Rocky Mountains

Being a single man full of wanderlust, I found myself staying in a log cabin in the Rocky Mountains. The little town of Silvercliff, Colorado lays in a valley at 8,500 feet. Yet the majestic peaks of Harvard, Princeton and Yale still loomed over the small mining town.

Back in Austin, the rigors of running my own computer business had driven me to the mountains. I called it a vacation but, in reality, I was running away.

Peaceful and quiet, clean air and the fantastic view was good medicine. So I lingered as long as I could. My old 1952 Plymouth wasn't running well so I sold it. An antique car is always worth something.

I discovered a 1946 Studebaker pickup truck. It had belonged to the Little Egypt Uranium Company, now closed. The old relic was languishing in the overgrown front yard of a ramshackle home. A tree was growing thru its rusted bed. But my love of old vehicles got the best of me and I closed the deal. I made a few repairs and, believe it or not, it started right up! All too soon business in Austin demanded I return.

The Rocky Mountains faded in the rear view mirror, and I vowed to return one day. I drove the old truck all the way back to Austin, having one flat tire as the only problem.

On my front porch, I set up my easel, got out my watercolors, and come up with Colorado Mountains.

Written by Edmund Fratus . . . Copyright 9/26/2017