I woke up with a start at 7:00 am and ate the most wonderful room service omelet that I'd ever seen or tasted. Aaron had picked out this vegetarian omelet for me and it was absolutely heavenly. Of course, I may very well have just been in a pleasure-coma from actually sleeping for over twelve hours after my deprivation. I probably would have slept for longer, but we had an appointment we just had to keep at 8:00 am with our wedding coordinator, Michele, from Awesome Caribbean Weddings.

The second we stepped out of our cool air-conditioned room into the muggy hotness of St. Lucia for what could be considered the first time, our breath was taken away. A storm was going to roll in, but meanwhile, the island was under what seemed to me to be an oppressive humidity. My camera fogged up immediately and took quite a while to de-fog. All around birds were chirping and singing their songs while vibrant flowers and foilage proved to be a delight for my eyes. I truly was in a different "world."



We met with Michele down in the lobby of Sandals. She was extremely professional and lit up when she discussed our wedding with us. It was evident that this is a job that she enjoys. Her laughter was contaigious and even after the last few days that I'd had, I couldn't help but join in and relax. We explained a little more of what had been going on with Sandals, and she sympathized with us. We discussed a bit of the history of the island and she told us about our wedding location - Pigeon Island. There is an old British Fort on Pigeon Island with old cannons and ruins sprinkled all over. I felt it was a perfect match because of my six years of (American) military service and my love of history. We discussed the specifics of our wedding and exchanged paperwork.



After our three hour meeting with Michele, Aaron and I went to speak with the concierge about our experience with Sandals wedding department thus far. We also set up our tours for the next few days - horseback riding, scuba diving, snorkeling after a half-day catamaran ride, touring a volcano and some botanical gardens, going climbing around in the rainforest, etc. The concierge told us that they'd get back to us with information on what they were going to do about this extra $1,500 charge we never should have had - you see, the wedding department on St. Lucia told us that they absolutely could have done our wedding. It was Unique Vacations that had steered us wrong. They asked us if we would like for Sandals to do the wedding now, but we told them it was too late. We'd already signed a contract and Awesome Caribbean Weddings were working their butts off to make our wedding happen the way we wanted it. That was much better than Unique Vacations response - tough, too bad. We told them that we expected them to do something for us now that we'd had to cough up that extra money in order for us to be happy and to want to come back. But, let's talk about this unpleasantness later...

After we set up all of our tours and lodged our complaint, we went over to Barefoot by the Sea. This restaurant was on the beach, next to the sea, with no floor other than the sand. There was a large wooden structure built to be a roof, but it had open walls. The sea breeze swept into the pavilion and Aaron and I took off our shoes and played in the sand with our toes. We tried not to think about anything disgusting that may be in the sand, and instead just enjoyed ourselves while we sipped water and looked out over the ocean.





The restaurant had fabulous sculpture all over and was very beautiful in all of its decorations.





There were birds swooping down and trying to steal food from plates that people had abandoned, dragging french fries off into the bushes. There were other birds that just sat on the bushes next to us and sang us a beautiful song.





After our wonderful lunch, we went swimming in the ocean and then spent quite a bit of time at the swim-up bar.





We watched the sun go down over Pigeon Island and at least I thought very romantic thoughts. Who couldn't, when it was as beautiful as it was?



We finished up our wonderful day by eating at this wonderful Italian restaurant. Aaron had his favorite - lasagna bolognese. With our bellies sated, we wandered back to our room where we watched 10,000 BC on cable and then went to sleep.

Don't I look happy?

Labels: marriage, traveling

Jen's Long Winded Version of Events

So there we were, laying on the dusty, dirty floor of the Miami airport. It wasn't quite time to get up yet, and Aaron was still snoring away. I was glancing up at the clock every ten minutes as I flipped through a romance novel (hey, you've got to get in the mood for your honeymoon, you know). Finally four o'clock rolled around, which was when security finally opened back up to let us into our terminal. I nudged Aaron awake, grunted, tried not to get a whiff of my clothes, and we headed over to security. Unfortunately, all the other sleepers (including the ones who stole all the good chairs, darn them) were also awake and waiting at security. Luckily it didn't take too long before we were heading down the very long terminal, to our gate at the very end.

We killed more time and then our flight took off at 6:20. By this point I'd almost been awake for 24 hours, excluding a 15 minute cat nap I'd gotten on that disgusting floor. I was a little punch drunk, to put it lightly. You see, I'm the kind of person that prefers to get 10 hours of sleep a night, and I don't sleep very well in public places. I could make myself sound cool and say it is because I don't feel safe in public places because of my military training, but I think it'd be more accurate to say that I prefer a comfortable bed and quiet.

I had the window seat on all of our flights, because Aaron and I decided that he didn't want the benefit of the window seat considering I'd have the cost of vomiting. I don't do well on the interior of planes, for some reason. It was fortunate that I own the camera and had the window seat, because I got some pretty neat shots as the sun was coming up over the Atlantic Ocean on the way to Puerto Rico. (Go here to see more.)



In my sleep-deprived haze, I thought the clouds were so cool with their vertical stretches. Beneath them, you could see their shadow on the ocean and each individual wave. I stared for quite some time.



Our flight landed in Puerto Rico around 8 am - it was a short hop. We wandered around the tiny little Puerto Rican airport and killed even more time (Aaron slept). Our flight was supposed to leave around noon or so, and we all boarded. After everyone had gotten settled, there was a long pregnant pause. Finally, the captain got on the intercom system, "Well, we seem to have an annunciator light on. We're not sure what's going on here, but we're going to try to solve this problem."

I leaned over and whispered in Aaron's ear, "What is an annunciator light?"

He gave a slight smile, "A warning light."

I sighed.

More minutes went by. "Well, folks, it looks like we're going to have to ask you all to deplane. Make sure to take all of your belongings with you, because we may have to change planes."

We all deboarded and wandered back into the dismal Puerto Rican airport. By this point, I was so tired (awake for 29 hours) that I was starting to get a major case of the grumps. Can't we just hop on a life raft and paddle? That was going through my head as I pondered the fact that I was a short hop from St. Lucia, and yet stuck, and I couldn't get to my room.

An hour and a half passed without news while they tried to figure out what was wrong with our plane. Finally they allowed us to board (the same plane!) again, but Aaron and I were relieved to see a mechanic wandering away holding an old part in his hand.

We arrived on St. Lucia around 4:30 and were whisked away to Sandals, which thankfully was only a 15 minute drive. As soon as we arrived, we were escorted to the concierge lounge and handed two full glasses of champagne. I was a little giddy (and a hell of a lot smelly after being in my warm clothes for almost 36 hours). We spoke with the concierge about the amneties offered by Sandals, and then they gave us a short tour and escorted us to our room.

By this time I was so tired that I could barely walk. I think I was mumbling and drool was escaping from my mouth unnoticed, and I certainly smelled foul. I hopped in the bath as soon as we got to our room and tried not to fall asleep. Aaron grabbed some champagne from the minibar in our room and poured me a glass. I was extremely grateful.

He ordered us some roomservice (free!) and I tried to stay awake to eat it. Apparently, though, after being awake for 35 hours I finally succumbed to the drowsiness and crashed on the couch, folded over a pillow like an infant curled in a womb. (Anyone with young children should understand what I'm describing as it is a standard young child curled-up sleeping position.)

Aaron told me later that housekeeping and room service came in, both of them making loud noises, and I never twitched. I guess I was breathing pretty heavily, as well, although I certainly wasn't snoring... I hope.

I woke up and sat straight up around 11 pm. It must have looked pretty silly, like I'd just snapped awake from a hypnotic state. Aaron mentioned that I'd been talking in my sleep. As soon as he noticed my less-blurred eyes, he indicated that room service had left me some pizza.

I had no idea that I'd crashed - it was almost as if I'd blacked out. I glanced down at the tray and was confused as to how long I'd been sleeping and how room service had come and gone without me even noticing.

By that point, however, I was so hungry that I just didn't care. I gulped down my entire medium hawiian pizza (hey, I'm on vacation!). Later Aaron told me that he'd eaten a cheeseburger and was watching TV while I slept. Soon I finished my pizza.

And finally... finally. I crashed here for another eight hours.



Aaron's Short Version of Events (from when I was passed out)

When we arrived, we had been up and about for about 36 hours. We were guided to the conceirge room where we were served champagne while we checked in. At this point, we could have gone swimming or drinking or anything that our hearts desired, but our hearts were very sleepy so we headed to our room. We quickly surveyed the room service menu, ordered, and settled in. Being the geek I am, I set to work checking out the TV placed at the end of our bed while Jen, being the dork she is, hopped on the couch and started reading all the little pamphlets about hotel operations and excursions and such. (Jen's note: Psst, I am not a dork.)

Before long, I noticed that Jen wasn't saying much. She had curled up around a pillow and PASSED OUT. She never takes naps and she's usually a relatively light sleeper so I figured she would wake up when room service knocked on the door. Well, housekeeping showed up first to turn down our sheets and Jen slept straight through it. The maid was not particularly quiet, snapping sheets straight and such, but Jen never even stirred. Then room service showed up and she placed the tray right on the table in front of Jen. Still NOTHING! She was curled up so sweetly and so deeply asleep that we all just thought it was the cutest thing. I didn't wake her for her food. I figured she would rather eat cold food than wake up any time soon.

Other pictures of our room (please click on pictures for additional commentary and to see them larger, and as always, more are available on Flickr):

Labels: marriage, traveling

Aaron and I looked over at each other. He shook his head, "No."

I sighed. "I have that much room on my credit card."

He looked doubtful, but was listening.

"Here's a list of everything they provide." As I read to him, his expression changed. The list of things that was included in the price - a cake, music, a personal consultant, a professional photographer with 40 digital images and the ability to purchase hundreds more, champagne, an extremely scenic location, and most of all... A wedding. No, not just most of all. Best of all.

They told us that they could do it. They could get us married. Sure, we could get married in Iowa via the JOP. But we didn't want that. We wanted a ceremony and something to remember for the rest of our lives. We have no intentions of there ever being another occasion like this one. We want to get married once, and once only. So - a beautiful wedding or a JOP?

We decided.

On the credit card it went. By now it was about 9:30, and we still hadn't finished packing. The kids weren't ready to go. We had to leave at noon for the Chicago airport.

Hustle, hustle. Aaron and I went into overdrive as we tried to get everything together so that we wouldn't miss our plane. Right before noon, we got the kids dropped off, the paperwork faxed to Fenella to charge our credit card, the contract signed for the wedding service (and faxed), and we'd gotten me a diet coke. I needed it. Bad. After the last 18 hours I'd had, I felt like I was about to go out of my mind.

I sipped on my d-coke (ha! Who am I kidding? That sucker was down in 5 minutes flat), and we drove to Chicago. Four hours. Lots of tollways.

We got to the airport in plenty of time (particularly considering our flight was delayed), and sat around. And around. And around. At about this point, I was very thankful for the 8 or so books I'd made Aaron lug around in his carry-on. (Hey, it was a fair trade. I was lugging his tux and all his shirts as "my carry on.")

At 8:20, our flight took off. The flight was rather uneventful - so much so that I don't even remember what I did. They may have showed us the movie "The Bucket List." I do believe that I saw that movie three times on our way to and from St. Lucia.

We arrived in Miami around 2 am. Unfortunately, our flight didn't leave until 6:20, and the airport was closed. The only food was a rundown-looking Burger King, from which we partook (greedily).

We scouted around for a place to sleep, and couldn't find a good one. At one point, we found this nice comfy looking bench with a three inch cushion. All the good chairs around the airport had already been taken, so we settled down. I was reading while Aaron took a snooze, when all of a sudden I heard this loud, "Ahem." I paused. "AHEM." I looked around.

A man holding a broom made a shooing motion at me, "You can't sleep there miss."

I blinked. "Okay, thanks." I woke Aaron up. We moved over to the next place we could find that didn't seem to have watchful eyes. It was a floor. A dirty, dusty floor. And it was freezing.

By this point, I'd been awake for 19 hours and really wanted to sleep. However, there were people all around us: some talking about their trip to South America, some snoring, others just looking shady. I sneezed and tossed and turned. Then I picked up another book and finished it off while Aaron snored lightly.

I figured that maybe I'd catch a nap on the next plane, but little did I know that I'd be awake for around 35 hours.

Labels: marriage, traveling

Wednesday, June 11th Aaron and I woke up at 7 am. We had a nervous pit in our stomach, and we needed to call Sandals.

The day before, I'd been browsing Sandals's website, checking to make sure we had all of our documentation on us. In order to get married, you have to reside on the island for a certain number of days and you must have your passport and birth certificate. If you've ever been married before and divorced or widowed, you also need documentation on all of that.

While I was double checking I had everything, I noticed a form over on the right side of the screen. Under "commonly used documents," it was labeled "wedding form." I got to thinking in that split second that I had never filled out a wedding form. I'd talked to the wedding hotline a couple times to make sure I had all the correct documentation and the correct room to get the free wedding, and they'd never brought up this form either. Or, at least, not to my recollection. Once I opened it up and started reading, I started to panic.

On the form it mentioned needing a wedding reservation number, and that you had to send your documentation in 60 days before your arrival date.

Oh, crap.

I did not have a wedding reservation number, and I had not sent in any documentation 60 days ahead of time. Panic set in. I called Sandals and was told that the wedding department was closed, but that I could probably still get married as long as they weren't full for all of their available times. The man informed me that I had to call back the next day at 7:30 to talk to the wedding department.

Thus, why Aaron and I were up at 7 am on the day our flight left.

I sat on the couch, wringing my hands and mumbling things under my breath. Sure, Aaron waited until the last second to get a tux. Sure, he waited until the last second to get his wedding ring. Yeah, we weren't sure if he was able to pull off getting either. But here it was, the day we were going to leave. He had his wedding ring, and the tux was getting dropped off before noon. More importantly - look at how I'd screwed up. We might not even get married!

7:30 arrived and I called Sandals. I was told that the wedding department was still closed, and to try back at 8. I nervously sat around for another thirty minutes, waiting for the wedding department to open. Right at 8, I called. I was told that there was no way they would be able to get us in for a wedding. The 60-day deadline was a firm deadline, and they could not get our wedding together in such a time.

So then, my mind racing while I was sobbing on the phone, I asked if there was any way I could get married on the island. The woman sounded very doubtful, "I don't think so." My heart sunk. Then, she said, "But I'll give you the tourism board number. Maybe they can help." After I called the tourism board, and got a list of wedding companies on the island, I started dialing.

We got ahold of two wedding companies. The first said they'd send us some e-mails with information. The second was extremely snotty and told us there was no way they could perform any wedding for less than $1,000, that would be bare bones, and that they would not arrange for us to just have a JOP wedding, because that "just wasn't done on St. Lucia." I hung up feeling pretty dejected, but was waiting for that e-mail to see what we could get.

At 8:30, I had gotten in touch with Fenella at Awesome Caribbean Weddings. She soothed me, told me to stop crying, and that she could help. She sent us e-mails with the wedding location (Pigeon Island), and cost, plus all of the extras like cake and hairstyles and upgrades for bouquets. By now, Aaron and I were frantic thinking about how it'd look if we came back to Iowa and weren't married. We'd been talking about this for a year. We were upset with Sandals because they had never brought it up in our correspondance, it wasn't clear on the brochures and the website, and they had been extremely unhelpful on the phone.

We looked at each other and at the bottom line on the e-mail Fenella sent us. Free wedding via Sandals (not happening) vs. $1500 through Awesome Caribbean Weddings (that we didn't have).

Gulp.

Gulp.

Labels: marriage, traveling

Lately with all of the papers I've been writing and books I've been reading, I have started to develop a bad attitute. In fact, I've felt about it all precisely as this quote suggests:

Public speaking is the art of diluting a two-minute idea with a two-hour vocabulary.
- Evan Esar

I love Google quotes of the day.

-------------

Instead of posting next about Mesa Verde, as that is what came next on our Colorado time line, I am instead going to post about the Durango-Silverton train trip. I'll cover Mesa Verde a little later when I figure out what I did with my brochure.



On Sunday morning, we woke up (early of course - sheesh, Dad), ate breakfast, and went to the train station. It was a beautiful morning, promising to be warmer than the 50 degrees it'd been the day before. Considering we were going up in elevation, I was seriously hoping the sun would be warming.



The sights on the three and a half hour train ride (there, and another three and a half hours back) were beautiful. Post card like, really.



We were sitting in a gondola car, which is a train car that has open sides. We could lean out and touch the rock and trees (sometimes you didn't even have to lean, you just stuck a pinky out and tried not to get it ripped off). The air smelled beautiful and when you went past water, you could feel mist on your face. The downside is that all of the soot from the engine flies back in your face, so you must wear glasses to protect your eyes. I had a thin layer of soot on my face, with soot rubbed into my skin where my glasses pressed against me. I wish I would have taken a picture of that.



In some places we were very high up over a ravine with the Animas river down below. In other places, you couldn't tell we were climbing up in elevation.



The residents of Durango and every town on the way to Silverton came out to say hello. We had people performing some of the tourist-y things you could do like zip lines and gliders. We also just had regular residents, out for their morning trot with their dog. This woman was beautiful on her gorgeous horse. I was a lot-bit jealous.



A breath-taking view of a man-made (I believe) lake on the journey. What I wouldn't give to live beside that (during the "good months").



Eeeeeek - are we going to fall off?



The sun was bright, the clouds were beautiful; the terrain stood out against such a backdrop in a stunning view of what nature should look like.



Once you stop over a certain river, the train expels all of the steam before it gets more water from a tank up ahead. (I can't remember why or any more details on this, but the information is in my guide book if anyone is curious.)



Water levels were high all across Colorado in areas where the snow melt was coming down. The rest of Colorado was in a drought. It was an odd juxtaposition. This is a seasonal (I think) waterfall based on snow melt.



Looking behind us at the caboose and river. So beautiful.



There's just something about bridges over rivers that makes me happy.



How can people live near this and not want to spend all day staring at it? I'd never get anything done.



We made it to the top! :)

Labels: traveling

After a lengthy breakfast at Village Inn (boy, do they have a wonderful vegetarian scramble), Dad and I trekked up the side of a mountain to Glenwood Caverns Adventure Park. It was really hard work, let me tell you. I don't think I've ever exuded such sweat, not even when I was in basic training for the U.S. Army. Even the views were dizzying.



Shite. You caught me. We rode up the mountain in a gondola (not to be confused with the gondola car we rode in on the Durango to Silverton train, but that's a story for Tuesday).

The views really were dizzying, though, with the beautiful early morning fog.







After we had our feet settled on terra firma up top, we looked around at their various rides. I hadn't wanted to spend the extra cash on any of them, so while we waited for the cave tour, we just walked around and explored what the amusement park had to offer. All in all, it wasn't too impressive, but still probably a lot of fun.

What I was most interested in, though, was the tour of the cave. It began at 9:30 (I think, man I'm getting old that I can't remember anymore), and was led by a teenager just out of high school who'd been doing the tours for three summers. He was entertaining and he had a super cute knit hat, so he has my vote.

You walk through a door into the caverns and are reminded that you are not supposed to touch the stalagmites.



Just in case you don't realize the significance of the sign above the doorway, they make sure to tell you the story of the "fondle-mite."



Apparently back around the beginning of the 20th century or so, some teenagers were visiting a cave with their father and he asked them to break off one of the stalagtites. They did, and took it home with them. About ten years later they felt really bad (it does take millions of years for those to form) and returned it hoping that it could somehow be utilized. Therefore, the owners (or someone affiliated with the caves) stuck the fondle-mite in this little alcove area and they tell everyone who enters the cave to touch away - because you aren't supposed to touch anything else in the cave.

I'm not going to show all the pictures from the caves (and I didn't even put them on Flickr), but I'll highlight my top five favorites. Eventually, I'll add commentary to the pictures on Flickr, too.


I'm a famous cave-explorer-and-rock-namer, and I hereby dubb this "Snot Rock." He told us what it is actually called, but I forget what he said. Instead, I'd like to point out (but not touch) that it looks like snot poured over a rock. The guide told us they call it the "Neapolitan" because it has the brown rock, reddish rock, and white rock. You know - chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla?


I have no idea what this is called and I don't really know anything about it. However, it looks pretty frickin' cool.


The oh-so-famous "Cave Bacon" (look at the bottom of the ridge of rock - hey, I don't know cave formations are called). Our guide informed us that cave trolls love to eat the cave bacon.


Beautiful.


The "Drooling Crab." (Do you see it?!)


The cavern with most of the formations, all lit up. This isn't my favorite of the cavern pictures, but I don't have time right now to go through all 300 shots from that day to try to find it. So - my apologies for the rail in the middle of the picture.

We took the short and less-adventurous tour, but someday I want to try to climb through the 18" crack that leads from the top section of the cave to the cavern below. You know, when I lose 50 pounds. Or more.

Labels: traveling

On day three of our epic father-daughter Colorado trip, Dad and I tried to get over our disappointment of not being able to go through Rocky Mountain National Park. Dad's favorite part of Colorado is this park that I may never see. As I'm terrified of heights, I'm not feeling too bad about my apparent lack.

When we woke up this day in Glenwood Springs, Colorado - at an ungodly hour as my father is an early riser - we plotted out what we were going to do. We decided first on the list was to go see Doc Holliday's grave. Doc Holliday was a dentist turned gambler who had tuberculosis. In his final span, he spent time at the Glenwood Hot Springs in the hope that the miraculous medical water would help heal him. Instead, it is thought that it may have done him more harm than good.

When you hike up the trail on the side of the mountain to the Linwood Cemetary, you see some beautiful views of the town below and the mountains on the other side of the valley area.





When you get to the top and enter into the cemetary, you learn that they aren't entirely certain where John Henry 'Doc' Holliday is actually buried. He died in the winter when the ground was frozen and they lost track of where (and if) he was actually reburied properly in the cemetary. They say that they figure he's probably buried within twenty feet of where they placed the monument.



While walking around the cemetary enjoying different views and thinking heavily about the history that is acquired in the graveyard, we noticed a nest in a bush. Nearby was a tree whose bark had been stripped in order to make this nest. It's amazing how life continues. I remarked to Dad, as I'd heard somewhere or other, that the beginning and end dates on the tombstone mean nothing. Instead, I am endlessly curious about those dashes.



There were extremely beautiful flowers all over the trail.



We went back down the mountain and then had breakfast before we went on a cave tour (which I'll talk about tomorrow). It made for a very nice thoughtful start to our morning, and put me back in mind that Colorado wasn't settled by farmers trying to get a start on their life. Instead it was settled by people mining gold and other precious items, and that it had a very rich history with folk lore and stories. I think I'm going to have to add a book on the history of Colorado to my bookshelf.

And some John Denver tunes.

Last, I learned that while I am still not in very good shape, I'm getting there. I was, after all, able to hike up that (not so very steep) trail without dying or falling off in exhaustion.

Labels: traveling

I am so.. very.. tired. No time to write a blog or post today's pictures.

I think climbing up a 32' ladder on the side of a cliff that's at 7,000+ feet in elevation and then walking around on a cliff dwelling floor that has no wall took everything out of me.

Did I mention I'm terrified of heights?

(Maybe I won't be so exhausted tomorrow. ;)

Labels: traveling

Phew. We're on day two of our epic Colorado trip. Day one took us from Des Moines, Iowa to Greeley, Colorado. Soon after we left Weld County on day two, it was hit by massive storms and tornadoes. Sounds like we brought some Iowa weather with us, which is unfortunate for the man who died in his RV.

On day two (Thursday - today), we were planning on heading through Rocky Mountain National Park. Unfortunately the road going through the park doesn't open until Friday. Tomorrow. Doesn't that just figure?

We were planning on going through the park, coming out the other side, and staying in Winter Park. From there we were going to head to Glenwood Springs, see Doc Holiday's grave, and do a cave tour (on Friday).

Because of the mess-up with the roads (Colorado has had snow later than usual, so while a lot of their passes would be open by now, one in particular is still under twenty feet of snow. They are trying hard to get them open for Memorial Day Weekend.) Dad and I had to replan our trip. Instead of going through the park (since we couldn't) and then heading to Glenwood Springs the next day, we dropped south from Estes Park, outskirting Boulder and Denver, and then meeting up with 70 to head straight to Glenwood Springs (where we are now). Fortunately, I didn't know the entire area was under a tornado warning and that tornadoes were touching down. We did get a bit of hail and some serious winds, and that was scary enough when driving on the side of a mountain.

It went from 80 degrees rapidly to 30 degrees, hail, and snow, as we climbed up and up and up. Reminds me of Iowa weather, except we don't have mountains!

Well, we got here a little late to do any of the tours, and Dad was wiped from struggling against the wind for hours, so we soaked in the 15-person hot tub at our hotel and ate some great food. I think tomorrow morning we're going to wake up early, head to Doc Holiday's grave, the cave, and possibly the hot springs if the weather is still bad. If it's good enough to drive tomorrow, we'll just hit up the first two and then drive down to Durango.

Our tentative plan is to hit up the Durango-Silverton, Mesa Verde, and possibly something else, then head home. On the way back, weather permitting and time permitting, I want to try to hit up Garden of the Gods (thanks Tera). We'll see how it goes!

I'm completely rambling, so this may make absolutely no sense. In that case, just go look at a few of the nearly-one-hundred pictures I uploaded and tell me your favorite one. (Or don't. You know. Whatever makes you happy. ;)

Photos

Labels: traveling