Last night, I was looking online for some interesting places to explore that wasn’t a true day trip, but maybe something close enough for a lunch time adventure. And I had a recently clean car, so the windshield was a bit cleaner from last weeks excursions. I discovered many small town history museums, all of which I added to my list (There is now a list!). But my goal was something somewhat of an adventure but not really walk around too much. I could find myself getting distracted and lost in the things of days gone by and accidentally taking a long lunch. I found that in Fort Lupton, Colorado is the South Platte Valley Historical Society. I thought that it was perfect.

Now here is the thing, I didn’t truly read their website. I skimmed it. If I had actually read the site I would have seen that:
1) It is actually closed until May but has walk-in days where it is open to the public the first weekend of every month. (Last weekend)
2) Tomorrow there was a free event to teach American Plains Indian Sign Language.
Note to self: pay more attention!

After a quick stop for gas and a Diet Coke, I was on my way to adventure #3!

I headed out without the doggo co-pilot today, just in case there was some place too cool or too cute and I needed to go inside and rescue some poor item from its shelf. It was a nice day, cool, but sunny enough. I punched in Fort Lupton into the robot in the dashboard and I was off to the races…uhm, fort.

When I moved to this area a little over a year ago, I read an article on how a man said he was constantly ogling the scenery in Colorado. That he was always agog at the mountains and their majestic beauty. Someone told him that he wouldn’t even notice them after a while. He said he hoped that day never came. I smiled when read it, because I feel the same way. Ordinary things always show their beauty, why shouldn’t truly incredible sites show up and show out too? I pray that I never ever stop seeing their beauty.

I grew up in small towns in Missouri, mostly western and southern regions Then as a young adult, in St. Louis. But small towns are special. The people there are not fancy, oh you have those who have money (somehow) and think they are better because of it, you have the hardworking farmers, the folks who own the market or the shops in town, florist, bar, restaurant, bank, etc. You have a post office, one or two banks, and several churches. The smaller the town, the more churches there are. I lived in a town of 1000 people with 7 churches and a town of 350 people with 8! Driving up to Fort Lupton, I thought of those small towns and smiled. They were good places to be a kid and find adventures. Maybe that is where the wanderlust comes from.

Heading into Fort Lupton, I saw familiar, universal signs of a small town. Children walking quickly to get a quick snack at the gas station before adults noticed they weren’t at school. Young mothers carrying a toddler and shopping bags while walking home. Big trucks. Small businesses. Modest houses for good families that were clean and kept up yards. Then there were the things that make each small town distinct. The local flare, if you will. To me, its like a magical spell that weaves itself over my eyes and I see the trueness of the town. Not the buildings that look like they will fall over any minute, but the lives that happened in that building. The laughter, the tears, the work, the family of it all. I know, its a silly romanticized thing, but, it is how it has always felt to me.

It took some doing, in this small town to locate the South Platte Valley Historical Society. I thought I saw a sign, but then it looked like I would be driving up on someone’s private property. If there is one thing that I will never forget growing up in small towns and “country”, you don’t just drive up on the property. If you have business there, you have to announce yourself. Now, I was not sure if in the “Front Range” area of Colorado was the same, but I was not going to chance it. So I drove around and looked at the farms surrounding the area. I would find the place I aimed for, but no harm in a side quest.

This area has a little historical museum and some buildings you can tour (I believe) when it is open. Today, I just drove past them all and took way too many pictures. One building is a replica of the fur trading post, other are historical buildings that may have been moved here, or maybe they just happened to all be close to each other. I will have to go back for an official tour, but here is what I found.

This little adventure was just what I needed to break up the day and get back at the grind when I returned. (Working from home is THE BEST!)

Heading home, I thought of the next adventure.
Where would I find myself?
What do I want to do?
Who will I take along?

But, then again, the best adventures I have ever had were not planned out in the least. Like being at NASA in Houston, when my kids were little, hearing the space shuttle was flying overhead and then following some reporters and finding myself on an Air Force base and meeting some astronauts. My son was thrilled!. Another time, I not listening to robot GPS because something caught my eye on the horizon in Maine and finding the Nubble Lighthouse and my girlfriends in the car who had been saying “Susan, didn’t the robot say to turn here?” were suddenly in awe of the lovely red lighthouse and the soft flurries swirling around us. Good detours and side quests make the best adventures.

I’ll be making plenty of time for these adventures through my dirty windshield. Both all day adventures and lunch break adventures. Sometimes that is when you can do your best thinking.

The goal is 60 new things and I have 57 more to go!