A trip to Colorado - Part Deux

The Historic Stanley Hotel. I think that is what they officially call it. And the street sign as you approach announces you are entering the "Stanley Hotel Historic District". Estes Park, just on the eastern boundary of Rocky Mountain National Park, is a beautiful location with stunning views of Long's Peak from the veranda of the hotel that overlooks the small and very appealing town. This is rather like Leavcnworth, Wa without the Bavarian theme. And with better shopping.

The hotel is a result of FO Stanley, inventor of, among other things, the Stanley Steamer. His fortune from his creative pursuits allowed him to build this spectacular structure in what was, at the time, a near wilderness and equip every room with not only electricity (unheard of at the time) but also a private bath in each room. At the 100th anniversary of the hotel - this past July - it still remains an elegant and appealing destination. All the more so given the rather unbelievable activities within.

I attempt to remain somewhat skeptical of paranormal activities, although I can't really say why, given the number of things I've experienced in my life. In any event, I usually make great fun of Suzanne and Royce as they sit around the house watching Ghost Hunters on tv. In spite of that, it was mostly me, not Suzanne, that encountered the unexplainable at The Stanley.

She does have a camera full of pictures with hard to comprehend grey and white and black shadows over the scenes. I watched as she took a series of photos of the same subject and one would be a perfect representation of what I was looking at and the next would be half covered with a misty looking veil that was then gone for the next shot. Over and over she did this. Something is going on in this place.

Our first night in the stuffy fourth floor accomodations I got up to try and get some air through the tiny window of the gabled room and sat next to the screened opening, sitting in a small, overstuffed chair. Moments after sitting, while Suzanne snoonzed peacefully just a few feet away, I received four sharp smacks on my backside. While I was sitting in the chair. Behind me was the wall, next to me was my suitcase, shoved next to the chair because of the lack of space. Yet something was clearly smacking me. For several minutes afterward I had recurring sensations of my entire body tingling from head to toe - rather like the sensation of the hair on the back of your neck standing up, but all over my body. It would wash over me and I'd look around the room half expecting to see someone. Something is going on in this place.

The following day we spent hiking around town and in the mountains and before dinner I got into the shower to freshen up. Due to my techincal incompetence, I was unable to get the water hot so it ran and ran and ran while I waited in vain for it to warm up. (Turns out I needed to not turn the handle all the way to the left but about three quarters of the way to get hot, but I digress). I finally gave up and amidst much complaining I got in and begain railing about my "tepid shower" and how I should complain to the management. While in the midst of this low level tirade, while facing into the cool stream, my neck and shoulders were suddenly hot, as if a heating pad were laid across my shoulders. The cold water continued to run over the very part of me that was the hottest. I was shocked. It only lasted a few moments and then, cold water again. Something is going on in this place.

Dinner was in the small private dining room where we had watched Senator John McCain eating the night before. (And no, he did not ask my opinion on either the war in Afghanistan or my opinon on health care.) The room was a bit cooler the second night but we still had the fan running when I was wakened at about 2am by a pounding on the wall just opposite my head. Four or five good whacks and then footsteps running down the hall. I was up in an instant and put my eye to the peephole in the door. Its fisheye lens let me see the end of the hall in both directions. A long hallway both ways, but nobody there. Back to bed and about fifteen minutes later the same thing although this time the pounding sounded like it was on the opposite side of the hallway. Up in a flash and looking at the door as I still heard the running footsteps - nothing. Something is going on in this place.

The night we got home Suzanne put in a dvd she had purchased at the gift shop in the hotel and in it was a series of interviews of hotel workers. One of the things they reported were frequent phone calls from guests on the fourth floor complaining about the children banging on the wall and then running away.

You can draw your own conclusions. Maybe the place is rigged ala-Disneyland for these effects. Or maybe there really is something going on in this place. I can only report that what I felt and heard was real for me. I would suggest you book a trip and find out for yourself. Just be prepared for anything !!!

A trip to Colorado - Part 1

On Thursday the 20th Suzanne and I flew into Denver and rented a Hertz-mobile for the drive to Winter Park. I've been through this town before but so many years ago I can't really remember anything other than that I've been there. Prior trips to the state have been mostly in the winter for skiing so it was fun to be there in the summer for a change. At my neice's insistence we booked into a bed and breakfast along with a collection of other relatives of hers and her now-husband Craig. This gave us a chance to meet the rest of the family as well as catch up with my other neice Wenny and nephew Ryan as well as my sister Pat. Good times.

The wedding that was the reason for the trip was between my niece Rachel and her new husband Craig. The event was at a really cool place called Devil's Thumb Ranch which was highly reminiscent of the spot Suzanne and I had our wedding at. A nice ceremony (if I do say so myself) and great food at the following reception. It was very nice to reconnect with everyone and meet the new folks that are now in my family list.

We also managed to visit the Winter Park ski hill while there - another Intrawest property (like Whistler) so it's very nicely done. The hill was smothered with mountain bikers the day we visited. Based on the fact that they were all dressed like darker versions of the Star Wars storm troopers (i.e. shrouded in plastic protective gear) I've determined that I have little interest in pursuing this sport. It's clear that some portion of your time is spent in crashing into the rocks and gravel, else why all the plastic shin and knee and arm protection?? Think I'll stick to walking.

We also tried the summer "tobaggan" run on the mountain which was fun. It consists of what seemed to be some sort of plastic track which contained the wheeled sled you ride to the bottom. Pulling back on the center mounted "stick" caused the wheels to retract and skids to come in contact with the track, thereby slowing you down. Forward on the stick results in wheels descending and speed increasing very quickly - much the same as the effect experience by pushing your stick forward in the airplane! Good times.