I promised to write about our time at the Chuckwagon Dinner Show at the Flying W Ranch last night. It was great fun! We could hear a rodeo taking place up the hill but that’s not what we were there for. We were there for supper and music. Although the rodeo sounded like a good time too.
Since we were early we watched some Native American dancing by a Navajo/Ute/Cherokee family. The main singer/drummer was the patriarch of the family and he told us about his ten children, all of whom have a college education, something he stressed numerous times: the importance of education. His wife, who is in her sixties, did a hoop dancing routine that was impressive. His granddaughter did a sign language routine. There was an eagle dance by another one of their group; it was fascinating to see the native costumes, hear a bit of their history, and watch the artistic expression of their culture. He expressed his love for our country, which I found rather profound, somehow.
When dinnertime rolled around we all went into the huge, timber frame building for supper. Long picnic tables ran the length of the building from side-to-side with an aisle up the middle and aisles on both sides. All the sides and the back were made up of garage doors, all of which were wide open so that it was more like a gigantic picnic pavilion than a building. At the front was a large stage with a full-wall video screen behind it. The beams up above held hundreds (I’m guessing) of saddles and cowboy memorabilia lined the walls and the hearth on the giant fireplace up front.
It was hard to imagine the devastating fires that ravaged this place a few short years ago. We were scheduled to visit on our last trip in 2018 but it had all been destroyed by the wild fires that took everything except a small personal library that is on the property. The family rebuilt and it is now back in full swing. The huge red rock formations that rise up throughout the ranch are a reminder that we really are in the wild west after all, the land of authentic cowboys and Indians.
A hearty dinner served on tin plates commemorated the trail ride meals from long ago. I’m sure the meal we enjoyed was much better than those from the hot, dusty cattle rides. Our menu was brisket, chicken, baked potato, pork n beans, applesauce and cake. We walked through the food line with our tin plates, holding them out to be filled. The host had cautioned us to hold the plates on the spot where the applesauce was plopped else our hands would feel the heat from all the hot entrees. Same with the hot coffee-he said we have ten seconds to get to our table before it’s too hot to hold.
The after dinner show was filled with music, jokes, and stories and highly entertaining. I’m not a big country music fan but this was different. As one of the entertainers said, country music is singing about women and failed love lives. Cowboy music is singing about your cows and horses. Great harmony, instrumentals, audience involvement, high energy and lots of talent brought new life to old classics. Their rendition of God Bless America almost brought tears to my eyes. While they sang the screen behind them came alive with scenes from the old west and the spectacular scenery from then and now.
After a good night’s sleep we were ready another day filled with adventures. We left the hotel at 8:15 with the prospect of beautiful weather ahead.
Last time we were at the Royal Gorge it was too windy for the zip line to be functioning. So Pearl, Merv and I went on the big swing on the edge of the cliff. To say that was an adrenaline rush was putting it mildly. This year we were hoping to do the zip line if the weather cooperated and it did. We three decided to do it first thing in case the wind decided to whip up again and it was beautiful, skimming above the canyon. Quite a few of our group ended up doing the zip line before the day ended. One lady got stuck over the canyon (not one of ours) and someone (again, not one of our group) had to saddle up and go out to pull her in. They told us if a crosswind hits just right, or just wrong, it can bring you to a stop. Several of us thought that would have been rather exciting. Several others were not of the same opinion.
Crossing over in the tram car, one lady clung to her husband in stark terror for the duration of the ride. I sympathized with her because, although heights don’t bother me, the memory of those nasty few minutes in the tiny pod at the arch helped me to empathize with her fear. Interesting how each of us, or most of us, have an irrational fear or two. And I’m of the personal opinion that those who claim they are above such weakness have simply managed to hide it better than the rest of us.
Paul and Sam are both still struggling with elevation issues. The headaches are gone but the dizziness remains. Paul said he almost passed out going up some steps today but he managed to hobble into an air-conditioned café at the gorge, where he stayed until we left. Sam told us he went into the restroom at the top of Pike’s Peak and met a man moving toward the door. He moved left to let the man pass. The man likewise moved in the same direction. Sam moved right, so did the man. This went on for another five rounds or so and Sam said he was wishing the man would make up his mind which way he wanted to go. All of a sudden he realized the man was himself, in the mirror!!!! So I think the oxygen deprivation was real. And I’d give a lot for a video of Sam trying to dodge himself.
After we left the Gorge we went to Canyon City to pick up Martha. She started the trip with us but left about twenty-four hours later to fly back to Ohio. Her sister Sharon had been battling cancer for a decade and was not doing well. Family called and recommended Martha head back if she wanted to see Sharon once again before she was gone. She flew out of Hutchinson, Kansas and arrived in time to say her final goodbyes. The next few days were spent with family, grieving their loss, celebrating Sharon, and laying her to rest.
At her family’s urging, Martha flew to Colorado Springs to rejoin our group, something she knew Sharon would have wanted her to do. And we are all happy to have her back. We met her in Canyon City (the relative of a family member lived nearby and had picked her up at the airport) where she rejoined us as we headed for our hotel in Alamosa. Our drive this afternoon and into the evening passed through much beautiful scenery to which no pictures can do justice. We arrived early at our hotel, went our separate ways for supper, and spent a relaxing evening unwinding.
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