Three consecutive summers we went to Colorado Springs to spend five or six weeks with our son Bill and his wife Elaine. In '78 and '79 we used our motorhome, in 1980 we flew. Bill's school had a mountain campus near Nathrop.

      The first year out there Bill, Elaine, and the children, Ed and Kim, hiked over Mt. Antero. a 14,000 foot mountain. We picked them up near St. Elmo, which at one time was a narrow gauge railroad station and gold mining camp. The railroad went west through Hitchcock and through the Alpine tunnel.

      While they were hiking, Eva and I drove over Independent Pass to Aspen and evaluated the ski slopes and shops. Snow remained on some of the mountain tops and at the pass wild flowers thrived in the cool air.

      In 1979 with Ed, Kim, and Clint, we rode thirty miles into the Rockies to Crippled Creek, a famous gold camp. We followed an old miner's trail past Pike's Peak and came back down Ute Pass to Colorado Springs. We visited the Garden of the Gods another day.

      A few days later, in late June, I had a heart attack at a Colorado Springs hospital. It was a good place to be if you had heart problems. Ten days later I was discharged and after another week's rest, Bill drove us to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Ted flew to Cedar Rapids and drove us and the motorhome to Rossford. It was well Bill and Ted were along as we did have some car problems.

      Sue lives in San Antonio, Texas and in recent years we have visited her from the middle of January until the middle of March, thus avoiding much of the snow of the north.

      The River Walk in San Antonio triggers new ideas each time I walk down the steps and stroll the footway. Is it the water, leisureliness, or lack of cars or bikes? In a sense, it is a sort of fairy tale land and people simply appreciate it. The Hall of Horns Building in south San Antonio interests me. And one cannot forget the Alamo, a definite "must see".

      The Rio Grande River should be huge -- one would think. Well, it isn't -- at least at Laredo and Brownsville. And Padre Island near Corpus Christi is one big sand pile -- maybe 120 miles long. It is a national park and people camp, stroll, or drive the wide beach. The Space Center Control Room near Houston makes me think again of Walter Cronkite as he removed his glasses in awe at the ability of man to alight on the moon.

      Eva, Beccy, her children, Ryan and Melissa, and I flew to Sacramento, California in June 1981. We traveled by rented car to Stockton and visited Mrs. Barbara Anthony and her sister Vera Mack. Mrs. Anthony was my teacher at County Normal fifty years earlier. She is spry and a careful driver. She and Vera enjoy an occasional "Golden Age" bus trip to Reno to see the shows.

      As we left, Mrs. Anthony suggested a delightful road to Yosemite. El Capitan, the falls, the firs, a coon, some deer, and the natural beauty of the park with its solitude in spite of the crowds haunts me still.

      In the park, one woman had on an intersting T-shirt that read "I may not be perfect, but parts of me are excellent!" And she indeed looked that way.

      Early in the morning we drove to Monterey to lunch at Fisherman's Wharf. We followed the 17 mile drive across the Monterey Peninsula to gaze at the Seal Rocks, the golf courses Bing Crosby immortalized and the cypress trees and hurried on to San Francisco. Beccy, Ryan, and Melissa stayed in a hotel near the Bart station and the Powell Street cable car turn around. Beccy says she "lost her heart in San Francisco" and she hated to leave Fisherman's Wharf with its many shops and eateries.

      Eva and I drove to Oakland to stay with Meg and Jim. They drove us to Muir Woods just north of San Francisco to see the beautiful trees and to reminisce on our memories. Another day all of us, including Beccy and the children, sailed around the bay area and near the bridges.

      Our time was soon gone. We drove to Sacramento to fly home. It was nice to see our old friends and give Beccy, Ryan, and Melissa a memorable vacation.