Cyber Trucks, Mountain Tops and Whisky Shots

The last thing I expected upon arrival at our pristine boondocking site nestled in the Rocky Mountains in Estes Park, beside a small windmill from the 1930s, was an invitation to take a ride in a Cybertruck. Within minutes of checking in, the silver stealth machine rolled in. The owner -- spry, seventy-plus-year-old Ernie, our host for the night--asked us if we wanted to take a drive. 

Ernie's Cybertruck 

I have to admit, I have judged those trucks (and their owners) without ever bothering to really learn about them. So I was humbled to take a self-driven trip to the local Safeway, with Ivan at the wheel (though not touching it), while Ernie explained the truck safety features, upcoming advancements and Elon's plans for cyber truck sharing (think Uber, but with self driving cars). 

 Surprising facts: there is no dashboard, only a computer screen. The exterior isn't even painted, to save upkeep. The car has three driving styles, "chill", "normal" and "hurry". (Even though Ernie had nowhere particular to go, he said he preferred hurry mode, which had the truck taking the mountain corners pretty tightly.)

Inside the Cybertruck

We also chatted with his car's AI, who explained Canada's reversal on taxing the tech giants, and gave advice on how best to manage employees who keep putting their hands in their pockets and get attitude when disciplined. 

While the car was impressive, Ernie was an inspiration. Like many people, I've been getting down these past few months with all the doom-scrolling. I've been reading so much negative news and hearing so much fearmongering about AI and the state of the world that I was frankly sick of all of it. Yet here was Ernie, over seventy, excited by all the disruption. He's running his Outdoor Gear businesses, RV'ing through Labrador with his girlfriend, driving his cybertruck through town while also restoring his old Ford truck from the 40s, straddling the old and the new without fear -- only excitement for what might come next. 

The old Ford truck Ernie restored and which still runs

From cybertrucks, we moved on to mountain tops, hitting Rocky Mountain National park early the next morning. Owing to the shutdown, there were no park fees, though all the trails and shuttles were working. For our first major hike, we decided to hike from Glacial trailhead to frozen lake, a steeply climbing trail that passed a few lakes upwards to a gigantic glacial basin.

Ivan crossing a bridge on Glacial Trail

Climbing higher

One of many stunning falls

I was using Alltrails, and saw that the trail was described as "hard". I had recently trained for a 10k, so thought I would be fine. I was wrong. While the hike itself wasn't that challenging technically, the altitude really kicked my ass. Lesson learned the hard way. At the top, scrambling to the peak, I had to bend over to stop the dizziness and each step required intense focus. Though we managed to get all the way up to frozen lake, the sleet had started and getting down took intense focus. 

Near the summit - and nearly out of oxygen

But it was all worth it, every second. If I had one word to describe the Rocky Mountains, it would be iconic. If Disneyland designed a "park", it would be this one. The beauty takes your breath away. And the smell! It makes you wish you could live forever.

Mill Lake

Feeling zapped from the altitude, we drove out of town about an hour away to stay at Harvest Host Spirit Hound Distillers. They produced craft spirits, with award winning whisky and gin made with Rocky Mountain botanicals. We both had a flight of whisky and listened to live music performed by Yarrow Band (instagram @yarrowband). Locals came in with their own bottles to fill up for cheap. Two men in cowboy hats spun cocktails while the singers sang nineties covers. A man at the bar brought in his wolf-coyote mix, who rolled over for belly rubs from everyone coming in and out. A great night.

Spirit Hound Bar

Whisky Flights

More Rocky Mountain the next day, though an easier path from Bierstadt Lake to Bear Lake. The lake was full of beautiful birds who swooped close by your head, and Ivan started a grouse in the bush. 

Fall colours

Steller's Jay

Bierstadt lake

One image I won't be able to forget but wasn't able to capture was a bull elk who walked right out into the middle of the major intersection of town, and began bugling, stopping traffic. 

Bull elk walking alongside the road

I'm writing this post at a camp in Utah at a picnic table beside a cowboy fire under a pitch black sky with no stars. Thinking of you all this Thanksgiving, and especially Cohen, stuck in Hamilton eating leftover Chinese food while waiting for the Subaru to get fixed. Wish we could whisk you here.

We miss you all. Hope you are enjoying friends and family today!