Rituals and Routines

Big Horn Sheep on Fall River Road, 2012

We are headed out on our yearly pilgrimage to Estes Park, CO and Rocky Mountain National Park on   Sunday for a week of "west and we-waxaction". I wrote that in an Elmer Fudd voice if you couldn't tell. Why? I have no idea but that's what my in-my-head voice was saying. Anyway, the trip almost didn't happen this year because of the flooding in Colorado, putting one of our cherished rituals and routines in serious Jeopardy. I mean really serious Jeopardy.  Like " Give me Mother Nature for $300, Art" type Jeopardy.

I've come to appreciate the value of rituals and routines. Our married life is full of them and many of them revolve around food. For example:

On Sunday mornings, we almost always read the paper and have coffee and then go exercise. I will run and GK will walk Grace. We then have a homemade breakfast and Grace the beagle gets her weekly scrambled egg in her dog food bowl. She starts getting excited when she sees the white microwave bowl come out of the cupboard and hears the crack of the egg. Even the beagle likes rituals and routines.

We usually have a home cooked meal on Sunday evening, followed by a trip to the Dairy Queen for ice cream when the weather is good.  We use the drive-through and will order a couple of Blizzards and a kid's cup of vanilla ice cream. You're probably wondering "who is the kid?" Yeah, the kid. Put yourself in the shoes of the employee working the drive- through when we pull-up.  You open the window to hand us the order, only to be greeted by the face of a bug-eyed and intensely focused beagle. OK, I confess. Besides the scrambled egg, Grace also gets a little ice cream once a week.  I can only imagine what those employees say after we drive away. Sunday is a really good day to be a beagle at our house.

MONKEY BREAD

Other food related rituals include only having sweet corn on the cob in the summer when you can buy it from the roadside stands. Chili is only made and served starting in September and isn't usually served much after the holiday season. Monkey Bread made with Rhodes frozen sweet dough is always served on Christmas morning after we've opened our gifts. We averted a near crisis last year when GK couldn't locate the Rhodes sweet dough at her usual grocery outlets. I went on a mission one night to find the dough and vowed not return home without it. I even made a stop at the Super Wal-Mart, a store I avoid like the plague.  The ritual of the Monkey Bread meant I had to expose myself to the mutants and trolls who shop there. If you shop at Wal-Mart and are reading this, you are exempt from the mutant and troll reference. Of course they didn't have the dough, but I did finally locate several packages of the Rhodes sweet dough at the Hy-Vee and the Christmas ritual was once again secured.

Our yearly trip to Colorado is all about rituals and routines. The drive up the Big Thompson Canyon is the warm-up act. We always stay at the same condo in Estes Park, usually in the same unit. We arrive on Sunday afternoon, the first week of October, unload our stuff, then  head for the local Safeway to buy any needed groceries that we didn't bring with us. GK uses her Safeway card which she keeps in her purse all year, to get the extra discount ( We don't have a Safeway in Omaha).  We grill fillet Mignon steaks, purchased at our neighborhood Fareway store, for our Sunday night meal. 

Mr. Elk near the golf course in Estes Park

First thing Monday morning, we walk around Lake Estes and get our first up close and personal look at Mr. Elk, who is usually guarding his harem on the golf course.  If you haven't yet witnessed the annual Elk rut, it's a sight to behold. Think Testosterone Overload. "He who gets the most cows wins" is the name of the game. Here is a brief synopsis of what you get. Starting in September,  the elk come down from the higher elevations for their mating season. The more senior and experienced bull elk try to round up as many female elk as they can. More is better. We once saw one who had 37 cows. Stud Elk. There are duels and jousts between the bulls especially when some junior wanna-be, "still with fuzzy antlers" guy tries to hone in on the harem of a more senior elk and steal a few cows. Can you  blame them? Do you want to be the junior elk who, after the rutting season is over and you're hanging around with the other guys and one asks, "Hey junior, how'd you do?" and you got nothin'? I didn't think so. Nonetheless, there is a lot of bugling, snorting, posturing  and chasing, and according to my sensible wife, "ridiculous, inefficient, and sophomoric" behavior. Even the commentary is part of the ritual.

Sprague Lake

Then it's back to the condo for breakfast before we head into Rocky Mountain National Park for the rest of the day. Even our first day in the park is a routine. We start off at the Endovalley, then drive up the Old Fall River Road to the summit of the mountain  (elevation 12, 183 feet). We get that part of the trip knocked off on our first day just in case it snows and they close the roads for the season. We stop in at the  Visitor's Center, have a drink and a snack, then drive back down Trail Ridge Road to view the majestic views and the aspen that are turning a hundred shades of gold. On Wednesday evening of our week, we always eat at the Dunraven Inn. On Thursday, we order pizza to-go and spend our last night relaxing in the condo before heading back early the next morning. In between are trips and hikes all over the park, elk watching and taking in the sights and sounds of nature. The condo sits right on top of Fall River so hours are spent sitting and listening to the water rush by, reading and just smelling the mountain air. We've never tired of our routines and rituals.

GK and the Aspen

Which brings us back to this year's trip. Because of the extensive rain and flooding, (no plagues, grasshoppers or famines, thank God!) the  two primary highways into Estes Park are closed. No Big Thompson Canyon warm-up show this year. But we will be able to take an alternate route in for from the south that was just opened up last week. The condo where we usually stay is not able to open in time for our trip because of sewer problems. GK said ixnay to the idea of using port-a-potties when we heard that another property nearby was offering them as an interim solution.  Fortunately, we were able to secure what looks to be a nice condo on a property in another part of Estes that has working toilets, just no river running outside our door.  A reasonable trade-off, we both agreed. And Rocky Mountain National Park, which was closed for over a week and a half, is now 93% open to the public. 

As much as we cherish our rituals and routines, we pride ourselves on making the best of what life deals us. Going with the flow- doing a little rope-a-dope in the face of reality. Lord knows we've had enough practice to last 2 lifetimes. So our trip out and back will take a few hours longer, but we'll get to see some scenery we've have not yet seen. We won't get to stay by the river, but we'll still be grilling our fillets on Sunday night. The park didn't get washed away in the flood. Mr. Elk is still up to his old tricks and promises to put on another bawdy, tawdry, foolish show. The Dunraven Inn is open and ready to serve.  And the aspen will still be turning a hundred shades of gold.

Aspen trees in RMNP