Big dirty thing in Colorado

Since our almost-5-year-old granddaughter visited us not long ago, I’ve gotten more and more curious about what to call a rather prominent area landmark. Most of us know it as Mt. Garfield, which was named for the president who was assassinated back in the day.

Farther back in the day? I don’t know what it was called. My searches have come up empty so far, but I did learn about two hiking trails that will lead me to the summit.

Image by Gary Eichin from Pixabay

No disrespect to President Garfield, may he RIP as one hopes he has done since 1881, but I would rather call it by whatever name indigenous people called the mountain.

In the meantime, I’m going to go with what my granddaughter called it: a Big Dirty Thing.

That will work for a while – maybe BDT, for short – even though we have quite a few other BDTs here in Mesa County.

If you know what that BDT was called way back when, please let me know.

B.J.

Dogs and old men on a Colorado trail

Red Dog Smith and I ventured out of the office late this morning for a walk down to the river. Mrs. Smith was out hiking with some friends after ignoring my sage advice to always have a pocket knife when hiking. Who doesn’t carry a pocket knife into the wild?

Red Dog on a Colorado trail.
Red Dog on a Colorado trail

Anyhow, the river isn’t far, and we got all the short way there without seeing another human being or another canine. We decided we are OK with having a trail completely to ourselves now and then.

On the way back, it got busy. We saw a total of three human beings – one walking his black Lab, two others going different directions on their bicycles.

To be more specific, we saw three elderly guys. All three had what some would call white hair, but I prefer to characterize as silver.

Sensing a pattern here?

Seeing three people in half an hour or so is what passes for busy in our rocky little chunk of Mesa County.

We also saw:

Two quick-footed lizards.

Butterflies.

Contrails criss-crossing the clear blue sky.

An enormous flat-topped mountain to the east of us.

On the way back, almost at the front door, I realized I have become some guy who writes about his lunch break now and then. I am OK with that. Red doesn’t seem to care.

Mesa County morning

If you had been out for a walk this morning before breakfast with me and Red Dog, we would have shown you this spot. It’s hard to capture with a smartphone, or with any other sort of camera for that matter, at least for this amateur photographer.

Marsh in the foreground with cliffs and bluffs in the distance, looking south from the Colorado Riverfront trail. The river is beyond the marsh, at the foot of the cliffs.
Mesa County morning

The cliffs above the Colorado River were mostly gray for the first few images I grabbed. I sorted through them for a few minutes as I sat on a bench and Red waited patiently. When I looked up, the sun had broken through some clouds to our left. I shot a few more.

We walked home, thinking about the people we will take to this place on the Colorado Riverfront Trail in just a few weeks. I’m not sure Red understands, but he seems happy enough with the idea. He wagged that tail he is so proud to show off.

New sense of place

The ancient mesa to the east is grand indeed.

The cliffs and canyons to the west are monumental.

Sandstone mountains to the north recall dusty memories of books on a shelf.

The river behind us drops slowly toward a sea it will never reach.

And we marvel at the fortune that brought us here.

And we open ourselves to whatever is next.

Bald eagle at Golden Ponds

My LP had been telling me for weeks that a bald eagle was hanging out a short walk from home.
Now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Shot 5/25/2020 with my Nikon Coolpix S6800.