The Finale


Boulder Mountain

Boulder Mountain, the end of the trail. Below and in the distance, 'The Trail' winds without us now.

Boy if you thought that last picture was scary just take a look at this one! May my hand not tremble as I pen these thoughts.

There's Jon -- already a man. Where did the time fly to my son?

And 'Gangsta' Pat, with 'almost low rider pants', faces those turbulent teenage years. Dragons! Hah! They're nothing compared to the challenge of raising children (And boy doesn't my Dad know it. Sure he can smile -- all his children have grown up! ;-) Not to worry, Pat, we'll face them together.

Then there's Dad, growing older, not as spry as he used to be, but still strong and very wise -- he can probably he still 'whup me' with one hand tied behind his back. Yet, he says, 'Growing Old is not for Wimps'.

I know what you mean Dad. After passing through the city of Boulder and continuing on the high road to this lofty perch, Dad felt the Jeep acting up. We spent a worried few seconds analyzing the situation.

Then we passed the 8,000 foot marker.

No wonder! The road was high, high! The slope so gradual at first that what appeared to be flat was actually rising. The Jeep, tuned to lower elevations and faced with the steady onslaught of the climb, naturally felt under-powered. That's like you Dad. You've been going uphill steadily these many, many years and you have climbed so very, very high . . . so very high.

A few minutes after I took this picture, the last of the warm air preceding the front passed over us and the first snows of winter descended upon us. We plowed forward in the Jeep over beautiful, now snow-tipped passes and summits as we descended to lower elevations and the steady rain -- five hours of it..

Winter had come.

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The images, articles, and concepts of this page are copyrighted by P.S. Neeley -- copyright 1997