Backcountry flowers beckon. (Click all images to enlarge.)
The 1947 Willys Jeep sits mothballed in our driveway, shrouded like a mourning monk in a Walmart econo grey car cover. Like being whipped in the face by a three-inch spruce limb, to deny the call of the “Rumble Bee” does sting. But after a long season of decadent frolic in snow castles from Canada to Austria, catching up on house repairs and building a storage shed at the WildSnow field office is our penance. We tick off items on the to-do list knowing that absolution will come when we are again free to play in frosted mountains. The chores consume day after summer day, until a special visitor arrives and we have our excuse to enter the peaceful realm of our beautiful backcountry.
Our son comes for a visit... excuse to resurrect the Willys and go for a ride.
Work before play -- Progeny helps out on the shed project.
Buzzin around in the Rumble Bee.
Wild raspberries are in season and we gorge like bears out of hibernation.
View of Marble Peak in the summer.
What grace have we to live in such a breathtaking place.
Fooling around on a spire chimney.
Rocks and lichen are as spectacular as the wild flowers.
Louie hears a thunk and we stop in time to remove this log before it breaks the emergency brake line. Good thing since the narrow road home is steep and treacherous. Lou says he built the 'Bee' for rock crawling, not 'log dragging.'
They say if you don't like the weather in Colorado, wait five minutes and it will change. Clouds rumble like Nascar racers threatening to overtake our little Jeep as we scoot back to town.
After a few minutes, the sun shines again.
Slow Groovin BBQ in Marble has become our favorite place to celebrate whatever event we can think of, in this case safely returning from a Jeep ride (our son's visit was celebrated the day before). Even though we have our favorites, we always try at least one new item. Deep fried okra gets gobbled up fast, as tasty as everything else on the menu. It's all good.