Mountains Beat the Sea

I have not seen anything that looks like this.

This is the first glimpse I got of the Rockies on this trip. The view hasn't improved much since then.

Periodically throughout the past 36 hours, ever since I arrived in Denver, my eyes are drawn to the West, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains.

This time of year, many of my friends are posting pictures of their feet and a view of the ocean. Toes in the sand, blue skies, surf ... that sort of thing.

And, while I love a good Shore day, I've always been able to do without sand. I love the Boardwalk, the fries, the ocean breeze, the fresh air. But, my idea of the perfect Shore day doesn't involve any time actually in the ocean, and doesn't necessarily have to include actually touching the sand. It's not because I grew up sans beach. On the contrary, I was raised mere minutes from miles of pretty decent beach at Lake Erie.

Nope, for me, it's the mountains. I love a view across valleys. I love the crisp air at altitude. I love the clear, dry skies and the scent of pine. I love windy mountain roads, sledding, hiking.

Spending Christmas in the Poconos is far closer to my idea of bliss than spending 4th of July at the Shore (though I really, really miss our weeks of cramming a jillion Dugans into a shore house for the week of the 4th).

Sand is annoying. Mountains make me feel at home.