Paonia, Co

I am writing this post from inside my sleeping bag. It’s 50 degrees and the wind gusts are three miles per hour. I am dressed warmly, and I have tried to tuck myself tightly into the bag to avoid any air seepage. It’s not working because I am cold. I could go in the old trading post where we are staying to finish out the night, but that’s on a hardwood floor. At least outside there is comfortable porch furniture. To a point. The roughest part of Road School is sleeping. To get through three more nights of this might require a stop for an air mattress.

Day two of Road School took us over Independence Pass which I vaguely remember traversing as a child with mom clinging to the dash board with her eyes squeezed shut, tears of fear running down her face. That’s probably why I don’t remember the breathtaking views from the summit.

While I snapped photos, the students drew pictures of plants they saw and made observations to compare with vegetation at the altitude we live.

The real destination for the day was Paonia, Colorado, a small community nestled in a valley of towering peaks. Many years ago, I spent a year on the Western slope near Paonia, and vowed I would never return. I was a little afraid that memories would resurface, but when I saw the sign for the town I lived in, not much stirred. Instead, I just remembered how breathtakingly beautiful it is with the roaring rivers, picturesque creeks, the spring run off bringing cascading waterfalls to the roadways, green, green meadows and wild flowers everywhere. This is the Colorado on the postcards.

In Paonia, we stopped at the Learning Council which is a place that uses locally grown produce to make food and feed the community. We entered a large commercial kitchen, washed our hands, donned aprons, and started chopping greens, sautéing onions, and building empanadas.

There were about five or six volunteers when we arrived at the kitchen. I have to believe that fourteen extra pair of hands shortened the work time. I saw the regular volunteers walking around as we wrapped up, kind of amazed that the work was done hours before the deadline. The food that was prepared was served at whatever cost patrons could afford at the evening Farmer’s Market. For such a small town, the market was impressive-live music, a lot of produce, a few artisans with products also locally sourced–Alpaca yarn, honey, soaps and candles scented with lavender and other fragrances grown in the valley. It was a great way for students to see how production, processing, and consumption work together. It was also fun to hear them say things like–“You’re eating the empanada that I made!”

In two days, I have seen so much growth in these kids. They are starting to take off their armor and open up to new experiences. Last night, they all set off on a walk around the trading post land together, excited to see the stars without light pollution. One of them even knew about the strawberry moon. (I had to google it.)

The sun is coming up; I can hear the kids stirring. I have two goals for the day: Be open for the new experiences. Buy an air mattress.