Chronicles of the Colorado Adventure: Day 3

It was Monday, so Uncle Greg had to go back to work, and we females were left to our own devices. The devices we were left to were fixing a nice supper for Uncle Greg. The kitchen was barely large enough to accommodate Mom and Aunt Kelly, so I was kicked out to Facebook, blog, and offer moral support from the sidelines as they endeavored to convert Mom's roll recipe to suit the high altitude. When as much pre-meal preparation as possible had been done, we decided to head into Boulder and explore the Pearl Street outdoor walking mall. We started out following directions, which soon proved to be completely unhelpful. So, we threw the directions out the window (figuratively, of course), and proceeded to find the way on our own.

I was extremely thankful that I'd had the foresight to bring only a small amount of money with me. If I hadn't limited myself, I could easily have squandered my slim savings in some of the mall shops. There were lots and lots and lots of stores staffed by internationals who spoke just enough English to try to sell me imported jewelry, wrap skirts, etc. The merchandise was beautiful, exotic, totally non-American, and (thank goodness) mostly out of my price range. I kept reminding myself that I would not borrow any money from Mom. That I did not need any more clothes. Or jewelry. Or scarves. Or cool little nick-nacks. Or purses. I looked long, bought nothing, and came away smelling of the strong incense that seemed to be pervading every single shop.

I didn't have a watch or my phone (being the brilliant person that I am, I had left both of these items in the car, parked several blocks away), but I guessed that it was getting pretty close to the time when I was supposed to meet back up with Mom and Aunt Kelly. I went to the place where I was supposed to meet them. They weren't there. I was accosted by a very friendly environmentalist chap who wanted me to give his organization money so that they could stop pollution, clean up polluted water, and save the world. I finally managed to convince him that I didn't have any money to spare and make my escape. Still no Mom and Aunt Kelly. I sat down and surveyed the people around me. I decided that, if Nederland is the place for young hippies, then Boulder is the spot where old hippies congregate. I watched them walking past. I listened to a group of them playing a battered old guitar and singing. And I wondered what had become of Mom and Aunt Kelly. At length, a brilliant idea struck me. I had my camera, and it has a clock in it. I pulled out the camera, and discovered that it was still set on English time. I did a quick conversion, and my suspicions were confirmed. They were late. Oh well! Nothing for it but hang out with the hippies and assorted shoppers a bit longer, I decided.

I at last connected with the tardy relatives, and we came to the conclusion that we'd seen everything we wanted to see at the mall. So, we decided to try to find our way back out of town and head towards Boulder Falls.
We found the falls without any trouble. We took the short hike up to view them, snapped a few pictures, and headed back after chatting with a very friendly, very inquisitive lady. Gotta love the random people you meet at waterfalls!

The high altitude cooking experiments we ate for supper were a success. I hadn't eaten any lunch, and my stomach was firmly convinced that my throat was cut. This might have been the cause of my favorable impressions of the food, but I think not. The women in my family (with the possible exception of myself) can cook, high altitude or not. 

After the supper things had been packed away in the dishwasher (I am in love with those machines and am determined to own one someday), Mom and I took a walk around a nearby lake. We watched the sun settling down to sleep behind the mountains, pulling its cloak of vibrant clouds around itself. We saw the light fade away, and the darkness gradually creep in to take its place. And we said our goodbyes to Colorado. 

If you're interested, more of my Colorado pictures can be found here: Caileigh Jane Smith: Photographer