Advice Letter to Mountains from a San Diego Girl

An Open Letter to the Colorado Mountains

Dear Colorado Mountain,

I’ve spent the past several days in your presence and my seaside lifestyle sometimes causes me to forget how wonderful and complicated you are. Your air is crisp. Your jutting snowcapped peaks and wild terrain is breathtakingly beautiful – literally. While I enjoy the lack of pollution that causes me to be able to see the stars above your gorgeous tips at night, your clean, fresh air makes me a tad bit loopy.

Let me give you a bit of friendly advice, Mountain.

I like to be able to walk up three flights of stairs without feeling like I’m going to pass out. Any chance you could breathe some more oxygen into your air so it doesn’t make me feel even more out of shape than I am? I’d also like to be able to have more than one glass of your minion’s wonderful, strong brews without seeing double vision. Also, a little more moisture in the air would be helpful so I don’t feel like my nose is going to explode – and no, I did not just develop allergies as you may want to suggest since you have such a variety of vegetation weaving around your sides.

As an animal-lover, I also appreciate the wildlife you offer. At any moment I could see a bear, or an elk, or a buffalo, oh my! Unlike lions, or tigers, or bears, hopefully these won’t eat me…oh, wait…bears. Can you please ensure a bear doesn’t eat me while I’m visiting you? It would make the visit much more enjoyable if I didn’t have visions of Legends of the Fall running through my head. Now, before you get all defensive, I understand – I’m on their terrain that you provide to them. I get that. All I’m asking is not to be eaten.

So, dear Mountain, I am now returning to the sea where after my few days in your stilted oxygen flow, I can no doubt now sprint along the sand with nary an out of breath gasp, then head home to down a few glasses of wine without worrying it will make me start dancing on bar tables if I’m not careful, and not have to worry about getting eaten by animals. And I’m going to stop you before you bring up sharks; I only have to worry about those when I’m actually in the water – not when I’m standing outside simply waiting for a shuttle to pick me up.

And that, Mountain, is my friendly coastal girl advice to you.

Just a few thoughts to make it easier for beach-goers like me to live in your surroundings. I feel like maybe you’re keeping out everyone who’s not a rock-climbing, mountain-biking, whitewater rafting devotee. (Sigh, I wish I were like that…) Mountain, stop making me wish I were things I’m not! I already get how cool you are, you don’t need to have prerequisites for people to join your clique.

I hope you take this to heart.

Love,

Gina

P.S. I heard you think I’m going to miss you and will be back to visit soon. I think you may be right.