"Go West young man, go West and grow up with the country." so said Horace Greeley. Or maybe not. There seems to be some controversy as to whether he actually voiced this phrase at all. But I digress....
I have been thinking a lot about "The West" lately; I have this growing feeling that I need to take Horace Greeley's advice and go there, go west. I don't even really know why. Except to say that something about the West beckons me. It has for a long time. Perhaps it is long forgotten memories of the West from cross country trips we took during my father's military career. It might be my romantic view of the West derived from watching dozens of Westerns or reading books about the history of the Old West. Or maybe it is simply wanting to experience the grandeur of towering peaks and beautiful alpine meadows, or just the "feel" of being in a special place again. But no matter the reason, something calls to me to go back.
I have only been out west once as an adult, back in the late 70's. A friend and I left Virginia Beach one October evening after work and drove 2 days straight through the Midwest and into Colorado Springs. We then spent a little over a week on a whirlwind tour of the eastern Rockies from Colorado Springs and up into Rocky Mountain National Park. And what a visceral experience it was from the beginning. It began with our drive through eastern Colorado on I-70. As we drove past dry, rolling grassy plains and dusty ranches, creeping ever nearer Colorado Springs, I began to see what appeared to be a pyramid shimmering in the distance. Keep in mind that we were driving through the Great Plains at an elevation of +/- 5000 feet. My brain was telling me that this is higher than most of the "mountains" to which I am used to, so how can something be that big....
As we drove on I remember feeling the anticipation seeing the Rockies and then being overcome with wonder by the sight of the 14,110 foot Pike's Peak looming on the horizon. It began to fill up the windshield as we approached Colorado Springs. On into town we went, suddenly confronted by rows of massive peaks all around. I could barely contain my excitement. After we got settled we drove to the top of Pike's Peak, a harrowing drive complete with a 12.5 mile stretch of gravel road (I use the term "road" loosely, it was more of a path), containing hairpin switchbacks and, oh, NO guard rails to keep you from plunging thousands of feet should you miss-judge a corner. I was the passenger and numerous times I grabbed the door handle as I looked out my side window only to see nothing but air. I swear that road is so narrow that several times as we passed a vehicle coming down, several inches of our tires were hanging off the edge of the road. But in the end making it to the top was an amazing adventure. And the view is one I'll never forget.
The rest of the trip brought other wonderful gasps of wonder and awe. And I had witnessed only one little corner of an immense expanse of real estate that comprises the West. I was hardly believing how fast the time went, and how much more there was to see. It was a trip that began to fan the sparks of a nascent love affair with the West. I began to wonder if I should move there as my friend later did. But I didn't. Other things were more important, or so it seemed at the time.
Now, those "important" things have passed. Could be "middle age" has me thinking about time and how quickly things can change. So it just seems like a good time to revisit my thoughts of exploring the West. I think I need another adventure. Maybe I'll explore just a little at first, as finances and time allow. But maybe while I'm exploring I will find a place that feels "right", and just maybe I will find myself listening more and more to Horace Greeley and go West...and call it home.
The rest of the trip brought other wonderful gasps of wonder and awe. And I had witnessed only one little corner of an immense expanse of real estate that comprises the West. I was hardly believing how fast the time went, and how much more there was to see. It was a trip that began to fan the sparks of a nascent love affair with the West. I began to wonder if I should move there as my friend later did. But I didn't. Other things were more important, or so it seemed at the time.
Now, those "important" things have passed. Could be "middle age" has me thinking about time and how quickly things can change. So it just seems like a good time to revisit my thoughts of exploring the West. I think I need another adventure. Maybe I'll explore just a little at first, as finances and time allow. But maybe while I'm exploring I will find a place that feels "right", and just maybe I will find myself listening more and more to Horace Greeley and go West...and call it home.
