“The Colorado Rocky Mountain high… I’ve seen it rainin’ fire in the sky… Talk to God and listen to the casual reply… Rocky Mountain High…” I blasted that song from my iPod and sang those words at the top of my lungs as Tim and I explored the little mountain towns around Denver for the first time. I did feel high in a way, from the inspiring beauty of the mountains surrounding me. I wanted to soak in every sight, every taste, every smell, every sound, on this, my last day in the Wild Wild West.
(Sorry for the year-long delay in completing my posts about the Wild Wild West. I got side-tracked publishing a book.)
After breathtaking trips to New England in the fall of 2009 and the fall of 2010, I couldn’t imagine that the West would ever compare. But by Day 7 of our Wild Wild West trip, I had completely changed my mind. I loved the West… just as much… maybe even more.
Some like to take pictures of nature. Some like to take pictures of people. Some like to take pictures of food. I like to take pictures of all of those things, but most of all, I like to take pictures of signs. As we traveled throughout the west, I’d scream, “Pull over! There’s the state line sign!” Then I’d force Don, Ruth, and Tim, my travel companions, to get out of the SUV and pose with me for a variety of pictures.
You see, a picture of a state line sign is proof that I’ve been there. It’s the conquering of a goal. And it’s the perfect desktop background for my computer, triggering many happy daydreams during otherwise stressful days. By the end of Days 5 and 6, I boasted three new sign pictures for my gallery.