#Rifle Mountain Park Colorado

[denvermountainguiding]

How to Plan a Trip to Rifle Mountain Park Colorado?

Planning a trip to Rifle Mountain Park Colorado is an exciting adventure. This stunning destination offers world-class climbing, scenic trails, and serene picnic spots. Pack your gear, check local weather, and prepare for an unforgettable time in nature. Whether you're a climber or a nature lover, Rifle Mountain Park Colorado promises breathtaking views and outdoor fun for everyone.

[cjdsignsworld]

Home To Me In Western Colorado

Hi, Sweet Friends! I wanted to share a bit about the Western Colorado area and a few photos of the neighbors 😉 Montrose by CJD.Sign Photography Montrose is a home rule municipality that is the county seat and the most populous municipality of Montrose County, Colorado, United States. The city population was 20,291 at the 2020 census within a total area of 18.5 square miles The main road that…

[wanderguidehub]

Vertical Escapes: Climbing and Mountaineering in Rifle Mountain Park

Scaling the Rocks Welcome to Rifle Mountain Park, an adventurer’s paradise nestled in the heart of Colorado’s western slope. With its sheer limestone cliffs, world-class climbing routes, and breathtaking vistas, this iconic park invites climbers and mountaineers to challenge themselves and embrace the thrill of vertical exploration. Whether you’re a seasoned climber seeking new challenges or a…

[asprinterandamarathon]

BOTR - Day 19 - July 3, 2024

Today we had about 250 miles of driving to do. We continued east through Utah and all of its brown, barren landscape. In the distance on both sides of us we could see mesas, buttes, spires, and rolling hills. The occasional raven was about all the wildlife we saw.

As soon as we crossed into Colorado we started to see green shrubs and red clay hills. The first towns we came upon, Mack and Loma) were green with agricultural and landscaping around homes. The Colorado River provided the water everything needed.

In a little while we rolled into Grand Junction and the visitors center. The host there described some of the local features (Grand Mesa, Monument Canyon). We will definitely spend more time in this area in the future.

Beyond Grand Junction we drive through canyons carved by the Colorado River. The cliffs around us changed with every turn. They went from red clay colors to sandstone and granite. Some looked like they could send an avalanche of stone onto the highway at any minute.

70 East

Spectacular drive on 70 East from Grand Junction.

Making our way through the canyons, we stopped for lunch in Rifle, a quaint little town along 70. The area was thriving with lots of shops and restaurants.

Lunch in Rifle

Downtown Rifle.

Finally getting off of I-70, we did our grocery shopping in Eagle and then made our way to Sylvan Lake State Park. We were initially concerned that we were going the wrong way as we passed upscale homes, a golf course, and a number of high end shops. Finally it became obvious that we were going in the right direction when we started climbing a canyon and there were fewer signs of civilization.

When we arrive that state park we were excited to see that our campground was next to an alpine lake. We parked at our site and immediately went to check things out. Because the park is so close to town, it had a large day use area and allowed non-motorized boats and paddle boards. Even though it was July 4th, there really weren’t many people there. The breeze probably limited the number of paddle boarders, considering the few we saw had been pushed to the other side of the lake.

Sylvan Lake.

We spent the rest of the day walking around the lake looking for interesting birds and relaxing at our campsite. We watched the sun set over the mountains and then were chased inside by chilly temps. We climbed into bed with anticipation of seeing the stars when nature called hours later. They didn’t disappoint.

Us looking towards the lake at our campsite.

Us on the lake.

Looking from the other side of the lake.

Watching the sun set.

As an aside, it obvious that many of the towns we’ve passed had been founded based on the natural resources they were exploiting. They had names like Phosphorus, Sulfur, Gypsum, Leadville, and so on.

[christiangrest]

Hunting…What Optic?

Most every year I try and use a new or different rifle setup on one of my hunting trips or local hunting. Mainly I hunt white tail deer but every couple of years I head out west to once again try my hand at landing a elk or mule deer. There’s always something new or exciting that I learn along the way, whether it be during my preparations or during my actual hunt. Some of those things I’ve learned the hard way is weight, especially while trekking through the mountain terrain of Colorado. Ounces equal pounds and in the end with gear, rifle, optic… it all adds up and can cause you to be miserable. The other thing that I’ve learned over the years has more to do with my rifle setup and which type of optic do I intend on using. Not all optics excel at the same tasks even though some with do a variety of them very well.

One thing I’ve learned about optics and hunting is that some optics can add unnecessary weight to your rifle rig. This is why traditionally I’ve leaned towards Leupold and Redfield(owned by Leupold for a time) when setting up my rifle for hunting season. I’ve found that Leupold optics tend to be lighter in weight generally speaking. This season during my preparations I learned a somewhat valuable lesson in regards to optics and the type of reticle I might use for hunting. In recent years I’ve become more and more of a fan of an LPVO for hunting and especially deer hunting. They’re handy, tend to be light weight and have usable reticles for the task at hand.

For this season I have plans to use my Henry All-Weather rifle for some white tail deer hunting. My optic chosen for this task is the Brownells MPO 1-6 donut optic with the donut reticle. I did a write up on this optic as well as the features a while back. I love this optic so much for the price point that I recently picked up a second one. Brownells hit it out of the park with this particular optic in terms of price point quality and having a rather unique reticle design. The glass is superb as well, being Japanese glass and the optic being manufactured in Japan. The donut reticle on the MPO 1-6 is very useful for the intended purposes, but I quickly learned something during preparing my Henry .44 magnum levergun for deer season. The donut reticle does not lend itself very well for shooting tight groups past say 50 yards or so. It is a 1-6 power optic and the center of the reticle is a donut circle with a small dot in the middle, but not defined to be more precise. The Brownells MPO 1-6 donut will be great for deer hunting say within 200 yards which is actually perfect for the rifle I have it on as my Henry .44 magnum won’t be shooting past 100 yards or so at deer this season. In past years I’ve been using a Vortex Strike Eagle 1-8 LPVO and have confidently taken deer out to 200 yards and would not hesitate to take one further. Cannot necessarily say the same with the MPO 1-6 topped on my Henry .44 Magnum.

So when you’re considering an optic for hunting, definitely take a look at the reticle and be sure that it will work for your situation. Gear selected, including your optic can truly make or break your hunting experience.

[dertaglichedan]

Heavily armed man with guns, ammo and explosives found dead inside popular Colorado amusement park

Suspect was armed with an AR-style rifle, semi-automatic handgun, multiple magazines with ammunition, and explosives

A heavily armed man who appeared to be planning to shoot up a mountain top amusement park at Glenwood Caverns Adventure Park in Colorado, killed himself before carrying out his plan, according to authorities.

The Garfield County Sheriff’s Office said park officials found the 20-year-old man dead inside the park on Saturday morning before opening to the public.

Authorities said the man apparently broke into the park while it was closed, adding he was armed with an AR-style rifle, a handgun and explosives.

The Haunted Mine Drop is shown in this July 2017 file photo at Glenwood Caverns Adventure Park in Glenwood Springs, Colo. The Haunted Mine Drop is billed as the first drop ride to go underground, plunging riders 110 feet inside Iron Mountain. An investigation is underway after a 6-year-old girl on vacation with her family died after "an incident" occurred Sunday, Sept. 5, 2021, on the Haunted Mine Drop ride.  ((Chelsea Self/Glenwood Springs Post Independent via AP, File))

The man was also wearing tactical clothing and body armor.

Sheriff Lou Vallario said a message was found written on the wall of the women’s bathroom where the man was found, which read, "I am not a killer, I just want to get into the caves."

The sheriff could not verify whether the man who was found dead wrote the message.

[rebelsandtherest]

Final Frontier

My Day 6 submission for @historical-hetalia-week​!

Title: Final Frontier

Summary: He didn't know it, but Alfred F. Jones was about to make what he would later describe as the best mistake of his entire life. A simple mistake of engineering leads to a grand adventure that leads Alfred closer the things he loves most, and the places he can never truly leave behind. Written for Historical Hetalia Week 2021.

Content Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3,406

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Huntsville, Alabama, USA 1996

He didn't know it, but Alfred F. Jones was about to make what he would later describe as the best mistake of his entire life. Considering that he'd celebrated his 388th birthday shortly before making the mistake, this was no small accomplishment. Small or not, however, it passed by in an instant.

"Hey Jones," Harvey knocked lightly on the open door frame even as he leaned in, broad striped tie swinging to the side. "The writers sent me, you got their specs ready yet?" Alfred looked up at Harvey through his double-bridged glasses, and then back around at his desk, which was covered in papers.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I've got it here." He elbowed a stack of computer code out of the way and rifled through a pile of floppy disks before uncovering a thick, bound report. He yanked it out from underneath a book. "Here ya go."

Harvey took the report.

"Thanks, man."

"Sure." Alfred turned back to his work.

Mistakes, it must be said, can go undetected for quite some time.

-----------------------

Cheyenne Mountain, El Paso County, Colorado, USA 2008

Alfred's phone began ringing while he was carrying a heavy box to his car.

"Shit," he breathed, and glanced around to make sure no one was looking before balancing the box in one hand, never once breaking his stride. He fished the phone out of his pocket and flicked it open without checking the number. "Hello?"

"Mr. Jones," said the caller. It was a man, and he sounded bureaucratically annoyed in the way that only government officials can. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Uh, sure," Alfred frowned, pressing the phone to his shoulder and balancing the box on a hip to unlock his trunk. He set the box inside and picked up the phone again, "who is this?" The man gave his name, which Alfred didn't recognize. He didn't know how to admit this, so he stayed silent. The caller sighed.

"The Administrator of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Mr. Jones." Alfred's eyes went wide.

"Oh shit—I mean, I'm so sorry sir, I, uh, it's, uh, hello," He put his free hand to his face, wincing. "What can I do for you, sir?" The man on the other end of the line chuckled.

"Well, Mr. Jones, I'll cut to the chase. I'm calling about a machine you helped build for us back in the mid 90s. Part of the Unity module, you remember that project?"

"Yeah, of course," Alfred could see more Air Force personnel coming out to the parking lot with their own boxes, so he ducked into his car and shut the door for some privacy. "What about it?"

"I'm afraid it's broken." Alfred's heart leaped into his throat.

"Unity is broken?!"

"No, but the machine you built is."

"Oh, thank God," Alfred breathed a little easier. The Administrator did not seem so relieved.

"It started malfunctioning earlier this year, and it's getting worse. We don't know why."

"Oh, gosh," Alfred rubbed his forehead. "That ain't good. Have the troubleshooters been able to isolate the problem?"

"That's just it, Mr. Jones. The manuals we have on the system schematics do not seem to be wholly accurate." In the silence and privacy of his own car, Alfred took a moment to look horrified as he realized what this man was saying. The Administrator continued, "A couple of million dollars worth of R&D and many more millions of taxpayer dollars to send the thing into space, and the manual we have isn't accurate. I've already spoken to the writers who edited the manual, Mr. Jones. One of them still had the report you gave her to work from. Her manual was written accurately to your report."

So it's your fault, you see, he did not have to say.

"Oh, Jesus," Alfred said, putting his head into a hand.

"So I was hoping you might have a good memory. Are you in D.C. by any chance?"

"No, sir, I'm out in the rockies, they're moving NORAD out of Cheyenne, and I had to get my old shi-uh, stuff, and…" he realized the administrator would not care. "...when do you need me there, sir?"

"There's two very expensive research projects on hold while this machine is offline. The sooner the better. I will advise you, I've already spoken to the president about this."

Oh, well, shit.

"Yes sir. I'll leave as soon as I can, sir."

It was a good thing he was right next to an airfield.

Alfred travelled to D.C. and met with the administrator, conference called the engineers, even spoke with the ISS expedition crew as they described to him the errors they'd encountered, but for the life of him, Alfred could not identify any flaws in what he was hearing. He poured over his old notes and the finalized manual, he looked at old images of the machine and new ones sent down by the crew.

He could not make heads or tails of it. Neither could anyone else.

A month and a half later, he returned to Colorado in a flight of shame, and winced whenever he heard his cell phone ring. Over the next year, he flew to Texas, to Florida, to Georgia, back to D.C. He'd even flown to Ohio to speak with the technical writer who'd written the manual, to try to suss out the details of what he could have possibly gotten wrong, but she remembered even less than he did.

He was the only living on Earth being who had a comprehensive understanding of this machine and how it'd been built, and unless he could remember what he'd written down—or not written down—back in the 90s, that damn thing was going to be orbiting the earth as a multi-million dollar piece of space junk for the foreseeable future.

"God," he groaned to himself one night, cracking open a beer and half-listening to the American Idol theme wafting over from the television, "Just my fucking luck."

Solutions, like mistakes, can take some time to uncover.

-----------------------

Peterson AFB, Colorado Springs, Colorado, USA 2009

It was 6 A.M. and somehow Alfred Jones was vertical and conscious, already at his desk and scrolling through his email while he waited for the breakroom black coffee to finish waking him up when his cell phone began to ring. He let it ring a few times and took a long sip of his coffee before he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Alfred Jones?"

"Yes, who's this, please?"

"Yes, of course, I'm the new Administrator at NASA," the voice chirped merrily at him, "and I've inherited a bear of a problem that I hear you've been the main point of contact for."

Alfred wanted to cry into his coffee.

"It's… very nice to meet you sir, and yes, I'm… I'm afraid so."

"Well I'm hoping you might be willing to humor us one more time, Mr. Jones. If you were able to get your hands on that machine again, do you think you'd be able to fix it?"

Alfred considered it. He'd built the thing, written all the software. The manual and the schematics he'd written were apparently off, but if he could actually break the thing open and see for himself, he was fairly confident he'd be able to crack it.

"I think so, sir, but I was told no one had a copy of that machine, only prototypes and models. The only realone is in Unity."

"Hmm, yes, I'd been told that too," the Administrator said, almost absently. "Mr. Jones, the President tells me that you are a very accomplished pilot, is that true?" Alfred glanced around his office in the NORAD HQ, decorated with old USAF memorabilia, honors, and photographs.

"Yes sir, you could say that," he sipped at his coffee.

"Are you qualified for special missions assignments?"

"I have been in the past." Another sip.

"You ever been to space, Mr. Jones?"

Alfred nearly choked on his coffee. He recovered.

"No sir," he said, suddenly awake. "Why?"

"Would you like to?"

"I'm sorry?" Alfred squeaked. The Administrator seemed to find this funny.

"Old problems sometimes require simple solutions. As you said, the only real machine is two hundred and fifty-four miles above our heads. If your track record is anything to go by, I don't think you'll need much training. The President and the Secretary of Defence have already authorized it, I'm only asking if you'd be comfortable participating in expedition 20. And if you don't mind my saying so, Alfred: you break it, you ought to fix it."

Comfortable participating? Going to space?

"Of course," Alfred said, feeling as though he were floating.

"Good. I'll forward the memo to NORAD shortly. The simulation folks will be expecting you in Houston in three days, it'll be a fast turnaround from there until Launch Day."

"Right," Alfred managed, physically shaking with excitement. "Yes, sir, of course. Um, thank you sir, for the opportunity, I am really so flattered, I can't wait to-"

"Good," said the man happily. "Have a nice day, Mr. Jones, and we'll speak again soon." The line went dead, and Alfred sat there in silence, staring at the screensaver of his computer, which he'd allowed to grow idle. In the black space of the screen, he could see his own dim reflection, the faint outlines of his shoulders and face, the face of… an astronaut?

He fist-pumped the air so hard he nearly knocked over his coffee.

-----------------------

London, England, United Kingdom 2009

Arthur had gotten a cryptic text at 1:03 that morning and hadn't stopped thinking about it since.

Alfred Jones: r u free to skype later today

You: Today as in Tuesday or today as in Wednesday? It's barely past midnight.

Alfred Jones: u still up tho lol. wednesday

You: Wednesday is the Commonwealth meeting, I have very little flexibility. I should be free from 1300–1400 GMT, however. What on earth do you want to Skype for?

Alfred Jones: omg commonwealth! r mattie n jack gonna be ther

You: Matthew and Jack are both here in London, yes.

Alfred Jones: omg say hi to them for me - tell aussie he owes me a coke

You: What?

You: Whatever, it doesn't matter. Why do you want to Skype? I'm very busy.

Alfred Jones: issa surprise, innit?

Arthur had rolled his eyes.

You: I'm too busy for surprises, Jones.

He'd had no response after that, and despite checking his phone every hour on the hour, Alfred remained irritatingly silent. After a solid slate of meetings, the clock was coming up to 1300, and with considerable grumbling, Arthur found himself lugging his computer bag into an empty room in the conference center, even linking his clunky old laptop to an ethernet cable to ensure a reliable connection before opening Skype. He let the screen sit blank while he waited, glaring at Alfred's icon all the while.

At 1309, a call came through, and he jumped at the sound. Quickly adjusting his webcam, he opened the call. Immediately, a slightly grainy but instantly recognizable shot of Alfred Jones came through.

"What the hell happened to your hair?" Arthur found himself asking before Alfred had the chance to say hello.

"What? My hair?" Alfred moved closer to the camera, which seemed to wobble.

"God, it's huge. What did you do? Don't tell me this is some return to the Ferrah Fawcet days, I don't think the ozone layer can handle that." Alfred laughed at this, a big hearty guffaw, and it struck Arthur as odd how his hair clung to its shape amid the movement, not as though suspended in aquanet, but as though Alfred himself were upside down.

Something collided with Alfred's cheek, and he batted it away. It took Arthur a moment to realize what it was.

"Are those your… why are you dogtags…"

"Hmm?"

"Your dogtags are… hovering," At this, Alfred beamed.

"Guess where I am!" His smile was as wide as the sun. Arthur stared at him, looked around him, but there was little to go off of.

"I… have no idea." Now that he was looking, the background around Alfred did seem rather bizarre. Arthur couldn't have said exactly why it was bizarre, only that it was very white, and metallic, and oddly crowded.

"Ta-da!" Alfred exclaimed, extending his arms. Arthur stared.

"Ta-da what?" He asked. Alfred looked above himself, and then at the screen.

"Oh, shit, I guess you can't see. Hold on." He reached out and moved the computer, adjusting the webcam to tilt up. He double-checked the screen. "Okay, there we go. Ta-da!" He said again, spreading his arms once more. Between the "V" of his arms, there was a line of miniature versions of various national flags. The United Kingdom was represented there, as were a good dozen or more others: France, Japan, Belgium, Switzerland, Sweden… and in the center, the United States and Russia.

"Guess where I am!" Alfred said again, grinning so wide he was liable to injure himself.

Arthur frowned at the flags, which did not seem to lay as flags ought to, and at Alfred, who was moving microscopically, almost as if he were floating. His dogtags traveled upwards once more, threatening to bat him in the cheek again.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Arthur heard himself say. "You're not—you're not on the… you can't be on the fucking space station." Alfred looked like he might actually burst. In a higher-pitched squeak than Arthur had heard in eons, Alfred said, still smiling like a lunatic:

"I'm on the International Space Station!"

Arthur stared.

And stared.

Arthur realized his jaw was hanging open, and Alfred was still smiling. He put a hand over his mouth and continued staring.

"Does… does the president know?"

Alfred laughed at that. "Sure he does! He was the one who authorized it. C'mon! I wanna show you around."

And that was how Arthur Kirkland got a personalized tour of the International Space Station. He demanded an explanation, which Alfred gave him in fits and starts as he navigated the narrow, tubular hallways of the complex. That Alfred had helped build and program equipment for some of the original ISS modules came as no particular surprise, and that he had made some mistake back in 1995 that led him to being on the Space Station today was somehow less of a surprise.

"Only you would have incompetence rewarded with something like… like this," he said.

"Hey now! Be nice!"

Arthur was introduced to the crew, Alfred switching between English and Russian without batting an eye as he floated through the various modules, apologizing to other astronauts as he carted his laptop through tight spaces. His crewmates were Russian, American, Canadian, German, and Japanese, and all of them greeted Alfred with smiles when he addressed them in their native tongues.

"Careful, don't tell Mattie about this guy," Alfred said of his Canadian colleague in a loud aside, "He's rooting for the wrong hockey team."

"Hey!"

"Matthew loves all his hockey teams," Arthur retorted loudly enough for the Canadian astronaut to hear. "Don't let this American lunatic tell you differently."

"Aw c'mon, Artie! I gotta have something to argue about up here." Both Arthur and the Canadian laughed.

The tour continued with Alfred's constant commentary, offering overly-complicated and enthusiastic explanations regarding the functions of every computer, doorway, and strip of velcro. Alfred even gave Arthur a demonstration of how he and the rest of the crew slept in space, strapped into their place by a giant vest-like sleeping bag.

"Alright, I've saved the best for last," the space-farer announced.

"Alfred, it's very nearly 1400, I need to be heading back–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! I know, I really do, just… let me show you this, alright? It'll be worth it, I promise. We're coming up on Europe right about now. It's a clear day over London today, right?"

"Yes," Arthur confirmed, leaning forward in involuntary intrigue. Alfred floated downwards, the webcamera temporarily obscured by his chest. Then, the image erupted into an over-exposed view of the Earth's great curve, the sun's brightness throwing the camera into a tizzy as it focused.

"Here we go," Alfred's smile was evident in his voice. "This is the cupola," he said, as the camera focused on its subject. "Honestly? It's the best module in the whole station."

Sunlight was the first thing Arthur noticed. He was looking at Europe from above, sunlit and sparkling. Iberia and northern Scandinavia were covered in clouds, but the continent from France to Turkey was clear as crystal. Britain shone in the prime yellow of an afternoon sun, and the many lakes and rivers of Finland sparkled like molten gold in a way that no map for ten thousand years had ever been able to capture. Arthur watched, transfixed, as the light of the sun caught the twists and and oxbows of the Volga, and felt his chest swell with emotion.

"Can you see it?" asked Alfred, behind the camera.

"Yes," Arthur told him, quickly wiping away tears so that Alfred wouldn't see if he peeked at the screen. "Yes, I see it all quite well. God, but it's something, isn't it?"

"It's better at night," Alfred told him, voice going soft in its disembodied place. "You can see all the cities, the roads, the connections between places. It's like starlight, but we made it. It's like... even when the sun is gone, we instinctively want to sit among the stars. It's funny, you know," Alfred chuckled, and his voice was unlike anything Arthur had ever heard from him, full of peace and wonder both. "We spend so much time looking up at the stars, I never thought I'd live to see constellations on Earth itself. But they're just as beautiful, you know, as the ones we see at night."

Arthur didn't know what to say, so he covered his mouth quietly and kept staring at the video being funneled into his computer from hundreds of miles above.

"Anyway," Alfred flipped the webcamera around at last, "I wanted to be able to show you," He grinned, lopsided and bright. "I have a lot of work to do up here, but… I thought you should see that. I know space freaks you out, but… it really is quite beautiful." Arthur smiled.

"I know," he said. "Thank you for sharing."

"Arthur?" called a voice outside the empty conference room, accompanied by a loud knock. "We're just about ready to start again, you alright?"

"Yes, Matthew, I'll be right there," Arthur called to him, and turned back to Alfred. "I ought to go," he said.

"Yeah, I know, I'm running out of time on here anyway. Say hi to everyone for me."

"Do any of them know where you are?" Arthur asked, unable to keep his grin at bay. Alfred shrugged.

"It's all been such a whirlwind. I only got tapped a few months ago. No, none of 'em know."

"Shall I tell them?"

"Hmm," Alfred seemed to think about it. "If you do, tell 'em I said that their places all look incredible from up this high. We share a pretty cool planet, ya know."

"That we do," Arthur smiled, appreciating Alfred in such a philosophical mood. "Take some photos for me, will you, love?"

"Already on it," Alfred said. "Not every day a chance like this comes along, you know?"

"I can't believe you're actually there," Arthur chuckled. "Only you would get a ticket to space by doing a poor engineering job."

"Hey!" Alfred defended, "no one had ever built one of those before!"

"My point stands, Alfred Jones," Arthur retorted. "Have a safe trip back. Enjoy your time among the stars." Alfred was all grin.

"You got it," he saluted casually. "See you plant-side, Artie."

-----------------------

That Christmas, most all of Alfred's friends received beautifully framed prints of their homelands, captured in the sparkling lights of the solar system that no cartographer had ever thought to account for: rivers and lakes sparkling, clouded shadows and cresting coastal waves, northern lights twinkling over borders in a way that blurred the lines of politics and human arbitration.

Aim for the moon and you'll land among the stars, the notes all read, but when you reach the stars, you will realize that you've been there all along. There is truly no place like home.

-----------------------

Historical Notes:

1. The ISS was launched in 1998. The first portion of the station, Zarya, was built in Moscow. The first U.S. built module, Unity, was launched and attached to Zarya shortly thereafter. As is indicated, Unity was constructed in Huntsville, Alabama.

2. NORAD, or the North American Aerospace Defense Command, long operated out of the formidable Cheyenne Mountain complex in Colorado. In 2008, its headquarters was relocated to the nearby Peterson Airbase with the mountain fortress thereafter serving as an auxiliary site. It remains so to this day.

3. The Cupola, probably one of the most recognizable places on the entire ISS, is the multi-window observation deck of the station. Though this story takes place in 2009, the Cupola was not actually docked to the ISS until 2010, but I've taken liberties with the timeline for dramatic effect.

[allkindsnature]

Rifle Mountain Park, Rifle Colorado [OC] [800x1600] source:https://ift.tt/2XMmD2y

[chipcoffeyblog]

Looking for something fun and totally outside the (candy) box for you and your special someone to do for Valentine's Day? Something totally different and a little bit off-the-wall? Then keep reading! Most of us enjoy spooky TV shows and movies, right? We love that delicious adrenaline rush of being creeped out just a bit by thoughts of ghosts and the paranormal! If that sounds like you - and/or your special Valentine - then keep reading! Wouldn't it be big fun for you and your Valentine to spend a night (or weekend) at a haunted hotel? Just imagine what you might experience! And think of the bragging rights you'll have when recounting your ghostly adventures to family and friends! As part of my work as a psychic and medium, I have traveled extensively and stayed at some of the most interesting - and haunted - hotels in the United States. I like to stay at places that have a rich history, combined with stories about the spirits that reportedly roam throughout the properties. I have seen and heard otherworldly things that would send delicious little goose bumps up and down the spines of most people! Below is a list of some of the haunted hotels that I have enjoyed visiting and predict that you will enjoy visiting, too. New York City: The Jane Hotel - Some of the survivors of the sinking of the Titanic stayed in the building that is now the Jane Hotel in NYC's Greenwich Village. Guests report seeing ghostly apparitions and hearing the sound of sobbing . And the elevator often appears to have a mind of its own, traveling up at down between floors randomly. Guest rooms are inspired by luxury ship and train cabins and tend to be on the small side, many with shared baths. If you desire an en suite bathroom, choose to stay in one of the Captain's Cabins. Added bonus: You're in NYC! There is so much to see and do! Visit all the sites and see a Broadway show!

New York State - Catskills area: Burn Brae Mansion in Glen Spey, NY - Spectral apparitions and ghostly sounds are often heard by guests at this lovely bed and breakfast that was once the elaborate Victorian home of the widow of George Ross MacKenzie, third president of the Singer Sewing Machine Company. Other unexplained occurrences include doors opening and slamming shut; the sound of children playing; the sound of animals when no animals are present; and the sound of an organ playing, although there is no organ in the house. During my visit there, I distinctly smelled cookies baking in the downstairs area, but no one was baking cookies. Added bonus: The surrounding area is beautiful! Go for a hike, horseback riding, rafting, etc. Los Angeles, California: Millennium Biltmore Hotel - The ghost of Elizabeth Short is said to haunt the Biltmore. Ms. Short was last seen alive at the Biltmore shortly before her gruesome demise in 1947 and that still unsolved case has been dubbed "The Black Dahlia Murder." Soldiers who stayed in the building during and after World War II and young children are also said to roam around the hotel. Perhaps iconic stars from bygone Hollywood days pay post mortem visits to The Biltmore? Added bonus: Hollywood, with all its star studded sites, is close by...and so are California beaches! Atlanta, Georgia: Georgian Terrace - In December of 1939, this hotel hosted the "Gone With the Wind" Gala after the movie's premiere in downtown Atlanta. Clark Gable (and wife, Carole Lombard), Vivien Leigh (and future husband, Laurence Olivier) and other stars of the movie were in attendance. Some say that a gangland-style murder and other deaths have occurred here and there are frequent reports of ghostly activity occurring within the hotel. Added bonus: The haunted Fox Theatre is across the street from the hotel...and you're close to downtown ATL.   Austin, Texas Driskill Hotel - This lavish hotel, located in downtown Austin and completed in 1882, was built by Colonel Jesse Driskill, a cattleman who spent his entire fortune to build "the finest hotel south of St. Louis." He is said to haunt the hotel, along with a little girl who fell down the grand staircase while chasing her runaway ball and two brides who allegedly took their own lives in the bathtub of room 525, exactly 20 years apart. Added bonus: There are great places to eat, drink and be merry nearby. Do your part to help "Keep Austin Weird"! Denver, Colorado Brown Palace - One of the spirits that is said to haunt the Brown Palace is a young boy, dressed in Victorian era clothing, who has been seen rifling through the luggage of hotel guests. During one of my stays there, I returned to my room to discover that little intruder looking inside my backpack that was sitting on a chair! When we saw each other, we both gasped and he instantaneously vanished, leaving me startled and wide-eyed! Added bonus: The hella haunted Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado is about an hour drive from downtown Denver. The stately hotel was the inspiration for author Stephen King's best selling novel, "The Shining," which he wrote after he and his wife were guests there. The hotel has been featured on numerous paranormal TV shows. Kansas City, Missouri area Belvoir Winery and Inn - This cozy and comfortable, yet quite elegant, 9 room bed and breakfast, with its 1,500 square feet bridal suite, is located in Liberty, Missouri on the site of a huge former Odd Fellows complex. The inn was once an orphanage, so the sights and sounds of children who once called this building their home are regularly seen and heard by Belvoir guests. Numerous television shows have filmed at the inn and on the property, including Kindred Spirits, Ghost Adventures, Ghost Hunters and American Pickers. Added bonus: Have a glass or two of Belvoir's wines or your favorite cocktail at the inn's lovely bar located on the main level. And visit George, the inn's "mascot," who just happens to be a real skeleton! New Hampshire Omni Mount Washington Hotel - Located in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, this property is simply spectacular! The most prominent spirit that is said to haunt the hotel is Princess Carolyn, former owner of the hotel, whose lovely suite is now available for guests to occupy. The hotel's dining room has a permanently set up table for Princess Carolyn in case she happens to stop in for lunch or dinner.  Added bonus: Sightings of the elusive Bigfoot have been reported in the area! Soak up the gorgeous scenery! Take the cog railway to the top of Mt. Washington. Go skiing on the nearby slopes during winter months. Boston, Massachusetts Omni Parker House Hotel - Rich in history and hauntings, the Parker house is the birthplace of Boston Cream Pie and Parker House Rolls! The Kennedy family, arguably America's "royal family," often visited this hotel. It is said that future president John F. Kennedy proposed to Jacqueline Bouvier at a table in the hotel's restaurant. At one time, civil rights activist Malcolm X, Vietnamese revolutionary leader Ho Chi Minh and celebrity chef Emeril Lagasse were employees of the hotel. While staying there, I was confused when I encountered the spirit of John Wilkes Booth, the man who assassinated President Abraham Lincoln. My encounter finally made sense when the hotel's historian told me that Booth had frequently stayed at the hotel and had even practiced firing his gun nearby. Added bonus: Granary Burying Ground (cemetery), final resting place of numerous Revolutionary War patriots, including Paul Revere, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, is nearby    Tampa, Florida area The Don Cesar - Affectionately known as "The Pink Palace" and located in St. Pete Beach, not far from Tampa on Florida's west coast, this hotel, like others on my list, is said to be haunted by its original owner. Wealthy New Englander Thomas Rowe built the hotel in 1925 in remembrance of his unrequited love for a lovely Spanish opera singer. The star crossed lovers are said to haunt "The Don," as are members of the New York Yankees baseball team, including Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, due to the fact members of the team once stayed at the hotel during spring training. Other reported spectral guests include gangster Al Capone and World War II era soldiers who may have stayed (and died) there while the building was being used as a convalescent hospital for aviators and pilots. Added bonus: The hotel has a lovely Gulf of Mexico beach.  San Francisco, California Queen Anne Hotel - A charming Victorian era boutique hotel located in the Pacific Heights neighborhood. Both the public areas and guests rooms are furnished in an eclectic style. The hotel was once an exclusive boarding school for young ladies, as well as a brothel that housed "ladies of the night." The headmistress of the girl's school, Miss Mary Lake, reportedly haunts the hotel, sometimes unpacking suitcases, tucking guests in at night and singing to them while they fall asleep. The most haunted room is said to be room 410, which was once Miss Mary Lake's office. Voodoo queen Mary Ellen Pleasant lived across the street from the hotel in the 1800's and it is thought that perhaps her spirit also roams the halls of the Queen Anne. Added bonus: Enjoy all that The Golden Gate City has to offer! Ride a cable car; eat some great seafood at a waterfront restaurant; visit Fisherman's Wharf and the spectacular Palace of Fine Arts, built for the 1915 World's Fair. Portland, Oregon The Benson - A world class luxury hotel that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Built by Simon Benson and opening its doors in 1913, it is believed that Mr. Benson is the primary spirit who haunts the hotel. He is frequently seen on the grand staircase, in the hotel bar and dining room, and on the 7th, 9th and 12th floors of the hotel. A small and mischievous little boy, whom people assume is the ghost of one of Benson's sons, often appears and plays pranks on hotel guests. The ghost of a former porter who worked at The Benson is also sometimes seems, as well as the spectral images of a lady in white (doesn't every haunted property have a lady in white? LOL) and a lady in blue. Added bonus: Take a trip to see the nearby and spectacularly beautiful Columbia River Gorge and Multnomah Falls! New Orleans, Louisiana Bourbon Orleans Hotel - Once the location of the Sisters of the Holy Family's convent, girl's school, medical ward and orphanage, the Bourbon Orleans is reportedly haunted by the spirits of those who resided there during that earlier time. A Confederate soldier has also been seen at the hotel, as well as a lonely ghost dancer, seen dancing solo in the hotel's ballroom. The 3rd and 6th floors are said to be some of the most haunted areas. Added bonus: Laissez les bon temps rouler and enjoy all of the delicious and decadent delights that The Big Easy readily serves up! Savannah, Georgia East Bay Inn - This stately old building was built in the mid-1800's and once housed the offices of cotton merchants, as well as warehouses for cotton. In the mid-1980's, the property opened as a charming inn with 28 guest rooms. The rooms are spacious, with wooden floors, exposed brick establishing walls and high ceilings. A friendly ghost named Charley, a former worker in the building, allegedly haunts the inn. It is claimed that he is heard walking the halls late and night and sometimes will jiggle the doorknobs. Witnesses have said that lights flicker and some of their personal belongings mysteriously disappear. Room 325, known as "Charley's Room," is said to be the most haunted. Added bonus: Is there really anyplace in Savannah that isn't haunted? Visit them all! Walk along River Street. Take a ride on the riverboat. Put on your walking shoes and visit Savannah's numerous squares. And don't miss a visit to the magnificently beautiful Bonaventure Cemetery. San Antonio, Texas The Menger Hotel - The land on which the Menger sits is part of the historic site of the Battle of the Alamo. It is said that between 32 and 45 ghosts haunt the Menger. (Who came up with that number?!?) Among those ghosts are Teddy Roosevelt; Sallie White, a former chambermaid at the hotel who was shot nearby by her common law husband and died on the hotel's 2nd floor; and Richard King, a cattle baron who often stayed at the Menger and died in his suite on the 3rd floor. If you are brave enough, you can stay in the King Ranch Suite where Richard King died and sleep in the same bed where he took his last breath! Added bonus: Visit The Alamo. Walk along the River Walk. Dine in some of San Antonio's fabulous eateries. San Diego, California (Coronado Island) Hotel del Coronado - The elegant hotel, located on Coronado Island, has a resident ghost named Kate Morgan. Kate was a guest at the hotel in 1892 and killed herself with a gun a few days after an ugly break-up with her male lover. Guests at the hotel have reported seeing Kate's ghost walking in the hallways and along the hotel's lovely beach. During my visits to the hotel, I always hope to encounter the spirit of Marilyn Monroe, who shot the film, "Some Like It Hot," on the property back in 1958. Added bonus: While in the San Diego area, pay a visit to the haunted Whaley House in Old Town San Diego, where you can also shop at some of the area's charming stores. Washington, DC Hay-Adams Hotel - Washington socialite Marian Adams, known by the nickname Clover, reportedly haunts the Hay-Adams. Clover was an amateur photographer who died after ingesting some of the potassium cyanide that she used while developing her photographs. Her death was ruled a suicide, but some believed that she had been murdered. The ghost of Clover Adams haunts the hotel's 4th floor. Maids have told stories of hearing a woman sobbing, calling out their names and asking "What do you want?" in unoccupied rooms. Some guests say that visits by Clover's spirit are accompanied by the scent of almonds. Potassium cyanide, which caused Clover's death, is extracted from almonds! Added bonus: Visit the many beautiful monuments in DC, as well as The Smithsonian and nearby Arlington Cemetery. 

[denvermountainguiding]

Why Rifle Mountain Park Colorado is a Climber's Dream?

Rifle Mountain Park Colorado is a climber's dream, offering some of the finest limestone walls in the U.S. With routes for all skill levels, it’s perfect for both beginners and advanced climbers. Nestled in a scenic canyon, Rifle Mountain Park Colorado provides a challenging yet rewarding experience, making it a must-visit destination for outdoor enthusiasts seeking thrilling climbs.

[spectralarchers]

Two years ago, I was landing in Indianapolis, Indiana and was met there with an amazing friend, @kate-katiehawkeye picked me up from the airport, and with her, I took off into what would end up being a 21.500 kms (14.000 miles) long Roadtrip across 23 state lines and from one end of the United States to the other.

We slept in a tent, and experienced bears, bison and coyotes in the camp, but we also slept in at the haunted Stanley hotel (thanks for that, Stephen King), saw dinosaur tracks, aliens in Area 51 but more than anything, we saw the remaining glaciers in Glacier National Park. They will be gone by this time next year.

This is a non-exhaustive list of the things we saw:

🏞️ National Parks and Forests: Garden of the Gods National Park, Rocky Mountains National Park, Arches National Park (and a hike out to Delicate Arch), Mesa Verde National Park, Petrified Forest National Park, Monument Valley Tribal Park (it's not a national park, but is as important as them!), Grand Canyon National Park, Slide Rock National Forest, Lake Mead National Recreational Area, Death Valley National Park (and temperatures of 57'C / 127'F), Angeles National Forest, Sequoias National Forest, Sequoias National Park, Yosemite National Park, Humboldt National Forest, Wasatch National Forest, Grand Teton National Park, Yellowstone National Park, Glacier National Park (and its Canadian partner, Waterton), Little Big Horn National Monument, Mount Rushmore National Monument, Badlands National Park.

🏞️ State Parks and Forests: Finger Lakes State Park, Ray Robert's Lake State Park, Lake Arrowhead State Park, Palo Duro State Park, Clayton Lake State Park, Cheyenne Mountain State Park, Rifle Gap State Park, Mancos Lake State Park, Storrie Lake State Park, Redwood Forest State Park, Salt Lake State Park and Custer State Park (where they saved the species Bison!)

⛲ And all the other landmarks we saw along the way: Cahokia Mounds, the Gateway Arch, Black Jack Battlefield, Little House on the Prairie, Old Red Museum, Sixth Floor Museum (where JFK's shooter was positioned when the killing shots were fired), Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame, Clayton Dinosaur Footprints, Manitou Springs Cliff Dwellings, US Figure Skating Hall of Fame, US Olympic Center Colorado Springs, Denver Museum of Science and Nature, Stanley Hotel, Pioneer Cemetery at Glenwood Springs (where Doc Holliday's remains are buried, just as Kid Curry's), the 4 Corner Monument, Acoma Pueblo, Oatman AZ (where Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable had their honeymoon), Las Vegas, the Luxor Titanic Exhibit (with real items from the Titanic), Hoover Dam (no Transformers in sight, sadly), Area 51, Calico Ghost Town, Warner Studios, Griffith Observatory, Solvang, the James Dean Memorial (placed at the intersection where he lost his life in a car race), the California Academy of Science, Golden Gate and Alcatraz, Francis Ford Coppola's Winery, Utah Olympic Park, Sundance (where they host the Sundance Film Festival), Waterton, Buffalo Bill Museum of the West, Old Trail Town, Devils Tower (where they filmed Encounters of the Third Kind, which is shown every night at the camping center), Crazy Horse monument and Mammoth Site, the Corn Palace, as well as Elk Horn, Waverly (because that's where Hawkeye is from) and a whole bunch of other places too.

And, I got to meet some of y'all and those are days I will forever cherish in my memory ❤️

[ceramicskies]

Keep seeing posts about southern or midwestern gothic but like no matter where you go there’s creepy shit

Washington:

-near my grandmas house there’s a pass you have to go over unless you want to take a ferry across the river. Before I was born there was a wildfire and the trees didn’t start growing back till I was about 15? Don’t get out of your car at night or you’ll hear deep screaming echoing off the mountains.

-old railroad tracks in the forest with piles of railroad spikes still scattered

-Yakima

-take a picture looking up into a lighthouse and no matter how still you are your picture is gonna look like you were spinning in circles while taking it

- That fucking statue of an eye in Seattle if it’s still there idk I haven’t been there since I was 13

-the ladybug infestation of liberty lake where I also did a 9 mile hike in flipflops that took two hours and I don’t remember how I got back to my campsite

- the tornado siren in ritzville

Idaho:

-my uncles mom was in a cult and she kidnapped her daughter and he’s just getting back in touch with both of them

-I mean it’s next to Montana which is scary itself

-couer d Alene lake (no reason it’s just a big lake that scares me)

-every time I tried to go to this corn maze either someone got sick or the car broke down on the way and we’d be stuck at a gas station with the flickering lights for hours till a tow truck came so we couldn’t go

Montana:

-the silver dollar motel

-far cry 5

Utah:

-mormons

Colorado:

-one of the places I lived in was in a neighborhood where all the houses were connected by underground tunnels. I regularly had sleep paralysis where something would scratch stuff into my forehead. Haven’t had sleep paralysis since I lived there

-the Stanley Hotel ... Estes Park in general

-rifle

-the shadows the cliffs in grand junction make

-when mountain lions scream in your front yard when you’re sitting on the porch

-all the abandoned cabins in the woods with all their windows smashed in and graffiti and holes in the floor

-rifle falls where multiple people have experienced a “glitch in the matrix” including me and one of my old friends on separate occasions

-texans

-that one time an owl was sitting in the road and I thought it was a cat cuz my lights were too dim but then it started flying so I thought it was a fucked up levitating cat that was super fucked up

-this video my friend who lives down the hill from me sent me a couple months ago at like 2am

Nebraska:

-corn

[panninikarla]

by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

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Surrounded Islands

Biscayne Bay, Greater Miami, Florida

1980 - 83

floating pink woven polypropylene fabric covering the surface of the water and extending out from each island into the bay.

6.5 million square feet

-----

Wrapped Monuments

Milan, Italy

1970

wrapped the monument to the king of Italy Vittorio Emanuele II and the monument to Leonardo Da Vinci.

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Valley Curtain.

Rifle, Colorado

1970 - 72

Installed between two Colorado mountain slopes. 

200,200 square feet of woven nylon fabric.

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The Gates

Central Park, New York City

1979 - 05

Free-hanging saffron-colored fabric panels

7.503 gates.

-----

Wrapped Trees

Fondation Beyeler and Berower Park, Riehen, Switzerland

1997 - 98

592,015 square feet of woven polyester fabric (used every winter in Japan to protect trees from frost and heavy snow) and 14.3 miles of rope.

[prairiesongserial]

6.1

Things were still tense between her and Val, to Friday’s disappointment. Outpost had been horrible, yes, they could both agree on that, but they had had to agree to disagree on everything else. And that uneasy peace had not been reached before several arguments. Val was even more pigheaded than she was, which was saying something. He’d been sulking for days.

Friday pulled over to the side of the road and dug the map out of her shirt. As soon as the bike was parked, Val walked as far away from her as he possibly could - to the point that, for a moment, she was worried he was just going to walk home to Vegas. From Colorado. At least she thought they were in Colorado. Hence the break to check the map.

But no, after a point Val stopped walking and disappeared into the edge of the woods. The vegetation was strange here, wherever they were. Friday had never seen anything like it. There were trees, thin and tall, spread out almost like hair standing up on the arm of the world. And the bike had been going through more gasoline than Friday had accounted for. This country was hilly, and every time the bike crested a small hill, she would see a glimpse of mountains in the distance. More hills meant more fuel. And that meant taking real good care not to waste a drop. If Friday went the wrong way, they could end up walking the bike through unfamiliar territory, and Friday didn’t take very kindly to that idea.

Val emerged from the trees, having done his business, and paced the road in silence. Well, fine by her. Friday was supposed to be concentrating on the map, anyway.

The road diverged ahead into two paths, but the split wasn’t on her map as far as she could tell. The roads were dirt, the same size, the same elevation. Friday folded the map back up and tucked it away. The sparse woods rose around them from all directions.

“What’s the matter?” said Val.

“I don’t know where to go,” Friday said easily. She walked up and down the road, searching for some clue. “I don’t know why they needed two roads, each goin’ the same way. Why would they do that, do you think? You think one of them goes to a town, dead-ends?”

Friday was relieved to see Val interested in the problem. He stalked around the trees, clearing old leaves from the edge of the road.

“Why are you doing that? What are you looking for?”

Val shook his head.

Then, just at the fork, he got excited - actually smiled at her. Friday gave him a crooked, confused smile in return.

“Here - here, look!” he said. He pointed at the ground.

“A hole,” said Friday. “Okay? Looks like a snake burrow to me.”

“Post hole. It’s old and weathered away. There used to be a sign here.”

There was a pause. Then, Friday laughed. She couldn’t help herself.

“That’s really helpful,” said said, catching her breath. “I’m glad we spent the time to do that.”

Friday took a second to think. They weren’t going to find any clues just standing around. They were going to have to explore a little - preferably on foot, while the light was with them.

“Come on, let’s walk a mile down this one,” Friday said, pointing to the path on the right. “If there’s a town, it’s not going to be more than a mile from the fork, so we won’t have wasted too much time. Well, probably. And if the road doesn’t dead-end, that’s the way to go.” She could see Val gearing up to argue, and cut him off. “We’ll go on foot so we’ll be quieter, less likely to attract attention. And if need be, we duck into the woods and hide. Help me get the bike into the woods.”

“What…”

Friday was already in motion, dragging the bike off the road.

“Come on, cover it in leaves. Help me out,” Friday panted. Stiffly, Val helped her.

Soon, they were walking down the rightmost path, guns at their sides and the bare essentials on their backs - little more than their new canteens and the money they had left after buying new bedrolls in the last town. Friday still wasn’t happy about the deal she’d gotten on them. But it was hard to play it cool when you rolled into town filthy, weak with hunger, and reeking of gasoline and gunpowder.

“It smells different, here,” Friday mumbled. “I think it’s the leaves. Since you started kicking them up…”

“Decay,” said Val. He cleared his throat. “It’s been a long time for me. Since I was someplace like this.”

You did a lot of travelling?” Friday said, leaping at the chance for a conversation. “I knew you weren’t from Vegas, but - what’s that?”

Almost invisible in the gray trees, there was a structure. It had probably been white at some point in its life, but now it was as gray as the wood. It was a narrow building with broken windows and a steep roof peaking in a bell tower.

“That’s a church,” said Friday, nudging Val playfully. “Ain’t that beat all, Father?”

Val twitched his mouth into a brief smile.

“We should check it out,” said Friday. “I bet we’ll save some time - where there’s a church, there’s a town. They could give us directions, if nothing else. Or we could just scope out the town from the shadows - maybe get shot for acting like a couple of weirdos, but I did swear up and down that the next big decision was yours to make, so, you know - ”

Val shook his head. “That’s old world,” he said, slowly. “The woods here are new. Look - see how close the trees are to the church? They grew up around it. I wouldn’t take the church as a sign of anything. It’s a part of the woods.”

Friday huffed.

“Well, by all means, then. Let’s see where the road takes us.”

As they marched on, Friday began to get restless. She didn’t want to tell Val that she secretly hoped they would find a town, and that the town would be nice folks instead of rotten gang boys, and that by the time they got back to the bike hidden in the woods, it would be too late to drive on for the night. They would be safer in any town than they would be camping in the woods. The woods gave Friday the creeps. She didn’t like how young they were. She didn’t like not being able to see the lay of the land ahead of her. And come to think of it, she didn’t like that spooky church. It wasn’t right, the old world stuff blending in with the trees and boulders, pretending it was natural. The woods itself didn’t know any different. The moss climbed the old facade just as easily as it climbed the trees.

But most of all, Friday wanted to talk to people. Val was still tied up in his own head about Macomber and all that, which Friday was trying to understand, but at a certain point, a man had to let it go and talk to his travelling companion before she went insane.

Please, let there be a town around this last bend, Friday thought. Prayed, really.

Her boot sunk down in a patch of mud and she nearly lost her balance. She grabbed Val by the elbow and used him as leverage to pull herself up - he’d been paying enough attention to circumvent the mud, and it was the least he could do.

“It’s getting a little…” Val began.

“Wild,” said Friday, frowning. She wiped the bottom of her boot against the side of a tree. The path was narrowing. She hadn’t wanted to admit it - she’d been holding out hope. But more and more, the wide dirt road was becoming a trail. The trees crowded them, pushing them to walk closer together. Thorny underbrush reached out of the trees and scraped their legs. There wasn’t going to be a town at the end of this path, and Friday would have to be an absolute fool to follow a strange trail through the woods in mutie country.

“I don’t like this,” said Val. “We need to turn back.”

Friday nodded. They would get back to the bike before it got too dark, but they weren’t going to see the end of these woods until morning. She really hoped the other road didn’t end the same way.

Val had already started back down the path, and Friday hurried to catch up.

“You think this is a mutie trail?” said Friday as she jumped over another muddy patch. “Do you know what kinds live around here? Earlier, you mentioned you’d seen this kind of country before. Did you come from a place like this? Trees and stuff?”

“I... no. I come from a city.”

“What city?”

“You’re going to make me homesick,” Val said plainly. Friday couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

“Well, shit, after this, let’s go home. I want to see your city. Seriously, what city? You’re my travelling companion whether you like it or not, and you can’t keep everything close to the chest.”

Val gave her an inquisitive look, and Friday wondered if that was a little on the nose. Val still didn’t know that she knew about his mutation.

“You can’t place my accent?” Val said, a little incredulous. “Out east - ”

“You’re from the east, that’s all I got! Does everyone across the Mississippi talk like you? Because if that’s the case, that’s going to get real unnerving.”

“I’m not from across the Mississippi, you can’t live there. I’m from New Orleans.”

“And people sound like you there? I always imagined you as the only one. I’m gonna have to start practicing if I want to blend in. Let’s see, sort of like… you can’t live ‘dere across ‘de Mississippi, ‘de minoot you arrive you - ”

Val was looking at her like she was crazy, but more important than that was the harsh snap of a twig somewhere in the woods beside them.

Friday was on her gun before Val had time to speak. It was getting dim, but Friday aimed through the trees, squinting.

“I can’t see,” she said, blinking hard - as if that would help. “Val, anything?”

Val’s hand was on his gun as well, still strapped at his waist. But he shook his head.

Then, Friday saw movement. A shape low to the ground that she had mistaken for a large rock shifted, it’s surface rolling like a shoulder, as whatever it was crept closer.

“Come on out, now,” she said loudly. “Or you’re liable to get shot.”

The loud chittering of a squirrel on the other side of the path made it impossible to hear the figure in the trees. It kept creeping closer.

Friday put her rifle on her shoulder and looked through the sight.

“Last chance, man,” she said. Then, urgently, “Val, look behind us. There might be more.”

Val turned, finally drawing his gun. And he gasped.

Friday fired on the figure in the trees, but didn’t wait long enough to see if she’d hit it before turning around.

Standing right on the edge of the trees, maybe two feet away from them, was a mutie. It was tall and thin - a head taller than Val, maybe, which was scary tall, in Friday’s book. It was looking Val dead in the eye, and Val still hadn’t aimed his gun.

“Swap,” Friday grunted, pushing Val behind her. She yanked the bolt on her rifle to reload and fired a shot just as the mutie began to move. The bullet only hit its shoulder. Still, it went down, howling. Friday reloaded again.

“Val? How’s our other guy?” she asked.

No answer. He was frozen. Well, maybe he would live long enough to do her last rites if he got her killed. Always a silver lining.

Friday fired on the mutie she had just shot, getting the chest this time. She whirled around, pulling the bolt and aiming into the woods on the other side. The mutie that had been creeping along the ground was marginally closer, now, but much more shy than its friend. It was still a good ten feet away.

Val was aiming at it, at least. The way you would aim at a rabid dog you really wished you didn’t have to put down.

“Turn around,” said Friday, firmly.

Val gave her a pained look. Friday wanted to explain herself. But at the end of the day, she didn’t respect the life of all things or whatever, like Val. She sure respected her own life, though.

She hit it cleanly, and the mutie died on impact.

Without missing a beat, Friday grabbed Val by the arm and the two of them began to run. The sun was hovering just above the horizon, impatiently casting them the last of the light it could spare. Friday almost wished it would set, already. The long shadows of the trees reached out from all directions, entangling her and Val’s shadows in hand-like branches. She would never know how many of those trees were really muties, standing stock still, waiting for her boot to get stuck in the mud again.

It wasn’t long before they reached the fork in the road.

Friday finally let herself look over her shoulder, panting. She stared back down the path - wide and unthreatening again - as it converged with the main road. Val dug their bike back out of the underbrush. And the sun, having given them their due, finally disappeared.

epilogue 5 || 6.2

[wytfut]

Why Colorado .. part I

The late Great Jack Zumwinkel.... RIP!!

We go to Colorado annually .... and have been since the late 70′s? Truthfully I have since 1959.

a bit of history....

Its been pretty much the same place since the beginning. This place has been owned by the Zumwinkels since the late 1920′s. And still is by the Grandson Jon, who is my age.

The original Cabin was built by Grandpa for his Wife who suffered allergies. He built this for summer relief. These folks are Nebraski folks. He got the property via a homestead act of sorts. At the foot of Mount Meeker.

Grandpa built a true log cabin. Once established a cabin, requests for more cabins from friends and family. Which in turn he opened to the public, via word of mouth by the 1950′s.

The Kruse side of my family found out about this property, and we were all exposed to the life of the mountains.

1959 was our first year. I remember Old man Zumwinkel giving a rifle to my Pop to shoot a weazel who had been in the area. Different times. Outdoor picnic on the rocks. Huge herds of ground squirrels sprinkled with a few chipmunks. And some great local hikes. Scenery in this area still amazes me every year.

We went back again twice more n the 60′s.  

Once Patti and I were married we went up in 1978 with our good pals Jeff and Anica Brown..... we hauled up Jeff’s 750 Yamaha, and my Norton. Patti was pregnant with Jake. Did some riding, hanging out, sight seeing a good time.

An interesting story with this trip....  

We had bought a newer used car from Patti’s uncle before the trip. An attractive bright red with white top 70 torino convertible, and white interior. I still believe to this day, He sold us this piece of junk not knowing what it was. On this trip, the tranny barely held on to get us home. Patti and Anica had traveled down to Estes and the brakes went out. Etc. Etc. Etc. ....   Well it looked really nice.

A couple of years later with 2 kids we returned with Patti’s folks. From this period to now, we go just about every year. Jon Zumwinkles father Jack died (around 2000), and there was no one to run the place (Jon was still working full time in Ohio). The property set idle for some years. We would still go to Colorado in the very same area, and sneak onto the property and look around.

Why there?

Rocky Mountain National Park is RIGHT THERE. Its the back side of the park where there used to be many tourists, for years....  And is right up there with one of the most beautiful places on earth. Us flatlanders really appreciate that access.

Kids are young.... go into the park and hit all the high spots at least once. Do Trail ridge road drive.

Estes Park is 12 miles away..... nice town for shopping..... happy wife, happy life. Kids stuff, etc.

The Cabins/property is very primitive and old. When we first started attending regularly....  Wood stove to cook on. Wood stove to heat water for the shower. No radio. No TV. No cell service. Haul drinking water. No furnace. No Microwave. Real stone fire places. Folksie folks. Fully furnished with rustic furniture, pictures, paintings, drawings..... maybe even a piano, cookware, dinner ware, towels, bedding, fire wood. And a loft with beds.

No traffic noises to speak of and only 8 cabins.... very quiet. Back when my ears first started ringing... by the 3rd day up there, the ringing was gone.

Lots of various levels of hiking in the area.

I’d love to say tons of wildlife where the cabins are located, but that hasn’t been true until the past 10 years or so.

Now we’ve got siting's of Bears, Moose, Elk, Wolves, Cougars, Deer, Ducks, and who knows what else. This has been nothing short of thrilling. We never know what we are going to see each year, and are surprised by what happens. Now the ground squirrel population is way down.

Look for part II

[petnews2day]

Man sentenced to life in prison for killing woman walking dog

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/pet-news/dog-news/man-sentenced-to-life-in-prison-for-killing-woman-walking-dog/

Man sentenced to life in prison for killing woman walking dog

Michael Close (right) was convicted of killing Isabella Thallas (left) while she was walking her dog near his apartment in 2020 (Pictures: AP)

A man was convicted of life in prison without the possibility for parole after he was found guilty of shooting and killing a woman with an AK-47 for walking her dog near his apartment.

Michael Close was found guilty for the murder of Isabella Thallas in June 2020 and given a life sentence. He was also found guilty of the attempted murder of her boyfriend, Darian Simon, and sentenced to an additional 48 years in prison.

Thallas and Simon were walking her dog near Coors Field in Denver, Colorado when the couple stopped near Close’s apartment.

Close got into a ‘verbal exchange’ with Thallas and Simon after they urged the dog to ‘go potty’ on the lawn. Simon told police that Close yelled to them from a window: ‘are you going to train your dog or just yell at it!’

Simon responded ‘mind your own business, Rocko is a good dog,’ then tried to ignore the provocation. Close then grabbed an AK-47 and fired 24 rounds at the dog walkers.

Close did not own the assault rifle – he stole the weapon from a friend, former Denver Police Department Sgt Dan Politica. The police officer resigned from the department after the shooting, the Denver Post reported.

Thallas was pronounced dead at the scene. Simon sustained two gunshot wounds but survived.

Close immediately fled the scene. He took the AK-47 and a handgun and drove into the mountains. He was eventually stopped by authorities on Highway 285 west of his apartment.

That same morning, Close texted his ex-girlfriend that one of his own dogs was attacked at a nearby dog park, prosecutors argued. He then told her that he planned to ‘execute’ the owners of the aggressive dog.

Thallas and Simon were not at the dog park and had nothing to do with the incident. ‘He was stewing and he was welling with anger inside of him,’ Deputy District Attorney McKenna Burke said.

Close pleaded not guilty due to insanity. His lawyers argued that incident happened while he was suffering a nervous breakdown due to childhood trauma, recently losing several jobs, and the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.

‘He disassociated. He was outside of his head. He did not consider anything. He had a mental break and he did not know what he was doing,’ public defender Sonja Prins argued in court.

But prosecutors argued that he was in command of his faculties when he committed the crime. A court appointed doctor said Close suffered from depression and suicidal ideation, but also that these conditions did not qualify him as criminally insane.

After deliberating for just under 3 hours, a jury found Close guilty of all charges. The shooter hung his head and cried as the verdict was read.

‘There’s no winners in this,’ Thallas’s father Joshua told 9News. ‘We go home after this, our family’s broke, I’m still without my daughter.’

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