Is it always cold in Estes? Or is it just me?

Recently, I was in Estes Park for Memorial Day weekend. I went camping, er rather I mean, campering*, with my Y Besties at Hermit Park. Yep, that was indeed the name, Hermit Park. No, there weren't any hermits hanging around; at least not that I saw. However, now that I think about it, there were some rather strange noises in the middle of the night. Hmmmm? But I digress, Hermit Park....the views were spectacular, the company was almost perfect...long story, no need to go into it....and the evening was full of bonfire and yummyness. But the sleep. Oh the sleep. It was freakin' freezing. Not kidding, fuh-a-reezing. And I mean, F.R.E.E.Z.I.N.G. Did I mention it was freezing? Even poor Tobey, the adopted Greyhound of Ellyn and Rhonda's, had chattering teeth that kept us up in the middle of the night. So sad. Freezing aside, I had a blast and was able to forget about the world around me and just relax, play games, take naps and enjoy the great outdoors. That rarely happens my friends. 93.5% of the time I feel like the world is riding heavy on my shoulders and I have no way to escape it; but campering this past weekend was a blast and I was able to do just that....escape. Well, for the most part anyway. Certain company only likes to talk about the Y; but we were able to muddle through it all. It was just what I needed.

We went in to Estes Park to stroll the art fair since we were so close to the beautimous mountain town of Estes to find reprieve from the strong winds that kept me sneezing all freakin' weekend. Yay for allergies. As I was strolling Estes, I took a walk down memory lane and was remembering the first time I visited there many many years ago with my friend Karey. It was cold and in the middle of February. But I loved it....cold and all. Often when I would visit we would grab our cameras and go explore. I loved it. I would do whatever I could to get the most perfect photo. As Ellyn, Rhonda, Tasia, Angie and I were strolling, I came across the infamous river where Karey and I have one of my favorite photography stories.

Picture it....winter in Estes Park, 1997ish.

Karey and I were on a photography adventure. We were by the above river that ran under this large bridge coming into Estes. I decided that for the perfect photo I needed to walk across rocks on the ice in the river under the bridge. Yes. Call me brilliant. Call me crazy. Call me adventurous. But, that's what I needed to do for that perfect photo. And trust me, I was after that perfect photo. During this photo excursion I was using one of Karey's nice 35mm film cameras. Very expensive for 1997. It's sorta like the digital big daddy of today, the D90. And as I was scaling the ice and turing my body into a pretzel on the rocks on the ice in the river under the bridge I got the perfect shot. After the shot, I turned around to get off the rocks on the ice in the river under the bridge and then....my graceful self, slipped. I slipped off the rock, onto the ice, in the river, under the bridge. As I slipped off the rock on to the ice I had a mini moment of relief because I did not breakthrough the ice into the freakin' freezing water. Again, I only had a brief moment of relief and then heard the infamous...crackle, crackle, crack!! And I went through ice. My only thought was, "oh shit, I have Karey's camera!" As I was going into this freakin' freezing water I kept my hands in the air with the camera above my head. Thankfully it was only deep enough to mid thigh. You can't even the sense of relief I had that the camera didn't get dunked in water. And then I realized I was freakin' freezing, I had no extra clothes and we had many hours ahead of us. As I was wading out of the cold water with the camera above my head, Karey came running to check on me. As she was peeking under the bridge and she noticed I was in the hypothermia water, her first words to me were...."Is my camera alright?" Really? Really? Thats your concern? I mean I get it. She's a photographer and loves her camera. But I was in the freakin' freezing water in the middle of winter in Estes Park. I had chattering teeth and no clothes to change into once I got out of the water. And we still had hours of exploring ahead of us before we would head down the mountain and head home to Thornton. Now I realize that at the time her camera was my concern too; which is why I made sure that I kept it out of the water at any cost. But, I was hoping that there would be a little concern that I slipped off the rocks onto the ice which crackled open and landed me in the freakin' freezing water under the bridge. Did I mention that the water was hypothermia cold? Yes, it was. I froze for the rest of the day. Actually for the rest of the winter season. I don't think I warmed up until I was in the middle of the hot Oklahoma summer. Once my feet get cold, that's it for me. I'm done for. I'm finished. I'm cold until I can find a way to warm back up. It was such a funny moment. When I think back on it, I always giggle at what that must have looked like...the shock of it all and Karey's concern for her camera. Yeah, I'll never let her live it down. It's locked in my memory bank forever.

All this to say, anytime I'm in or near Estes no matter the season, I'm cold in some form which always makes me think of my plunge into the freezin' cold water. Actually, now that I think of it when Shauna and I took a walk in RMNP she thought it would be great to walk around the lake. It was warm nearing summer, but still snowy up in RMNP. As we were walking we lost the trail and I knew that I knew we were on the lake, but Shauna wanted to push on forward, saying something like..."It's fine!" I hesitantly went ahead with her until my foot went through the snow and into the lake. Again, cold. Not hypothermia cold, but cold. What is it with me and Estes and the cold? Whether it be taking photos, enjoying a stroll or campering. It's always cold at some point. I'll just resign myself to bring a parka anytime I head to Estes.

Yep. That's all.

*Campering: when one goes camping, but does not use a tent and sleep on the ground; but rather partakes of the joys of a camper. I don't think I have it in me to be a tent sleeper anymore. I did it as a kid when I would dance in powwow's. I'm over it now. So...I go campering, not camping. ;)