May 31, 1914

I asked a man, “How often is the sky this blue?”  He only smiled and walked away.

I hopped on the trolley and returned to a busy Union Train Station. Women in colorful hats and dresses brightened the waiting area.  Most of the men held fishing rods in one hand and picnic baskets in the other while they instructed the porters carrying their luggage. Children ran around benches and through the groups of adults in the chaotic atmosphere.  I boarded a car at the end of the train and sat next to one of the few remaining windows.  Most of the windows had fishing rods sticking out, and the train resembled a long, hairy caterpillar crawling up the winding canyon.

Soon we reached a gentle section of South Boulder Creek, and the train stopped to let anglers, picnickers and campers depart. Closer to Rollinsville, more campers left with passengers assuring them that Manchester Lake will still have snow. The tracks continued a gentle climb following the creek. We passed the Golden Slipper Mine and the little burg of Tolland. Shortly, the rails made a U-turn, and we were headed east. It was the first of many switchbacks during the steady climb up Rollins Pass and James Peak. The route traveled counterclockwise around Yankee Doodle Lake, a splendid name, and continued to vertigo inducing heights. The train stopped again at Needle’s Eye Tunnel. Passengers were encouraged to stretch their legs. I photographed the tunnel. We re-boarded and soon reached Corona Station, the summit of the pass and the Continental Divide. The ground was covered with snow. I was told the melted water of the creeks along our ascent flowed to the Atlantic Ocean and those on the descending side streamed to the Pacific.  I received my luncheon in a paper sack at the restaurant and had trouble eating. I wondered why anyone would stay at the remote hotel, but conceded the views were simply outstanding.

I also pondered how Uncle Thomas would receive me. Would he be angry with me following his father’s footsteps? I hoped he would not be indifferent but rather consoling and happy to see me. I knew I could pitch it all and return to Denver or anywhere I bloody well pleased. I did want to see him. I made a snowball, my first in America and maybe the second or third in my life. I threw it with all my might. It disappeared the moment it hit the white earth.

Eventually, the train started down the western slope switchbacks.  A strange sensation continued in my core as I looked out the window at the steep mountain side that fell sharply for a thousand feet only a few level feet from the steel ribbons that carried the train.  If the train left the tracks, it would be certain death.  The passengers would be unrecognizable in the twisted steel.  I was glad I did not eat my lunch. At Riflesight Notch the rails made a 360-degree loop across a massive trestle and continued circling through a tunnel.  When we reached the valley floor, I felt, with confidence, I could finally eat my lunch and keep it in me.

Uncle Thomas stood on the station platform at Hot Sulphur Springs.  His broad shoulders, thick brown hair and bowed legs were backlit with evening sun.  “Thomas, you have not changed at all,” I said.

“Well, you have Julius,” he replied.  “You are a man now not a skinny boy.  How is the health of my brother and your mother?”

“They both are well.”

“Any news concerning the estate and master?”

“The estate is still profitable, and the master is still the master.”

“This is what I expected.  How was your journey?”

“Long but wonderful.  I liked the clean breezes of the ocean voyage.  The armored cruiser, the USS Colorado, escorted us.”

Thomas’s eyes were alarmed. “Tensions are high in Europe and U-boats patrol the ocean,” he stated.

“Really joking, it was just in the harbor. Except for worrying about icebergs in the beginning, it was an enjoyable crossing.  I took photographs; I’ll show them to you once I get them developed. I didn’t like New York City.  It was far too busy and impersonal.  Denver appealed and Lyulph Ogilvy got me drunk. His nickname is Lord and he seems to like it. The train trip was ripping and a bit frightening in the mountains coming here.  The States are so different from England.  They’re vast areas with no trees or people.  I say, old man, are the skies always so blue in Colorado?”

“The Scotsman loves his whiskey, and to answer your question, yes and no, the weather changes quickly.” He waved hand at the sky, “It can rain, snow and be sunny on the same day.”

“That can’t be true.”

He smiled, “It is true. Winter is a bit milder here in Hot Sulphur. Steamboat Springs has standing snow for the entire winter season.  Both towns have warm summer days, cool nights and hot springs. There is little humidity.”

“That is an odd, town name for my new home of banishment.”

We started walking to the baggage room. “I was sorry for you when I read the letter, but happy you were sent here.  You know the master’s word is the same as the law. Curb your lustful nature. Don’t make the same mistakes again,” he pointed his index finger at me.

“I don’t want to end up like Grandfather.”

He continued knowingly, “Good, that’s a start in the right direction. You will like Steamboat.  It’s a thriving community. There are many mineral springs, the same as here.  Once you get used to the altitude, you will find breathing easier and a great feeling of good health.  I have a fly rod for you. Would you like to fish in the morning?”

“Yes, there were many fishermen on the train.  What kinds of fish live here?”

“Firm, delicious trout and the mountain white fish which are unique and fun to catch. The spring runoff is quite high this year. We won’t be wading but fishing the slower edges should be safe enough. The trout are lazy and instinctively strive to spend the least amount of energy. They’ll be in the slower water.  I will help you with your luggage.” He pointed toward a canyon, “My home is that way. We’ll get you settled and then I’ll treat you to a beef steak supper.”

I realize Uncle Thomas was my mentor and taught me so much about life, honor, fishing and raising horses. As a country veterinarian, he showed me the wonder of aiding and seeing animals at birth. I had spent most of my childhood free time in his stables. I am lucky to have him living in Colorado. Even though ten years my senior, we have a closer friendship than I have with my older brothers near his age. I’ll miss everyone in England. Hopefully, I’ll see them again, but I have a feeling it won’t be soon. I must say it comforts me to be with a family member again, but my future scares the hell out of me.