Aspen

This is my forty-fourth fall living in Colorado. Forty-four years of aspen gaspin’ drives and hikes through the golden glow of quaking aspen. Yet I have to say this year’s hike may be the most memorable. Once you hike a trail you can stake a claim to it! I’m glad I made this one mine.

Friends had clipped a description of the Vindicator Valley Trail from the Colorado Springs Gazette a while ago—one of the finds from adventure reporter Seth Boster. They invited us to join them so we set out on a partly overcast, breezy but nice fall day toward the historic mining town of Victor, Colorado.

The trail was easy to find just off County Road 81 and has been well maintained by the nonprofits that support it. As advertised, it not only provides gorgeous vistas of aspen, but also educational discoveries at every turn as hikers stop to read the historical markers and see the remains of gold mines that saw their glory days in the late 1800s.

The two-mile hike up hill and down at 10,200 feet in elevation did exercise my body, but it was my imagination that got the best workout. I had forgotten how many of the old mines were named for women, and I couldn’t help but wonder who these women were, and how they felt about having a gold mine named after them.

Was Theresa someone’s beloved wife, perhaps a mail order bride from back East who responded to an ad to marry a rich gold miner out West? Or did the miner who went into Victor to file his claim slap a piece of gold ore on the bar and tell the barmaid in her flouncy skirt and bustier (like Miss Kitty in Gunsmoke), “I just found me some gold, Theresa! And I’m naming the mine after you!” How would she have responded as she poured whiskey into the glass he held in his gritty hands? And did he expect something in return? Without doing a lot more research, I can only imagine.

Maybe Annie J. was the darling granddaughter of a mine supervisor. A little girl with golden curls who loved to visit the mine with her grandpa, her little hand in his, as he checked on the day’s yield. And what about Glorietta? Was she someone’s grandma known for her beans and biscuits, or a sister who died too young from consumption? Surely Lillie was a dance hall performer. Or not. I’d love to know.

At the end of the trail we were amused to find a sign with an oft used miner’s toast: “May you stand in ore and your labors be in vein.” And may you venture out on Vindicator Valley Trail yourself some golden aspen day. It’s a wonderful reminder of what’s still good about living in Colorado. You may want to include visits to nearby Victor and Cripple Creek, too. Make the golden adventure yours.

(A classic column becomes a blog post.)

Fall is the time of year when trees dress in their best and demand our undivided attention. Two magnificent maple trees are rooted in my memory. One stands outside my childhood bedroom window in Tennessee. I call it my “thinking tree,” because I spent hours draped in its limbs pondering life. The other was dubbed “Mom’s Tree,” because for four years I sought it out on my son’s Midwestern college campus and took its picture. I’m sure it’s still there, watching over the backpacked students shuffling by with their minds on anything but leaves.

Those of us with such trees, such multi-colored falls, in our memories are fortunate. Yet those of us in Colorado try not to let those memories diminish our enjoyment of our fantastic Colorado falls. After all, other people have to motor for miles to marvel at the contrast of an expanse of golden aspen against the deep evergreen of the pines. We live here and can be gaspin’ at the sight of a stand of aspen in minutes.

Certainly these trees deserve our respect. When aspen gaspin’ season arrives, they have to put up with a great deal of abuse. Imagine the conversation two aspen trees might have when they first see the line of cars and RVs snaking its way up the mountain pass:

“Oh, boy. Here they come again. Start quaking.”

“I’m quaking…I’m quaking. There’s that couple with the yippy dog climbing out of their RV. Didn’t we see them last year?”

“Yeah. Gee, they’ve put on some weight. Maybe they should climb up here to see us instead of standing by the road with their binoculars.”

“Not with that dog! Hey, what’s a peak? According to these people we’re always before it, at it, or past it.”

“Who cares. I’m just glad they all leave before we’re standing here stark naked with them gawking at us. That would really be embarrassing.”

This year I intend to fully enjoy our Colorado fall, to get out of the car and hike through the trees. Whatever day I arrive will be the peak day for me. I’ll keep those magnificent maple trees in my memory where they belong, but our glorious Colorado aspen deserve nothing less than my full, unmitigated admiration. This year, they’ll get it.

Make it Mine

Aspen Gaspin’