We met yesterday morning for breakfast, and after fighting traffic, made it up to Estes Park. They didn't have the cabin ready, then they did, dropped off out gear and went for a walk. It was less than a mile from the cabin. We sat up a huge collection of rocks that jutted up above the trees, sticking out like an obstinate child refusing to sing at a choir performance. Other than the sounds of a far away stereo, one wood pecker, we enjoyed the silence and took in what we saw and smelled in this massive valley that was Estes Park below us. After our backsides ached from sitting on rocks, we walked back down to the cabin. We shared what we wrote, enjoyed each other's company, and some of Jenn's amazing chicken & cheese dip, we hit the town of Estes.
I went to the coffee shop we frequented two years ago, thought about Nicole Marc and how I haven't seen her in forever, and wrote, looking at the hillside of the town. I walked down by the river, sat at a bench and let the sun warm body against the cool wind that blew in. I wrote about relationships, watched red ants scurry below my feet at cookie crumbs dropped by children, and smiled at how a change in location could bring things out of me I had forgotten were there.
We met up at The Wheel, enjoyed some drinks and then went back home.
We cooked pizzas, snacked, and talked about our lives. It was the first time I had seen Ruth in at least two years. For Kim Penn and Beth, it was a chance for half of their writing group to get together. We shared prompts, food, wine, writing, and stories.
The morning was brief, with a 10am checkout time, but enough time to do some writing, eat cold pizza and cookies, and head into Estes for coffee, morning paper, but for me, write some more. I don't remember the last time I wrote, by hand, for over an hour.
When I got back to Fort Collins, after a brief meeting for SI, I went out for lunch and had to finish what I started up at Estes. When I'm done, I'll spend more time time today for doing the same thing. It reminds me of when I went through the SI in 2003, and I'd leave my writing group and CSU and would go home, turn off my phone and do nothing but write for two or three hours.
I hope you can make it next year.