Colorado...

The State Flower of Colorado and one of my favorite wildflowers- the Columbine

Sunset at LaManga Pass

The Cumbres & Toltec train blowing its horn at a crossing (we had Case and Joey on the phone and they heard the whistle loud and clear)

The cookout fire just below Platora

Brookies ready for the camp fire

Melanie Fly Fishing

Me at the Homeowners Park at HORCA named for Dad

Elk Creek is still swolen from runoff

The Conejos Valley from the observation turnout on Highway 17

A welcomed guest to our cookout taken from Elk Creek

Me with the sign for Dad's Mile on Highway 17- Yes Mel and I cleaned it although his friends have been doing a great job of keeping it clean

For eight years, our immediate family shared a lot of memories and good times in Colorado. Mom and Dad bought a house, and, as usual, opened it to everyone they knew and even some they barely knew.

It has been five years since Melanie and I have been to HORCA (located between Chama, NM and Antonito, CO on Colorado Highway 17) and it is an amazing place.

Melanie and I arrived late Saturday afternoon and took the drive up Spruce Hole to take in the view. Sunday we went to the Conejos Community Chapel and connected with a lot of friends mom and dad had there and Sunday afternoon we started fly fishing the creeks and the Conejos River. I don't really count fish but people always ask "how many did you catch". Tuesday morning I was the first one in on the Elk Creek Trailhead so I started from there instead of hiking in, past the other fishermen. In three hours I probably released 35 or so and ended up with the final four small brookies Melanie and I had reserved for a cookout. In two and a half days of fishing, probably 50 trout were caught and all but eight were released. The largest I landed were a pair of 14 inch "twin" rainbows but, as ususal, a nice brown, maybe around 20 inches, got away from me in the fast currents of the Conejos about 75 yards north of the 17 bridge at the end of an S curve in the river. I had him to withing 10 feet or so, but when he saw me, he shot to the main current and we had about a split second standoff, I felt a shake of the head then felt the tippet break.

We drove over 250 miles just in the Conejos Drainage in three and a half days, going back to see all those places where so many happy memories were made. I heard the stories again of how admired my Dad and Mother were and are and what they meant and mean to the people they know.

I hope to return to chase the trout, see the leaves in the fall and just soak in that aroma of pines, camp fires, and clean mountain air.

So, to Robert and Jean, Dan and Martha and a couple of others who welcomed us back- thanks. We hope to see you soon.

(Remember- click the photos to enlarge if you care to do so)