manage to upload them.

First picture isn't one I meant to enter, but it's a shot of the 2,000 foot wall that rises above the Gunnison River in the Black Canyon. It's called the painted wall, for obvious reasons, the result of thousands of years of erosion of different layers of rock.
The second shows the Gunnison roaring along at the bottom of the canyon. When going full tilt, it can carry boulders weighing thousands of pounds, creating quite an erosion agent.
The third is a shot of Gail ahead of me as we did a two mile hike below the rim of the canyon.
Fourth, fifthand sixth are pictures of the land we drove through in full fall foliage. Pictures don't do the actual scenery credit, but the golds of the aspens are beautiful.
 Seventh, a series of coke ovens stretching along the road in the coal-mining area south of Carbondale.
Eighth and ninth, Gail relaxing as we clambered up the 1,100 foot vertical to get to the Hanging Lake.
And finally, a couple of shots of said lake, which is quite stunning, and a wonderful reward for a tough hike.
Hope you enjoy the pics. That's it for now. The wind is howling as I write, and it's supposed to go down to -5 C, so we hope we survive the night intact. All for now. More later. Stay tuned.

Thursday Oct 3 - This is our first time to visit Colorado, and we have chosen an excellent time to be here. Not because the tourist numbers are down, as it's sort of between seasons, meaning there are lots of people around doing the things we're doing. But not to a disturbing extent. The main reason to choose this time  of year is because of the fall colours. Despite the fact there aren't many reds in the mountain foliage, the golds and russets and rusts and greens make up for it. Mountainsides are spattered with a variety of hues, creating images my poor photo skills can't capture. But we keep trying.

The other thing you'd better like if you come here...well, two things, actually...canyons and altitude. Everywhere there's a river there's a canyon. None of these streams that meander along, creating ox-bow lakes and lazy curves and turns. Here most of the rivers we've seen so far move along quite rapidly, and have been doing so for millenia upon millenia, cutting, carving, slashing, deepening, creating amazing canyons. Some of these depths you can only see from the rims, so the government has kindly designed roads that let you wind along the top, looking down into the depths at key places.

A case in point: Black Canyon of the Gunnison. This area in south-western Colorado has been turned into a National Park, carefully managed so that people can appreciate the wonders of the canyon. They claim the erosion process here has been going on for 1 million years, which seems like a long time. But the rock that forms the canyon is really hard stuff, black in color, although striated in places with various colours because of different layers piled one on top of the other. In some places, the canyon walls are 3,000 feet high. Not kidding! Not as deep as Grand Canyon, but whereas the GC is very broad, stretching out for miles, this one is very narrow. only several hundred feet across in places.

So needless to say, it's pretty spectacular. We enjoyed every viewpoint, walking out a few hundred metres in places to look at the varying landscape. And that didn't satisfy us. Nope! We had to do a two mile hike at the end, a loop that dropped down quite a distance, then back up to the Visitor Center. Naturally, we chose to go clock-wise, and found the climb up at the end much steeper than it would have been had we gone the other way. But it was a fine hike, and left us tired but happy.

Next day we did a beautiful drive, the first part in canyon territory, the second in more open country. The colours for the canyon portion were beautiful. We took many photos, and hope we caught a bit of the flavor provided by golden patches of cottonwoods, mixed with aspens still fighting to keep their greens, and low-lying shrubs of rust. We crossed a pass that was nearly 9,000 feet up, and came to some areas where there used to be coal mining, as well as a town that used to be the center of coke production for the west. These coke ovens produced pure carbon for the production of steel, 159 of them in all, stretching along the highway as a reminder of a local industry that was so important in its time, but faded away as other methods were developed.

We ended the day by shopping in Carbondale, a lovely small city, and then went on to set up camp just outside of Glenwood Springs. Here is the largest hot pool in the world. Here there are multiple hot pools to ease your pain. Here there is a feature called the Hanging Lake. Here is the interstate that goes straight into Denver. Here we had a lovely late afternoon, surrounded by peaks, in a little hollow by the Colorado River, until 5:10, when the sun disappeared behind one of the mountains. But it remained pleasant until around 9, when the temps started to drop. By rising-up time this morning, the temp was zero. Sky a brilliant blue. September saw less than an inch of rain here. maybe less than a quarter of an inch. Not much rain at all, in other words.

Today, we headed into town to board a bus provided to get us to the Hanging Lake. As the name suggests, this lake is located way up a mountainside, just hanging there, it would seem. So it's a fascinating place to see, so much so that you have to have a reservation to do the hike (yes, it's a hike of over a mile almost straight up, the vertical rise over 1,000 feet). The bus got us there, and up we started. 75 minutes later we clambered up the last incline, walked along a lovely boardwalk, and had our breaths taken away. The lake is fed by a double waterfall, which creates the lake on a relatively flat shelf on the side of the mountain. The stream continues on down the mountain, providing the route up to the lake. It's not really a lake in our terms, more a pond, because the shelf is limited in size. But it's truly beautiful, the water a lovely green, a few fish swimming, and lovely vegetation surrounding it. I'll post a picture or two, but justice will not be done by my images.

We had lunch there, enjoying the view, then climbed further to see a spout, shooting out the torrent that produces the water falls. We had to be back to our bus by 2:00, and made it with 5 minutes to spare. The bus runs every 45 minutes, delivering people willing to take the challenge. Then home to do the laundry. See, it's not all fun and games. Mundane activities are part of the routine. Speaking of which, I have to go as it is my duty to lug the laundry home. I'll post some pictures another time. More later. Stay tuned.