The Best of Holidays

In 2006, my adoring and adorable parents invited me to their condo in Crested Butte, Colorado. I needed little time to mull as I had not seen them in ages and any chance I get to go to that mountainous state is a welcome one. Like any long voyage, there were complications and they ran the gamut from late arrivals to lost luggage. But, to focus on these things would be foolish given all that occurred.

It began with a leisurely flight from Fort Lauderdale to Gunnison with a stopover in Charlotte and Denver. Usually, this first leg of the journey is pretty boring, except that my flight departed pretty early in the morning. As we rose into the air, the twinkling jewel of the Miami/Fort Lauderdale cityscape unfurled in all it's technological glory. Soon, though, only the scintillating lights of rural communities passed below. After this, was a spectacular sunrise that nature provides only to those who are aloft. If you've never seen a sunrise or sunset like this, I advise my reader strongly to schedule a north/south flight specifically for this purpose.

The Charlotte Terminal that I've always been through is a little nondescript, but it's organized, clean and efficient. It wasn't long before I was back in the sky. Flying to Denver is no small hop and a person needs a number of different distractions to pass the time. Many on the jet with me chose the Valium method but I think it's a shame to sleep while soaring on aluminum wings at 400+ MPH. I watched the the clouds takes on whole new facets from above and sometimes from within. The huge tracts of......agriculture arranged in geometric shapes astound with their scope. I thought of the hard working, plain spoken farmers of our nation who produce our clean, pure food in staggering variety and massive abundance. When the slow moving portrait of the landscape below begins to bore, I usually turn to a book, and then there's usually a (bad) movie, which I tend to ignore. A snack and a strong drink later, I begin to see the roughshod landscape of the mid-west, and that most welcome of white stuff covering the beige of the dead grass below: snow. When this happens I know Denver is close at hand.

Denver International Airport is a sight to behold. Huge spaces, many floors, stores, restaurants, bars, a video game joint, and several ice cream shops dominate the place. Large to massive pieces of art, aircraft hung from the ceilings, and even a stained glass crab are thick through the place. A traveller almost never spends very long here, though. Soon I was waiting at the gate for a small twin turbo-prop to take me and my grandmother over the mountains to Gunnison.

Generally, the smaller the aircraft, the bumpier the ride. Not so on this day for my grandmother and me. The uncharacteristically smooth flight was accompanied by crystal clear skies that allowed us to look upon the grandeur of the wilderness below. It was white and brown, graggy and barren, icy and beautiful. No words can describe the dusky white green that stands of snow covered spruce take on from a distance. My grandmother, pleasant and jovial, was excellent company on the flight as I waxed philosophical about the hardships of centuries past down below.

After we land, my warm and excellent parents are there to greet us with smiles and the sweet anticipation of the days to come, knowing that my uncle and cousin soon will arrive also. On our way to the condo, I found myself under the watchful, friendly eyes of the bare aspen trees, their branches bearing walls of fresh power, creating a soft, diffuse light all around us. It was just the beginning.

Looking back, I can remember thinking how great a time we were all going to have. And now, years later, I can say that while most things in this life are not as we would have them, or not as good as we had hoped: Everything that followed made my anticipation look like an understatement.