Rocky Mountain Hi-igh

I was off the grid at my brother Tabor's house so I have some blog catch up to do.  Everything has been going swimmingly and every detour I have made to see everyone I've detoured to see has been worth it a million times over. So, to catch you up...

You know that John Denver song, Rocky Mountain High?  I don't.  I only know that one line.

Rocky mountain hi-igh.

I sang it over and over as we drove over the Rockies.  (I am a lot of fun on a road trip.)

The Rockies, besides my singing, were incredible.  At one point we had to detour over a mountain pass because the road was closed because of an accident.  We, along with a lot of other people, snaked over a windy road.

We went up...

and up...

and up.

About this time:

...I decided I had to use the bathroom and it was an emergency.  It may have had something to do with Diet Coke consumption.  (I am a lot of fun on a road trip.)

Luckily, Adam pulled over at a deserted ski resort.  He was able to knock on the door and have someone let us in and I used the bathroom.  He truly is the best sort of husband. 

And the scenery (besides my singing) was truly beautiful.

I can't remember, did I mention it was a little winding?

After we got back to Interstate 70, we saw a lot of this:

and this:

...which was gorgeous.

And we saw some of this:

which wasn't so gorgeous.  (By the way, we were stopped at a rest stop, Mark wore his seat belt when we were driving, I promise.)

We drove through a National Park and up and over another winding mountain pass to where Tabor and Katie and their darling girls reside.

But that is a story for another day.

I have to pace myself.

P.S.  I am going to Nevada tomorrow to continue the whirlwind parade of siblings.  Again, off the grid.  You likely won't hear from me again until I am home.  I'm thinking fondly of my own bed...