My last few blog entries have been a bit on the negative side, detailing the some-times ugly attributes of people who enter into our life because of the ‘OPEN’ sign we have on our front door. For this I apologize, as the original intent of this blog wasn’t to make it into a wordier version of Facebook – (“I’m really bored right now. Think I’ll take a quiz to see what 1960’s cartoon character I’d most likely smell like after a run in the woods...”) The intent of the blog was to chronicle the unique aspects of our lives as they played out doing an unusual job in a small town while living in a historic building on a magnificent river. Instead, I’ve fallen prey to bitching about the 2% of life’s bastards who have turned this dream into a sometimes nightmare. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.
As recompense for my recent caustic digressions, I’d like to take this opportunity to laud the other 98% of the human race, who are our reason for giving up safety and security so that we may experience, share and enjoy the glory of their being. We did this because we love people and we derive great satisfaction in interacting with them and making them happy. In fact, Julie has given her life to making children with special needs productive, whole and happy, and some gutless, anonymous son of a bitch referred to her as “two-faced” in another vicious on-line review. Whoops! Sorry, said I wasn’t going to go there anymore; last time.
It was June 29th, 2008, and we had lived full-time at The Riverside for only two days. It was late in the afternoon, and the hotel was almost booked full. We were making last minute preparations for the evening dinner crowd, when I noticed two young men trying to get a very large, full-body wheelchair into our west hotel/restaurant entrance. As the hotel was built a few years before the ADA, it unfortunately isn’t up to code regarding accessibility. I went to see what could be done about helping them get the wheelchair into the building; it was at this point that I took the time to notice the inhabitant of the chair. He was an elderly gentleman, I’d say he was in his early 80’s, and he looked very much like my father looked shortly before my father died. He was unable to communicate verbally, barely nodding ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to queries from his grandsons. He also appeared to be paralyzed from the neck down – no sign of movement from his torso or limbs. I immediately gained respect for these young men, who upon first glance I’d judged as hoodlums from their tattoos, piercings and the goofy, oversized clown-like baseball caps sitting askance on their skulls; (bear with me; I’m an old fart.) They were in fact the epitome of love, tenderness and human kindness in the way that they cared for their grandfather – and care it took, as getting the chair from one cranny through the next would have tried to patience of most. In followed the boy's grandmother, who told me that she and her husband spent their wedding night at The Riverside in 1952, and that her husband “didn’t have too much time left, and they wanted to see the place one more time”. She took me upstairs – the husband stayed downstairs as ascending the narrow stairways were impossible, even with the help of the resolute grandsons – and showed me the room, ‘Elizabeth’, where they spent their first night as newlyweds. She paused and bowed at the door for a minute, reverentially, and without speaking, went back down the stairs to be with her husband. She gently took his hand and told him that she'd found the room, and it was much as she'd remembered; there was the faintest attempt at a smile from the old lion. I was dumbfounded, speechless, and choked up to the point of not even being able to communicate with this family. In fact, I can’t retell this story to people without tears welling in my eyes and my throat constricting, as I have burned in my memory the eager, helpless, dying face of the man who was trying in that instant, through strained eyes, to suck in and relive one of his life’s greatest memories.
I thought we bought a hotel and restaurant. It was at this point that I finally realized that we bought much more than a business; we are the stewards of this magnificent building and the memories of thousands of unknown people and their stories. How many weddings, receptions and honeymoon nights, how many births and deaths, how many Christmas mornings and Thanksgiving turkeys, how much heartache and how much joy? What an awesome responsibility it is to be caretaker to such a magnificent old girl as The Riverside. My thanks to this beautiful couple, whose names I didn’t even have the where-with-all to learn. I followed them out the door, watching as the grandsons delivered their charge into the van with the delicate skill and loving care of surgeons; goofy hats still askance on their skulls.
It didn’t take but two days of living at The Riverside for me to understand why we did this; not for the bastards, but for the other 98% of the human race.
To be continued………
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
"Yuck! Clean it up!"
The words harpooned me, taking not only my breath away, but every semblance of dignity and self worth in our self-perceived successful undertaking of running The Riverside.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
As we have a limited – and often times non-existent – advertising budget, our life-blood for procurement of new customers to the hotel and restaurant is largely based upon good ‘word of mouth’. We rely on the residual effect of our hard work and exceptional efforts in providing a positive experience for bringing in new customers from the recommendations and kind words of current and regular customers. We’re not unique in this matter – all businesses, especially ‘moms & pops’, thrive on good word of mouth, or die with the opposite. And now with the internet - I was skeptical at first, but I’ll now boldly predict that it is here to stay – good or bad word of mouth is out there for millions to see at the click of one of those linkey things.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
As of this writing, guests to The Riverside have posted 30 reviews on various sites – Google, Yahoo, CitySearch, Tripadvisor (http://www.tripadvisor.com/Search?q=Riverside+Hotel%2C+Hot+Sulphur+Springs%2C+CO&sub-search.x=7&sub-search.y=12) and B&B.com, and I’m overwhelmed at the kind, encouraging and generous words, many from strangers and guests that I’m sorry to say I can’t remember. Of the 30 reviews, 23 have given us the highest five star rating and 6 have given a four star rating; quick math tells you that one rating and review remains.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
Reviews #1 through #29 have titles such as “Incredible Find!” “Our best stay to date in Hot Sulphur” “A wonderful lifetime memory” “A rare gem”; and then there’s review #30 - “Yuck! Clean it up!”
Here’s what our friendly reviewer had to say about our hotel:
“What might have been a nice hotel in a convenient spot was ruined by two things: absolutely filthy and smelly 50+ year-old carpeting throughout and grimy, outdated and frankly frightening bathrooms. The folks running the place seem nice enough but, sorry folks, good intentions don't cut it when paying guests expect a clean environment. However much it might have cost to clean up and update this old building, it should have been done before opening up the hotel for business. Whatever the other hardships there may be in converting a ramshackle old clap-trap building into a hotel, there is absolutely NO excuse for not cleaning the bathrooms, miserable though they may be. Beware of this place if you value cleanliness and charm - you won't find either here and this frightful relic just may turn your stomach.”
Oh my God! Who said this about our hotel? The name on the review was ‘Pdoo’, from Chicago. IL, and they stayed in the hotel in May. I didn’t remember anyone saying that the bathrooms were frightening or filthy – most normal people who would be put off enough by dirty bathrooms or carpet to take the time to write such a devastatingly horrible review – no, make such a personal attack - wouldn’t hesitate to make mention of it during their stay. I’ll take this one step further – anyone who would be such a heartless, malicious asshole as to write something so mean spirited, would generally have the balls (read "have the balls" as also having a general lack of social skills) to personally confront you right there on the spot. “Hey buddy, your bathroom is filthy – Yuck! Clean it up!”
I immediately start going through guest registers, looking for someone from Chicago who stayed at the hotel in May. Wait a minute. We were closed in May, opening for two family reunions on May 25th – one family from Denver, the other from New York. Lovely people all of them – totally satisfied with their experience, with nothing even resembling a complaint from any of them. Further investigation into the other four rooms we rented the last week in May have no one from anywhere other than the Front Range – no one from Chicago or even any point east of Denver. So I’m thinking, “Could this person have us confused with another hotel?” “Could this be a competitor, or perhaps a disgruntled ex-employee?”
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
The other part of me wanted to dismiss this as I try to dismiss the previously mentioned bastards in our restaurant; someone whose standards for acceptance aren’t founded in the real world, and are therefore never met by anyone in this world. But I couldn’t put it away, as the more I thought about it, the more I came to the realization that this wasn’t a legitimate review by a Riverside customer, rather, this was written by someone close to us. But for what purpose; to get me to clean the downstairs men’s room more than once a month? Or was the review meant to personally injure us, demean our efforts and “good intentions” and ultimately hurt and devalue the hotel?
Fortunately, the good folks at TripAdvisor take this sort of thing seriously; the legitimacy of their site isn’t worth a hoot if anyone can say anything, anytime without basis or foundation. They also tell me that it can even be classified as libel in a court of law, when proved to be a false and malicious published statement intended to damage someone’s reputation – we won’t have any trouble proving the published part. So they’re going to get to the bottom of it for us, and I’m both anxious and a little scared to find out who the bastard might be.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
To be continued……..
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
As we have a limited – and often times non-existent – advertising budget, our life-blood for procurement of new customers to the hotel and restaurant is largely based upon good ‘word of mouth’. We rely on the residual effect of our hard work and exceptional efforts in providing a positive experience for bringing in new customers from the recommendations and kind words of current and regular customers. We’re not unique in this matter – all businesses, especially ‘moms & pops’, thrive on good word of mouth, or die with the opposite. And now with the internet - I was skeptical at first, but I’ll now boldly predict that it is here to stay – good or bad word of mouth is out there for millions to see at the click of one of those linkey things.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
As of this writing, guests to The Riverside have posted 30 reviews on various sites – Google, Yahoo, CitySearch, Tripadvisor (http://www.tripadvisor.com/Search?q=Riverside+Hotel%2C+Hot+Sulphur+Springs%2C+CO&sub-search.x=7&sub-search.y=12) and B&B.com, and I’m overwhelmed at the kind, encouraging and generous words, many from strangers and guests that I’m sorry to say I can’t remember. Of the 30 reviews, 23 have given us the highest five star rating and 6 have given a four star rating; quick math tells you that one rating and review remains.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
Reviews #1 through #29 have titles such as “Incredible Find!” “Our best stay to date in Hot Sulphur” “A wonderful lifetime memory” “A rare gem”; and then there’s review #30 - “Yuck! Clean it up!”
Here’s what our friendly reviewer had to say about our hotel:
“What might have been a nice hotel in a convenient spot was ruined by two things: absolutely filthy and smelly 50+ year-old carpeting throughout and grimy, outdated and frankly frightening bathrooms. The folks running the place seem nice enough but, sorry folks, good intentions don't cut it when paying guests expect a clean environment. However much it might have cost to clean up and update this old building, it should have been done before opening up the hotel for business. Whatever the other hardships there may be in converting a ramshackle old clap-trap building into a hotel, there is absolutely NO excuse for not cleaning the bathrooms, miserable though they may be. Beware of this place if you value cleanliness and charm - you won't find either here and this frightful relic just may turn your stomach.”
Oh my God! Who said this about our hotel? The name on the review was ‘Pdoo’, from Chicago. IL, and they stayed in the hotel in May. I didn’t remember anyone saying that the bathrooms were frightening or filthy – most normal people who would be put off enough by dirty bathrooms or carpet to take the time to write such a devastatingly horrible review – no, make such a personal attack - wouldn’t hesitate to make mention of it during their stay. I’ll take this one step further – anyone who would be such a heartless, malicious asshole as to write something so mean spirited, would generally have the balls (read "have the balls" as also having a general lack of social skills) to personally confront you right there on the spot. “Hey buddy, your bathroom is filthy – Yuck! Clean it up!”
I immediately start going through guest registers, looking for someone from Chicago who stayed at the hotel in May. Wait a minute. We were closed in May, opening for two family reunions on May 25th – one family from Denver, the other from New York. Lovely people all of them – totally satisfied with their experience, with nothing even resembling a complaint from any of them. Further investigation into the other four rooms we rented the last week in May have no one from anywhere other than the Front Range – no one from Chicago or even any point east of Denver. So I’m thinking, “Could this person have us confused with another hotel?” “Could this be a competitor, or perhaps a disgruntled ex-employee?”
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
The other part of me wanted to dismiss this as I try to dismiss the previously mentioned bastards in our restaurant; someone whose standards for acceptance aren’t founded in the real world, and are therefore never met by anyone in this world. But I couldn’t put it away, as the more I thought about it, the more I came to the realization that this wasn’t a legitimate review by a Riverside customer, rather, this was written by someone close to us. But for what purpose; to get me to clean the downstairs men’s room more than once a month? Or was the review meant to personally injure us, demean our efforts and “good intentions” and ultimately hurt and devalue the hotel?
Fortunately, the good folks at TripAdvisor take this sort of thing seriously; the legitimacy of their site isn’t worth a hoot if anyone can say anything, anytime without basis or foundation. They also tell me that it can even be classified as libel in a court of law, when proved to be a false and malicious published statement intended to damage someone’s reputation – we won’t have any trouble proving the published part. So they’re going to get to the bottom of it for us, and I’m both anxious and a little scared to find out who the bastard might be.
“Yuck! Clean it up!”
To be continued……..
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Four Seasons of Grand County
I’m assuming that anyone who reads this Blog lives in a typical, human-friendly environment that has four seasons. You live by those seasons, as they control and define your temperaments, your wardrobes, your activities, and certainly your ESPN schedule – they are the clock that controls your life. Atypical environments – Antarctica, Greenland, Iceland, Siberia, The Moon, and Columbia, Mo – don’t have four seasons; they might have two, maybe three, and that makes them uninhabitable by mortals who demand the normalcy of an acceptable human existence. (OK, I’m kidding about Columbia, MO having less than four seasons.)
I’ve never lived in Columbia, Mo, and I no longer live in Shawnee, Ks – I now reside in Hot Sulphur Springs, a town so small that unless you had to pee really badly or were in desperate need of a bag of chips and a tank of gas, you wouldn’t remember that you drove through it on your way from here to anywhere. But this is Grand County, Co, and we still have four seasons! They are as follows:
- Pre Winter
- Kick your ass, freeze your butt, bury you with snow, make the power company rich, kick your ass again, Oh God I’m cold!, How many more years before summer?, I can’t even begin to feel my ass anymore Winter
- Post Winter
- Spr-ummer-fall
We’ll start with Pre-winter, which generally begins sometime in late July or early August. I know you’re thinking that in most parts of the US, late July or early August are generally the beginning of the ‘dog days’ of summer. In northeastern Kansas, the dog days meant a continual stream of 90+ degree days with little or no precipitation; the green and lush bluegrass lawn that you worked so hard to attain in the spring has turned into a dormant, dusty brown plot with a few strands of nut grass popping up here and there. You sit on the back deck in the evening in a dry heat, listening to the cicadas do there thing amongst the drying leaves of the moisture-starved hardwoods. It drags on to the point where you’re not only ready for a cold snap, you’re praying for it. Not so in Grand County – Pre-Winter is that little reality check that dumps two feet of snow on August 9th in the higher elevations, shutting down Trail Ridge Road (the pass that joins the western part of Rocky Mountain National Park to the east and Estes Park), if only for a day. Pre-Winter is the season that this July 29th dumped a couple of inches of slushy snow/hail on the tourists in Grand Lake, who the day before were sunbathing on the beach. Pre-Winter is Grand County’s reminder that no matter how nice it is today, a climactic Armageddon is always – and with utmost certainty - right around the corner. Pre-Winter can last as long as two months, sometimes even stretching into October, offering some of the most beautiful weather to be had anywhere in the world. You’ll have days with highs in the upper- 60’s to low 70’s, with the golden aspens set against a sky so brilliantly blue that it leaves you challenged for adjectives. Just don’t ever plan an outdoor wedding during Pre-winter, as that 70-degree, azure day can turn into Santa Land in a matter of hours.
The next and most dominant of the Grand County seasons is real winter, not to be remotely mistaken with anything that the rest of the country refers to as winter. As I mentioned earlier, this is ‘Kick your ass, freeze your butt, blah, blah, blah winter’. Your typical winter in Grand County generally lasts anywhere from 9 to 14 months. Daytime highs of -10F are common for most of December & January. February is usually a lot colder. There was a night when I went outside to smoke a cigar and the nighttime air being sucked through the business end of the cigar froze up the moisture from my breath in the discharge end of the cigar. I wasn’t out too long that evening. It is literally too cold to snow, as the flakes are so frozen and the air so dry that the snow falls like the finest ash you’ve ever encountered; you can effortlessly sweep a 3-4 inch snowfall from your front walk with a kitchen broom. However, it does accumulate, and by the end of February, you’ll typically have anywhere from 4-8 feet of it piled high on your northern exposure areas, i.e., the back of the house and roof-areas that don’t see the low-slung southern-sky sun for a few months. In fairness, it’s not always below zero in February – occasionally you’ll get a little tropical warm-up, say into the low 20’s, which then brings some moisture that translates into a damp-snow blizzard that limits visibility in a car to the inside front of your windshield. Getting caught in one of these – I have several times – is what made St. Christopher get out of the transportation business.
There are a few plus sides to real winter in Grand County. You have some of the best skiing to be had anywhere in the world. You can also ski in the winter, with some terrific powder and wonderful slopes. And then there’s the skiing! Moguls, side-slipping, stemming, traversing, cliff-hucking – woo baby, I can’t get enough of it. Not really. I tried to ski once, and took my skis off halfway down the bunny slope, never again to attempt a double-reverse traversing cliff-huck. So while the winter in Grand County offers some pretty good skiing, if you don’t ski, you’re pretty much you-know-what for something else to do. I guess one final plus of a Grand County winter for me is that the brutally cold climate is not conducive to the growth of the large, poisonous tarantulas typically found in tropical climates. I thank God every day for that fact, as I’m scared to death of big tarantulas. I’m always thinking to myself, “If I lived in an Amazonian rain forest, I’d be all the time dealing with big, hairy spiders. Here in Grand County, with 9 months of snow and sub-freezing temperatures, that isn’t an issue.”
Real winter is followed by post-winter, also known locally as ‘mud season’. Ahhh, Mud Season; how idyllic is that? Here’s a free slogan for the local Chamber – “Come Celebrate Mud Season in Beautiful Hot Sulphur!” Mud season is always welcomed by the locals, as it is the harbinger of better times ahead. The days are slowly getting longer and steadily getting warmer, the temperatures now starting to crack that 32-degree freeze-line with regularity – at least in the late afternoon, on sunny days. Those dry powdery snowfalls of real winter are replaced by heavy, wet, blinding snowstorms – but they melt quickly, especially when the daytime highs are in the low 40s and the torrential rains help to knock the winter snow accumulations into the swollen streams and rivers. And the end result of this glacial cleansing is, well, mud; on the roads, in the yards, the parks, the trails, the parking lots, the carpets and floors, and especially on Lucy’s’ underbelly and paws. Many of the locals, especially those involved in the seasonal hospitality and food and beverage industries, pack up and head out of town to warmer, sunnier, cleaner climes – that would be anywhere other than Grand County, CO.
The final season, though the shortest of the four, is the reason why 19,000 people put up with the other three seasons to reside in this county. Spr-ummer-fall essentially takes the best aspects of spring, summer and fall and rolls them into one languid, lush and beautiful 6-8 week season. At the onset of Spr-ummer-fall, the river thaws and gushes forth, the mountain meadows become lush with grass, sage and wildflowers, and the days end in a bask of alpenglow. This one-two week season is followed by a mountain summer – warm, dry days and cool starlit nights – where the sky is bluer and the stars are brighter than any you’ve ever seen or could imagine. The afternoon heat is often punctuated by a brief blast from Mother Nature, bringing oft needed moisture and relief to the arid valley. Only occasionally do the storms last into the evening, and even less do they bring summer snow. The final weeks of Spr-ummer-fall bring the golden aspens – a sight that makes the orange and red of Midwestern oaks, maples and hickories pale in comparison. If the color gold can ever look ablaze, it is in these aspens as they rest against the backdrop of the foot hills and peaks of the Rockies. One of the most spectacular sights one can ever behold is seen from the top of Ute Pass, a 20+ mile drive from the Riverside, where the spectacle of the Gore Range and the Blue River Valley is laid out before you in a panorama that has to be witnessed – it can’t be described. It is mountains that look like they were drawn by children, with sheer faces and exaggerated jagged peaks; throw in the golden explosion of the aspens, and you’ll find it hard to get back in your car and leave the view behind.
The four seasons of Grand County are truly a dichotomy – nature at its cruelest and most malevolent at one turn, and glorious and magnanimous at the other. It is as exhilarating to witness the brutality of the winter as it is to revel in the gentleness of summer. But forgive me my abruptness in ending this chapter of life in the mountains; I must now put aside my musings, as it is starting to rain tarantulas.
I’ve never lived in Columbia, Mo, and I no longer live in Shawnee, Ks – I now reside in Hot Sulphur Springs, a town so small that unless you had to pee really badly or were in desperate need of a bag of chips and a tank of gas, you wouldn’t remember that you drove through it on your way from here to anywhere. But this is Grand County, Co, and we still have four seasons! They are as follows:
- Pre Winter
- Kick your ass, freeze your butt, bury you with snow, make the power company rich, kick your ass again, Oh God I’m cold!, How many more years before summer?, I can’t even begin to feel my ass anymore Winter
- Post Winter
- Spr-ummer-fall
We’ll start with Pre-winter, which generally begins sometime in late July or early August. I know you’re thinking that in most parts of the US, late July or early August are generally the beginning of the ‘dog days’ of summer. In northeastern Kansas, the dog days meant a continual stream of 90+ degree days with little or no precipitation; the green and lush bluegrass lawn that you worked so hard to attain in the spring has turned into a dormant, dusty brown plot with a few strands of nut grass popping up here and there. You sit on the back deck in the evening in a dry heat, listening to the cicadas do there thing amongst the drying leaves of the moisture-starved hardwoods. It drags on to the point where you’re not only ready for a cold snap, you’re praying for it. Not so in Grand County – Pre-Winter is that little reality check that dumps two feet of snow on August 9th in the higher elevations, shutting down Trail Ridge Road (the pass that joins the western part of Rocky Mountain National Park to the east and Estes Park), if only for a day. Pre-Winter is the season that this July 29th dumped a couple of inches of slushy snow/hail on the tourists in Grand Lake, who the day before were sunbathing on the beach. Pre-Winter is Grand County’s reminder that no matter how nice it is today, a climactic Armageddon is always – and with utmost certainty - right around the corner. Pre-Winter can last as long as two months, sometimes even stretching into October, offering some of the most beautiful weather to be had anywhere in the world. You’ll have days with highs in the upper- 60’s to low 70’s, with the golden aspens set against a sky so brilliantly blue that it leaves you challenged for adjectives. Just don’t ever plan an outdoor wedding during Pre-winter, as that 70-degree, azure day can turn into Santa Land in a matter of hours.
The next and most dominant of the Grand County seasons is real winter, not to be remotely mistaken with anything that the rest of the country refers to as winter. As I mentioned earlier, this is ‘Kick your ass, freeze your butt, blah, blah, blah winter’. Your typical winter in Grand County generally lasts anywhere from 9 to 14 months. Daytime highs of -10F are common for most of December & January. February is usually a lot colder. There was a night when I went outside to smoke a cigar and the nighttime air being sucked through the business end of the cigar froze up the moisture from my breath in the discharge end of the cigar. I wasn’t out too long that evening. It is literally too cold to snow, as the flakes are so frozen and the air so dry that the snow falls like the finest ash you’ve ever encountered; you can effortlessly sweep a 3-4 inch snowfall from your front walk with a kitchen broom. However, it does accumulate, and by the end of February, you’ll typically have anywhere from 4-8 feet of it piled high on your northern exposure areas, i.e., the back of the house and roof-areas that don’t see the low-slung southern-sky sun for a few months. In fairness, it’s not always below zero in February – occasionally you’ll get a little tropical warm-up, say into the low 20’s, which then brings some moisture that translates into a damp-snow blizzard that limits visibility in a car to the inside front of your windshield. Getting caught in one of these – I have several times – is what made St. Christopher get out of the transportation business.
There are a few plus sides to real winter in Grand County. You have some of the best skiing to be had anywhere in the world. You can also ski in the winter, with some terrific powder and wonderful slopes. And then there’s the skiing! Moguls, side-slipping, stemming, traversing, cliff-hucking – woo baby, I can’t get enough of it. Not really. I tried to ski once, and took my skis off halfway down the bunny slope, never again to attempt a double-reverse traversing cliff-huck. So while the winter in Grand County offers some pretty good skiing, if you don’t ski, you’re pretty much you-know-what for something else to do. I guess one final plus of a Grand County winter for me is that the brutally cold climate is not conducive to the growth of the large, poisonous tarantulas typically found in tropical climates. I thank God every day for that fact, as I’m scared to death of big tarantulas. I’m always thinking to myself, “If I lived in an Amazonian rain forest, I’d be all the time dealing with big, hairy spiders. Here in Grand County, with 9 months of snow and sub-freezing temperatures, that isn’t an issue.”
Real winter is followed by post-winter, also known locally as ‘mud season’. Ahhh, Mud Season; how idyllic is that? Here’s a free slogan for the local Chamber – “Come Celebrate Mud Season in Beautiful Hot Sulphur!” Mud season is always welcomed by the locals, as it is the harbinger of better times ahead. The days are slowly getting longer and steadily getting warmer, the temperatures now starting to crack that 32-degree freeze-line with regularity – at least in the late afternoon, on sunny days. Those dry powdery snowfalls of real winter are replaced by heavy, wet, blinding snowstorms – but they melt quickly, especially when the daytime highs are in the low 40s and the torrential rains help to knock the winter snow accumulations into the swollen streams and rivers. And the end result of this glacial cleansing is, well, mud; on the roads, in the yards, the parks, the trails, the parking lots, the carpets and floors, and especially on Lucy’s’ underbelly and paws. Many of the locals, especially those involved in the seasonal hospitality and food and beverage industries, pack up and head out of town to warmer, sunnier, cleaner climes – that would be anywhere other than Grand County, CO.
The final season, though the shortest of the four, is the reason why 19,000 people put up with the other three seasons to reside in this county. Spr-ummer-fall essentially takes the best aspects of spring, summer and fall and rolls them into one languid, lush and beautiful 6-8 week season. At the onset of Spr-ummer-fall, the river thaws and gushes forth, the mountain meadows become lush with grass, sage and wildflowers, and the days end in a bask of alpenglow. This one-two week season is followed by a mountain summer – warm, dry days and cool starlit nights – where the sky is bluer and the stars are brighter than any you’ve ever seen or could imagine. The afternoon heat is often punctuated by a brief blast from Mother Nature, bringing oft needed moisture and relief to the arid valley. Only occasionally do the storms last into the evening, and even less do they bring summer snow. The final weeks of Spr-ummer-fall bring the golden aspens – a sight that makes the orange and red of Midwestern oaks, maples and hickories pale in comparison. If the color gold can ever look ablaze, it is in these aspens as they rest against the backdrop of the foot hills and peaks of the Rockies. One of the most spectacular sights one can ever behold is seen from the top of Ute Pass, a 20+ mile drive from the Riverside, where the spectacle of the Gore Range and the Blue River Valley is laid out before you in a panorama that has to be witnessed – it can’t be described. It is mountains that look like they were drawn by children, with sheer faces and exaggerated jagged peaks; throw in the golden explosion of the aspens, and you’ll find it hard to get back in your car and leave the view behind.
The four seasons of Grand County are truly a dichotomy – nature at its cruelest and most malevolent at one turn, and glorious and magnanimous at the other. It is as exhilarating to witness the brutality of the winter as it is to revel in the gentleness of summer. But forgive me my abruptness in ending this chapter of life in the mountains; I must now put aside my musings, as it is starting to rain tarantulas.
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