People, places and the planet
When I was a sophomore in college, I visited my roommate over winter break in her hometown of Colorado Springs. I hadn’t been to Colorado before, and waking up to look out the window at a snowy Pikes Peak was an experience I can’t put into words – I didn’t know views like that existed in real life.
Over the next few days of tromping around the Garden of the Gods, experiencing the best Chai latte I’ve ever had at Agia Sophia Coffee Shop and exploring the Rockies, I was hooked and immediately decided to return as soon as possible.
That same month, I applied to work in Estes Park at the YMCA of the Rockies, which is practically a resort on the edge of the Rocky Mountain National Park. And I was hired to be a camp counselor. After I finished finals and spent a week at home, I packed my car and headed west. Thankfully, my dad wanted to make the trip with me out to Estes, committing to 20-plus hours of driving and an endless stream of audio books.
The theme song of our trip was (obviously) John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High,” and over the course of that road trip, Dad exposed me to some of Denver’s other classics. When we got to Estes, we took a picture with the city sign (snowcapped mountains behind us), gasped as we saw elk wandering on the side of the road and were amazed at how “rocky” the Rockies actually were. Classic tourists.
Soon after we arrived though, Dad took a shuttle to the airport from the Y, and I was left to fend for myself in a place where I essentially knew nobody. And I loved it. I learned how to adapt, slowly found my way around the campus and learned the best hikes in the area.
Camp was an experience in itself, and I loved being a counselor and working with kids. Some of my co-workers became my best friends, a few of whom I still keep in touch with almost four years later. I fell in love, not only with mountains and Colorado and the natural world, but also with myself. I learned what it was like to both love the Earth and enjoy being a part of it.
At the end of the summer on the way back home, I had a different driving partner – my mom. My parents didn’t want me to be alone for that long of a trip (but secretly I think they wanted an excuse to go to Colorado), so the last day of working at camp, Mom flew to Denver, took a shuttle to Estes and I was able to show
her the place I had called home for the past three months.
After many tearful goodbyes to friends and co-workers, Mom and I headed eastbound, leaving the mountains in the rearview. We also listened to a lot of John Denver, talked about our respective summers and got lost one too many times. I consider that summer one of the best of my entire life. It stirred up my desire to travel and explore, see more corners of the world and meet more of its inhabitants, both human and creatures alike.
Despite countless memories of singing camp songs, camping at Pole Hill and driving along Trail Ridge Road, some of my favorite moments in Colorado were when my friend Lauren and I would go to a local Estes coffee shop, Inkwell and Brew. We would sit outside at picnic tables, me with my latte and Lauren with her tea, and we would journal, read, talk, laugh or just watch people pass by. On rainy days, we would sit in winged chairs in the upstairs attic and play card games until we were bored.
At Inkwell, I could lose track of time so easily, whether we went there after work one day or on Saturday mornings. We had a group of friends that we would spend time with, but those unexpected coffee dates were my favorite.
Lauren and I still keep in touch, and she actually just spent a year in England for graduate school. She also visited me when I was in New Zealand, staying in a hostel down the road from mine and crashing some of my work events – a welcomed distraction.
My time spent on this planet, in all the places I’ve stepped foot in and all the people I’ve learned to call by name, have changed who I am. They are all now a part of me, just as your experiences are a part of you.
Moments at Inkwell are a part of a younger me, while moments at Calhoun Coffee Company are who I currently am. Months spent in Colorado, years spent in Georgia and a childhood in Kentucky have made me who I am. Time spent with Lauren, days spent climbing the Rocky Mountains with my campers and road trips across the country with my parents all contribute to my personhood. No experience, no moment is ever wasted. Everything holds meaning.