That’s right, for you folks under twenty-five, life before a remote required somebody beat a path in the shag carpeting from the sofa to the television on a regular basis. That was yours truly. Besiders, it was a great way to garner attention; after all, I was the middle child stuck between two sisters distinctive by virtue of birth order rather than hard work or good looks. But I digress.
There were only three stations back then, a long, long time ago in a far off galaxy with only three black and white planets receiving signals from outer space: ABC, CBS and NBC.
Without Comedy Central, there was no South Park, nobody to lampoon presidential candidates, world leaders, and abortion. Without Fox there was no Simpsons either. All I had back then was a goofy anthropomorphic Moose and his squirrely flying friend, Rocky.
Where was I? Oh, that’s right. Bullwinkle – travel – connection?
Jim and I were visiting a beautiful place called Estes Park, home to one of the largest land mammals in North America. It's a little piece of heaven at the foothills of Rocky Mountain National Park (preview of coming attractions) in Colorado, about 60 miles northeast of Denver.
stopping here and there to gawk in similar fashion.
protected, their numbers grew to the point Park Rangers today have embarked on a project to “manage” the herds via birth control (don't ask) and sharpshooters. Nooooo, not Bambi! I know I’m mixing my species, but you and I both know the results are the same.
Maybe the elk (they will answer to wapiti also but that version just isn’t as short and sweet as the word elk) were looking to stay at the Stanley Hotel for the winter. They’d certainly crashed the party within yards of the front door.
Jim and I certainly had our work cut out for us too securing the usual touristy picture (with Bullwinkle in the background) to commemorate the moment.