I’d love to throw some romantic paragraphs in here about this part of our road trip, some perfect words telling tales of sailing through the Rockies, meandering river to one side and stunning peaks to the other, peaceful alpine meadows slipping past the windows as we rolled down the windows to let in cool mountain air.
But I was driving… and I don’t much care for heights.
So while we did indeed see all that, and while it was briefly enjoyable (moreso for the hubby, who was on a well-earned break), my memories include more white knuckles than white mountain peaks, more meandering semi truck drivers than rivers, and more slipping in and out of lanes as gusty winds pushed us all over the place. Also, it was 75 degrees. I’m not sure why there was snow.
Cool, we’ll just enjoy it more on our way home! We have to drive back this way.
Nope, it rained. Lightning in the Rockies is pretty cool, though.
These photos don’t do the place justice, though they’re not terrible for being taken from a moving vehicle on the freeway. Hubby got to play photographer for a change, so credit goes to him for most of these (and also why there aren’t more. I take on average about 13,759 more photos than he does). I may have some serious competition.