In which Halloween becomes Winter and then Fall

Last week was a rough one for me, but the head cold is finally subsiding. I was grateful that the cleaning girl was ill on Thursday, since that was by far the worst day of the illness. On top of the cold, I was having a headache induced by forgetting my meds the day before. I usually spend Thursday mornings picking up clutter ahead of the house cleaning, but the headache had made that an untenable plan.

Part of that plan was to get all the Halloween stuff put away. It's four RubberMaid totes of decorations, and they pretty much spread all over the ground level of the house. Since Thursday was a bust, and Friday was a busy day at work the Halloween stuff was all still out. We'd pretty much eaten or thrown away the leftovers, but the Jack-o-Lanterns still remained on the front porch; the black cats and rats still sat in windows.

Nevertheless, we'd made plans for Saturday to go up into the mountains. I awoke at 8:00 on Saturday to the sounds of Mother getting ready to go out. Figuring that she'd be waiting on us, I tapped on her door and asked, "Are you getting ready to go to the mountains?" No, she had a vet appointment at 9:45, but we could leave as soon as she got back. Evan and Chris got up, we had breakfast and showers, and we packed for the trip. It was 11:15 before we left, with Evan established in his "nest" at the back of the minivan, snacks, drinks, and coats all within easy reach. We were making good time, but spent almost an hour stuck in a traffic jam on C-470, behind construction that had compressed three lanes to one. We planned to eat in Golden, and after some indecision, settled upon Taco Bell. It was 12:30.

We left Golden via US 6 toward Blackhawk. There are a lot of tunnels on that highway, which Evan likes a lot. We began to see snow on the north-facing slopes a few miles into the mountains. We turned north after Blackhawk on the Peak to Peak Scenic Byway. My objective was an overlook that we'd happened upon several years ago; I knew it was in Golden Gate Canyon Park. We turned in, paid our $5, and went a little way down the road in search of a map. The visitor center was open, so we made a rest stop, got the map, petted elk and beaver fur, and located Panorama Point on the map. Evan even posed with a bear. A stuffed bear.

There are at least four entrances to the Park, and Panorama Point is at the other entrance on C-119, to the north. If it was not winter, the connecting road inside the park would be open, but alas, the only access was off C-119. So, we turned back to Peak to Peak, drove north a few miles and then back east to the Point.

I think that Panorama Point is one of the best views in the state of Colorado. At above 9000 feet, you can see from Mount Evans in the south to Longs Peak in the north, and beyond. The view is remarkably unobstructed. Except on Saturday, when a snowstorm to the west kept the peaks shrouded in cloud and snow. The effect was not lost however, and Mother most assuredly wants to return in warmer - and clearer - weather.

The previous night's snowfall clung to the trees, and the winds kept the snow airborne in puffs that looked like clouds or smoke. Driving through a puff of snow was like driving through a little blizzard. The wind was strong enough to buffet the car, and the windchill up at Panorama Point was certainly below zero - the car's temperature read at 21 degrees. We had winter parkas and hats, and everyone but Mother had neglected to bring gloves, so our stay up there was brief.

We returned to C-119, headed for Rollins. Chris had suggested driving west from Rollins toward the East Portal of the Moffat Tunnel, and we agreed. We've been through there a number of times, but always on the train, so this was a completley different perspective. We drove into the storm, and although the road icy, it was flat, and so was pretty easy-going.

Until the second time we had to cross the railroad grade. The tires refused to "bite", and we made very slow progress across the tracks, and then none at all after finally getting off the tracks. The uphill was just too steep for the minivan with fair-weather tires. Worse, there was not enough un-plowed width to turn around, and there was traffic - two cars passed us going east, and one nearly hit us coming around the blind corner too fast going west.

The second of the east-bound vehicles managed to get his right tires in the ditch, which took some work to get out. His was a green four-wheel-drive vehicle, and so he was in better shape than we were. I had gotten out of the minivan to give Chris some direction, and the driver of the green 4WD had gotten out of the ditch, and was heading toward us to help, when Chris did a Y-turn and got the car headed downhill. New tires are definitely in the plan.

We got back to C-119 without further incident. Got some good pictures of passing freight trains, but our timing put us between Amtrak's 5 and 6 trains, and between the morning and evening runs of the Ski Train. The drive was beautiful and I'd like to do it again, next time with chains.

Heading north on C-119, we took a sharp right turn on C-72 toward Pinecliff, and found ourselves along the rail line again. Familiar landmarks kept appearing, ones that we'd seen from the train, of course. I couldn't figure out where the highway would emerge from the mountains, and didn't have a map. Suddenly, everything became clear - this was Coal Creek Canyon, the highway that the rail line crosses just before entering the Tunnel District and South Boulder Creek Canyon. As we headed south on C-93, we watched a freight train making it's slow way up the double-"S" Big Ten Curves.

Since we'd headed home at dusk, we were back at the house early after dining at Mimi's in Golden. We'd decided that we could pack up Halloween in the evening, and so spent an hour on that project. In turn, I opened the "fall" tote, and we put out the decorations for fall and Thanksgiving. The Halloween village has become pumpkins and candles; the candles on the credenza remain, but the tablecloth has been changed to fall leaf napkins.

Only the Jack-o-Lanterns reamined on the front porch. I always purchase pumpkins with the intended end use being to enrich the compost pile. But this year, the RubberMaid composter is full. Although the new iris bed used quite a bit of the ready compost, it also had a lot of turf to be removed, and the grass was pretty long at that. I thought that this would be a good "green" layer, and would break down pretty quickly, but there's been very little compaction. Certainly not enough for the dozen pumpkins that came home with us from Longmont. The composter hasn't been up to our needs for some time, and this seemed as good a time as any to build a new one.

Sunday found us on the back porch sawing, screwing and - after a trip to the Big Tool Box - stapling chicken wire to the frame. We have a new 32 cubic foot compost bin placed between the fence and the ditch to the south of the yard. By the end of Sunday it was half-full of fall yard cleanup. Chris raked the front yard, and I picked up all the dirt clods that wouldn't fit in the composter last spring. Chris cut down the tomato plants, and the sunflowers, and raked up the most recent crop of pulled thistles. The pumpkins and all the innards that didn't fit in the RubberMaid were added, and some kitchen garbage from Sunday's cooking. All we need now is a good layer of grass clippings and another leaf fall, and we're in business.

There's more fall yard work to do - cleaning up this and that, and planting bulbs. But that was a good start for the fall. But I have to admit that Saturday's snowy drive has me thinking about Christmas.