Although it was getting late as we pulled into town, we stopped off at Garden of the Gods to look at the local rock formations and crawl around the boulders, shadowed by the incessant warble of the Questioning Four Year Old, "Why do they call it Garden of the Gods? Why? Why 'the gods'? Why the Garden of the Gods? Why do they call it that?" We explained garden. We explained gods. We explained garden of the gods. We explained it in terms of her rock collection. We explained it in terms of Hercules the Disney movie. It was more tiring than the bouldering.
A basic idea of what to see at Garden of the Gods. Rocks and trees. But very picturesque.
Kissing camels, or a fire-breathing camel, or a camel that's had too much to drink. It all depends on your state of mind.
Eryn and I lending a hand to stabilize the park. All the land at Garden of the Gods was once owned by a guy who would let you see the balancing rocks and would take your picture in front of the best one. When everyone began to have cheap cameras he built a fence around it. His children later made up for it by donating the land to the city and entry is now free. Apparently people cheered when the fence surrounding balancing rock was torn down.
Much better in close up. If I don't use the picture I'll post in the next few days of me in a hot tube with a beer and rubber ducks, I'll use a close up of this one to replace my blog picture. I didn't really have any sort of plan in mind when I did this, other than posing, but it sort of looks like I'm trying to ride a sandworm, ala Dune.
Cute picture of Eryn, who was happy to be out of the car and would have stayed for a full day if she could have. On a rock. Off a rock. On a rock. Off a rock. "Why's it the Garden of the Gods?" On a rock. Off a rock.
An even cuter picture of Eryn in a rock crack. We checked carefully for rattlers first.
Here's the complete photo set with rock climbers, a picture or two of grandma, etc.
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