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Long's Peak Highland Festival, Estes Park Colorado

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Mary:
UH UH........NO WAY, JOSE!

BOONER - you cannot skip out on your obligation of posting about the Estes Park games!  You went places and did things Tom, Harold and Patsy didn't ........
we want your perspective and we want to hear about your friends who came and marched......and your achy feet......and all the other little things you did!

NO.....Barbara (I know) has been waiting for your write up and it's a duty you MUST perform.............YOU are the COLORADO COMMISSIONER!

Barbara:
A warm WELCOME to you Lowell, glad to have you and proud you're representing your Clan Thompson in the heavy athletics.  :D

Barbara 

Barbara:
Mary said
--- Quote ---NO.....Barbara (I know) has been waiting for your write up and it's a duty you MUST perform.
--- End quote ---

Mary is right!  I want to hear all about it from you, and you know I'm waiting for that picture of Jamesie and you!  ;D

I hope all took jackets as I advised, I know how fast the temperature can change in those mountains.  ;D

Barbara

Booner:
My Estes Park Games Report-----rather long

It’s probably bad form to begin a report with an apology, but I am sorry that so much time has passed since the game and my report. I have written a report several times but for various reasons, was not able to post them. In one case, I probably took too long to write it and the server timed out, in another, my DSL service went down just as I was posting it, (my son was down-loading something and we probably over-loaded the wire-less connection).  So I hope this one works; I’m writing it in word and will copy & paste it. I hope it works, because I’m getting real tired of re-writing it.

When I was “challenged” by Tom to have a table at the Estes Park Games, my concern was being the only member who would be marching in the parade.  Patsy, Harold & Tom came to my rescue by deciding to come out to help me.  I’m so glad they did, because, as it turned out, due to the interest shown, one person manning the table for three days would have been over-whelmed.  So on Thursday, September 4th, I packed my car with all the things needed for our tent and headed to Denver International Airport to pick up my helpers.  I had met Patsy, Harold, and Tom a year earlier at the Glasgow, KY games, and they hadn’t changed a bit. We got everything packed into my car and headed up to Estes Park.  It was like old home week, which shows how we all family here.

Estes Park, for those of you who’ve never been there, is about an hour drive north and west of Denver, up along the eastern side of the continental divide.  The town sits at an elevation of 7500 feet or so, situated in a valley, and in early September, the weather can be anywhere from pretty warm to snowing, and sometimes all in the same day. The town is located at the junction of the Big Thompson Creek and Fall Creek, forming the Big Thompson River, and is the “Gateway to the Rocky Mountain National Park.” So it’s a tourist town. The Big Thompson flows through a real pretty canyon down to the prairie and joins the Platte River by Loveland, CO.  We drove up through this canyon on the Way to Estes Park, and I told my passengers about the flood that came rushing down the canyon in ’76 and killed something like 125 people.

We check into our motel, (normal rate $65.00/nite, but during the games $150/nite, ouch!), and headed off to dinner.  A dinner at a slightly up-scale place in Estes is around $20-25. (I’m giving prices so it some one would like to come out here, they’ll know what to expect).  On the way back to the motel we passed the golf course and sure enough, there were about 20 elk laying in the grass, on the approach to the 5th green. Later on that night, as I lie in my bed, the elk started to bugle.

The next morning I woke up just before dawn by the elk bugling.  Looking out the back window of the motel room, you could see them walking through the yards and eating the grass.  Tom got up and we started getting ready for the day.  We had to get our table set up before 8 a.m., so we drove over to the festival, unloaded our stuff, quickly set it up, and I drove back to the motel to get Patsy & Harold.  I got some coffee for Tom and we headed back to the tent. 

This was my first day in kilt.  I had no idea how much 9 yards of wool can weigh.  It was actually very comfortable, and the only problems I had was in sitting and getting in and out of a car. 

Friday was the first time the games went 3 full days, so by the time we got back to the tent, some tourist were already showing up. Also the weather was, to put it mildly for a first-time kilt-wearer, “brisk.” The clouds obscured the mountain peaks and it looked like it would start snowing at any moment, and it was windy.  By noon I was beginning to wonder what size I’d be in panty-hose.  But even though the crowds were not large, we had some good interest at our table and began signing people up.  Tom and I went around to all the other clans (except for one) and they all signed our petition to Lord Lyon, and many of them were very exited and supportive of our efforts to re-activate the Thompson clan. By mid afternoon, the temperatures had dropped and the crowds had thinned out, so at 5 p.m. we packed up and went back to the motel.  I had brought a blue ribbon to hang down from the bottom of my kilt, but one of the "old-timers" at the games warned me about doing so. She said that some of the "Free-spirited" women were known to reach up and check out the prize. Discretion took over me so I declined.  Truth be known, it was a dam cold day and I didn't want to let down the Thompson men.

We didn’t keep count of how many people had signed up to join our clan, but Tom and Harold were really excited about the interests shown.  The weather on Saturday was supposed to be warmer, so I expected a lot more visitors to our tent. We all went to bed early and were serenaded by the bugling elk again.

Again, I woke up before dawn on Saturday again by the damn elk making their racket. Our motel was on the edge of town and these things are all over the place.  We all got something to eat at the Motel and headed back to our tent.  The weather was much improved over Friday.  At 9:30 a.m. we were to take part in the parade through down town Estes Park. Buses were provided for us, and we were dropped off at the end of Main Street. Just like in the army, it was hurry up and wait. Tom Thompson showed up with his extended family and their “Thompson” T-Shirts so we had close to a dozen or so marching under our banner.  The parade was about four blocks long and the town was full of people, and they all seemed to follow us back to the games.  The games were packed: to get something to eat or drink took close to an hour.  We had people in lines waiting to talk to us.  The estimate thiis year was 100,000 visitors.

At 12:30 we had to line up for yet another parade, this time the “Parade of Tartans.” As I had said earlier, when Tom and I first spoke about hosting a tent, my only concern was marching by myself in these parades as I thought it would look poorly for outrclan to only have one person marching.  So I had invited members of my motorcycle club to join me.  They showed up, and along with Tom’s family and Michael and his friends, we had an excellent showing, as large as any clan. 

So the balance of Saturday was taken up by attending to the questions of all those visitors at our table.  I am not exaggerating when I say that it was a constant stream of visitors.  Some of them had been directed to us by other clans, and we took that as a real compliment.  So again back to the motel where we had a little celebration.  Since this was my first games where I took an active role, I didn’t know what to expect other than large crowd, but Tom and Harold were really excited by the interest shown us. So we stayed up a little later than normal, but when we did finally go to bed, the damn elk were making all kinds of noise, and then the coyotes started howling too.  Great! First it’s loved-starved elk keeping me up, and now the damn coyotes are howling to.  I never knew nature was so loud or love sick.

So when I woke up on Sunday I was happy it was the last day of the festival.  My feet hurt from all the marching from the previous day, and more importantly, I need to get some sleep.  The DAMNELK were eating right behind our room, making all kinds of noise. Not being able to take it anymore, I confronted them, in kilt.  They ignored me so I began throwing things at them.  The only thing I had was apples and granola bars. It got ugly for awhile, but they finally quieted down.  I think they felt embarrassed for making such a racket and keeping me awake.  I felt I made a connection with them as a group, and one large female elk in particular seemed very understanding with my complaints.  I am somewhat gifted in my ability to comune with nature, and I felt that I had made a connection. 

A brief breakfast and then back to the tent.  The crowds on Sunday were respectful, but not as large as Saturday’s. We again had a great turn-out. Michael and his band (Mulligan Stew) marched with us in the Sunday parade and then played about a half-dozen songs at our table. I thought his band was very well received and is quite good.  Again, we had a number of people sign up, and I would say that the games for the Thompson Clan was a success.

Back at the motel, Harold christened my kilt with just a little bit of scotch and we packed everything up and reviewed the weekend.  Again, Tom & Harold were very happy with the interest shown us, and we began to make plans for next year, (more on this in a minute). All packed up ready for the morning drive to the airport, we went to bed.

It was a quiet evening. Not love sick DAMNELK or trash-scattering coyote to be heard.

We got up on Monday morning only to find the DAMNELK were in the front lawn of the motel this time.  Grabbing the only weapons I had on hand (doughnuts and granola bars); I went outside to confront then.  As luck would have it, the elk weren’t looking for a fight, but rather had come by to say goodbye to us. Don’t ask me how these things happen, but certainly in nature, things like this are possible.  The same big doe elk I had come face to face with yesterday was now approaching me with a sad look in her big brown eyes.  I am gifted with a strange ability to befriend all dogs, (big bogs anyway), I’m sure my ear-scratching ability is know throughout the canine world.  Had my canine-seducing ability somehow crossed over to have the same effect on elk?  I thought to my self,  “Danny, you gotta be careful here, you don’t want to ruin another species”! Elk are too big and poop too much to be good house pets.

The same female elk and I shared a moment (and a doughnut), then with the car packed, we left, heading for the airport.  The big female elk started to follow my car, but i turn around in the drivers seat and looked her streigh in the eyes and shook my head "No"  I’m not sure, but I think I saw a tear well up in her large, brown eye.  Sometimes, for they’re own good, you have to be hard.  It’s not easy, but it’s a burden I have to bear.

Patsy, Harold and Tom made it to their plane and I headed home.  With a game as large at Estes Park, there’s no way I could have done it on my own, so my thanks and appreciation goes out to them.

So plans for next year.
First; with the response we received, I look forward to having a tent next year.  I’m at work typing this so I don’t have the names in front of me, but I believe we had two pages of name of people interested in joining our clan, most of course, are from the Colorado area.  Out of those names, certainly we should be able to get 5 or 6 to commit to helping with a table. With only 4 working the table and with a croud of this size, you don’t have much time to see what’s happening at the festival.  So I’m sorry Barbara, but I didn’t get a chance to see Albanac play, but I did buy one of their CD’s, the “LIVE’ one which I’ll send to you if you don’t already have one.  And it’s too bad because it’s a great festival with plenty of things to see and do.  With 5 or 6 people, it doesn’t have to be a 3 –day event for those working the table. 

Second; The cost, again, with more people working the table on some kind of schedule, you don’t have to stay in Estes Park and pay their robber prices.  The cost of the table, two chairs and one adult entry and parking pass was something like $175.00. With anywhere from 80,000- 100,000 people attending a three-day event, I think it’s very reasonable for the amount of exposure we received.

Third; What I’d like to do in the future.  This is not a complaint, merely an observation, but at this festival, all of the surnames represent themselves as if they were highland clans. This is well and good for us as we get ourselves established, but at some point I would want to inform people of the history of the border region and not just our surname, but all the other surnames of the same region.  I noticed the Armstrong’s’ and Turnbull’s tent, and any other tent with a borderer’s background did not make mention of their Border heritage. After I got home from the games, I spent every available moment reading two books that Tom had left with me about the border.  It’s such an interesting period of history, yet so few people are aware of it. At future games, I would like to see our association make an effort to inform our tent visitors, as well as other clans/surnames of this history, and the possible association their ancestors may have had in it.

Lastly:  I have several names, most from Colorado who either joined or who showed an interest in joining our association. In the next few weeks, I plan on sending them a letter reminding them of their interest, and if they haven’t done so, to visit our website, to get active in our organization, to support it, and get that genealogy to us.  This letter would be followed up with another after the new year (membership renewal time) and then again in the late spring.  We have another game in Denver in Mid-August and I would like our association to attend that one too.  By then I hope to have a “kit” available for someone working our table to referrer to regarding our association/history/goals.

Sometimes when you’re working a table, you almost feel like your trying to “sell” someone on joining your clan. It’s a feeling I don’t like; I think a person who has been “sold” doesn’t make for a good member, if they do join.  What I hope to accomplish when speaking with someone about our association, is to increase their interest, to excite them, and to provide them with a level of comfort so they know they’ll be welcomed in associating with us.  It’s not hard to do this with people when you’re enthused yourself.  Hopefully, with the new people we met, and what I think their caliber as potential members are, we’ll be able to begin a good, long period of growth.

Respectfully submitted, (and a bit long-winded, but I swear everything is true)

I remain,
Your obedient servent

Booner

 

 

 

 

Donna:
Hey Booner,

Well done my friend!   But....where is the photo of you in your new kilt?

Donna

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