Back from Colorado, where it was a different world, different me. I was Betsy for 5 days. How strange was it to introduce myself to guides, to strangers, as Betsy, and to have them call me Betsy? But that's who I was for 5 days, among people I've known since 3rd grade, from my former life. I had a great time, I really enjoyed it. I felt surrounded by really, really nice people, part of a group. There were lots of times when I noticed that there were conversations going on all around me, everyone was talking to someone except me, but it didn't bother me: that was how it was when we were young, that's what I've always been like. These people are very nice, caring, funny, clever, intelligent people whose company I have always craved. I feel lucky that they have included me in their circle. Last time I was with them I wasn't sure they wanted me there, I wasn't sure I was welcome and I didn't feel much part of the group. This time it was better, I felt part of the circle. There were two who had never been part of this ritual and one who had missed a few, so everyone was into the scene in a different, less ritualistic way. It was great.

And COLORADO! What a great place. I have always loved Colorado. I used to feel it was the second place I was meant to live, 2nd only to the Adirondacks. I still feel more at home there than in many places, but of course Vail is not a place I would fit in. It was beautiful and we saw places where there are few enough people living so that I would feel comfortable there. Big sheep farms, with small, round trailer-type things on wheels that our guide told us were what the sheep-herders lived in when the sheep were in the fields. Cool.

We had fun hiking, but it was really hard on my asthmatic lungs to keep up. Luckily there were a number of us who weren't interested in charging ahead so we all stopped and sat to visit while the rest of the group went on ahead. We had taken the gondola to the top of the Vail ski center. The view was spectacular, lots of snow-capped peaks (SCP's) and many more varieties of wildflowers than I'd anticipated. Kathy and I had great fun trying to see how many we could identify. I bought some seeds to plant at home. Wild irises, Indian paintbrush and something else I forget what.

We took fly fishing lessons that were just fantastic. I'VE FISHED THE COLORADO RIVER! We put on our waders at the foot of this steep incline, then clambered up (painfully and very tentatively) and back down again on the other side. I totally surprised myself with my bravery at walking along the edge of a drop-off. I can never, ever do that in the Adirondacks, but I had to do it to get where we were going. They weren't going to leave me behind! So we got to the river, which was nestled in the hills, very pretty. Some rudimentary instruction, then into the water we went with our guides. Priscilla and I had one guide to ourselves, a really cool 25-year old from college graduate from Wisconsin (whom we have much parental advice to during the 40 minute rides to and from the fishing site). He kept complimenting me on my casts--"That was perfect! Now you've got it!" What a great ego builder. I learned about the mend, rolling your line ahead of your flies. I finally caught what felt like a huge fish, set the hook, played it a little, but failed to land it. Priscilla caught one, which jumped out of the water, but then spit the hook out. She had the same problem I did in letting the fish play the line. But boy did we have fun. And I loved the way our guide "handled" us. Respectful but not overly solicitous. We walked back to the vehicles in hot, hot sun, but very happy. Long ride home.

HORSEBACK RIDING!! Rode up to a famous cabin/restaurant. Again, I was nervous. Last time I rode I was bucked over the horse's head at a full gallop and landed on my back. This horse, however, was very nice. He trotted voluntarily a couple of times but let me boss him around a little bit as well. Kathy had a huge black steed named Waylon. Priscilla, behind me, was on Rebel. I was on Santiago. Again we were on narrow trails with steep inclines and I was nervous. We saw Tom Hanks' huge house in Beaver Creek. This time our guide was Claus from Germany, probably the only cowboy who's also an interior designer. It was a lot of fun, and the dinner we had was delicious. Lots of wine, lots of food, and lots of laughter. I sat with Julie Anderson, who played the flute in 7th grade orchestra with me. Or I played with her. She was masterful, still is. It was really nice to have a chance to talk to her. These women are all remarkable in their own rite.

Saturday 6 of us went rafting on the Colorado. This was really great. Class II and III rapids ( out of VI). We had another wonderful guide, who was fantastic to us. At one point he stopped paddling and steering, sat back and said, "OK ladies, teamwork--I want you to get the raft between those two rocks." We tried, paddled like mad through the rapids, almost made it, but in the end got hung up and laughed a lot. At one point Priscilla and I jumped into the water and swam, floating down the river with the raft. The water was great.

Interspersed all of these activities was shopping, visiting, laughing, drinking, watching the moon rise, sleeping in bunk beds, talking about our lives, their children and feeling such a kinship with each other. Last time I felt completely different from all of them, as if I led a life that couldn't be more different. I am still the only one who has no life partner, but it doesn't make me feel different this time--that's just what my life is. I have no children, but there are 3 others as well. I find that immensely comforting.

I missed my brother terribly during this time, probably because these are people I knew from my Rockford days and it brought up memories of him. One woman wanted us to tell the best thing that happened to us since our last gathering, and the worst thing. I started to cry, knowing that Henry's death was the worst thing and knowing that I couldn't and didn't want to share this with them. The pain of losing him was so keen during these days, the tears always so near the surface. I wanted to be able to tell him about each of these people, to see who he would remember, knowing he would be interested in Kathy and some of the others, knowing he would tease me about some. And each recollection about Rockford, each mention of Rockford makes me think of him.

So I cried on the ferry last night, nearly home at last, the trip ending. I cried for Henry, I cried for my past. I miss him so much.

And today I'm at work, barely catching up and gearing up for the next phase of my summer: vacation with my sister, her daughter and my mother. Some time in Rhode Island and some time here. Many cousins will be with us here. yeow.