“The mountains are calling, and I must go.” -John Muir
At 9000 feet, just 90 minutes west of the rat race in Denver, lies a sleepy little town (in the summer). It is tucked between the back entrance to Rocky Mountain National park, and the interstate. But turning off and leaving the traffic mess behind, I started my ascent up into the hills. It was then that I had a realization: “my God, I love this place.”
Gone is the big city light pollution. The smog is behind. The noise fades away. I crested Berthoud Pass at around 11300 feet in dense fog, watching trails disappear into the mist. Where did they go? And what must it be like to smell the air? I rolled the windows down and was immediately reminded what 45 degree air feels like (hint: a lot colder than Kansas City in August). It all was very enlivening – and the wedding wasn’t until the next day.
All that to say: the setting was beautiful, obviously. We love Colorado – the state where we ourselves were married 15 years ago, and birthed our first child. The geography is near and dear to our hearts.
Enter Rae and Ryan. Fellow residents of Kansas City, who set out to marry each other in a special spot. So it was in Winter Park that they, along with 40 of their closest friends and family members, gathered to celebrate the beginning of their marriage. These are two of the most dear people we know, raised by great parents, from strong families. And their wedding?
It was beautiful.
Here’s what I mean: