You know me, seldom at a loss for words, but there are so many things to tell you, I'll just start with a story from the time that I was out of touch with the world.

There have been very few fatalities reported from the Colorado flooding, but a couple days ago one of them said "A 60-year old woman has been reported washed away in the Big Thompson River," and I knew my relatives would immediately think that was me. Shit a brick came to mind. But a later report mentioned her daughter, so then I could feel their big sigh of relief because we don't have any children and they would know it wasn't me. My first thought was that quote from Mark Twain: "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

This is the back patio of the Brown Palace rental cabin. The water didn't get high enough to go under the door, but it did come in through the heat ducts; maybe only an inch or two. I'm ashamed to say this, but when the flooding first started, I had time to move some of this stuff somewhere else, but it didn't occur to me because I simply couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that this was really happening. Heck, I had time to do a lot of things that would make a big difference today, but I just couldn't think it through.

The worst time was Thursday night through Friday, and the waters receded on Saturday so I was able to go back over there and stow all this stuff inside and on higher ground.



This is the view of my driveway off the end of my bridge over the river - a five foot drop. The firemen used an extension ladder to rescue me. Most everyone else on the wrong side of the river from the highway had to be zip-lined across.



This is riding to Estes Park in the fire pickup. Eloise is behind me in the back seat in a cat kennel.



I didn't see any tanks going down the river, but they might have passed through at night. Something, either propane tanks, or large trees took a couple of bites out the bridge. Some of the impacts were so hard it jarred the house. Unfortunately, I see some cracking there, and hope it is merely cosmetic. I think the bridge is solid (it's just washed out at the ends), but I hope they don't decide it has to be replaced because of those cracks.



Here is the bridge on Saturday morning when the water in the yard finally went down enough to get a clear view of it. It was my first view of that blue thing that turned out to be a raft. Before this, I could glimpse it through the bushes on the riverbank, but didn't know what it was.



This is our side stream, Rabbit Creek, which was dry for the past two years, and the usual level when there is water is six inches or less; it's running more water than the main river normally runs at this time of year. The water is running over the top of a concrete abutment that anchors a large culvert.



Those big rocks sticking out are where you would drive to approach our house. This is the water that did the most damage to the Brown Palace next door: new stream channels were carved out, creating a gap in the foundation and flowing through the crawl space, and under the front porch. I kept expecting the front porch supports to be eroded and see it washing away, but it held firm.




I'm going to post some more as Kitchentales and Vacationtales so my latest posts will all show up on the New Posts page.