I may have mentioned that I need My Own Time.  There are a few things that make getting My Own Time really hard.  Having small children in your care is high up there.  And a close second is travel.

After a massive move and two weeks of constant togetherness in Breckenridge it was time.

Now please understand that Ron gets this about me. I’m an early riser and he sleeps in most mornings allegedly to give me at least a couple of glorious hours to myself.  I usually spend this time writing and reading. But every once in awhile I need a whole day, an afternoon and sometimes a weekend to myself.

After a few choice verbal exchanges, it was clear to both of us, the time had come.  Off to the hiking trail.

Hiking in the mountains in the closest I have ever come to a truly spiritual experience.  I adore it. I need it. But it’s early in the season here in Breck and many of the high trails are closed or mud pits.  But there are plenty of trails in town and at lower altitudes to keep us busy while the higher trails dry out.

We had already walked along one of the low trails along the Blue River just outside of town. This was where we met some fire fighters practicing water rescue. One guy, poor soul, got to be the victim. His job was to throw himself into water that had been snow or ice about 20 minutes earlier. The others practiced throwing him a bright yellow tethered buoy, in just the right spot where he would be carried up to it by the (ridiculously) fast water. If the throw was too short, he would be carried right past it.  Too long and he might have to bump through several rocks to get to it.

They managed to save him two times out of three as we watched. Practice makes perfect.

So this afternoon, My Own Time, I decided to follow the Blue River further south, as it wanders through the town of Breckenridge.  First I followed the path behind the Main Street shops. I was rewarded immediately by a fox sighting.

Apparently, this fox, or a relative of this fox, has occupied a home right on Main Street for years.  There’s a painting of her hanging on the wall in our rental that was done in 2001. She returns to raise her kits under this abandoned house and is seemingly oblivious to the spring and summer crowds that swarm down the street.  Fenced off in a yard next to her home, the crowds are kept at bay while this Foxy Lady comes and goes in stealth to hunt and feed her kits.  Later in the week we saw her two blocks away up on Ridge Street carrying a treat home to her kits.

On this afternoon, I looked at her, she looked at me, I said “hey” and she twitched her ear.  “Hey back”, in fox.

Connection made, off I went through the alley that parallels Main Street.  Here I met The Real People of Breckenridge.  The wait staff heading to work, or catching a smoke. Aproned, name-tagged, friendly.

Further down I found a wild flower garden not quite in bloom. Just a few Butter Cups and Johnny Jump Ups inching their way out of the dirt toward the sun.

Then I rounded the corner and saw a boat. A big boat. Seriously? Yep, this is the Gold Dredger..

According to the Town of Breckenridge website, in the late 1800s dredge boats began working the river, literally chewing up the riverbed looking for that illusive gold. These two-story pontoon boats used great lines of buckets to dredge up to 70 feet deep. They took everything. All vegetation, all bedrock, even the buildings along the river. Few historic building survived along Main Street thanks to these dredge happy boats.

And now this one, is a restaurant (of course). And apparently closed for the off-season. Looking pretty creepy and kitschy, I might add.

Further down the path I saw some huge, clear, inflated balls bobbing on a pond at the south side of town.  What? They were all set up to take passengers who would enter the balls and … whatever. But not today. Tables were set up to take each customer’s Waiver of Liability.  And cash. But now, the balls were empty. Too bad. I would have loved to see the flailing and falling that would surely take place inside them.  Another time…

As I made my way back home I passed the gondola. It had been closed for the two weeks that we’ve been in town. But today it was going!  Opening day, said one of the employees. I looked over at the cars and most were empty. The door opened and slowly slid by. A nice young man offered me his hand to enter a car.  A whole car all to myself.

Why not?