Jul19 2026
It was my privilege to live in Colorado Springs for almost twenty years. This is my stab at being appreciative for the best city I ever lived in.*
My arrival came in January 2008, the last of my possessions in a U-Haul. It was dark, windy and snowing. By morning, blue skies and sun. I loved it.
My new neighborhood was barely born. One paved street, four unoccupied houses, a scraggly field where future homes would be, spectacular views toward Rampart Range. Neighbors were rabbits, raccoons, foxes, a lynx and a black bear or two from the huge park across the street. A woodpecker family lived in my eave. A few mice played in my basement. Deer roamed freely, grazing among the shrubs.
Within ten years, new houses and next door companions were plentiful, our community now enclosed with a perimeter fence and protective gate. Only the most athletic deer could make it up and over. Occasionally a bear would slip through to shop for victuals on trash day. By 2026, my once perfect view had a foreground of rooftops, as you see after a big April snow. 18 years.
Colorado. Now for jumping into all the manly pursuits that had been denied me for the past thirty-two years of being a “suit” in Houston. Within a month of arriving, lucky to find “The Breakfast Club,” a senior group with many sub-cultures, including all five of my favorite pursuits. Biking, hiking, camping, skiing and motorcycling. I climbed a mountain or two.
Shortly, my life was improved by hundreds of friendly outdoorsy folks with time to burn. Our camping group spent time at most every state park in Colorado, Utah, and once at Palo Duro Canyon in Texas. Skiing was a weekly priority from October to March, mostly at Breckenridge, two hours from my house to sitting on a chairlift. Can’t beat Colorado for ski resorts. Snowmass and Beaver Creek were favorites.
I was prepared for motorcycling. In Houston, got my driver’s license upgraded. Once here, I couldn’t stop buying newer and faster models. Six motorcycles from 2008 till 2019. Whew was I hooked. Rode all over the US, towed when it was too many boring miles to the fun places on both coasts; California in 2010 and 2014, and to D.C. in 2011 for Rolling Thunder; 300,000 bikers in our nation’s capital. My little band hit the Blue Ridge Parkway on the way back. Quite a trip. Sturgis was a yearly event, exploring South Dakota’s many landmarks.
My longest auto trip from the Springs was to Jacksonville, Florida, with three stops on the way east to see friends for a day or two. And four more pop-ins on the way back, including a Houston visit to my old office. Thirteen friends visited during three weeks in May 2019. Fifteen states traversed, 4,800 miles in my trusty BMW.
In 2017 my life changed, with an gym upgrade from 24 Hour Fitness to a legitimate club. Where making friends became a priority. The Country Club of Colorado, a part of the Cheyenne Mountain resort.
Say hello to Joann, Jenn and Jessica. You won’t find any better people. Brains, looks, fitness fanatics, caring mothers, contributors, providers. The luckiest man on earth was honored to have them buy me lunch the week before I blew town. The idea for my latest book, “What, Me Happy,” a treatise about contentment and friendship, came directly from knowing these women and living in the best state in the US.
Well. Now you know why my sadness quotient has risen since moving on to a 55+ community. Twas I who made the decision. Colorado no more, Texas is my new life. I’m toughing out the heat, and moving forward in my fully air conditioned apartment.
*Cities that I called home for varying time periods in my short life: Little Rock, AR, Tulsa OK, Midland TX, Beeville TX, Corpus Christi TX, Pensacola FL, Jacksonville FL, Miami, San Diego, Long Beach, Houston. Both coasts and a few in the middle.