In Review

Red Stallion Ark And Grill

Before the water got that deep, we watch all eight vehicles slip downstream one at a time. Rising water would reach a tire then gravity took  the vehicle away. Same for every one of them. This was the first time without our dog, luckily. We heard bears were killing dogs, so we left Toby with Grandma.

Some sang religious songs, some prayed "The Lords Prayer". I just told every one, "No, we're not forming a stupid human chain" to cross unknown current, depth, or debris we might encounter and hold hands with this 250 pound (I estimate) woman. Not gonna happen. We're going to wait this out.

A few minutes later a pickup stops, he shines his lights into the building, saw us, and signaled "come on". His lights also illuminated rocks appearing between the kitchen door and the road. A way out. Yes! Let's go!

We sloshed our way up to the road, crawled into back of the pickup under its topper. Eight or so fit, rest waited. I grabbed Diane, we were the first to get out. I did hold her hand though.

Down hill a few miles to Glen Haven, a wasted place by now. A house set up ten feet or so above the road, opposite side from the river now 100 foot or so wide. The road was just a little higher than the water.  We sprang out of the truck. "Thanks man. Good luck." Off he went to find his own disaster at home. Saved our ass!

We climbed ten or so steps to safety in this older couple's home. Our wonderful hostess, gracious in all ways, to maybe 20 displaced guests. She loaned Diane a pair of her shoes, they fit. She had blankets for most. Hikers, a pretty tough bunch, had what they needed on them.

Morning, a light breakfast and off we went. Helicopters, both rescue and network, started at sunrise. Reports on the hike out were that several bodies would be found, a few were across from the house we took refuge in.

As we hiked up the road I started getting mad. We had lost everything 600 miles from home.  Whole place smelled of sewers breached or maybe it was us that smelled, probably both.  When safely at the top of the canyon. A shuttle service provided by locals took refugees to Estes Park, a few miles away.

In Estes Park it was like nothing had happened. New tourists arrived unaware of what had happened. It took till noon before people got the word. No flooding in town. But go anywhere close to the river, roads out, bridges, homes, everything anyone had was gone. Homes higher up were OK but you could not get to them now.

The flood of two rivers Big and Little Thompson converged at Drake, a no longer existing small village on the highway to Estes Park way downstream. Our van and everything else landed there.

The day before, I was fishing Lake Estes, that the lake you see when they show the Stanley Hotel. "The Shining" was filmed there. Stephen King should have been with us last night. Wonder what that would have produced. As I fished, a motor home that read Monitor pulled in near us. We chatted about fish awhile. Then, as vacationers often do, we shared a few beers. He was a terrible fisherman, admittedly so. I told him I was out of beer. He suggested a trade of one fish for one beer. Deal? Sure! He didn't know that he did not have enough beer for that deal. I drank nine of his last beers and he had fish to fry. Big fun had by all. Although I had violated the legal limit of trout, some laws more loosely enforce regarding money spending tourists. Tom and Betty, or Berty, said goodbye as they left to cook nine trout for supper.

Back to our escape.

Sunday, August 1st, Estes Park. Diane "smart girl" kept our Traveler's Checks (before debit cards our bank sold us Traveler's Checks, safer than cash). She never let go of that purse once.

Hitchhiking to Denver's Stapleton Airport to fly home. Smelly, tired, hungry. A parade of every kind of motor home goes on past from both direction

It's getting warmer now, almost hot. Very dry air in Colorado. Wait, hey look is that....... Wow, it's a Monitor motor home and sure enough, out of a thousand vehicles, it's Tom and Betty. Wow, they recognized my hat and pulled over. After a long story, I hit his new supply of Coors.

They dropped us off on their way home  at the bus station in Longmont. Thank God this road was open. Got to the airport and watched the news for the first time. Worse than I thought. Hundreds dead. Damn, we were lucky!!!

Diane's mother and sister picked us up at KCI. After all the hugs, we started to tell it all.  Closing the story with our escape from the canyon. I said to Diane, "Well up is where we need to go on a what's left of the road. Sides to steep. It's road or river. Both full of everything the water brought to this canyon. Cars full of mud, weeds, trash, whatever that blue thing was. Never mentioned the fish after a couple hundred yards. And never mentioned the snakes I saw at all, as she will read this, enough on that subject. Fortunately we saw no human mortality. Mostly one hell of a mess, road washed out, holes to climb in then out, switchbacks gone, now just a raw cliff too steep nearly impassable on foot. Boots would be helpful. But I'm glad to even have tennis shoes on. Diane's were a gracious gift. Things will probably always look different after all this. Wow, civilization. Look! This is where I began our story about a flood, an ark, even an angel or two. And "Yes Susan, we do look like hell!".  "Thanks for the ride but shut the hell up and give me a cigarette!"

(This a true story, I swear to god!)