Rocky Mountain High

The Good Wife and I lived in Denver in our late 20’s and early 30’s. I was studying curriculum and global education at the University of Denver, she was improving the life prospects of inner city third graders. We became a threesome while in Denver and it was supe-cool to be back for a family wedding with both daughters.

In 1993, I would’ve never left Colorado if there were more academic positions there once I had it piled higher and deeper (PhD). 300 days of sunshine a year, beautiful mountains, shimmering aspens, 300 days of sunshine a year. Of course, I’d probably be dead from skin cancer by now, but no one lives forever. The sun was hotter than I am used to and there’s next to no tree cover compared to the upper lefthand corner of the country.

Like most places in the country, Denver has grown and changed a lot in a quarter-century. Especially downtown. Tangent. There were NO homeless people downtown. In Boulder either. Coming from Seattle, Portland, Olympia, that was really odd. Someone in the know, educate me. Where are they? Why?

We hiked a few times including in a crowded Rocky Mountain National Park, visited the first house we ever bought near the “U”, and attended a wonderful outdoor family wedding in Lyons. Two young, giving, caring people committing to love is a wonderful antidote for these cynical times.

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First house. Observatory Park, 25 years and one grown ass woman later.

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Flatirons, Boulder. Getting our hike on.

 

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