< PREVIOUS ] [ 1990 Index ] [ Ed Quillen HOME ] [ SEARCH ] [ NEXT >
It was a common joke when I was young that, despite what
the textbooks said about there being four seasons for the
North Temperate Zone, Colorado had only three. There wasn't
such a thing as Springtime in the Rockies.
One day
it was snowing, and the next day it was 90, without benefit
of Spring
to ease the transition.
There are others who maintain that, outside of ski resorts, there are but two seasons in the mountains: Winter and Relatives.
Now that the aspen are starting to turn, though, it's obvious that four seasons aren't enough for the mountain calendar.
Starting now, there's Aspen Season, when the highways are clogged with slow-moving drivers on weekends. It would be wonderful if the foot trails were that crowded with yellow-leaf observers, but apparently, in the Aspen Observation Status Game, it counts more to gaze upon a thousand aspen stands, each for one second, than to gaze upon one aspen stand for a thousand seconds.
Next come two overlapping seasons, Hunting Season and Wood-Fetching Season. Since everybody wears bright orange, the woods are just as colorful as they were during Aspen Season, and the countryside is a good deal more exciting, with the whizzing bullets. If you miss Aspen Season, come up during Hunting Season.
Then there's Ski Season. Its onset used to vary with the weather -- Hallowe'en some years, Christmas others, usually Thanksgiving -- but the big-time resorts gave up on Mother Nature, and started making their own snow. That's a marvelous idea. Maybe it can be extended. Artificial snow doesn't fall on highways; just think how much more pleasant transportation would be if we just got rid of the unruly natural stuff.
So far, Colorado has been delightful. But sometime in April, Mud Season arrives. Mud Season is when everyone with brains or money goes to Mexico. Those who remain are in a foul mood because they couldn't go to Mexico. They also don't have anything to do, since every business is closed because the owners are either in Mexico or Chapter 11.
The rest of the world celebrates Spring at this time, with verdant meadows and frolicking lambs. In the mountains, the weather is miserable. It's too warm for winter gear and too cold for anything else. And any time you get off pavement, you're stuck in icy muck.
About the time the weather becomes tolerable, we get Tick Season. The hungry pests lurk in underbrush, waiting until they can leap aboard and find a sanguine dining experience in some place with an enchanting ambiance, like an armpit or a crotch.
It's probably just folklore that the ticks go away after the first hot spell. The people who tell you that are people who own summer resorts in the mountains, and it's not in their interest for you to worry about ticks when you're supposed to be enjoying Tourist Season.
After that is Aspen Season again, which makes for a yearly cycle of seven seasons, more than any place in the world. Our tourist promoters ought to exploit this:
Need seasoning? Come to Colorado.
Hate crowds?
Try Mud Season Colorado.
If the ticks don't get you,
the hunters might: Sail the Seven Seasons of
Colorado.
< PREVIOUS ] [ 1990 Index ] [ Ed Quillen HOME ] [ SEARCH ] [ NEXT >