Month: June 2023

The 4^th of July, Independence Day, is next week. I have ambivalence for the celebration. I wholly dislike fireworks and how they scare both wild and domestic animals. I dislike the crowded places that the 4^th brings. However, I feel respect and gratitude for the country that has allowed me to thrive.

I usually do not talk about politics in this blog. Nevertheless, the 4^th of July represents patriotism for me.  I feel deep allegiance to my country while at the same time I am chagrined by the way that some people have been historically, and are currently, treated.

The meanings of patriotism differ among people.  Being patriotic means I have a devotion to my country. Patriotism is more than exalting the military, although that is part of it. I am grateful to live in this country where I have the freedom to disagree.

I see a major difference between nationalism and patriotism. I do not believe, as many nationalists do, in the superiority of my country above all other places in the world. As a patriot I respect my country simultaneously as I respect other cultures. I also feel that regardless of political beliefs, the flag belongs to everyone-supporters as well as skeptics. I am entitled to wave the “stars and stripes” proudly.

International travel gives me insights as I learn about others. The experience of living in Turkiye (Turkey) for six months in 1974 changed my life. When I returned to the US, I had a new appreciation for the democratic republic of my citizenship. I had learned how others in the world envied this country and the ideals upon which it was founded.

Since my Turkish experience, I get misty eyed when I hear the Star-Spangled Banner because of the symbolic meaning it has for me. I have since traveled to dozens of other countries and I always feel a special gratitude when I return to the US.

The 4^th of July celebration is important. I love playing our annual 4^th of July band concert in Estes Park. Honoring my country with rousing marches and reflective tunes such as America the Beautiful, God Bless America, and It’s a Grand Old Flag inspire me. I wave the flag proudly as I also seek to assure that with my freedom also comes a responsibility to uphold it for others.

A friend and I were walking around Lake Estes in early summer several years ago. We came upon a herd of cow elk with two-week old calves. They were so cute! To not disturb, we cautiously took a detour around them. We met two women who were headed our way and excitedly told them about the cows and baby elk ahead. Their response was, “Thanks, but we saw them last year.”

Their response bothered me. I never tire of seeing and doing some things more than once. On the other hand, some enjoyable (and not so enjoyable) experiences in life only need to happen once.

Variety can be the spice of life. In addition, repeating treasured experiences can be zestful.  As much as opportunities can be similar with repetition, many are different depending on the circumstances. Some of the trails I hike in the park, for example, never get old no matter how many dozen times I do them. I see the same wildflowers year after year, and they continue to give me joy. The seasons make each trek different.

My RAGBRAI Friends

Events often change over time. I have ridden RAGBRAI (Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa) six times. It was fun with my friends and when my parents were still alive in Iowa. I doubt, however, that I will do it again.

Other wonderful experiences only need to happen once. For example, I ran the Boulder Bolder several years ago and enjoyed it, but don’t need to repeat. I have run memorable marathons (e.g., Honolulu, Marine Corps, Big Sur, Drake Relays) and have never done the same one twice.

Friends in North Carolina talked me into going sky diving one Saturday morning. I especially loved the quietness of being in the parachute floating down, but it is a once-in-a lifetime happening for me.

I have a bucket list of countries I would like to visit. I have curiosity about places that I have not seen. I appreciate unexplored places as well as my favorites. A new mantra for me is, “Life is short. Do stuff that matters.” That might be repeats, or new things. I am grateful for choices in my life.

I was 10 years old the first time I flew in an airplane. It was my mother’s first time too. We dressed in our “Sunday clothes” and flew from the Cedar Rapids Airport to Chicago to visit my aunt and uncle. Mom was nervous but she tried not to show it. Her concern was getting motion sickness so the two of us nibbled soda crackers and ordered 7-up from the “stewardesses.” I loved the thrill of racing down the runway, floating into the air, and seeing the structures below become smaller and smaller.

Since that day, I have flown hundreds of times and amassed thousands of air miles. I still find the take-offs exhilarating. I marvel at the concept of flying and how millions of people move around the world quickly. I love the idea of taking a long journey and ending up in a new culture in hours.

Statistically, flying is the safest form of transportation available. Flying is affordable, especially for the solo traveler. Further, I like the idea of soaring above the clouds. One time while flying at night I saw flittering green lights of the Aurora Borealis over Michigan.

Airports fascinate me. When waiting, as one seems to do often in an airport, I see people of all persuasions. I make up stories about where they are going and what they will do. I overhear bits of conversations that indicate the expectations people have for their trips.

Like other folks, however, I find flying to be less romantic than it once was. I still get motion sickness sometimes, and turbulence causes anxiety. Airplane food is non-existent. Sometimes I get bumped into First Class and the food is better. I get frustrated with delayed/cancelled flights and try to be patient. I have always made it to my destination but once got stuck in Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris for three days.

Going through security tries my patience. I remain irritated that my bicycle pedal wrench was confiscated several years ago. I feel sorry for the crying babies on planes and for myself when I end up sitting in front of one. People who take forever getting their carry-on luggage into and out of the overhead bins annoy me.

Regardless, I am grateful for airplanes and the freedom to move about the world. I am also grateful that I don’t fly often anymore.

It’s 7:30 am at Sheep Lakes. Three big brown bodies are wading in the water. Photographers focus their mega-lenses on them. Visitors wield cell phone cameras. I mingle in my volunteer uniform among the folks making sure they stay back from the meadow at a safe distance.

This scenario describes my early Sunday summer mornings at Rocky Mountain National Park in my expanded volunteer role as a Mooseketeer. Although the moose may stick around for a bit, my primary volunteer duty later in the morning will be to assist with traffic control as part of the Bighorn Brigade if Bighorn Sheep come to their namesake lakes to ingest their dose of minerals.

I am learning more about moose every day. I love to see and talk about them in the park. Their presence on the east side of the park is a new phenomenon and they have become common residents. They come to Sheep Lakes to ingest the aquatic plants.

Moose are the most dangerous animals in Rocky Mountain National Park. People worry about black bears and mountain lions, but nothing can compare to an annoyed moose. Although Bullwinkle J. Moose was a benign sidekick of Rocky J. Squirrel, moose are far from docile.

I have encountered moose on trails who blithely walk away when they see me. On the other hand, I have come across them when they quite literally dug their hooves in, gave me the eye, and declared without a doubt that I was the one who needed to move away. I am not one to argue with a 500–1000-pound animal that can run as fast as 30 mph.

Until recently had little interaction with moose. Other ungulates in the park such as mule deer, bighorn sheep, and elk tend to be herding animals. Although more than one moose might appear, I like the independent nature of moose.

I admire their jumping ability. “Exclosures” were constructed in the park to keep elk from over-grazing willow and aspen areas. The fences are six feet high to keep elk out. However, moose can jump seven feet or higher, so these fences do not deter moose from the willow smorgasbords.

The Mooseketeers group is an experimental project aimed at keeping the moose safe from people, the people safe from the moose, and the people safe from one another. We will see how the summer goes. In the meantime, being in the park in the early morning seeing “The Bullwinkle Show” is far more exciting than a childhood TV cartoon!