last night i was told that my cabin on the river is gone, wiped out by the colorado flood. my neighbor said there is nothing there to even see anymore. my neighbors have lost everything. the neighborhood i have shared for months here on the blog is under water. the owner of the ranch has been in contact with my landlord, and i read on their facebook page that all the horses and critters are safe. so far, they have only lost one horse. the place i so warmly have talked about, the place where i healed my soul, is a disaster. even if she was always housing bugs and spiders. even if there were things that were not as convenient as city living, i loved living there.
i am in a state of shock, i can’t stop crying, i couldn’t sleep last night. in fact, i couldn’t really sleep all week. it has been such a strange 5 days. monday, i woke up with the sunshine and did some errands. i came home to find that wylie dog had gotten into the grapes i had harvested from the front yard. all i have heard lately is don’t give dogs grapes. i rushed him to the emergency vet unsure if he had consumed one, two, twenty, or none. the vet suggested he stay the night to be on fluids to flush anything out, as grapes can be deadly to dogs. i left the cabin on the way to the vet with a huge storm hanging over the mountains. by the time i left the vet it was pouring. that evening, though i was a mess about my boy, the neighbors were making me dinner. i decided the best thing to do was to go have a good time and get my mind off wylie. there were two couples that lived across the river from me and we often hung out drinking wine on their river beaches, my landlord too. needless to say they became my friends and my social outlet there on the river.
it wasn’t uncommon to discuss the flood that happened here in 1976. it killed over a 140 people, and there were signs all over the neighborhood cautioning flood- climb up, not out. my parents were the first to tell me about it. i never actually thought it could happen again. we are too sophisticated and smart now, right? i thought it was impossible. plus, how could it happen to us? looking back, the word flood came up too often.
to give you an idea of how bad this is. back in 1976 my neighbors knew the water was 4 feet deep in their house. today, the water was to the roof. thats at least over 9 feet. it swelled enough to take out my cabin which sat above the river at least 10 feet, yet it still swallowed it. my neighbor said my garden is still there, the tomatos still turning red.
we sat under a terrace monday night eating ribs, drinking wine, laughing and sharing stories. the rain was like a blanket, we actually kind of enjoyed it. the thunder started just as the sun was going down. it was such a fun evening and i was happy to have met these wonderful people, and i was sad i was leaving. that night, i couldn’t sleep. wylie wasn’t in bed with me, the movers were coming the next morning, and the rain danced on the roof. every time i woke up the sound of rain was soothing, yet something felt strange and eerie even then.
i got word in the morning that wylie would be fine and i could pick him up later that day. the clouds still hung low, it felt like a day in the PNW. the movers moved everything out and we went to the storage unit where again i heard the word flood. “what kind of flood insurance do you want to have for your storage unit?”
i picked up wylie and went back to the cabin to finish cleaning and packing the car. i had a junk removal service come pick up my couch, the driver mentioned how high the river was. i had noticed too how much it was rushing, but thought it was normal considering all the rain. i gave my new neighbor that had just moved in a few weeks prior a bunch of stuff from our fridge. we had recently had many conversations about our life experiences, why we both wanted to live in a cabin- i was bummed i wasn’t staying longer to get to know her. her house is gone now too, and i was told her cats were in the cabin.
that night i spent the night at my neighbors across the river. they made me dinner, a bass they caught on their most recent camping trip. we ate inside, because it was still raining. i was curious if this weather was normal. i asked laura to see her wedding album, i wanted to see their lives in a little more detail. that night i slept better, but the rain still fell. we woke up and had breakfast together. all week and even that morning laura kept trying to convince me to stay. i wanted too, but everything was settled so, i said my goodbyes i went back to the cabin to gather up the rest of my things and finish up the small details. the weather was so gloomy and wet. it didn’t seem or feel like the colorado i had come to know. i was annoyed to pack up the car in the rain, my sandals still have mud on them. i was annoyed that i had already mopped the kitchen floor 3 times. i got in the car and as i drove off i felt distant from this place. normally, i look at every detail, i get sentimental about every little thing. i look around to soak in all the memories…this time…i just left. i wanted to get out of that rain, even if i was driving to washington, where rain is normal. something didn’t feel quite right, but i didn’t even know it. i thought it was just sadness about leaving and i was simply avoiding my feelings.
i drove north on I-25 in heavy rain for over 2 hours. i contemplated turning around because i HATE driving in heavy rain. i get anxious. i kept going powering through. the rain finally let up a few hours outside yellowstone. i arrived to my little lodge and had a big glass of wine. the next morning i woke up early to hit the park. cell service was shotty, but about an hour in i got a text from my neighbor that they were in flood conditions. again, i took it lightly, thinking it was maybe a few inches of water. by that evening i had a conversation with laura and she explained it was bad. friday morning i woke up and couldn’t stop thinking about my neighbors, about how i wasn’t there. how did i miss this? by the time i arrived at my brothers in olympia, washington i got news that my neighbors lost everything, that my cabin was gone. it’s just gone. The water is up to the roof on both my neighbors houses. The river is 5 times wider.
i do not think luck is something you have, i think it is something that just happens. i don’t believe in fate really, i don’t even believe in god, as an individual being anyway. because why would god save me and not the others ?it was pure quincidance. i missed the start of the flood by 24hours. just 24 hours. i was paying rent until the 15th, and since i had made that arrangement, i still wanted to move out before for some reason. i was a bit anxious to get going, even if i was sad to leave. i had decided to have the movers come on the 10th because 1. i was superstitious about moving on on september 11th 2. i wanted to make it to my brother’s by friday to spend the weekend there. there are so many what if’s. what if i had extended the lease another 6 months? what if i had stayed until the 15th? what if i had stayed till the end of the month. back in beginning of august, i would have done so in a heart beat, but as time went on and i started packing, i wanted to just rip the band aid off.
i put my stuff in storage and it had me thinking lately about what all our stuff is. possessions. what not. are they necessary for our happiness? i was glad to be rid of it all for a bit. to live simply. i think that is strange i was thinking this way now. some stuff is just stuff, but some of it precious memories. all of it money and time. it is not something anyone can take lightly and i certainly dont anymore. I admit i have tried to imagine if i had still been there, if i had to evacuate, what i would take. how would i be feeling now, how would i handle it? i guess now i know my decision was the right one. either way i would have no place to live.
i can’t completely explain my emotions right now. i am sad, i am in shock, my eyes hurt from crying. my heart breaks for my friends and neighborhood. it is just all gone. all gone. it is a surreal feeling. there are moments when i know i am fine, everything is ok. there are moments i just want to cry again in shock of the reality of how close i came to being there, how my friends have to start there lives over. how the road up to estes park is pretty much gone and the death toll may continue to rise. everything feels like a different world now, that little piece of heaven for me- it feels like a dream. the beginning and the end. as if i was never there.
please keep all the people of colorado devastated by this flood in your thoughts.
the photo on the right is looking over the bridge to my neighbors. well, there once was a bridge there under that pile.
the second photo is an arial view of the property and the dam. that big swell is where my cabin and the neighbors once were.
I just received these photos last night. One is my garden. The other cabin sat where the river now is. The other photo is of my parking spot. My cabin was just to the left of the spot and those bushes.
19 thoughts on “colorado flooding: goodbye you sweet little cabin”
So sorry to read this, lucky you are safe!
So glad you are safe. Someone looks out for you. Be at ease and know you were spared.
Oh my goodness… I heard about the floods coming and had been sending my thoughts to everyone to tune into their intuition and find a safe place… Something inside you sensed what was happening and thank goodness you followed through… If only more of us listened to our intuition, the IAM presence that we truly are… Mother Earth is cleansing and if we don’t get to safe ground we find ourselves amongst it…
Each time I visit an island IAM always looking at nature and especially the animals… they can sense when to run to higher ground… unless they are trapped…
I can imagine your shock at this experience… I hope you find peace soon, remembering your friends always and move on to your new life… Barbara
This was a very hard post to read, but I can’t even imagine writing it. I am so glad that you and Wylie are safe, and I hope that your friends and neighbors are as well. They say these things happen for a reason, and I don’t know about that, but I do think that we make our decisions the way we do and things work out for the best, even though we don’t usually see it this fast. I shudder to think what would have happened had you still been living in that cabin. Best case is you would have lost everything you own. Worst case is a whole lot worse than that, and you just have to remember that part. You are safe. The cabin will always live in your memory, your photos and your record here on the blog. The lessons you learned about yourself won’t be undone or washed away by this flood.
So sorry to hear this news, for you, your friends and everyone else this affected.
How devastating! So glad you were able to immortalize your cabin experiences on here!
It’s real tragedy, So sorry for you and so glad that you and your dog are safe.
I guess it will take time to heal from this traumatic experience, my heart is with you.
sad, nature is unpredictable
thats awful lucky your safe hope things get better for all stay strong and move forward xxxx
I’m afraid we take mother nature for granted and forget the power she holds over us. Best wishes for your future.
This hurts to read, I hope you are okay, I hope something incredibly beautiful happens to your neighbors. That something beautiful happens to everyone.
WOW. I’m so sorry. Towards the end I even started to tear up. Maybe your friends could come stay with you and you could help heal each other’s souls. Also, I have a dog named Wiley too, I’m glad you are both okay.
Oh, no. There are no words. I am so sorry. But glad you weren’t there.
How awful, can’t imagine how it must feel like to loose your house like that, glad everyone is ok. You are in my thoughts.Jan x
I don’t know what to say, except my thoughts are with you and those affected by this natural disaster…
Thank you for your personal perspective on the flooding in Colorado. We hear the news but it is not always easy to personalize it. Your post did that. Things happen for a reason. Best to you in your next adventure.
So sorry to hear about this loss. I live in Denver and have been gutted by what’s going on. Hope you can find a little peace.
That is unbelievable, I’m sorry about your cabin.
I’m sorry for your loss.