Your Turn

Where else?

By Fred A. Cox

On an early autumn afternoon we drove west on Route 24 out of Colorado Springs, carrying our mountain bikes. After crossing South Park we climbed over Trout Creek Pass into Chaffee County and parked near the immense meadow on the western side. Riding our bikes up a long, gradual incline across the open grassland we entered the ponderosa pine forest. Along the side of the old dirt road, a pronghorn exploded from the tall grass and bounded off into the trees.

My wife Margaret and I moved to Colorado from Pennsylvania about six years ago, mainly for the skiing. They say, “Come for the winter, stay for the summer.” This has turned out to be true in more ways than we could have imagined.

After a short rest in the warm, fragrant forest we turned around and enjoyed the fast ride back down the hill we had just climbed. I was in the lead standing on the pedals; the intense vibration was making it difficult to see clearly. Ahead on the left I saw a dark shape, then behind it, another dark shape which rose and fell in the air. Stopping, I speculated that it was a flock of vultures feeding on carrion, their heads dipping up and down as they fed.

Remounting and riding more slowly, I saw the dark shape become a large bird sitting on the ground with its wings partially spread—a golden eagle. It was watching the second shape rising and falling. As we approached, we saw large clods of earth being flung six or eight feet into the air. A person couldn’t have done better with a shovel. Disturbed by our presence, the eagle flew off a short distance, gliding a few feet above the top of the grass.

We stopped as the digger revealed itself. As it emerged from the hole it was excavating, we saw the masked face of a badger. It went back to its work. Perhaps the eagle was waiting for the badger to dig out a rodent and then steal the prize for itself.

Where else but Colorado could we have driven so short a distance from a comfortable city, to ride in such surpassing beauty and see something like that?

We later found that the location was called Badger Meadow. Go figure.

Your Turn

Do you have a special memory or humorous story about living in Colorado? EnCompass is looking for original essays that capture the uniqueness of our state. Payment is $60 upon publication. Entries must be 350-450 words. Please include a daytime phone number. Email: editor@colorado.aaa.com. .