I'm Where I Want to Be...

December 19th, 2006 at 12:53am B Jon Traylor 199

My conversation with a friend over lunch several years ago was more like entertainment than small talk when he asked, "Well, whatcha know?"  My response was, "Well, if I knew more, I wouldn't be here!"

It had only been a few months before that I left a very good job and a promising future with a major company, based in Dallas, TX.  We moved to my wife's hometown in Kansas to purchase the local newspaper publication, a weekly newspaper, along with a weekly shopper publication. 

My wife and her family were very well known in those parts, and news of the newspaper publishing change spread rapidly.  In the matter of six months, I essentially took over all aspects of the publication, from editorial to copy to advertising, to management, to printing press operations, etc.  In just 6 months, we increased our advertising revenues almost 40%, mostly due to me walking door to door, turning on some charm, but mainly due to the excitement of a new publisher.  (Allow me to say here that the former publisher was probably the richest man in town, and also, in my opinion, the most self serving, egotistical, "dont' really give a damn about the community"... just give me your money type of publisher!

The preceding is another story all in itself, but surely a few chapters in my book, ... why? because it taught me how to accept getting totally screwed in a business deal, yet it also taught me how to move forward and accept that I actually did some pretty awesome things during that failure.

My friend, who is now in Dallas, was curious about my response.  He wondered why I mentioned I'd rather be somewhere else.  To which I replied... "Johnny, I found my little piece of Heaven on Earth... and I want to be there, or at least very close."

My wife and I had realized that we had not taken any time off since our honeymoon two years before in Cozumel.  We both worked hard, and we both made decent money, yet we both had not had a vacation.  So, we began planning for a vacation, far away from traffic, noise, sirens, congestion, televisions, phones, etc.

With the help of what, at the time I called the Information Super Highway, better known today as the internet... I found a rustic old miner's cabin, on the side of Mt. Elbert, Colorado's tallest peak, tucked away as far away from traffic and city congestion as possible!

A rolling stream was only a stone's throw away from the front porch, and I'll admit to catching my fair share of brooks and rainbows on pretty much nothing.  I could see the the monster magnum pescado buck daddies hiding behind the rocks, seeking refuge from the fast moving current, yet I couldn't lure them.

The old and weathered sign on the front porch read "Ol' Prospector."

 My wife and I spent many an hour relaxing on the front porch, reading books, etc. as we watched the sun roll up the side of the mountains toward the bare rocky peaks.  The golden colored Aspens would light up the face of the mountains like wildfire as the echoes of bugling elk danced through the valleys around us.  Occasionally, I would glance back at the weathered old sign and wish I had been an ol' prospector.

 Our cabin sat off of Independence Pass, about four miles west of Twin Lakes.  There wasn't much in Twin Lakes except for a Bed n' Breakfast, a general store with a lone gasoline pump and some basic grocery necessities, as well as an antique shop which doubled as a post office.  (And yes, I'm still trying to buy this place, because its perfect!)... been trying for 10 years now.. hopefully the lawyer son will head back to the big city and sell it to me!

There are a number of experiences on this particular trip to the Rockies I could write about, yet I'll limit it to just this one, the one I was telling my friend about over lunch outside Wichita, Ks.:

One morning I left out before daybreak with a day-pack style backpack strapped to my back, with a walking stick in one  hand and a fly rod in the other.  The collection of flies and spinners designed to lure trout occupied more space in my pack than my food and water did.  I don't guess this should be surprising, should it?

After hiking about four miles up into the high country and fishing every mountain stream and body of water I enountered along the way, my topo/contour map informed me that the trail I was hiking led straight to the Continental Divide and followed the Divide for a good stretch. 

On the map, I pinpointed a mountain lake resting at about 13,800 feet.  I was determined to hike to the lake and fish it.  Although, I realized when getting close that the lake was obiously sterile, too high up to have fish.  But I didn't care.  I'm a fisherman.  But what happened next made me NOT a fisherman.

The trail was very steep.  Stopping every 50 yards or so to suck some air, It took quite a while to complete the last half mile or so of the hike.  When I made it to the place on the map that indicated I was indeed standing on the Continental Divide, there was no mistaking where I was.  I was looking Elbert straight on.  I was beside Deer Mountain.  I could look to the west and see Aspen Mountain, Maroon Bells, Capitol Peak, etc. 

I followed the trail north for quite a distance, and I had no intention to fish at this point of the journey.  The views were breathtaking.  Yet, I had run out of film two hours before. 

I topped a ridge and stopped, astonished as nature's theatre portrayed an action drama about seventy yards in front of me.  There, along the rocky trail, hundreds of feet above timberline, were two rams fighting, head-butting with all the spectactular power and force which we have seen in television documentaries.

I stopped and watched the show for about 20 minutes while trying not to be noticed.  If only I had had a video camera, I could have financed our next vacation with royalties from National Geographic.

The show ended when the legs of one ram finally buckled upon the final collision with the stronger ram.  The winner of the battle disappeared over the ridge in one direction and the loser limped out of sight in another direction.

On my return hike, which proved a story in itself as an early September snowstorm came through, I was reminded of everything I love about these mountains.  As bugling elk sang and ghosts of prospector's past watched, I actually wept joyous tears filled with enthusiasm, and I offered thanks to the Man upstairs for allowing me to experience and witness what I had this day. 

And yes, i realized then, as I know now... there is a place I would rather be, a place I have always longed to be.

And I'm here now.  (I love Texas, but honestly, I don't think I could ever leave this place now that I'm here!)

B. Jon Traylor 

Entry Filed under: Media, Colorado, Travel, Family, Fly Fishing, Hiking, Outdoors, Independence Pass