Mountain Drive

Went for a drive with The Kid to Rocky Mountain National Park today. Admission was free because they're trying to boost local tourism. Aside from a screaming tantrum on Trail Ridge Road that scared the hell out of the marmots, we had a pleasant time. The Old Man works weekends, so he didn't come.

This is the view of Long's Peak from Highway 7, very close to my old district, where I used to work when I was a game warden. It reminded me how much fun it was to work outside half the time, and how much I miss the freedom of driving around in the mountains.

Here's Long's Peak. I heard from a crazy friend who hiked it that you have to start the hike at 2:00 or 3:00 am just to finish before the thunderstorms hit.

The last time I drove from Allenspark to Lyons I was in my work truck, pregnant. I'd have had my

shotgun

rifle

ticket book

statute books

zip ties

tool box

seizure tags

extra five gallons of gas

ATV ramps and

a winch.

I was probably coming home from a bear call. It might have been one of those nights when I was exhausted and almost falling asleep at the wheel. I was probably wondering how I would have a baby and be a game warden at the same time.

Driving through the mountains today reminded me of who I am, how hard I worked for my career goals, and made me miss the rather kick-ass wildlife law enforcement career.

The Kid in his carseat talked to himself about

excavators

big mountains

go that way now

and always about

Going On Bear Hunts.

Items littered the backseat in a radius around The Kid:

wet little socks soaked from the river

muddy shoes

crumbs from a bacon egg and cheese McMuffin

empty water bottles

inside out sweater

a pink sippy cup with tooth grooves on the lid

crumbs from Gold Fish Crackers and

a small blue blanket with gnawed edges.

I wouldn't trade the toddler gear for all the game warden gear in the world.