A 4th Day in the Centennial State: so much for "easy"!

For our last hurrah in the Boulder 'burbs before heading back to the bright lights/big city, we planned…why, a HIKE, of course! In my pre-vacation research, I’d found one that sounded right up our alley--promising gorgeous scenery, reachable via a pleasant walk. Even the name itself seemed innocuous: the Flatirons--how tough could that be? (Uh-oh...again with the foreshadowing…)

I’d also been told that it was a very popular destination, so we made our way there around 10:30 Thursday morning, armed with drinks, snacks, sunscreen...and the tattered remains of our waning energy. True to the advance billing, there were already quite a few folks at the park, so we found a space along the neighborhood street to legally leave our car, and meandered in to get the 4-1-1.

We opted to grab a map and also chat with a ranger, to help us decide which of the myriad trails would best suit us. After listening to our desired parameters--moderate difficulty and length, with substantial elevation gain and impressive landscape--she suggested a route that she thought would meet our needs. Now, keep in mind that this would be our third such outing in as many days, so ye olde legs (on all 4 members of Team WestEnders, the young and the...more mature) were feeling a tiny bit…weary….to be honest. And the first thing we had to do was tackle the only paved portion of the entire endeavor…unsheltered beneath the blazing sun…straight up a steep hill. Seriously, we were sweating and gasping for breath within the first 5 minutes of this supposedly light exercise day.

But next...it got even more challenging, as the path changed to dirt (fine), and then rocks (less okay). And I’m not talking about gravel that you just march right over; I mean hefty stones that you had to use to pull yourselves along as you climbed upward, where the suddenly less-clearly-marked trail was supposed to be. This was more than I, at least, had bargained for, and well outside my comfort zone. (What was that guide lady thinking, anyway? Or, wait--did I accidentally forget to tone down my “nature’s badass” vibe, and switch over to “adventurous…within reason”? Whoops…my mistake…)

So, much to Derek’s chagrin, the parentals issued an Executive Order, that we were changing the plan and taking an alternate…scenic stroll. Aaannnd, he shouldn’t have worried. As it turned out, the “Flatirons Loop” was anything BUT level, and featured multiple spots in which we had to carefully choose hand and footholds to scramble up and over piles of boulders (some bigger than me--which I know isn’t saying much, but trust me when I tell you that these suckers were huuuuge). Oh, and all the while, we were plowing ever upwards, toward the Royal Arch, which was our final destination…if we made it, that is.

So, it was…difficult? Yep. A little scary? Absolutely. But towards the end, when we weren’t certain how much further it was, or whether we should consider giving up, we passed folks coming the other way from the summit, who assured us that A) we were close, and B) it would be well worth it when we arrived. So, we took their word for it, and kept going…and you know what? They were totally right. The formation itself--like a giant stone keyhole, open to the brilliant blue sky--was awesome enough. But the sweeping view from the top, encompassing the valley and greater Boulder area, was utterly stunning.

Alrighty, then--after we sat for a while and marveled at the vista, all that was left to do was return to the beginning…2-1/2 miles back down the hill, over all of those delightful rockpiles again. Ay yi yi…nothing like an “easy recovery workout”, yeah? Well, yet again we’d earned our lunch in dramatic fashion, so we found a place called Modern Market--a sort of cross between the convenience of fast food and the formality of a sit-down restaurant--where they advertise natural, in-season, fresh ingredients. Yum! 

NOW we could check into our hotel and collapse for the rest of the evening, right? Hahahahaha--that’s adorable. Nope, we had baseball tickets for the 6:40 game between the Rockies and the Mariners, so there was just time to unload the car, clean up a little, and drive into Denver. Husband and I had been to Coors Field waaay back in the day, but the kids had never visited, so it was a new stadium for them to check off their list.

It was just as beautiful as we remembered--the building itself, but also the incomparable panorama presented by the team’s namesake peaks, visible throughout the night over the outfield wall. As the sun sets, the clouds turn pink and the mountains take on a distinctly purplish shade, making for a breathtaking spectacle. The actual contest on the diamond was a slugfest between two teams we don’t care too much about, but it was nice to SIT and appreciate the evening’s entertainment, with no further effort required on our part.

Altogether it was a lovely last full day in Colorado, that brought together several of Team WestEnders’ favorite things: quality time spent communing with the Great Outdoors, and a chance to enjoy America’s pastime. We’ve had some amazing experiences exploring this little corner of the West…and nobody fell off a cliff, so really, I’m calling this a big old W-I-N!