The adventure mobile breaks down

My 2005 Saab 9-2x, now dubbed "Monica" by a few of friends here at YMCA of the Rockies Snow Mountain Ranch, is out sick with the flu.

 
That means my main method of transportation is absent for a while. Despite a solid, reliable drivetrain made by Subaru, my Saab 9-2x started to run into mechanical problems once the 125,000-mile mark passed over its odometer. Little things like burnt out dashboard lights and a wonky heated seat switch (which in freezing cold Colorado is necessary) were minor, but now unexpected bigger problems required a tow truck rescue. Not all cars are bulletproof. While I take immaculate and impeccable care of my adventure mobile, stuff still happens!

Per a crackly phone call with the mechanic, in this case my 14-year-old throttle body assembly was done for, likely what prohibited the wagon from moving anywhere once in gear. Super frustrating, yes. Repairable? Of course. When I moved to Granby, Colorado, I found a local repair shop to place my rust in: First Class Automotive. Become a valued, repetitive loyal customer and you'll be treated well. Very well. Well enough to be driven home from the repair shop in a new Cadillac Escalade they just so happened to have. Further diagnosis revealed the problem was a broken throttle actuator control module and continued to be a puzzle to fix. I've been without my wagon for more than a week now, but I at first drove it home after it was supposedly fixed...only to have it plagued again. It'll be back soon.

Cheers,
Robby

A December update

It's a frigid night.

 
The heat's on at Crooked Creek Bar and Saloon nestled in the hospitable Fraser Valley of Colorado. Dim lights illuminate a pool table, the beer is cheap, and buffalo wings aplenty. This is the off-site refuge for seasonal workers and ski bums. Rock and roll plays over the papery thin speakers in the ceiling above while snow continues to fall outside. We drink for hours, laugh, and try to solve the world's many problems. This is the icebox of the nation.

Cheers,
Robby

Burgers in Florissant

I'm on the road again in an exhausted Ford minivan.

This Friday, we're on our way to an ACA (American Camp Association) Conference to learn how to better the outdoor recreation programming we offer at the YMCA of The Rockies. Starving and needing a break from food at our go-to Commons community cafeteria, we paused for a late lunch at a gas station along U.S. Highway 6. Walking past a lifted yellow Jeep and opening the door, a woman in her late 50s accompanied by a scruffy chef cooked up $7 burgers, promising sweet potato fries, and mediocre milkshakes."We have to stretch the bun so we can fit the meat," I overheard the waitress joke to a regular. We sat four to a small square table. The burger was overpriced and tasty, what one would probably expect after not finding a grub stop after dozens of empty miles, I sat and watched the commotion. Disposing boxes was simply a method of chucking the out the drive-thru window and a corkboard near the trash can was littered with homemade posts alerting about missing dogs named Lula, Demon, and Gizmo.

Cheers,
Robby

Arapaho Bay at Golden Hour

I continue each day to have these "Pinch me, I must be living in a postcard" moments, living here up in the mountains of Colorado's Grand County.

Last week while skiing at Copper Mountain in Summit County, I was carving a bit, well, too aggressively and the DIN settings on my bindings were let's just set say...scary low. Making my way down the mountain, I hit a smaller bump to catch air and my right ski snapped off immediately once I lifted off. I crash-landed on to the hard snow, twisted on my right foot, felt a nasty pop, and slid on my back head-first. Thank, literally God I had a helmet on. Days later in writing this post, I can barely walk. I'm in a constant 10/10 level in surging pain which makes me think I must have torn something. I've got an appointment set up at a medical clinic in Steamboat Springs on the other side of Cottonwood Pass soon. With hiking, skiing, snowshoeing, and sadly rock climbing out of the picture until further notice, I'll resort to exploring Colorado via my beloved wagon.

I live near this massive gem called the Arapaho National Forest, which neighbors Rocky Mountain National Park. Within its boundaries is the Arapaho Bay, located in a far corner of Lake Granby. Above the clear cold water, the Indian Peaks range shows off some of its prominent rugged points like the Twin Peaks, Mt. Acoma, and the bordering Watanga and Hiamovi Mountains.

Before eating a 6pm family-style dinner at the YMCA of the Rockies I wanted to take a quick drive through it. I'm optimistically dreaming of returning here again once I'm back on two feet confidently. I reached the bay from highway 34 just as you're approaching the town of Grand Lake, pulling my black Saab 9-2x into the Arapaho National Recreation Area. I followed a 10-mile dirt road, covered in icy snow that winds along the lake past tall lodgepole pines and craggy exposed rock faces. The sunset's alpenglow colors were humbling. The views at sunset were simply jaw-dropping, enough to give me the chills. Again, this was a reminder to me that we are ridiculously lucky to live on such a beautiful planet like this.

Cheers,
Robby

Hiking Up Snow Mountain

After finally getting used to the altitude and thinner air, I explored some mountains!

I've been at YMCA of the Rockies Snow Mountain Ranch, my new home and place of work, for about a month now and felt as if it's time to explore more of the immediate property that sits in the Arapahoe National Forest. Nearby Snow Mountain, also called Sheep Mountain, has five distinguishable peaks offering stunning views of Rocky Mountain National Park off in the distance, the Fraser Valley area, and on the close horizon the Continental Divide and Berthoud Pass. I reached out to my friend Chris, who works in conference services, to meet me at the trailhead. 

Our local weather forecast for Granby, Colorado called for a thunderstorm with snow set to happen around five or six o'clock, so our timing was a bit crucial on this hike. The fairly faint trail rose steeper and our path was soon crossing over a fresh blanket of snow At our stopping point on top of simply named Peak 2, we were standing at about 10,336ft. Dark clouds crept across the neighboring ridges, causing temperatures to drop and the wind grow in strength. Better to play it safe, we headed down.

Next up on my goal list is probably to climb a 12-footer (12,000 ft) or 13-footer, perhaps even Berthoud Pass in the snow or Devil's Thumb. Woot, I'm excited! Also, my GoPro HD Hero captured a few great pictures.

Cheers,

Robby

West to Colorado: Visiting Rocky Mountain National Park with my Dad

Well, my dad and I finally arrived in Colorado late yesterday afternoon! 

Today decided we had to get out to Rocky Mountain National Park. For as long as I can remember, I've lusted about this national park. Being that this grand wilderness was only about a twenty-minute drive from my new home and workplace at YMCA of the Rockies Snow Mountain Ranch, today's trip would be the first of many. I can't wait to return and explore more and at some point, maybe even backpack.

Compared to dry Badlands National Park where my father and I had spent a few hours just three days ago, Rocky Mountain felt majestic. Our original aspirations were to drive the infamous Trail Ridge Road that connects the east and west sides of the park, winding through numerous peaks between 11,000 ft to a little shy of 13,000 ft. While the western terminus of the road began where we were, in Grand Lake, the road would eventually after some 48 miles take us east into Estes Park. But we faced a roadblock a few miles into the park, the road itself had been closed due to tons of snow in ice...in October! That was a new concept to me.

We walked around a little bit, breathing in this refreshing, cold mountainous air. It was the perfect father and son experience that I will cherish and treasure for years to come. Once I get settled, I'll be back here very often to explore. This is my big beautiful backyard now.

The next day, my father helped move me into the YMCA of The Rockies Snow Mountain Ranch's community housing, in almost a college dorm-like building called Blue Ridge. After that, we hopped back in my station wagon and drove back towards the Grand Lake area. We had planned to park at a trailhead and hike to Adams Falls. The waterfall plunges down some 55 feet into a deep rocky gorge. Following the East Inlet Trail, we were at close to 8,500 ft in elevation with explosive views of nearby Shadow Mountain, Grand Lake, and the distant Grand Valley. After checking out Adams Falls, my dad and I went and trekked further beyond the falls. We followed the feeder stream back into a quiet patch of woods where I felt this sensation of 100% tranquility. I could sit there all day, reflecting under the towering lodgepole pines.

There's just something magical about this place called Colorado.

Cheers,
Robby

West to Colorado: Wyoming is God's country

After driving through the dark night from South Dakota and eventually into Wyoming.

My dad and I called it a night at some roadside motel in Lusk, Wyoming. When we awoke the next morning, the motel manager informed us that storms with snow and heavy rain were approaching the area. After a brief and simple breakfast, strong winds and dark horizons approached. Rain started to hit as soon as we packed our overnight bags into the wagon. I stopped for gas to top-off before embarking back onto the interstate west, into the open land that was Wyoming proper. While filling up, a Niobrara County Sherriff's deputy pulled up in a muddy Dodge Ram pickup.

We soon passed through the town of Fort Laramie. Per our TomTom GPS, we had about six hours of driving lay ahead until we arrived in Granby, Colorado, our final destination. We'd head south down on I25, passing through Cheyenne before crossing the border into Colorado. Driving the "Adventure Mobile" through Wyoming was a treat. Rolling hills and endless fields were covered by moody blue skies, with an occasional tall rocky bluff poking upwards. This was, without a doubt, God's country.

Wyoming was a truly beautiful state. It got me even more excited to head west. It was so desolate too. There'd be times we'd go nearly 30 minutes without seeing another car or building along the highway. Another thing the "Equality State" had going for it, was its generous 80 mph speed limits on some interstates. Wisconsin's roads take a big step back with its miserable 65 mph posting.

In the late afternoon, we passed through Denver and were making our way up I70 into the mountains. Things started to feel more real. This next adventure and journey were starting. I was almost to my new home. As we approached the town of Empire and began our climb up Berthoud Pass, it started to pour rain, followed by transformation to snow. Berthoud Pass is a beast to drive, crossing over the Continental Divide near 12,000 ft then falling into Grand Valley, where Winter Park, Tabernash, Fraser, and Granby were. Thankfully, my Saabaru wagon had all wheel drive and it wasn't as treacherous as I had expected. Though being my first time driving the pass, it was a bit white-knuckled.

A minor snowstorm in October? Dreamy for sure, and a nice way to welcome us into Granby, Colorado, which sat at a steep 8,000 feet of elevation. The air was thin but I was too happy to notice. Almost 2,000 miles on the odometer and three days later, I set foot on my new home and place of employment, YMCA of the Rockies Snow Mountain Ranch. Let this new chapter begin. I'm so grateful my father shared this adventure out to Colorado with me.

Cheers,
Robby