Battle lines bein' drawn?

We had a cloudy cold front blow in some days ago and I was amazed by the look of the sky. Fortunately I was on my way to work for at least some of the drama, and not inside somewhere looking at a computer screen instead.

This was my first glimpse, while still on the road, heading west:

Doesn't it look like two armies lined up for a showdown?

looking southwest from the St. Mary's S parking lot

If they were armies, one certainly looks more disciplined than the other...

looking back east, from the flagpole in front of St. Louis Hall

As it turned out, there wasn't much of a battle, as we didn't even get much rain from the front. But what a show!

my last view before heading into the library, again looking east

Wordless Wednesday: dress code

Castle in the sky

¿Donde está mi hijo?

Considering his world traveler reputation, if you were just to look at this photo and try to guess where he was perched, you'd probably think somewhere in eastern Europe, or perhaps Patagonia.

But, no, it was right here in the US of A, and in Colorado, no less!

He had climbed to one of the topmost turrets in Bishop Castle, a fantastic, eccentric, and beautiful little oddity that we stumbled upon when we missed a turn off IH-25. (And if you were wondering where the "Fantasy Staircase" in my last Wordless Wednesday post was shot, you now have your answer!)

This is the castle entire, as seen from the road (CO 165):

I misread the map and instead of taking CO 69 west from Walsenburg, we went on up the interstate a ways and exited at Colorado City. The unexpected route turned out to be a lovely drive, and gave us the surrealistic experience of the Castle. Who says serendipity is dead in the 21st century?

The Castle is a one-man, never-ending project, and we actually met Mr. Bishop himself, sawing boards for new walkways right there on site. A very interesting fellow, as you can imagine. (You can learn more about the history of the castle, as well as see links to some of his legal challenges, by following the link to Wikipedia above.)

We almost couldn't get enough of exploring the lovely (and very solidly-made) wrought-iron staircases, stone passageways, and surprising spaces of the Castle. In summer, there are no doubt more visitors to this free attraction (we did leave a generous donation). But in chilly, snowy January, we had the place to ourselves.

It's had some more famous visitors, too, as Hal saw a place where NatGeo folks had left their mark. And we wondered if perhaps there have been some weddings in this amazing cathedral-like central hall, adorned with donated art works:

Here are a couple of views from two of the Castle's numerous tower windows:

looking into the snowy woods

the highway and the Castle gift shop

These overlooks are definitely not for the acrophobic, as they often have no railings, but the views are magnificent. At least, Hal said the panorama he got from the very top (the picture at the top of the post) was really amazing. He was the only one brave enough to take the delicate-seeming wrought-iron bridges over to that turret.

Here's how these fairy walkways look from the relative safety of the main castle, where I took this picture:
And here's another shot of the whole castle, along with its dragon bowsprit ornamentation. Very fitting for this bit of fantasy fallen to Earth and hidden away in the eastern Rockies.

Remember not to get too mad at yourself the next time you take a wrong turn. Who knows what you might find along that different path?

Wordless Wednesday: fantasy staircase

Skiing with kids

I was reminded of this frequently during my three days of skiing in Colorado: It's a lot easier to have adult kids than the little variety!

Sure, the little ones are awfully cute on their little skis (and, increasingly, little snowboards). We saw lots of them on the slopes, being urged by doting parents to "make your pizzas!" [not as nonsensical it is sounds; this refers to making the v-shape with your skis to slow down] As well as being towed by parents over the flats when their tiny masses can't make up enough speed to get to the next slope. And being hauled back to their feet, occasionally sobbing, after a fall. And being shepherded into the lift lines, not to mention onto the lifts and off again.

Whew! It was a lot of work! While I just had to worry about whether I could keep up with mine or not, and when to meet for lunch. (See Carey and Hal above on the right, in the Monarch Mountain "Sidewinder" bar where we relaxed and refueled each midday.)

I've done my share of the hard work described above, since both of our kids are Monarch veterans going back to their tiny tot days. Here's Hal at age 5 or 6, next to his favorite run, Lower Christmas Tree (unfortunately no longer around as it was taken over by a snowboard terrain park) and Sally, perhaps a little younger, waving to the camera on another Monarch slope:



Now they both prefer boarding to skiing, as does Carey, and rather than making more work for me on the slopes, they're more likely to help me out if I need assistance.

Moreover, Hal & Carey have become such accomplished boarders that we can't really stay together much. They like harder runs and go down everything much faster than I do. But, fortunately for me, Sally's not in their class yet, and so makes a great partner for me. That's why I have more pictures of her than them in the collection below. I hope you enjoy the kids and the scenery in this little collection:

Hal & Carey (closest to the camera) zipping down a green [ie, slumming] with us

Sally taking the same run at a more moderate pace

Carey & Hal coming off the Garfield lift

Sally takes a little break on Great Divide—aptly named and a favorite photo spot

...and again, on a sunny afternoon in the trees

...and yet again, on the quad Pioneer lift
[she didn't really take breaks all the time; it's just easier to take pictures of someone at rest than someone sliding down the mountain, when you're trying not to slide down it yourself]

Hal & Carey behind us on the Panorama lift our snowy last day
(still plenty of skiers—note the cars in the parking lot in the background)

Sally and I took pictures of each other that last day, too, at the top of Ray's Romp, one of our favorite runs. What a lucky mom I am to have such great kids and to get to spend time enjoying the mountains with them!

me at the top of Romp

Sally strikes a pose before heading down Romp

Natural flocking

What could be more scenic than being surrounded by sparkling snow, painfully blue sky, and hundreds and hundreds of pre-flocked Christmas trees!?

That's where we found ourselves a week ago, at the Monarch Mountain Ski Area in central Colorado. The snow, as it often is here, was absolutely perfect: packed powder on the two days we had the aforementioned blue skies, and 3 or 4 inches of new powder the last day.

As a certified tree-hugger, I was most impressed, visually, with the wonderfully variable combinations of snow on boughs. Although the surrounding scenery isn't too shabby, either, as you can see here, on this shot looking west from the Continental Divide (at the top of the Panorama—so aptly-named—lift):

Aren't the tops of the trees just over the crest cute with their little snow hats?

Here are some more examples of perfectly-flocked trees, looking much better in their native habitat than in someone's living room.

The aforementioned Panorama lift pulls you up the mountain in this wonderful little alley between the snowiest trees

another look at trees from Panorama lift

and another look from the Divide up top

field of trees as you come down from the Divide

Even on the cloudy, snowy day, the trees still cut handsome figures:


And I'll close with another look west from the Divide's fantastic vantage point. What a magical place this is!

the rounded hill on the far right is the Tomichi Dome, and in the distance you can see the San Juans—200 miles away!

In the next few posts I'll give you more pictures and details about skiing and the rest of our fun trip.

Faux snow

Very rarely in winter do we have cold enough temperatures on a sustained enough basis to allow us to do something like this:


But a couple of days ago some enterprising students took a look at the week's forecast and thought it might work. Which it has! This "snow field" was at least a day old when I took this picture. We've had several days in a row with highs only in the 30's. Very unusual for South Texas.

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Stay tuned for pictures and tales from my close encounters with the real white stuff over the next week or so.

Wordless Wednesday: winter wonderland

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New Year on the river

I partook in one of our paddling group's traditions for the first time yesterday—a New Year's Day float on the lower Guadalupe.

It was pretty nippy: high temperature in the city was forecast for the mid-60's. On the river I'm sure it wasn't quite that high, and there was a breeze. But fortunately Henry has given me presents of cold-weather gear, over the past year or so, sufficient to keep me toasty and dry.

The experience of the lower Guad is a different animal than our usual haunts on the upper. Although the river itself is very similar, the landscape on either side is almost suburban. It was kind of fun to see the different styles of house, many of which were much larger and nicer than I was expecting (and than we used to see along this stretch when we used to canoe it as 20-somethings). An example is on the left.

And the reason we can't paddle this stretch in warmer weather is that it's usually wall-to-wall tubes and (mostly) drunk toobers. But we generally prefer the more natural scenery along the less-developed stretched above Canyon Lake anyway.

However, in the winter you have the water to yourself. And in spite of the chill breeze, the weather was fine.


And there was "winter-clear" water...


... neat trees ...

... wildlife ...


... and scenery ...

Not to mention a couple of interesting rapids. Here's a short video of Henry going over Horseshoe Falls, where a few of our party went swimming. He managed it just fine, but was very glad to have brought along his kayak skirt. I declined to run it altogether, along with most of our group, opting for a rocky portage instead.

We finished off our practically perfect New Year's celebration stuffing ourselves at the Gristmill in picturesque Gruene, near New Braunfels. (The picture on the right was taken as we walked to our car after the dinner. Isn't that a wonderful, and wonderfully-decorated, old house!? The town's name is variously pronounced "Green" and "Grune" around here, as the actual German Ü is pretty hard for Texan tongues to manage.)

Ahhh! Fried catfish and mashed potatoes! Can't beat it! The only thing that would have made it better would be sitting at a table in the room with the fire, but the place was surprisingly busy for a winter afternoon:

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I apologize in advance for a blogging hiatus over the next week or so. I'm leaving Wednesday for a short ski vacation with my kids, and have tentatively decided to leave the laptop at home. Hopefully I'll return with some great snowy Rockies photos and some good stories.

Happy New Year to all!