a spoonful of tori: Into the Glorious

I feel like I must be one of the most fortunate people I know to have in the family a remote mountain house nestled into the Colorado Rockies. My grandfather's biological father left him and his mother when he was a small boy, and the man who later became his stepfather was a gracious gift of God to him. I love hearing my grandfather tell stories of his childhood and speak with great respect and affection for his true father - his stepdad. Great Grandpa Claude, as we Summers grandkids call him, owned quite a bit of land at the base of some mountain peaks outside of Steamboat Springs. That land was first settled in the early 20th century and is still in the family nearly 100 years later. My grandfather has acquired more adjacent property over the past forty years, making a trip to their summer house up on the mountain a truly magical experience.

Picture steering your truck off of the little country highway onto a dirt road that stretches as far as you can see until the first bend of a hillside. Poke along that road, dust flying up as you pass, and drink in the gorgeous fields and forested peaks. It's not uncommon to spot dozens of elk in the early morning or at dusk, and of course you will offer a wave to the shepherd whose sheep graze lazily alongside of the road. Cows, chipmunks, and mule deer are other animals you'll expect to see wandering about. In a season of good rain, green growth along the roadside and up through the wooded hills is laden with wildflowers. Lavender and white Columbine, the state flower, are the loveliest of the various types and colors you will enjoy. After fifteen or so minutes of this view, winding higher and higher up the mountain, you finally arrive at the house. The property stretches for miles behind the cabin and is home to quaint ponds, original cabin homesteads finally succumbing to the elements, rock formations adorned with Native American drawings, and beautiful vistas if you're willing to hike up to them. Can you envision it yet?

The crazy thing is, I haven't always appreciated visiting what is known as Heritage Mountain Ranch. When I was a child, I adored our visits. It was a chance to explore a great, expansive outdoor playspace. As a teenager, the mountain's charm was no longer appealing enough to warrant the fuss I made of ticks, rattlesnakes, and the very occasionally seen bear. It was just after I finished college that I flew out to CO to spend a week with my grandparents and truly fell in love with the place. I finally stilled my mind and heart long enough to appreciate the glory of God's creation begging for admiration all around me. Now I visit every chance I am given. Take a gander below and I think you'll see why.