I think most people thought I was pretty crazy, going on a hunting trip alone with my boyfriends dad. The fact of the matter is, I knew It would be quite the adventure because his dad is so sweet and a more fun then most 50 year old men. We headed out bright and early (3am) to Platoro Valley. I was quite surprised that not all the leaves had fallen off the trees, there were still some bright yellow ones left.
We ended up in the very southern part of CO right near the New Mexican boarder. We pitched our tent and then headed into the tiny lodge area to have a hearty breakfast. I think one of the funniest thing about the trip was the fact that Rick had his pistol with him wherever we went (on a hike, into town, next to our pillows at night).
It stayed pretty warm the whole weekend, sunny and 50's mid day and down to about 20 degrees at night. Each morning we woke up around 5:30am to begin our hour walk before sunrise. We headed about 1000 vert up and about 2 miles in, to the pastures where we sat. Most mornings we sat from 630am until about 1030am. It was a beautiful peaceful experience having nothing to do but scan the horizon. A lot of good quite time to reflect and talk to God and contemplate life.
I have never really felt like a hick...but putting on the blaze orange and camo has that effect. We stayed Friday until Monday morning, saw tons of tracks...including a bears, but never saw an Elk. I enquired at the lodge everytime went into the little town to see if anyone else had gotten an elk. As it turns out no one else had seen or gotten anything either. I can't lie and say im not just a little disipointed that we didn't get anything, but bottom line is we had a lot of fun.
I was just nice to be camping out again cooking hot dogs over and open fire and getting to know Rick. During one conversation Rick was pointing out an old building which he said was an
"old pawer plant"
"A what" I said
"A pawer plant" he told me,
"A what plant"
..."pawer" he said
"Oh POWER" it hit me.
...you've gotta love his thick Texan accent.
