Today is Memorial Day, and when I think of this holiday, my mind always goes to the time years ago when my then wife Lisa, my sister Susan, brother-in-law George, and myself would head to Rocky Mountain National Park for our annual Memorial Day hike. Susan and George would drive from Fort Collins and Lisa and I would journey from Denver, and meet in Estes Park, where we would take one car and head for the trail-head. Of course, since the higher you went, the deeper the snow and heavier the mist that time of year, it would get to a point where Lisa would start crying and demand we turn around and head back to the car. We would then drive back down to Estes for beers, which I think was the plan all along. And truthfully, hiking is very iffy in that park until July, which I suspect was when the above photograph was taken by my sister Susan of, from left to right, myself, Lisa, my mother Mary, and brother-in-law George. A much less stressful, but also far less exciting, time to visit the park.
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