September 25, 2018: Wonder

Day 18 | 30 Days of Writing

Getting ready to board our cabin with the Marshall

won·der

ˈwəndər/

noun

1.

a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.

"he had stood in front of it, observing the intricacy of the ironwork with the wonder of a child"

My favorite videos to watch are tear-jerkers full of wonder and joy. The baby getting a cochlear implant and hearing her mother's voice for the first time. The boy putting on glasses that allow him to see color after being color-blind his entire life. Their response to these everyday experiences is unfiltered pure joy. We all watch them over and over again.

Wonder and joy are beautiful things. Not taking for granted everyday and hidden treasures is equally gratifying.

Today we took a train ride. A treasure nothing short of spectacular. Larry and I left Durango at 8:00 a.m. via the historic Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. It was a step back in time as we boarded a coach built in 1881.

Garrett drove Zeke on the parallel highway and met us at the end of our one-way ticket trip. A kind act on his part to allow us to experience the train while he cared for the pup who is not allowed on trains. Note that he bought the tickets for us too. Double spouse brownie points earned.

Our guide, Marshall Dreyer, was in full costume including a holstered gun. For 3 1/2 hours he filled us with history and sites of this beautiful country. Every look out our window was full of childlike wonder.

We got to know the couple sitting in front of us. They heard about Zeke and our road trip. It started from a simple question from the man that resulted in a hearty laugh from Larry.

"May I ask a personal question? What is the nature of your relationship?"

Me: "Larry, I'll let you answer and then I'll tell them the truth."

But Larry did tell them that I was his daughter-in-law and how his grand-pup of 60+ pounds wasn't allowed as a train passenger. Thus the absence of my husband, his son.

Their funny question was probably the same one others were thinking. I was a little out of place and we were the odd couple, comparatively. I'm pretty sure I was the only passenger in our cabin under the age of sixty-five. I was also the only one wearing a dress and heeled boots. Everyone else was in some form of Patagonia hiking or outdoor coordinates.

My dress choice was deliberate. I had never ridden a train before and my grandma had always professed to dressing up for plane rides. I felt a train ride needed the same high regard. I had purchased the denim embroidered number last night in downtown Durango. When Garrett thought I would be missing pants, the only thing I missed were my coordinating red cowboy boots. Who needs hiking gear when you're riding a train?

The ride ended in Silverton with Zeke and Garrett waiting for us. Our neighbors on the train got out ahead and recognized the duo who was likely the absent husband and dog we discussed. They took their chances and said Hi to Zeke and let Garrett know we were coming behind them.

Next stop was Ouray, Colorado. This was fun for me. A childhood friend of mine moved with her family to Ouray when we were in grade school. She and I wrote countless letters back and forth. She often sent wintery mountain post cards with stunning scenery and described in detail her new life in the mountains, which was so starkly different than the only life I knew in Iowa.

Via FaceBook, I traded messages with my friend who now lives in Missouri. She told me one of her sisters still lived in Ouray and owned a burger shop on main street. She also told me the name of the lodge her family owned and operated. Maggie's Kitchen was our lunch stop and although the sister was not there, I had a nice conversation with her husband who was working the lunch crowd.

Leaving Ouray, we drove past my friend's childhood home, the lodge, and I matched my childhood imagination with the real Ouray. They were pretty darn close (the postcards likely helped).

On to Telluride with an overload of nature's magnificence. The oranges, reds, greens from the many trees and landscapes were like paint strokes on the canvas outside our car windows. Exhausted in a good way, we are now at our new overnight digs in the ski city of Telluride, Colorado. We've taken a gondola ride (Zeke was not a fan) and then enjoyed a walk through their historic downtown area (Zeke was a big fan). Now we are relaxing to the sounds of the fresh spring rapids outside our window.

The night likely will entail me taking a dip in the lodge hot tub. For some reason the sky and stars seem much clearer here. But then again, maybe I just haven't been looking close enough. I wonder....

(some pics of the day)