E-bikes - A New Era

My husband and I recently purchased  e-bikes. This after we poked fun of our younger friends who  purchased 2 of them ahead of us.  “What, now you are too old to pedal?” we chided.Then we thought about it. Those hills we no longer climb because it’s just too hard to get to the top or those distances that take too long to cover.  We love to bike but we have lost interest in pushing our limits. One too rigorous morning ride can set you off your feet for the rest of the day.

Since that purchase I have encountered two other couples, close to my age, who have also recently bought e-bikes.  There is an epidemic emerging out there.  And I get it. My husband and I have biked for many years and had begun to lament the limitations imposed by aging bodies and declining stamina. Now a whole new experience has presented itself. We have twice ridden to the top of the mountain behind our home, a total elevation gain of 1300 feet, with no problem. This morning I took a lovely 20 mile bike ride along our hilly country road, pedaling at a pace I could choose regardless of the terrain. It was great fun!

If only technology can stay abreast of my increasing limitations, aging might not be such an uphill climb as I had anticipated.

By: Bonnie Shetler

What did you say?

Recently I was at a social gathering with my husband. We were trying to talk with a friend but the background noise of others made it almost impossible for my husband to hear. He put his hands by his ears to indicate hearing issue. The conversation instantly changed as the other person also admitted they had on hearing aids!  Both people then started playing with their volume control to see if that would make the conversation easier, while I innocently sat near-by and listened to the buzz of the aids being turned up too much. Truth be told, I know I will soon be also joining this elite group! I don’t dread the devices, but I sure dread changing those itty, bitty tiny batteries!

By: Kirsten Hartman

Hot Chili with Snow

Every year around this time, I begin to think about the upcoming holidays: gifts, cards, cookies and decorating. It can be overwhelming. But let's face it, reminders are everywhere and most of us will strive to focus on our own traditions. Asking ourselves, how can we balance our time with friends, family and ignore the commercial noise that has a way of seeping through?

For us, we anticipate our December tradition of going to the mountains to cut our own tree. Even if it is windy and 20 degrees, we will bundle up, throw in extra wraps and go.

This began in the late '70's (1 car, 5 of us), but now has expanded to about 8 young families in a caravan of cars, pickups jostling along the bumpy snowy road near Red Feather Lakes.  (Sometimes you are lucky enough to see Smokey the Bear.)  Arriving, boots are pulled on, hoods and jackets zipped up...and with saws in hand, everyone is off in different directions to find the perfect tree. Will it be a lodgepole pine or more delicate Douglas fir this year? An hour later, dragging trees through the snow to the vehicles, they are stood up and twirled around so everyone can see. Perfect! Soon then hoisted into the back of the pickup or tied atop a van, and now everyone is hungry. A few camp tables and chairs are pulled out and we have set up a hearty outdoor spread. Camp stoves are fired up so there is hot chili, corn bread, decorated cookies and more. Hands wrapped around hot mugs, the adults catch up and after a while begin to talk about their progressive dinner – a full evening of going house to house, admiring each others trees. We enjoy the scene and usually remark later “isn't this the best time?!”

Let us know...What is your “best time” in December? 

If you go:

Northern Colorado: Red Feather Lakes area

(Leave early and allow at least 1 hr to get there)

4 WD or chains  (Bundle up and don't forget your saw and rope!)

Open Dec. 7-15, 2019. Entrance open 8:30-2:30

Permit ($20 per tree) Cash only...on weekends pay at entrance station to the forest.

If you go on week day, permits (cash) can be purchased at 

US Forest Service in Ft. Collins 2150 Centre Ave., Building E (closed Wed)

More directions plus a good map! Google - Christmas Tree Sales Roosevelt National Forest

By: Meliss Anderson

Joys of moving

Recently we have downsized. In preparation we sorted thru clothes, books, papers, and more. Upon moving however, we discovered that we had not “ downsized” enough in the realm of furniture! Now it’s time to start selling! By: Kirsten Hartman

Return to Maine

I’ve been a westerner for a whole lots of years now, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the state of Maine. When I was 16, my dad changed jobs and dragged the family, kicking and screaming, from Seattle to Philadelphia. By August of that year, when my dad’s vacation time came up, we had a single plan—to drive north to escape the heat and humidity. We didn’t stop until we got to Maine. And every year thereafter, we looked forward to the trek north in August.

After a long absence, I just returned from a magic week on Orrs Island, Maine where my son-in-law’s family has been summering since 1910. Charles Henry Arndt, an Episcopal priest in Philadelphia, must have been feeling the heat way back then when he established a summer chapel on the island and built a house there for his wife and three sons. It is still in the family, owned and managed by some of his descendants. Other family members have migrated there as well. There are Arndts all over the place.

In the early 1900s, the trip from Philadelphia took two days beginning with a trolley ride to the train station, a train to New York, a taxi to the dock, an overnight boat to Boston, then a steamer to Orrs Island and a carriage ride to the house. 

The Arndts have become a family of sailors, some of them skilled enough to sail across oceans. There are fish to be caught, beaches to comb, trails to explore, and for those gutsy enough, there’s a unique bridge to jump from into the bay and distinctly refreshing water to swim in. This year I only got wet once when three of us managed to capsize a small rowboat, making for a good story to tell.

There’s a fireplace in the living room that has big windows facing the water, a quiet room to escape to for a solitary read, an impossibly difficult jigsaw puzzle challenge and all the time in the world to sit around and talk.

Dinners can start off with a table set for eight and end up with an extra four people. The food always seemed to stretch as needed. Of course, we had to have a traditional lobster dinner.

Wandering the side roads and villages in Maine is like walking through a picture post card.

For me, the place is full of memories: cool nights, boat rides, long walks and good fellowship.

 

By: Libby James

Goodbye, Geneva

My Mother-in-law, Geneva, died this morning. For the past 5 days she has struggled to leave a 100 year old body that refused to let go. And for those 5 days her 5 children, their spouses, many grandchildren and great grandchildren have kept watch over her, saying goodbye, overseeing her comfort and ensuring that her death would not be unattended. Today we share a collective sigh of relief wrapped around our sense of loss, gratitude, and love for a strong woman whose generous spirit and loving nature touched each of us. She addressed our higher qualities and assumed the lower ones would ultimately fade into obscurity.  As a family we organized ourselves around her and my father-in-law who died last December at age 101. With many of us living so far from the family home and from each other, It remains to be seen how we redefine and maintain our connections. Yet another of life’s inevitable transitions.

By: Bonnie Shetler

Joys of Hiking Post-75

Last weekend we decided to get our hiking legs back in shape after a lazy month along the shores of Lake Michigan. We headed to one of our favorite trails to the ridge near Meadow Mt. (RMNP). We arrived by 6:30 a.m. to beat the heat, 90 degrees that day. The goal was to take in the beautiful views from the ridge above, about 2500' elevation gain (7 mi. round trip). Successfully we snagged a parking spot and with hiking sticks in hand, we started up into the quiet forest enjoying the peaceful morning. No conversation, just moving at a nice steady pace, watching where our feet were landing so we could return without any new tweaks to the joints. Then somewhere along the rocky, steep part, we were reminded of what we uttered 2 yrs ago, “we're never doing this hike again!” (Main reason is that going down is so hard on the knees.) What were we thinking?  However we kept on, becoming distracted with the last of the wildflowers, especially the deep blue bottled gentian.

About midway as the sun started beating down, we needed some good conversation to keep us going, nothing funny or entertaining came to mind -- we were getting testy. A little later another couple, a bit younger, came by and blurted out, “We're not having any fun!” We heartily agreed. Then, some strapping shirtless young men came by, charging up the trail on their way to summit St. Vrain Mt, coaxing their big furry dog to keep up. Poor thing, all he wanted to do was lie down in the little bit of shade. Smart dog! Later we wondered if the dog survived their enthusiasm or collapsed somewhere with heat stroke.

About 30 min from our destination, I could feel I needed more calories, the rest of my Payday saved the day. This wasn't normal for me: was it the heat, altitude or attitude? Hiking those last steps to the ridge was exhilarating, especially when the chilly wind hit us full blast. Wrapped up in my jacket and sitting on a rock, the panoramic views into Wild Basin and over to Longs Peak made it all worth it. It was glorious, lots of pictures were taken, but we still said, “Beautiful, but this IS our last time!”  Well, maybe.

By: Meliss Anderson