Colorado Adventure, Part 5

Okay, look, the last time I went four-wheeling I was in Geology school at Colorado State University, and I hung my Ford Maverick in the middle of a stream while I was on the way to check out an old mine. "Wait a minute," you protest, "the Ford Maverick wasn't a 4WD vehicle!" Right. I suppose that could have something to do with why it hung up in the stream.

Anyway, Doris has heard the Maverick story. Wonder if that was why she was a little nervous when I announced we were going to head for Kite Lake via Weston Pass? Let's just say the road ain't paved, and leave it at that. Speaking of leaving, I was concerned that I might be leaving my oil pan or differential on this little drive, but last time I looked under the car, they were still there. You want a high-clearance vehicle for this little trek.

The pictures don't do it justice--it's a very steep grade. And no, Doris isn't walking because she's afraid to ride with me--she's just shooting a few pix.

There were multiple places where it was so deeply rutted with large rocks sticking up in inconvenient places, I didn't think we'd make it. It wasn't until I was crawling carefully through a boulder field masquerading as a road that I realized, "There's no cellphone service up here. If I get this baby stuck, I can't just call AAA. Nobody will find us until June!"

Kinda sharpens the concentration, ya know?

I reckon this fella got his wagon stuck, and decided he'd just go ahead and stay, build himself a home.

The colors, the clouds, the sky up here are just knock-your-socks-off beautiful. The glory of God on display.

Just shy of the pass I took this panorama,  probably about 180 degrees. Click it to enlarge.

Finally, after passing through much fear and many deep valleys we finally gained the pass. Okay, they were really just deep ruts.

Temp was in the low 40's, and it was very windy. Flat out cold.

After many difficult  roads that tried the soul, the AWD, and the clearance (my Vue has 8"), at long last we arrived at Fairplay, from whence we traveled straight to Alma, our sights set on Kite Lake. Kite Lake would be our final stop on the Henry Marshall Tour portion of our trip.

Actually, we stopped first at the District Ranger Office in Fairplay where we were once again informed that the Kite Lake road was really more of a high-clearance-vehicle road. Oh, joy.

The road started off pretty tame, the scenery beautiful.

There's some active mining going on near the lake. The red is iron, there's a lot of yellow coloration as well, probably some sulphur minerals. I found some samples of iron pyrite in the area (an iron sulfide also known as fool's gold).

 The road didn't stay tame. We actually had to abandon the Vue several hundred yards shy of the lake--the ruts were too deep, the rocks too big.

It. was. COLD!!!! The wind was blowing hard, the temp in the 30's. Brrrr! Click to enlarge the image. Kite Lake appears in The Candidate, in a little episode Henry Marshall had there. It was fun to visit in person something I'd only visited in Google Earth up to this point.

On the way home we took Highways 285 and 24. Did not want to try Weston Pass in the dusk--no, thank you!

My next update will involve some Colorado ghost towns we've been haunting the last couple of days.

Tomorrow we are going to attempt Mt. Elbert, using the easiest walk-up of all the routes (the South Elbert Trail). We're going to get as far as we can, but neither of us are expecting to summit the peak--we just aren't in good enough shape. But we'll have fun no matter how far we get!

Colorado Adventure, Part 4

Friday was a planned cabin day, with a side trip to Buena Vista so Doris could do a software download using the free Wifi at The Roastery. Here’s a couple of nerds in their cabin, glued to their laptops. We are both enjoying downtime.

It was a beautiful day. This is the scene from the deck.

On the way to BV we decided to take Lost Canyon Road. In this country, if you see a dirt road, and it’s not posted, you can take it. So I did. It ended at a gate and a barbed-wire fence. This was the view down the road we’d just come. Click on the picture for a bigger view.

This sign was posted on the gate.

We decided not to enter the gate.

On the way home from BV, we encountered a herd of about 40 mule deer, including quite a few bucks.

Saturday was a cabin day as well, because we wanted to watch the Iowa-Perdue game (Iowa won! Yay!). I spent most of the afternoon sitting on the cabin’s deck reading Outlander Chronicles: Phoenix.

“Why,” you ask, “would you read your own book?” I know—it might seem a little odd, but I had to refresh the characters in my mind in order to begin work on Outlander Chronicles: Icarus. And, no, I have not done any writing yet. 

Sunday we went to a great church: ClearView Community Church. Really enjoyed worshiping our mighty God with this group of believers.

After church it was time to do laundry. We found a laundromat through Google called “The Missing Sock,” but managed to get lost finding it. Apparently they have multiple streets named Antero Circle. After finding the wrong one, we kept looking and found the right one.

Does the view from your Laundromat look like this?

Didn’t think so.

Well, Monday is the great 4WD adventure over Weston Pass to Kite Lake. But that will have to wait for Part 5 . . .

Colorado Adventure, Part 3

Tuesday morning dawned with solid overcast, wisps of clouds on the mountains, drizzle at our elevation and snow above the timberline. It was cold! This was taken from our deck.

Anticipating that we’d both experience a touch of altitude sickness, Tuesday had been planned as a cabin day—a day to get settled in and just enjoy being here. Eventually the weather cleared and the day turned gorgeous.

Both of us had mild symptoms of altitude sickness, headaches and mild stomach troubles. But the day turned so beautiful we decided that we’d try to hike a mile or so up the Black Cloud Trail just to check out our gear and to help our conditioning. We loaded up our daypacks with everything we’d be taking on longer hikes. By the time we were ready to go it was drizzling again. No problem—we brought rain gear! We decided to do the hike in the rain. As we gained elevation the rain turned to alternating sleet and wet snow. It was a great hike, the rain gear worked well, and when we returned to our cabin we were still dry—though it was still raining.

Wednesday was beautiful. We threw our packs into the car and drove down to the trailhead for the path to the historic site of Interlaken. Interlaken was a late 1800s resort for the well-heeled of Colorado. Click the link to read about it. It is an abandoned site accessible only by boat, or by hiking several miles in the wilderness.

On the way, around every turn, we had a good view of our nemesis--Mt. Elbert.

 Here and there we'd run across an aspen tree that still had its golden leaves.

We finally arrived at the Interlaken Historic site.

Various groups have banded together to do the work of restoring the site, but no work has been done on it for the last 5-6 years. It was deserted (though a few other hikers passed by occasionally). The Dexter Cabin, shown above, was unlocked with a sign encouraging visitors to enter. The restored woodwork inside was beautiful. 

After poking around the various abandoned buildings on the site, we ate lunch outside, and I took the opportunity to glass Elbert with binoculars. Managed to find the South Elbert Trail, which we will be attempting in several days. The first picture below is of Elbert. Notice the bald shoulder on the lower right, just above a dim grey stand of aspen. You can barely identify the trail we'll be on by the wisp of snow outlining it. The second shot is of that shoulder with a telephoto, and you can see the trail easily.

Interlaken was a great little hike, with a fascinating bit of history.

Thursday we hiked up the North Fork of Lake Creek, right below Independence Pass. In the distance you can see the road to the pass.

Although it was a short walk (a little over a mile) it was a little more rugged than the day before. We were both glad to stop for lunch.

 

I carried my fishing gear, to attempt some fly flailing. I mean, fly fishing. My dad was a master fly fisherman. I never attained to his level. The three pictures that follow, Doris shot. Family members will notice a resemblance to some shots we have of dad years ago. It was completely unplanned. I am wearing dad's fishing vest, though.

 Let me say a word about my feet. I had removed my hiking shoes, and was wading in a pair of sandal-type open footgear. It. Was. FREEZING! After a few minutes of fly flailing, I felt like I had blocks of ice attached to my ankles, instead of feet. OH, that was cold!

Ya wanna know how cold that water was? Take a gander at this photo, shot a mile downstream of where I was fishing. And YES, that white stuff is EXACTLY what you think it is! And I was wading in this water, essentially barefoot.

Anyway. Could not buy a strike on any of the flies. But a little later, further downstream, I did pick up a nice ten-inch brookie on a spinner, and threw another, smaller one back.

Frozen feet notwithstanding, it was a beautiful day.

Stay tuned for Part 4 . . .

Colorado Adventure, Part 2

Monday morning began in Fort Morgan. Grocery shopping was our immediate task. To our already grossly overloaded car, we added about two weeks of groceries, and continued west. I do believe that if we get snowed in, it will be Christmas before we need more food. Never, never go to the grocery store when you're hungry.

Never, never ride with me in a car in Colorado if I am driving. The last thing I'm looking at is the road. God protects fools, consequently I am not writing this blog post posthumously (which would be quite a trick).

First stop was part of our Henry Marshall tour. Here is the fateful Starbucks frequented by Tim Hardy. South Table Mountain is visible in the background.

Busy Jackson street is where Aries and Viper attempt to eliminate some more evidence, much to Hardy’s dismay. It is a little different than it appears on Google Earth. I mistook the bicycle lane for a third lane of traffic. Across the street you can see 1600 Jackson, Marshall’s campaign headquarters.

We grabbed coffee at Starbucks (without getting run over) and headed down US 285. After attaining Kenosha Pass, we stopped at the same overlook where Marshall paused.

This gorgeous view of South Park has been indelibly stamped on my brain since I first saw it in the 70’s—and little has changed (except the speed limit, which is now 65 mph, not bad for a two-lane road). South Park is huge: the scale of this high valley between mountain ranges is hard to comprehend. Take a gander at this panorama. You can click it (or any of the pictures) for a larger view.

In Fairplay we stopped to get a picture of the District Ranger Office, where Ranger Randall fired up the Snow Cat for a rescue attempt.

 Above Buena Vista we paused to get a picture of the picnic table where Jackson and Trujillo had their secret meeting.

The road into Buena Vista is visible from the edge of the overlook.

And last we stopped at the Roastery, where Marshall explains the impact federal money has on college tuition rates. Right now Dor and I are sitting in the Roastery doing online things (like this blog, etc). I'm enjoying a cup of coffee and a MASSIVE peanut butter cookie. Dor is enjoying a bottle of something called Izze. Don't ask. Haven't the foggiest.

On Monday night, we finally arrived at the cabin, grateful to the Lord for safe travel and beautiful scenery.

Stay tuned for Part 3 . . . 

Colorado Adventure, Part 1

You know you're a Cobb (at least the Chris Cobb edition of the Cobb clan) if you're always packing too much stuff. There is an exception to this rule, and that's when the Cobbs go backpacking. If you have to carry everything on your back, you tend to be a lot more careful about what you bring. Well, we weren't going backpacking.

Can you tell?


 This is the view from the driver's seat. Forget the rear view mirror, this baby is packed to the rafters. If we get into an accident we're going to be crushed by 900 pounds of luggage. But I should be optimistic: at least the impact will be cushioned--we'll be gently crushed to death. Okay, that's enough optimism for now.


You also know you're a Cobb, a son of Lewis Milner Cobb, if no matter how much you bring you can still make it all fit.

I did.

We're probably down ten degrees at the stern. I am convinced that we brought everything in triplicate. Doris tries to console me, telling me that we've got so much stuff because we're going to be cooking our meals at the cabin. I convince myself that she's right, lower the hatch, brace my feet against the back of the garage, and squeeze the silly thing shut. I am positive I heard the car groan.


We're off like a herd of turtles. On Saturday night we stopped at Iowa--twin  Diane's--and managed to disgorge a few items. Now there's actually room for Doris. Yay!

As we headed west early Sunday, we read half a dozen Psalms together, and a chapter of Isaiah. It was a good time of worship (at 75 mph). Needless to say, we didn't close our eyes during our prayer time.

Sunday was a long, long, long drive. Especially since we had to listen to the Broncos lose. Made it even longer. But finally there was a ray of hope: the Lord gave us a sign.

<sigh> What a wonderful sign!

And then more beautiful rays of hope!

 Sunday came to an end at Fort Morgan, Colorado. Tomorrow we would begin a Henry Marshall tour (seeing up close and personal the various locations I included in The Candidate) and end our day at the Mount Elbert Lodge in Rinker Cabin.

Stay tuned for Part 2. . .

An interesting trajectory

I am reading through the New Testament in my personal quiet time, and was arrested by the first sentence of Mark—which then made me think of the first sentence of Matthew, and then of the rest of the Gospels. More on this in a moment.

Now as I understand it, it is the content of the canon—not necessarily the arrangement of it—that is inspired. Such things as the chapter and verse divisions are not inspired, having been added well after the canon was complete as an aid to study. Nonetheless, the arrangement and items like the chapter and verse divisions often provide interesting observations (though not authoritative in the sense that the content is authoritative).

For instance, the number of books in the English version of the canon is sixty-six. Don’t get too carried away with this, because the Jews considered Samuel to be one book, not two (because it is a long book, it had to be divided into two scrolls, hence “First” and “Second” Samuel). Same with Kings and Chronicles. So the number sixty-six is an artifact of the Christian version of the canon. But even as such, there are some interesting bits of trivia to think about—like the arrangement of Isaiah, for instance.

The English version of the canon has sixty-six books, thirty-nine Old Testament books, twenty-seven New Testament books. Isaiah has sixty-six chapters. Contrast the major emphasis of the first thirty-nine chapters with that of the last twenty-seven. Check out how chapter forty (the first chapter of the final twenty-seven) begins—compare it with Matthew 3. Think about what the last twenty-seven chapters of Isaiah focuses upon. Neat, huh. [I would love to give credit—or blame!!—where credit is due, but I don’t remember how I happened upon this. Someone probably mentioned it in seminary, but I don’t remember.]

So back to the first lines of the Gospels. There’s a trajectory there that is interesting to me. Matthew 1:1 begins by identifying Jesus as the son of David and the son of Abraham—which means He is the heir of the promises to David and Abraham. Then Mark 1:1 identifies Jesus as the Son of God, which more explicitly links Jesus to the promise in 2 Samuel 7:14. But the statement is not necessarily radical, because there’s evidence that the Old Testament Israelites considered their kings to be sons of God—not in the divine sense, mind you—but in the sense that they were the theocratic representatives of the God of Israel.

But the first sentence of Luke is as though the reader is tracking with the trajectory and is getting a sense for where it is going, and is not quite ready for it. The reader steps back and asks the incredulous question, “Wait a minute! Did this stuff really happen in history? Is it for real?” which Luke then proceeds to answer in the affirmative.

And finally, the first sentence of John hits the target to which the other first-sentences were leading. It identifies Jesus as God. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

Anyway, it’s not profound, but it is an interesting trajectory.

Review of Sinclair Ferguson's The Pundit's Folly

This is an outstanding little book based on Ecclesiastes. Pundit’s Folly is not a commentary on Ecclesiastes, rather, it’s an expository application of it. Ferguson writes as a pastor-theologian, and you get the best of both worlds in Pundit’s Folly.

Ecclesiastes is the consummate book for the post-modernist lost in the foggy swamp of a meaningless life. Ferguson gently takes the reader down the road of futility traveled by Qoheleth (the “Pundit”), as Qoheleth searches vainly for something that would fill the emptiness of his life. When all the canyons and byways have been revealed as dead ends, Ferguson directs the reader’s attention to the poor wise man of Ecclesiastes 9:13-15, and applies the text to Christ, the wisdom of God who became poor that we might be rich. In the final chapter, using a wealth of resources from the Scriptures, Ferguson invites the reader to discover the proper fear of God (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14).

Never does Ferguson get into the weeds regarding who the Pundit is (Solomon? someone else?), or when it was written, or any textual issues or technical details of the Hebrew language. He takes the English text of the NIV and interacts with it as it is. He writes with the warmth and sensitivity of a modern-day C. S. Lewis, eschewing off-putting, academic jargon. The book is penned for the common man.

The result is a well-written, pastoral, sympathetic, eighty-eight page gospel tract that will be particularly helpful to people of the current generation. Read it yourself, and give it to a friend who is beginning to discover that life under the sun promises much more than it delivers. Five stars, highly recommended.