DAY 68-73. July 16-21, 2018. A Monday through a Saturday.

We spent the rest of the week just enjoying Westcliffe. We did one bigger hike up the the Lake of the Clouds. The hike took us through dense thickets of Aspen and past lush mountain wildflowers until we reached 2 alpine lakes and scared a marmot or two. You just can’t beat an alpine lake for looking picture perfect. So serene, and surrounded by mountain, I want to chase other hikers away, so the lakes are left in peace.

My brother and his wife had some friends come into town so we got to hang out with those guys and do some smaller hikes, including just walking the local roads to say hello to the ponies.

There is a Rufuos humming bird that lurks around my sister-in-law’s hummingbird feeder, chasing off the the other birds. He dive bombs the other birds and just generally seems to be a meanie pants. My sister-in-law has named him Mussolini. One afternoon, after a few beers, my brother challenged Mussolini. He stood guard near the bird feeder and may have even through a rock or two in the general direction of this tiny, red, jerk. Don’t worry though, no birds were harmed in the making of this showdown though. We can only hope Mussolini learned his lesson, but somehow I suspect he is not so easily scared off.

We also went to the local Rodeo and saw the Rodeo parade. The local rodeo was more fun than some of the more competitive rodeos I’ve been too. These were the local ranchers just showing off their stuff. I sat next to a little boy and his Grandma whose dad was competing. I heard dad had lost one of his fingers roping a calf before. He was still out there doing it though. It sounds like a gruesome tale, but it really wasn’t, it was just presented as a fact of life.

Westcliffe is awesome little town, surrounded by mountains. You turn one direction and you’ve got the Sangre de Cristos and in another, the West Mountains. Everywhere there are epic views and you can watch the afternoon storms rolling in off the mountains followed by the views of the sun streaming through. Every time you look and think it just couldn’t get any prettier, it somehow tops itself.