Back in ’10 we made our first of several treks to Colorado to spend time with family and get some photography in. We used our time-share and stayed in Vail, which compared to our later trip to Telluride, was like staying in the middle of a giant outdoor shopping mall that happened to have a ski area associated with it. We didn’t spend a whole lot of time in Vail.
As a kid my family and I had vacationed in Colorado, well before freeways and the urban sprawl that has swallowed every small town between Denver and the mountain range. One of our trips, we stayed in a little cabin outside of Estes Park, which was a sleepy cow town at the time and where I saw my first rodeo.
Those of you who are boomers will know what it is like to revisit a place you once visited as a kid and suddenly be totally disoriented by the changes that occurred. It is a similar experience to returning to your home town 20-30 years after you left. Artifacts that are still standing but missing the context you remember as a child can really play tricks with your mind. This first trip back to Colorado was a similar experience.
I have vague memories of the Dillon Reservoir, Central City but when we stopped to shoot this early morning photo of the Reservoir there was little that felt even vaguely familiar. The presence of I-70 had a lot to do with changes that messed with my memories. So, today’s photo is of the east end of the Dillon Reservoir with a back drop of the morning fog rising out of the valleys of distant mountains.