Tailgate Training, Fingerprints of God, or Snowing Up

I forgot to talk about the training Neil, John, and myself had with Barry yesterday morning for a few hours. We got to talk with him about basic office things, but he also told us some neat information about the park. Looking at the 3D map that’s on our north office wall, he pointed out how his idea that the wind always goes from California to New York is true because all the western slopes of the peaks are smooth, but the eastern sides are much more rugged. That’s why, he said, the east side of the park is more populated—people would rather explore the rougher terrain because it provides more obstacles. The most popular area is around Bear Lake, and he pointed out the five canyons/fingers that make up the major backcountry area. Looking at it, it’s almost as though some huge being just put his hand into the earth and pulled—kinda like when someone drags his hand through the sand at the beach. The major exploration areas then happen in the fingerprint areas. First is the pinky finger, then the thumb, index, middle, and finally ring finger. I pointed out it was like a finger roll starting the rotation on the pinky and Neil laughed at the piano reference I could have been making. Looking further around the map, I noticed more and more handprints throughout the park. That just makes me wonder again how anyone can’t think there’s something out there. It’s almost like a signature or proof to people who need to see something because it looks so much like a hand.

After I left the library last night, I stopped to get McDonalds (only my second fast food stop since being back in the US! Go me!!) and drove into the park. The nice thing about being an NPS employee is the free access to the park. I also found out that I get a discount for Verizon for being employed through NPS. Anyway, after getting my food and driving into the park, I began the drive up Trail Ridge Road. After about five miles, I pulled off to take some pictures of the sky. The nice thing about daylight savings time is that it stays light until 9pm or later, so despite the fact that it was around seven, the sky was bright blue and it was reflecting off the freshly snowed-on peaks. I turned around back on the road and began the drive down. When I was almost back, I noticed a dirt road that leads back a ways to some of our trailheads in a meadow. Driving back in, I couldn’t believe the numbers of elk just sitting back there out of the way of the noisy tourons (new conjunction…figure it out) since I was the only who seemed to have been back on that road for at least an hour.

Aside from the fantastic greens and elk on the ground and mountains, the higher elevation mountains were again that magical white and gray against the bright blue. As I sat in my car, foolishly taking pictures until my camera died and watching, a cloud appeared on top of the mountain. When I looked closer however, I realized it was actually snow being blown off the mountain so that it looked almost like a cloud from an explosion. It’s crazy that the mountains can just create their own weather and precipitation here. It’s crazy that the mountains decide which water for the entire country flows towards the Atlantic and which flows towards the Pacific. It’s crazy that the mountains are my home along with hundreds of other people and thousands of animals for an entire summer or more.

Driving a little further down the road, I was just letting my mind wander and take in the sights without actually thinking about anything. It’s easy to get lost doing that here. The next time I pulled over, there were two trees just to the side of my car that seemed to be joined together possibly in the roots. The juxtaposition they presented was amazing though. One tree was completely dead and the other had full needleage. The fact that both can be in the same area with the same conditions, yet one still dies baffles my mind. At the same time though, they are both still standing. I couldn’t tell if one was holding the other up or not, but the fact that whatever killed the outside of the first tree was still not enough to take the whole thing down. There is something inside of it that’s even stronger than lightning or bark beetles or elk grazing or whatever other tree threat. I think a lot of the time humans can be the same way. It’s strange how nature can so perfectly reflect human life in ways that are identifiable. Two people in the same conditions and upbringing, around the same age based on appearances, could be in the same situation. One could be thriving and the other not so much, but in the end nothing can really get either one down on the inside because their spirit or whatever you want to call it is untouchable.