We reluctantly left the Stanley Hotel. But first, breakfast.
We chose The Egg and I partially because it was nearby and partially because it’s the title of one of our favorite movies. Our waitress was from Macedonia and a sweetheart, but the experience was dampened somewhat when the cashier commented to another customer (not knowing that my husband was standing right there) that our baby’s screeching was due to bad parenting and lack of spanking. (Apparently our seven year old sitting quietly and politely did nothing to endorse our parenting skills.) My husband spoke up and pointed out that thirteen months is a bit young for the beatings to start. But I digress…
It occurred to me that there are a few things I haven’t touched on, so I’ll catch up on some details of the trip:
- The Stanley Hotel. It’s on the register of historic hotels. It was built by F. O. Stanley, the Steamer car inventor. It has been visited by Bob Dylan and the emperor of Japan (not necessarily together.) It’s supposedly haunted, including our room. But the only haunting sound we heard was the echo of the baby’s cries as he struggled to fall asleep.
- Here’s a picture of what my baby looks like all stuffed in the car with our luggage.
- Altitude sickness. The struggle is real, people. Not for me, but my husband and daughter are suffering from headaches, earaches, and stomachaches. (And all of us are finding it a little hard to breathe after exercise.) A guy at the hotel recommended altitude pills, some all-natural concoction. So far so good.
- The wildlife. (The following pictures were contributed by my husband. I’m an abysmal photographer.)
Peregrine Falcons: (or maybe a prairie falcon. The husband’s not sure.)
And this guy:
Oh, and the moon.
We finished the park and headed west again, this time on Rt. 70. We drove through Vail, the famous ski town. Sometimes you see places and think, “Oh, that’s why it’s so famous.” Vail was one of those places. Every scene looked like a picture on a postcard. I bet there were some good bakeries there, but we had no time to stop. We next drove through Glenwood Canyon, another amazingly beautiful, breathtaking sight along Route 70, because we were trying to get here:
Glenwood Springs boasts the world’s largest hot springs pool. There is a 104 degree healing pool and a 93 degree swimming pool. Combined, they are over six hundred feet long by one hundred feet wide. Formally established in 1888, the pools were used for centuries by Native Americans. After WWII, they were used therapeutically for injured soldiers. They are loaded with magnesium, manganese, sodium and several other minerals, including lithium. We were all feeling pretty good after that.
After supper we had Polish food at Polanka.
Oh, my lands. The pieroghi alone were worth the six day drive. We watched them make our food from scratch and it was so, so delicious.
After supper the group surprised me with a Dairy Queen cake because it’s my birthday. (Also because they know me and cake is always a worthwhile way to win my affection.)
Apparently this cake was made and frozen in Siberia because we were helpless to cut it, especially with the little plastic knife they gave us.
My loving family chipped and chiseled to give me a piece. I ate it guiltlessly while they waited for theirs to thaw.
Tomorrow we head west toward the desert. Something tells me I’m going to wish I had that cake again.