Carousel Days…

If you're going to break down, do it somewhere beautiful.

two young boys ride a beautiful, handmade carousel

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What was meant to be a fun couple of days visiting friends and hanging around a little casino town while the Airstream got new axles has devolved and evolved into what is shaping up to be nearly a month’s worth of living on Friend’s couches and spare rooms, hotels and soon a cabin (with a kitchen!)

While we’re still debating with our insurance company over whether they’ll pay for our bent frame or not (the axle issue resolved, a bent frame arose blindsiding the whole affair), and therefore our hotel stay as well, we’ve dwindled away most of our savings and have been living on takeout and continental breakfast for weeks (not the worst scenario, but far from the healthiest when you’ve got two incredibly picky young eaters).

On the brighter side, the swath of America that stretches from Black Hawk, Colorado to Boulder, with Rollinsville, Nederland and a couple of National Forests in between, is stunning. I feel comfortable saying its my favorite summertime place in the whole nation.

Hummingbirds taxi pollen from blue spruce and alders just off the back deck, which overlooks Boulder Creek, a gushing little would be river here at the end of Spring in the Rocky Mountains. We’ve seen great bands and not so great ones, met old friends and new. Mornings are a brief jaunt to iced coffee, evenings the same for a beverage or two at our choice of any of many local bars and restaurants. Driving beautiful backroads, always a snow-capped mountain peak view just around the bend, elk and deer abound and rumors of moose and 200 lb. cougars in the mix.

If it weren’t for the damage to the Airstream, we wouldn’t have had quite this experience as there’s no campground in town, so I suppose things have all worked out in some expensive, not always easily recognizable way.

I have spent a winter here, living in a VW Bus, so I am well aware the illusion summertime casts on these mountain towns, where they seem paradise for a few months between the blustering frigid winds and thick snows that trap all but the heartiest inside and around a fire pit, or send new homeowners who purchased in the warmer months heading for the real estate office ASAP.

So while we talk about staying, we know we’re in the illusion, we know we have to keep her moving, heading east to see family and then who knows where from there.

Assuming the garage ever calls, that is.