Photos and happenings from Tim. Mostly photos.
Terry and Gordon, good friends from Boulder, long gone back to their roots in Youngstown, OH.
These photos were derived from Kodachrome slides taken in the fall on 1991, and scanned in 2014.
This area was either Winter Park, or Redfeather Lakes.
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Pictures of this event, and a few other random tennis photos, can be seen here.
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Around Labor Day 1991 we signed up for a big tennis tourney in Snowmass. We’d already played an Aspen tourney a year ago this time of year, we knew it was a great time. Being poor and cheap by nature, we camped in the back of our dinky little Toyota, down by the river. The river in this case was Woody Creek.
After the tourney, we drove back to Carbondale, the headed south across Scofield Pass, then to Kebler Pass, and on in to Crested Butte, camping out of our truck along the way.
At some point, coming or going, we drove by the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, an amazingly deep valley carved by the Gunnison River.
Finally, we spent a very short time in Teluride. The weather turned wet and cold. Cheap or not, we checked into a condo to warm up.
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Attended by Jeff, Tim, Steve, Bob, and that one other guy who’s name escapes me.
Mount Harvard, in the Collegiate Range and reputed to be one of the easiest ascents in the whole state, is the only 14’er I ever climbed . It wasn’t technical, but it was high enough. It’s the third highest in the state at 14,434′. The air gets real thin up there. Clouds came and went, the omnipresent threat of bad weather blowing in up that high was a bit nerve wracking, at least for me. The feeling of exposure is intense.
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Eileen, our new dog Emma, and I went out to the Tetons from Boulder for a little summer vacation, in part because Dave Spildie was working a Forest Service gig right there at Lake Jackson, just north of Jackson Hole. We were in our little Toyota pickup, with a shell on the back that we could sleep in. The details of this trip are a bit hazy because this all happened 23 years ago. I remember that we were able to hang out at the forest service compound right on Lake Jackson, staring the Tetons right in the face. We camped nearby at a commercial campground, where we were dwarfed by large RVs and buses.
After one idyllic afternoon on the DNR pier, taking in the sun, we noticed some clouds scudding in from the north. With astonishing speed, a real gale hurtled down upon us. In less than 15 minutes, the sky went black, the winds howled. I managed to snap two pictures before we ran for it. Boats were tossed around like corks. This explains the last two shots.
Here’s that scene. Kodachrome slides, taken in ’91, scanned in 2014.
After a day or two in and around Jackson, we took off for what I assume was Bridger Teton National Forest. One night of Kar Kamping with Dave, then we backpacked into a spectacular area. It had rained a lot, the wild flowers were out in an abundance that I’d never seen. As were the flies. Small flies tormented us all day. We swung ropes and clothes at them steadily so they wouldn’t light, and it half worked. They were slow witted. Mercifully, they died down around dinner time.
Dave forbade us to let our dog wander. I was insulted at first. This is the woods, dammit. Dogs run free! He probably saved our lives with some rather lurid tales of bad dogs flushing out grizzlies and hauling them back to camp.
