Just south of Crested Butte, an 8-foot tall medieval knight is battling a dragon. The
knight’s suit of armor is straight out of a museum. Broadsword, helmet, shield,
breastplate, gauntlets. It’s everything that any self-respecting knight would own,
and the same exact outfit that any boy would cherish. The whole knight is welded
together from bits of chromed steel. The dragon’s silver scales reflect the sunlight
in blinding menace while his claws sink into green grass and his fangs threaten the
pain.
The Elk Mountains, the withering range between Aspen and Crested Butte, are as
dramatic as they are beautiful. Crested Butte sits in a bit of a cirque beneath The
Elks, and the highest peaks frame the skyline. These American Alps provide backup
just in case the knight gets past the beast. He’s in for a long day, no matter what.
Staring at this sculpture, I tried to figure out which explanation I preferred. On
one hand, I think about the early settlers who must have seen this alpine valley
during summer and been convinced that they’d stumbled into the most beautiful
stretch of river valley that Colorado has to offer. They then must have felt like the
surrounding terrain was as dangerous as any flying dinosaur with fangs, claws, and
an impenetrable hide.
Then again, the fight is happening just outside of a school. To be a preschooler who
can look out the window and see his picture books come to life would be incredible.
Even a wild childhood imagination would have a hard time duplicating the spectacle
in the front yard.
As a kid, I imagined adventure around every corner. If it wasn’t in the form of a
dragon, I was dreaming up guerilla missions in the woods behind my neighbors’
homes, make-believe fights with roving Indians, and athletic glory appropriately
scaled down to my skinny white body: dunking on a 7-foot basket ball hoop.
Whatever the activity, I was free from the cares that start to permeate adulthood.
My reality was bound only by my creativity and desire to believe it.
The Skyland Boulders sit on the shoulder of Mt. Crested Butte, and overlook the
knight, dragon, and whole town of CB. If you want a beautiful place to hang out
for the day and grab some granite, it’s hard to beat Skyland. There aren’t a ton of
boulders, but they are interspersed in a huge grove of aspen trees on a flat bench of
hillside that provides nice landings for these few looming boulders.
The walk through the trees passes by several wildly intimidating rock faces.
Julia and I pulled onto some of the problems in between a picnic lunch and a
daydreaming session spent staring at the cirrus sky. When we walked into a
clearing, I realized that the preschool wasn’t the only place where kids were using
their imaginations to invent a vivid game. Many of the smaller stones had been
turned into makeshift forts. Some of the dead, fallen aspens had been dragged into
formation, and several teepees dotted the perimeter of the clearing. No one else
was there, but I could almost hear the squealing cries of happy kids playing make-
believe.
Further on, I found an impressive boulder that captured my imagination, and I
saddled up for a hot session on sun soaked stone. Cooler air would have made
the grips more tenable, but instead, I just had to ignore the facts and shoot
from my inexhaustible Winchester rifle against some angry Sioux. Once I realized
that fun was the name of the game, just as it’s always been, I settled into a game of
convincing myself that my next mission involved a boulder problem. I was there to
enjoy my day and revel in the beauty of being alive, content to play a game where
I made the rules. I could play like a kid, and let my imagination run wild. Where’s
your dragon?
