Colorado…2011 in Photos
By PK | January 11, 2012
Our seasons begin and end with snow. When I first moved here I was fascinated with taking pictures of snow, but I’ve found after several years, I’ve became a local. It’s a common occurrence that I now fail to photograph in March and April.
Playing in the snow with your best friend is always top on the list of outdoor winter activities. Don’t have a dog? Borrow one! Buddy, the border collie and blue heeler mix pictured, belongs to Dean, a friend of ours. I enjoyed many happy times playing with this affectionate dog. Wouldn’t mess with this girl while Buddy is around!
Fences? What fences? In the winter when the snow is layered high, fences hold no boundaries….
Snow packed roads, glistening snow, and pine trees shivering on an evening drive through Routt County.
Ah….spring has sprung and with it begins Mud Season when hip boots take on a different meaning. And I’m not talking about trout fishing. Do you know what happens to all this beautiful powder come spring? It isn’t pretty! They don’t call it Mud Season for the halibut. (g-rated here) I don’t photograph that either.
May and June are the months of rebirth. A slow, country drive around the county yields many surprises as wildlife begins to once again fill the landscape with their beauty.
An American Bald Eagle, strong and brave, visiting Routt County.
Ride the Rockies as they cycled their way to Steamboat Springs on a warm June day.
On hot, summer days……I count sheep. Just kidding, but I do love watching them in the spring as their young frollick and play.
Devil’s Graveyard Mesa is located just north of Yampa, Colorado on Hwy 131. It’s surrounding buttes and cliffs are picturesque and their oddity transform the landscape dramatically.
Springtime and seeing elk cows with their calves brings a smile to anyone’s face.
Meet Dobson, Blogging Us’s new mascot, in training with his camouflage leash and harness.
In the West, you must protect your pets from the wildlife. So Dobson wears only the best, GHOST camouflage.
Spring and Summer rains will pop up unexpectedly. And with those showers bring the high mountain beauty for which Colorado is famous.
The pines renew the forest with their sprouts of cones.
Strange, wonderful wildflowers dot the landscape.
And Columbines are plentiful….
as the Indian Paint Brush fires up the beauty with their delicate red flowerettes.
The natural combination of a bountiful wet spring sets forth in the high pastures.
And the mighty warrior shall explore this land with new beginnings….
Elk, yearlings, and calves enjoy the new grass in the Yampa Valley.
Who could pass up the opportunity for a small town parade on the 4th of July? Such was the case in Yampa, Colorado…the gateway to the Flat Top Wilderness.
Pioneers and marching bands…..honoring the heritage of Yampa. In 1885, William Bird from Tennessee came to the Yampa Valley, took one look around and decided to stay. William Bird is the Father of the Town of Yampa to this day! More on William Bird further down.
South Routt County High School FFA, Soroco. I’m very proud of these youths!!
Oh yeah…..mountain climbing at street level!
But the best event folks line the street……
Yampa’s Western-Style Polo is quite the spectacular event you’d expect to see in a small hometown setting.
Even if you get knocked off your horse, you can still play.;….too funny!
William Bird’s sod-roof house is still standing north of town surrounded by the Devil’s Graveyard Mesa, it’s craggy buttes, and back-grounded against the Flat Top Wilderness.
Amid towering snows and howling winds from the Flat Top Wilderness, she stands…
Fishing is always a favorite pastime in the summer up in northwest Colorado. But sometimes, you just don’t get to pick who your fishing partner is…..
Something tells me, I should be where he is, and he should be were I’m at…..
Elk Reservoir, north Routt County….
Who could pass up being here? Elk Reservoir again.
The Colorado River and Union Pacific Railroad twisting and turning along the gorge in northern Eagle County, Colorado along Hwy 131.
We’re a volunteer for Find A Grave, so I included some special, rare and unusual photographs. When I sent this photo to the person who requested it, there was no doubt to him what this photo showed. His ancestor had a permanent cross marking his spot.
Wooden markers was once the only option for a memorial in the olden days.
A lonesome, forgotten pioneer cemetery…
A Cowboy lives and dies …
And when the land belonged to him…..
Among vast skies, tall mountains lies the Yampa Valley.
Ranch Country…
One of the most unusual bridges I’ve encountered…..it’s one way to get your sheep across the Colorado River!
The Aspens start turning their shades of yellow and gold when the night temps begin to fall.
And one of my most iconic photos of Eagle County for 2011 is…..
The Colorado River….strolling along on a sunny, bright fall day.
A full Harvest Moon rises above Kremmling, Colorado.
What else would stop traffic commuting to work in Steamboat on a crisp, fall day? A large herd of elk, of course. “Okay, Ralph, they’re honking their horns behind you!”
It wasn’t the elk or Ralph this time that stopped traffic on Hwy 131. At some time or another, you’ll get caught up in a real cattle drive…..only one word to describe….awesome!
Get them doggies, Cowboy!
First snow of Winter 2011 came one October day.
So, as the elk cross the road, so shall our roads cross. Hope you enjoyed our Colorado year in photos. We wish you many Happy Days ahead as you travel down your crossroads.
Topics: Colorado | 13 Comments »
2011 Colorado Big Game Bow Season opens Saturday
By PK | August 26, 2011
It’s that time of year that my partner and I count the days till opening season. The Elk Hunt, beginning Saturday, August 27, 2011 at approximately four a.m., again at the head of the Great Pasture, will commence as scheduled. Rain, snow, sleet or hail will not deter us from the first day of elk hunting in these great Rocky Mountains where we call home. However, I don’t think we’ll be worrying about the first four types of weather, as lately it’s been in the upper 70s to low 80s with scattered thunderstorms.
Moose is more prevalent than in previous years, so be careful of your target, warns the Colorado DOW. I haven’t seen many around South Routt County and northern Grand County as has been reported in the Steamboat Springs area. There’s also been many bear sightings/encounterments, so keep food secured.
Since last elk season where we hunt, they carved a new road. Not many of us were thrilled with this new road as we felt it would disturb the herd that summers there. I was pleased to see elk was still in the vicinity mid June, as I snapped this shot of elk cows with their calves.
The new road offers some spectacular views, much higher than the old road. You can see in the photograph the old road below us.
One thing for sure, whether it’s the high road or the low road, Ralph (aka Dalton) and I will be at the juncture of those two roads tomorrow morning long before the sun will be shining.
Good Luck to all you Elk Hunters…
PK
Topics: Wildlife and Hunting | 968 Comments »
God’s Amazing Facts
By PK | August 14, 2011
Thanks, Mike, for this re-post!!!
Fascinating, I’ve never given most of
this a thought!!!!
God’s accuracy may be observed in the
hatching of eggs.
For example:
-the eggs of the potato bug hatch in 7 days;
-those of the canary in 14 days;
-those of the barnyard hen in 21 days;
-The eggs of ducks and geese hatch in 28 days;
-those of the mallard in 35 days;
-The eggs of the parrot and the ostrich
hatch in 42 days.
(Notice, they are all divisible by seven,
the number of days in a week!)
God’s wisdom is seen in the making of
an elephant…
The four legs of this great beast all bend forward
in the same direction. No other quadruped is so made. God planned that
this animal would have a
huge body, too large to live on two legs…
For this reason He gave it four fulcrums so that it
can rise from the ground easily.
The horse rises from the ground on its two front legs first.
A cow rises from the ground with its two hind legs first.
How wise the Lord is in all His works of creation!
God’s wisdom is revealed in His arrangement of
sections and segments, as well as in the
number of grains.
-Each watermelon has an even number of
stripes on the rind.
-Each orange has an even number of segments.
-Each ear of corn has an even number of rows.
-Each stalk of wheat has an even number of grains.
-Every bunch of bananas has on its lowest row an even number of
bananas, and each row decreases by one, so that one row has an even
number and the
next row an odd number.
-The waves of the sea roll in on shore twenty-six to the minute in all
kinds of weather.
All grains are found in even numbers on the stalks,
and the Lord specified thirty fold, sixty fold,
and a hundred fold - all even numbers.
God has caused the flowers to blossom at certain
specified times during the day, so that
Linnaeus, the great botanist, once said that
if he had a conservatory containing the right
kind of soil, moisture and temperature, he could tell the time of day
or night by the flowers that were open and those that were closed!
The lives of each of you may be ordered by the Lord in a beautiful way
for His glory, if you will only entrust Him with your life. If you try
to regulate your own life, it will only be a
mess and a failure.
Only the One Who made the brain and the heart
can successfully guide them to a profitable end.
I HOPE YOU FIND THIS AS
FASCINATING AS I DID
……WOW!!!!
May God Bless You In Ways You Never
Even Dreamed Today!
Topics: Uncategorized | 2037 Comments »
White, Female, 52 yrs old, and My First Elk
By PK | August 29, 2010
It’s 2:30 am and the alarm goes off. Ralph softly calls my name to wake me. I shot up out of bed, my adrelin pumping, my thoughts beginning to gather, but after that initial jolt, my body says, “You think?”
We arrived as planned at 4 am, a crisp 37 degrees greeted us at the 10,000 elevation as we stepped out of the truck to begin our 2010 Hunting Season.
The full moon assisted us as we packed on our gear for the long grueling hike into the back country of the Rocky Mountains.
The Great meadow, later in day as we headed out.
The very first 1000 yards or so is one of the toughest when you gain 800-1000 feet in elevation until you reach the Great meadow. Now the Great meadow, long and kidney-shaped, is the entrance to many canyons that lead up to ridges or runs between ridges to smaller meadows. Our journey consisted of three canyons that lead off the Great meadow to the north, Jefferson, the smallest and first, Washington, the middle, and Lincoln, the longest and furthest. The path up the meadow was on the southern side, with a marshy wet ground further up the valley. The key is to know which canyon to start your hunt.
At the beginning of the Great meadow is where we like to make our first call of the morning. I cow called into the darkness. A lost cow looking for her herd.
No answer.
I called again, this time louder, listening to the echos further down the meadow.
Again, no answer.
“This is not good,” I whispered to Ralph.
“Yeah,” was his response.
I’ve been on numerous big game hunts, but this was the first time I carried a bow. This was My First Elk Hunt. I planned this for 2 years…. my first hunt. Ralph and I tracked a herd of elk every summer since moving to Colorado and I was headed towards them.
Headed out, that’s an old homestead behind me
Quietly (remember the echo), we began our journey across the meadow towards Lincoln, reaching a halfway mark where the meadow takes a bend. We were overcame by two guys riding bicycles. No kidding. Instead of hiking back, they were riding…..and they were headed to Lincoln. This is an isolated place, unknown to hikers, mountain bikes, and your usual outdoor activities here in Colorado. There are NO roads past the meadow, just cattle and wildlife trails.The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Namely, me.
It was now time to call again. We were about in the middle of the Great meadow. The two guys, Ralph, and I listened after I cow called again. This time a cow elk in esterous, loud, and looking for a bull.
I got an answer.
A good sized bull on top the ridge between Lincoln and Washington.
The two guys jumped on their bikes and pedaled away, there headlight beams bouncing on the path ahead of them.
We continued on until we were straight across from Washington. I kept thinking about those headlight beams, bouncing along, where no headlight beams have ever touched that I knew of until now. To me, that was not a good sign. I didn’t know how far into Lincoln they would be riding, but I just didn’t like the idea. So after about a 10 minute discussion with Ralph, we decided to change course and head up into Washington. There was only one problem. We had passed the trail to Washington quite a bit back and to backtrack would mean losing a lot of daylight. So, we decided to pick our way, in the dark, across the now marshy meadow, crawling at times (me, not Ralph) across the beaver dams to the entrance of Washington. It was now between 5:30 and 6 am.
As daylight was breaking, I cow called again at the entrance.
No answer. We started up Washington.
Immediately I could tell this path was not being used now. The last I’d been up it was in 08, having missed the entire 09 season due to illness. I was surprised at the overgrowth and fallen beetle kill pine trees, littering the path and area. It was dismal. We pushed on.
We were headed about 3 mile up the canyon to a path that leads up and over the ridge towards Lincoln. It was here we determined the bulls were bugling, running the upper ridge between Lincoln and Washington. We could hear the thundering of their hooves at time. It was driving us toward them, our excitement esculating.
We reached the path headed up over to the top of the ridge. I took one glance at the steepness of the path and declared a morning break. That glance also told me this path was being well used, and followed up my observations of recent elk tracks the further down the canyon we hiked.
We heard bugling back towards Jefferson, then overhead on top of Washington. Then again at Jefferson, closer, headed this way. Our excitement was intense, listening to all the activity.
We found the elk crossing, or at least part of it. The herd was big, spread out and moving southwest. Resting at this point was useless. Listening to all the bulls bugling ahead of us fueled our excitement into a frenzy. It didn’t take us long to regear and start the ascent to the ridge.
But that ascent didn’t last long.
Within 100 feet up the trail, we heard a bull bugle, close to us.
Crunching of fallen dead timber.
I took cover immediately.
We signaled. I was to call, he was to take the shot.
I cow called.
No answer.
Ralph cow called.
No answer.
After 10-15 minutes, I grabbed my bow and backpack and headed up to Ralph. The bull must have moved on. But more were headed towards the same ridge we were and we wanted to get set-up under cover on top that ridge.
But that wasn’t to happen either.
Another 100 feet up, more limbs cracking loudly. We dropped gear again, this time we were already prepared with our bows.
We heard a loud bugle close by, maybe 50 yards up the ridge. All we could see were the tops of his horns. Small brush and pine trees surrounded us in the dense of the forest. A big bull for sure.
I started shaking.
My thoughts were running amok. You can’t imagine the thrill and excitement from a thousand pound big bull close by and roaring. Then it hit me. I can’t shoot. I’m shaking too much. I’ll miss or maime. Not good. Then thoughts of my Daddy came to me. Words he told me on my first deer hunt with him when I was only 14. “A missed shot is a wasted shot,” he told me. Those words were actually from Grandma Hydrick, told to him as a young man hunting during the depression.
I took deep breaths. My hands and thoughts steadied, not totally, but considerably.
Then everything happened fast.
A crashing coming down out of the woods toward us.
I dropped my pack again.
Ralph and I were standing, both frozen, both poised for a shot.
Waiting.
Bursting out of the denseness was a fat, young cow elk.
She stopped about 35 yards in front of us.
She was broadside.
I was looking at her.
She was looking at me.
Ralph even whispered, “She’s looking right at you. Don’t move”.
Well, I did.
The arrow flew loose.
The cow elk jumped, twisted, and headed back from where she came.
The bull elk barked. I started shaking again.
Then quiet. No sounds. No limbs breaking. No thundering of hooves. Silence.
Ralph headed over to where the cow was standing.
I took my time. So many emotions were running through my mind again. The friggin’ bull was mad and he was probably only 25 yards when he barked. Very scary.
I headed over after a few deep breaths.
No arrow.
But no blood.
Was the arrow stuck in her?
Oh…..there it goes again. This time it was making my stomach do flip flops.
Deep breaths until I’m okay….a few minutes pass.
Then I found my arrow.
Ralph wanted to check it. Dried blood on it. Hmmm…..only 10-15 minutes had passed at best.
We checked about 25 feet circle around.
No blood trail.
We continued up the ’somewhat’ trail towards the ridge.
All was quiet.
Then Ralph spoke, “There’s a dead elk.”
“WHAT?”
Sure enough, there laid my defeated elk.
GAME OVER
At least until 3rd rifle season……
I want to thank everyone who took the time to read about my adventures and to apologize to my followers on this website for being so absent. As you read in this story, I have been very ill but now on the rebound. As more of our adventures unfold, I will post again. thank you, my readers….
Topics: Uncategorized | 1609 Comments »
Cowboy Story
By PK | May 13, 2010
Thanks Mike for this re-post.
Jake, the rancher, went one day to fix a distant fence;
the wind was cold and gusty and the clouds rolled gray and dense.
As he pounded the last staples in and gathered up his tools to go,
the temperature had fallen and the snow began to blow.
When he finally reached his pickup, he felt a heavy heart;
from the sound of that ignition, he knew it wouldn’t start.
So Jake did what most of us ‘d done if we’d had been there;
he humbly bowed his head and sent aloft a prayer.
As he turned the key one last time, he softly cursed his luck.
They found ol’ Jake three days later, frozen stiff in that truck.
Now Jake had been around in life and done his share of roamin’;
but when he saw Heaven he was shocked - it looked just like Wyomin’!
Of all the saints in Heaven, his favorite was St. Peter;
now this line, it ain’t needed, but it helps with rhyme and meter.
So, they set and talked a minute or two, or maybe it was three;
nobody was a keeping score - in Heaven time is free.
“I’ve always heard”, says Jake to Pete, “that God will answer prayers,
but one time I asked for help, and well, He just plain wasn’t there”.
“Does God answer prayers of some and ignore those of others?”
“That don’t seem exactly square - I know all men are brothers”.
“Or does He randomly reply, without good rhyme or reason?”
“Maybe it’s the time of day, the weather, or the season?”
“Now, I ain’t trying to act smart, it’s just the way I feel;
and I’m a wonderin’, could ya tell me, what the heck’s the deal?”
St Pete listened very patiently and when Jake was done,
there were smiles of recognition, and he said, “So, you’re the one!
That day your truck, it wouldn’t start, and you sent you’re prayer a flying;
you gave us all a real bad time, with hundreds of us a trying.
A thousand angels rushed to check the status of your file;
but ya know, Jake, we hadn’t heard from you in quite a while.
And though all prayers are answered, and God ain’t got no quota,
He didn’t recognize your voice, and started a truck in North Dakota!”
Author Unknown
Moral: Make sure He recognizes your voice!
Topics: "Laugh or Cry" | 1108 Comments »
