Below Belief

First time in Colorado – we’re up for the weekend in the Rocky Mountains.

We’re staying in Estes Park – a little tourist trap near the bottom of Longs Peak. The great thing is the town is warm and sunny and just 40 minute drive away up the “highest alsphalt road in the continental US” it is freezing cold, crisp and (sometimes) snowing.

Today we took mountain bikes (in a trailer) to the top of the mountain and free-wheeled the 20 miles down to Estes again. Great fun and an awesome way to see the stunning scenery.

Two more days here and then back to work in Austin. Costa Rica beckons in a week.

These are the mountains, 12,000 ft up:

Cute little ground squirrels/chipmunks, posing for the camera:

Aspens, turning yellow for Fall:

Alberta Falls:

More cute furry things:

Bark of the pine:

And Elk:

S, cold at the top of the mountain (it snowed):

I’m in Austin. I’m here for 3 weeks. It’s wierd being away from home for so long. Luckily S is joining me next week.
Being that we’re in Texas, colleague D and I decided to go and see if we could shoot some guns on a shooting range here in town. I’ve chickened out of this once before – it’s really not my thing – but peer pressure and curiosity spurred me on. We got to the place and the first blow came that in order to hire guns, we’d need US ID. Neither of us is a US resident so it looked unlikely until D piped up that he did have a Californian driving license from a previous year’s stay in the US. They were fine with that and we moved on to select our handguns (we both chose Glocks) and to get a safety briefing – mostly consisting of telling us not to do the first thing which intuitively you do when you pick up an (unloaded) gun – weigh it in your hand, put your hand on the trigger and look down the barrel! These things are not recommended – especially when the Glock has no safety mechanism or lock – if you squeeze the trigger, a bullet fires out. The guy is amazed neither of us has ever shot a gun before and calls us “fresh meat”.
Anyway, sufficiently spooked and nervous at the prospect – and hearing all the loud bangs of other shooters going off in the background, we waited to go through. Then the guy takes a look at Declan’s ID and sees it’s an expired license… everything changes and we’re not allowed to proceed.
Secretly relieved, we head back out to the car and, on the way home, find a golf driving range which suits us much better and spend a relaxing hour whacking balls into the distance.
The morale of this story: don’t shoot guns – they’re designed to kill people.