Another trip has begun, as so many of them, with sitting in front of an aircraft, being loaded for the flight with my oversized luggage, salmon, German stewardesses, and, most likely, some fuel.
Grendland, just before it fell asleep. So many mountains. No trace of human. Another planet.
And yet another planet, that divides itself west-south, Bush-noBush, Black-white, war-peace, and offers a welcome fingerscan and portrait photo upon arrival. Still, a warm and pleasant place to visit. Especially the Rockies.
Ouray. Elevation roughly the same as the highest mountain in Slovenia.
Corners all around the town wear brass memorial plaques, commemorating this and that. This is the best one.

When warm and wet weather finally turned white and cold, we set up our course due mixed.

Since some SUVs don't sport a 4x4 drive, we have had some exercise prior climbing.

This year's OIF was 10th in a row. Jeff Lowe started it 10 years ago as a small sale local event. Now it's big, international and fills the town with climbers to the top.

 

They can then climb, talk, compete, sit in hot tubs, and get their asses kicked by climbers such as Kirsten or Ines in the process.

The trip back to Denver, and then to the planet Old continent passed smoothly if not quickly, and left me with an impression of a story not completely told. Not yet.