If You're Lucky Enough to be in the Mountains...You're Lucky Enough

We are faithful converts to the two-week fall, winter and spring breaks we receive in exchange for an obscenely short summer, and rarely travel during peak season. For unknown reasons we made an exception to take the kids on the (relatively) short trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota and, in our attempt to wend our way home to Castle Rock, make a pit stop in Estes Park, Colorado, adjacent to Rocky Mountain National Park. If the signs are correct, and I believe they are, this is where heaven and earth meet.
Our gift shop-to-gift shop tour of middle America took us to the famous rock engravings (are they kidding? You don't take cards at the window?), as well as Rushmore Cavern, an alpine slide, a bomber-and-fighter plane graveyard, as well as a drive through Bear Country, U.S.A., which featured several deer, goats, arctic wolves and yes, bears galore, featuring this punked-out brothah who paid us no never mind as he wandered through the huge wired pen.
Reptile Gardens was another great stop: crocs and alligators, boas, komodo dragons, you name it. Me, I just can't handle the odor of reptiles. I'm petty and I know it. Clap your hands.
The littles in front on a mammoth dig site. THIS IS NOT A REPLICA. Apparently, back in the day, that little corner of pine-covered paradise featured a rather large sinkhole in which several adolescent-aged mammoths went to die, and they're still unearthing them. Right there, behind us. I don't know why it tickles me so much, but, there it is.
Once in Estes Park, we were awed by this great waterfall which goes by the name "Alluvial Fan" on all the maps and signage. Many hours could have been expended here, and, as you can see from Shane's lack of enthusiasm that we had just announced our intention to press on to even greater heights. He wasn't havin' it.

We got just this high, which was wicked cold, offered wicked views above the timber line, and exposed mom to-die-for offerings at the gift shop, which, of course, featured wicked price tags.

Once back at habitation level, we stayed here. Not tricked out or especially luxurious, we LOVED this rental: three bedrooms, a loft, a huge dining room table that could probably seat, oh, I dunno, twelve?, living room, wrap-around deck just across the road from the Big Thompson river, horseback riding, what-have-you. I'm a fan of hotels in a big way, but this was superior: can't put a price tag on a place where your kids can speak at above-normal decibel levels and jump on the ground or the beds without the neighbors freaking out. No neighbors. Just a healthy dose of "When can we buy ourselves a cabin, mom?"
Not a second too soon, babe.

Paddle boating on Lake Estes, which we fit in between hiking, amusements at Fun City, leisurely drives, window shopping, and consuming an almost inhumane amount of ice cream. Special tip: Hayley's has Pralines 'n Cream that'll bring tears to your eyes.

What I forgot to post was the best memory of all: our brand-new (to us!) Acadia conking out on the way home and being towed for major repairs, courtesy of our brand-new (to us!) On-Star service. Seems the Acadia is prone to transmission problems. Yay! Check it on the slideshow.

As we were ridiculously hot, flustered and far away from home, we lost track of the cooler in which were icily wrapped Eve, Ty, and Shane's first fish catches of a lifetime...some poor groundskeeper in Thornton is hating us right about now.