Items

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  2021-04-12

  21st Birthday Trip, Post-Pandemic

  My twin sister and I turned 20 right after the beginning of the pandemic in April 2020. That birthday was a gigantic bummer, because all my friends had left my college campus and I was still there but couldn't visit home either due to Covid concerns (my parents are in their 60's and my sister has asthma). So, after a year of not traveling or doing very much else, my first post-covid trip was for my 21st birthday. Not yet ready to get back on airplanes but wanting to do something exciting, my mom, dad, sister, and I packed into the van for an 8-hour drive across Colorado to an Airbnb in Durango, near the southwest corner of the state. Durango is a cute little tourist town that's still sleepy from winter in April, and definitely non-traditional for a 21st birthday bash. We had two objectives for the trip: Mom and Dad were going to buy us our first (legal) alcoholic beverages, and we were going to take a ride on the narrow-gauge railroad that ran from Durango to the nearby tourist/old mining town of Silverton. The first goal was accomplished quickly upon our arrival; we located the old Strater hotel, built in 1887, complete with a bar where we immediately situated ourselves. The servers were dressed like flappers, all wearing masks, many matching the colorful fringes of their dresses. I ordered an old fashioned, was tipsy after half, and handed it off to my mom to finish. My dad had a great time shepherding us back to the van. The train ride the next day was the highlight of the trip. We bought tickets in advance, since only a limited number of seats could be filled in each car due to lingering covid precautions. Masks were also still required, except when eating and drinking (a full bar was available, as well as coffee and pastries). The train crept up into the mountains alongside a river, sometimes crossing over very tall trestle bridges, prompting my mom, who's afraid of heights, to pull her mask up over her eyes. Lunch, which was previously served on the train, was instead provided to us in pre-packaged boxes, to be eaten outside at picnic tables along the river where we were free to spread out and remove our masks. On the ride back to Durango, the full bar on the train was open, and most masks came off. My parents bought my sister and I our second drinks of being 21 (mimosas at 3:30pm, woo!) and we headed back to the Airbnb, stopping to pick up some Serious Texas Barbecue. While Covid ruined my plans for the 21st birthday party I thought I would have, it gave me a few years to slow down and to appreciate my family and small, meaningful, gatherings together, which I wouldn't trade for the wildest party in the world.
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  2020-10-30

  Teaching Today

  This is a photo of my friend, Lindsay. She is a high school teacher here in Colorado. We live in a small town that was fortunate enough to not feel the panic of the pandemic until well-after other places had. She misses her students, and there are real concerns for the mental health of not only the kids, but the teachers too.
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  2020-10-13

  Real, Rural Concerns

  My husband, son and I moved (back) to Durango, Colorado from Monument at the end of February. We closed on our house, started back at school and reconnected with the friends we missed while we were away. Then the news stories started popping up here and there about a new and unidentified virus that is showing up in cities. "Good thing we live here!" I thought to myself. We live in the mountains, in a scattered neighborhood outside a small town in a sparsely-populated area of the country. We'll be fine. My husband's job went to 100% telework. Since he works for the Federal Government, I figured it was just very precautionary and we settled into the convenience of having him home! My son's school went on spring break, more time for playing and friends! I saw on the news that all the schools in Wisconsin (my home state) closed for the rest of the year! Holy cow! I still figured we would not see anything real from this now-named Coronavirus. Then my son's school closed for the year. Suddenly, the entire nation, even our little rural hamlet, came to a shuddering halt. By now, it is into March, nearly April. Tourists still show up to get their last ski runs in, and first hikes and rafting trips of the year in. I suppose that is good. Our entire area relies on tourism so if we can keep things moving, that is a positive, right? Well it turns out there is a pretty huge downside of living in a remote area during a pandemic. Yes, we do not come into contact with many people, we don't have a freeway anywhere nearby, and we do not have a large airport. However, we also lack the resources to have a mass of patients at our hospital. There is one main medical facility that serves a very large area. If this virus shows up here, we could be doomed. With my husband and son home, we hunkered in to see what was going to happen. Fast forward to October, and we have had a handful of cases in our county and neighboring ones, despite the rush of Texas and California tourists this summer. We lost a couple cherished restaurants and establishments, and were not immune to this pandemic. But taking an assessment at the moment, I'm pretty proud of our area. There were arguments on masks, social distancing, sports, and restaurants, that shadowed the nation as a whole, but I saw communities band together like never before. Out of this crisis, there blossomed a new understanding and grace lent to our neighbors that we maybe did not express before. New programs popped up to help those who were struggling, because in reality, we were ALL struggling. This area historically struggles with suicide, and there has been an enormous push to reach out to everyone possible and offer all kinds of hands, or ears as the case may be. All in all, I am proud of my community and I am proud of how we are weathering this storm, among so much other commotion battling for our focus.