Month: September 2024

What date will we get the first measurable snow in Estes Park? This is the question that is readily on my mind this time of the year. As the days grow shorter and the mornings are cooler and crisper, I feel a sense of anticipation in the air.

I look forward to the first snowfall of the season with a mix of excitement and wistfulness. It marks the beginning of winter in all its beauty. I like the change of season and the quietness of snowfall with the way it transforms the landscape and the atmosphere. The snowfall also marks closure on the warm summer days.

I am grateful to live in an environment now that has such distinct seasons, although people might argue that fall is way too brief when the first snow is put into the mix. After years of living where snow was mostly an anomaly, snow is inevitable here. The unique aspect is that we often see it high in the mountains before we experience it on the ground in our yards.

First Snowfall on Longs Peak, September 22, 2014 (Photo by Deb Bialeschki)

I love the anticipation of the answer to this perennial question about the first snowfall in the mountains and in town. The question is discussed with friends as well as strangers.

For almost 10 years, my friends and I have held a contest to predict the first measurable snowfall in Estes Park each year. The measurement occurs at noon on the snowfall date on a stump in an open meadow in town. At least one inch must be on the stump. The facilitator, Deb, sends an email to people along with a Google document to sign up for predicted days. It costs $1 for each guess with up to five opportunities. The money is collected and when the snowfall arrives, the winner receives the take. If no one has chosen the date, all donations go to the Pet Association of Estes. Usually, the winner also donates the earnings to the Pet Association since we all support this organization.

As the days creep closer to winter and the first flakes fall from the sky, anticipation builds not just for the snow itself, but for the experiences it brings—moments of wonder, joy, and the peace that winter can offer. Of course, whoever wins our pool gets bragging rights regarding snowfall prediction for the coming year!

“Rocky Mountain National Park. This is Karla. How may I help you?” That’s how I answer the phone dozens of times each week as I volunteer in the Information Office at the park. When staff organized volunteers in the park over 30 years ago, it was fashionable to have “cute” names (e.g., Bighorn Brigade, Tundra Guardians, Roadhogs) for the groups. We were the Rocky Talkers, although we seldom use that moniker these days.

Many questions are repetitive regarding planning a trip to the park, campground reservations, or the timed-entry system. The Information Office fascinates me because one never quite knows who will be calling and what they want to know.

Another volunteer invited me to be a Rocky Talker over 8 years ago. At first, I hesitated to consider the opportunity. I have never been a telephone talker, probably because I grew up on a “party” line in rural Iowa and my parents never encouraged us to talk long or to talk about anything that might be gossip. I, however, gave volunteering at the Info Office a try. I now love working there and “being in the know.”

They say there are no dumb questions, but I think I have encountered unusual ones as a Rocky Talker. Sometimes people catch themselves in the process of asking a silly question. This week a caller asked me if he had to walk to the trail that had all the zig zags on it. I said I wasn’t sure what trail he was talking about, and he replied, “Of course you don’t but I just thought I would ask.” Duh…

Last week I had a conversation with someone about when Trail Ridge Road usually re-opens in the spring. This person wanted to come in early May, and I told him that we aimed to open it Memorial Day weekend and no earlier. He replied, “Well, Memorial Day weekend is in March, isn’t it? It would be open then when I come in May.” No…

On one hand, I have had people hang up on me when I give them information that they did not want to hear. On the other hand, people have told me I made their day or saved their vacation by giving them the options. I take the positive comments with grace and ignore the grumpy people.

We always work as a team with at least one other person staffing the phones. I love getting to know the other volunteers. I have also treasured working with my supervisor, Katy. She kindly thanks the volunteers daily for being there. Katy is planning a well-deserved retirement after 27 years as the Manager of the Information Office. She told me that when she started our desk manual, called “Just the Facts,” was 16 pages. The latest version has 209 pages.

I continue to be amused by the questions. Nevertheless, we Rocky Talkers know by answering the phones, returning emails, and sending information that we are contributing to helping people have cherished memories of our beautiful park.

I was returning from a long hike to Lawn Lake. A family had stopped at a junction a few yards from the beginning of the trailhead. I overheard the matriarch of the family say, “Here comes someone with sticks, they can probably help us.” I wasn’t sure that having “sticks” showed the possibility of wisdom, but I answered their questions about where the trails led. In retrospect, having hiking poles may signal a type of intellect.

I have been using hiking poles for almost three decades. I feel naked when I hike without them. For “easy” hikes, I might only use one but when I have both in hand, I feel like I have double the stability that I would not have without them. Regardless of the terrain, having two extra points of contact with the ground helps me prevent falls and maintain balance.

I climbed the Grand Teton three decades ago. One 25-year-old male guides that led us to the top used hiking poles. It seemed a little unusual especially for a young man. I thought he had knee problems. When I asked, he said that he loved hiking/climbing and being in the outdoors. He said he wanted to be able to be active for the rest of his life. As someone old enough to be his mother, I took his viewpoint to heart and began using the poles to minimize wear and tear on my body.

I understand that using hiking poles can also help improve endurance. By engaging arms and shoulders, you spread the effort across more muscle groups and reduce fatigue in the legs. They also encourage a more upright posture, which can improve breathing by opening the chest and lungs. The poles’ versatility also enables me to probe stream depth and assess the stability of rocks or logs before stepping on them.

I don’t know if poles have saved my knees. It is often impossible to measure prevention. Nevertheless, I know that poles have saved my balance on numerous occasions. Using them is a smart move for me and I look forward to wandering with my poles for years to come.

I loved being a vegetable gardener when I was in 4-H. I marveled every day as the vegetables grew and matured. Every morning, I could not wait to get to my garden to see what sprang up overnight and to contemplate when harvesting might begin. My first garden project was a 10’ x 10’ plot but expanded to include the whole family garden during my teen years.

I no longer have vegetables outside my door, but interesting small flora are abundant in the open space next to my townhouse. Every summer day I am thrilled at seeing the tiny wildflowers and the native thistles outside my home.

Thistles have a bad reputation. Many of them are invasive throughout our community and in the national park. However, our montane ecosystem is also home to native thistles that are not only beautiful but part of the ecology that helps to deter wildland fires. They live in harmony with other wildflowers and proliferate while not pushing other flora away.

Native Wavyleaf thistles can thrive in a variety of places. They are frequently visited by bumblebees and other pollinating insects. Birds use the bristles to line their nests. Native Americans used wavyleaf thistle for food and medicine.

The leaders of my condominium association do not appreciate my nurturing of the little Wavyleaf thistles. Two years ago, they mowed down the one thistle that I had so delighted in seeing. Last year I put up a placard to protect it. Although one of the HOA Board members whacked it down in the fall, it had procreated with a half dozen babies growing several feet away, fortunately on city property that should not be mowed. This year I have more blooming thistles, and they are spreading their seed further into the public space.

I delight in these thistles as well as the other wildflowers that struggle in this high desert environment. The area is far different than the rich Iowa soil that nourished my 4-H garden. Nevertheless, I enjoy the young thistles and other wildflowers every day.

As fall approaches, the thistles are becoming dormant. My morning observations in the winter will change to seeing footprints in the snow instead of flourishing flowers. I will patiently wait, however, for what spring brings.

Just like being a farm kid in Iowa, it’s the little things just outside my door that delight my heart every day. Mother Theresa reminds us that not everyone can do great things, but we can all do small things with love.