Travel Blog: Glass Wheels, Paper Wings: mountains

I have always associated mountains with my mother. Maybe it is because Mom planned 9 out of 10 of my childhood vacations around the mountains. Or maybe because I could see the elation that snow-capped peaks brought to her. Especially since the acrophobic, motion-sick, Calcutta-sick me wasn’t much of a hill-person, I would curiously and stupefied-ly watch out for what my parents got out of these high-altitude monsters!!
(Wondering how I became me? Well…without much ado, let me just gut your curiosity by saying-- every now and then, I see my parents in my reflection, much to awe and sometimes to concern and infrequently, amusement; but I guess this happens to a lot of us, most commonly to the best of us here.)

So going back to mountains, when I was planning my Mom-weekends for this summer…for some reason I came up with mostly sea-sides or water-bodies (and I live on Erie) except for a Colorado weekend… and I thought-- ‘well, she would have really loved the hillies!’ So when I planned our Maryland-DC-Virginia getaway, I thought why not? The Atlantic had to make way for the Appalachians…Virginia Beach had to give way to Shenandoah! And man, was that a good decision! We deliberated about Monanghela (West Virginia) but at the last moment decided to skip it … and instead make most of the stars at hand a.k.a. Shenandoah (Native Indian word meaning 'daughter of the stars')

On one hand when we were really taking out scopes of diversity from this trip, someone had better plans for us. The dull cloudy skies of crabby Maryland gave way to lovely sunshine as we hit Front Royal, Virginia.
From there on we were cuffing weather patterns that changed every hour. During that 104 mile drive, the plushest greens that were swathed with sunshine this moment, changed into dark lime colors the next, with a depth that only sudden stormy showers could bring.

That strange musty smell of wet dirt and storms that wift them to your nose remind me of home and of Kalboishakhi-s.
The leaves dithered and turned back on each other, producing a myriad of multidimensional green maze that lured you into the depths of wild trails. John Muir's "the mountains are calling and I must go" made perfect sense.

The azure and white playful sky would in moments give way to pitch-black low-lying dark clouds that swarmed from hill to hill, showering on some, simply hovering on some others. Moist clouds flowing in and out of the car and touching your shoulders like the hills were breathing down on you.

Wildflowers in every shade of lilac, pink and white, blue and yellow. Blue birds and red jays and butterflies. Strange snakes. Wild bears, mid-size black and 20 feet from our car parked on the main road.
And my mother to share it all with. Life couldn’t get much better.

Purple ranges overlooking the rivulets glowed orange in the setting sun….

and the blue ridges, ah! The Blue Ridge.

Layers of symmetry, like the globe was ‘marble printed’ in three pastels and a brown : ) A lot like my mother-- Peacefully dynamic. Enormously humane. And ethereally big; bluer and bigger than all of us here.

…And a reminder of how much more there is to see.

I have lived in Pennsylvania for some time and driven through the Alleghenies for more times than I can count, in all 4 seasons and everything between them and don’t get me wrong, I am a fan of the Alleghenies…I swear by her beauty….but lets just say, maybe I never stopped there long enough to ‘smell the roses’, so I’m not in a position to compare.
I have never been to the Monanghela-s or the Smokey-s either; when I do, maybe, I can give a more compehensive ‘trip-advisor-ly’ note than this anecdote of sheer exhilaration and compulsive adoration about the Shenandoah Valley.
I keep reverberating that it probably couldn’t get any better. However if I am to change something, it would be staying at the forest lodgings...I couldn’t tell you about management or room conditions but if I were to decide based on locations, Skyland it would be. (One quick note: Reservations run out fast)
More pictures on my Flickr page http://www.flickr.com/photos/kolika/sets/72157620541242817/
Until then keep those wheels spinning and smell the paper wings!

View Larger Map

This Mothers day weekend Mom and I did a mini trip to the Colorado Springs area especially concentrating on

Pikes Peak country. Colorado pictures always show snow-clad, perfect, sharp ranges, clear skies, abundant sunshine and lush evergreens. And we got a day, highly representative of the same. On a regular basis I am advised by my fiancé to use polarizers when taking pictures, but trust me, it just can not get bluer than that, if you’re blessed with the sky, we had that Saturday.

We spent half a day at the much underrepresented Garden of the Gods…remember that we only had one day to spend in Colorado Springs and we were hesitant initially whether we were making the right choice. But Garden of the Gods was, well, heavenly.

Red rocks washed in bright sunshine standing stark against the blue Colorado skies, hosting jays and doves in the crevices and all this with a backdrop of the white Rockies standing on a base of spruce, pines and aspen, the latter sparkling a fluorescent green in the sun.

We trailed, marveling at the huge sandstone and limestone rock formations.From how many people actually brought their dogs there, it looks like an amazing place to go just casual dog walking for the locals. Watch out for rattle snake they say, however, especially if you’re out there in the hot summer months…

Also if you’re there early enough in the day, catch the pancake and sausage breakfast at the visitor center. Real nice people, cheap food and amazing pottery work :)

Since we didn’t have a lot of time on our hands we were not sure if we wanted to take the train that goes up Pikes Peak, besides the fact that it was expensive and guided tours almost always hinder your personal plans and options on where you want to spend how long. So we decided to drive the 19 mile stretch to the 14000 something peak… the last 2 miles of which was blocked for inclement weather and snow.

Up until Crystal Reservoir which is 5 miles in, it didn’t seem much, but then the headache increased (high altitudes does that to me) and soon we were not seeing too many guard rails any more. (when you see t shirts that read “real men don’t need guard rails” believe the fact that a state which has 5 ft wide shoulders on perfectly flat 3 lane highways, can actually have a tourist place with roads that are clumsy, without signs, without guard rails and without any safety measure whatsoever… strange!) And for a place which is infested with tourists who might not all be hilly road driving savvy, the hairpins are pretty scary…but we did it and what can I say, I like it better at the top ;) (I read that one on a t shirt too) if I say it was breathtaking, it would get too literal and ear-popping (literally literal…given that I am at 14k foot from sea level) and if I say beautiful you’ll say I probably wasn’t looking because I was too into getting my Mom back down safely so let me stop at breathtakingly beautiful, check it out for yourself and I recommend driving and drivingsafe (try it without the train; here at glass wheels, life’s always better without blabbering tour-guides)

As we came down and out of there, on our way to Manitou Springs, two things stopped us. One was the smell of coffee and the other an intricately painted elk sculpture (full size). An older lady who we later learned was the owner of the shop came out and explained how one side of the horse depicted the Colorado Fire of 2002 and the other side of how the community picked up the pieces and moved on to betterment. Going back to the pieces now, what these two ladies picked up were hope and peace from that disaster. The abundant aspen was one plant that wouldn’t be burnt down representing the spirit of this community and here stands now a beautiful craft store “Born of the Flames” selling work from local artists and aspen-woodwork that these ladies create. Expect anything from card holders, hanging angels and big lamps made of aspen wood. The kindness, the hope, the spirit and the peace was contagious, all that in the face of loss and disaster is awe-inspiring and beautiful. There’s so much to learn, so much for all of us to live for. Kudos ladies!

Time was running out, but when its mom and me, we have to stop and smell the coffee huh! I have to mention the coffee store tucked right next to this one. Food was good but nothing to talk of, but the décor was… omigod! Pre-1950s license plates from all the states… huh! Not original, but those who know me will know I will notice and love THAT!

Before we shot out towards Denver, we decided to spend some time in bright and beautiful Manitou Springs arty downtown. Lined with art stores and bustling crafty hangouts, this was MY kind of place. We walked the pavements raided some inventory and brought home some pretty quirky fun stuff including a $5 head massager (not local) and a birdie barometer from a glass art store (if you nip the beak off, the liquid volume will change with ambient pressure and thus tell you if you’re expecting precipitation of any form…huh for where I live, I wake up everyday with a open heart, expecting precipitation of some sort… darn it)…

Soon it was time to call it a day. We witnessed a beautiful ‘highway sunset’ as we drove to the mile-high city. We wanted to hit the 16^th street Mall the next day but the cloudy rainy way that Denver greeted us with made it impossible. Instead, we drove to the Capitol weaving through the roadwork and the immense traffic (why cant people just sleep in on Sunday mornings??) and then out to the city to the butterfly pavilion. It was Mothers day and it was full of kids and their moms… (Maybe all Sundays are) but it was fun… I accidentally stepped on one live and one dead butterfly and heavy heartedly zoomed the rest of the rainforest embalmed enclave for beautiful findings… one of these days I will have them all listed and up on my Kothakoli blog… until then just enjoy the sights and smell the wings (…paper wings)!