These waters…
First, for those who care about these waters…
I start today’s post with a promotion for a wonderful cause, a fun event, and something for which I am most proud of Forrest and a friend for taking the time to organize (and indeed it proves to be a lot of time for both!).
There are few opportunities to show you care, to give back to something from which we take so much. Our mighty Rio Grande!
Land owner, tourist, farmer and fisherman.
We hope you will all help out by showing you care, and showing your support.
The 2nd Annual High Country Hustle.
A 6.6K run/walk for water, and fundraiser for the Rio Grande Headwaters Restoration Project, this Sunday afternoon in Creede, Colorado.
Please see the web site at: http://www.highcountryhustle.webs.comto learn more, sign up, sign on, show your support, and donate.
A most sincere thank you to all those who truly do love these waters and have already signed up to participate and/or donate. It means a great deal to see your support of the river.
Thank you! From the proud mother of Forrest, who is co-organizing this event once again with Heather Messick. Because they both care about these waters.
This time last year.
Forrest co-organized his first High Country Hustle.
About 80 people crawled out of the woodwork on a sleepy Sunday morning to attend.
Bob left for Canada following the Hustle with our “new boss” to confirm the arrangements for something we were diving into head first – moving to Canada to manage a cattle ranch. Alas, the pool turned out to be empty…
The following night, old Alan dog peacefully passed away in the loving arms of Forrest and me, right there with us at his place between our chairs at the kitchen table.
Eight days before making the big move, the job fell through. I know, we’re better off without them, everyone has told us so, and it’s not too hard to see. But watching your plans and future fall apart instantly from under you, well, for lack of a more eloquent term, it sucks.
So there we were, suddenly homeless since we’d already rented out our house for the season and hired caretakers we never ended up needing in the way we originally planned. We kept our word, kept them on, and paid them for a position that was no longer, from a salary we no longer had, while we spent the summer seemingly stuck in the one room cabin on blocks, the only running water a leak in the roof, a nearby outhouse, and back to hauling water like I had done back in the day.
And to fill a huge void, I bring home the puppy from hell and our world really gets stirred up.
This guy is no Alan. I’ve never been so challenged with a dog. As I told Karen yesterday, right now, he’s the best trained, worst behaved dog I have ever had. (And yes, I do believe someday, hopefully not too far away, he’ll be the best dog, period.) In the meanwhile, life with Gunnar is like the lessons my stallion, Flying Crow, taught me in the horse world. The most difficult ones teach you the most. They’re the ones who teach you how little you knew before.
And this time next year? Where will that find us? What adventures will we have between now and then? I’m pretty certain there will be plenty.
Stay tuned.
Stick with me…
There’s more to me than this mountain I turn my back to bittersweet.