Greetings, Gentle Readers. It is we, Stacy Lyn’s Traveling Socks, here. We have been in the bureau drawer since Stacy Lyn returned from Pensacola, but as we lay there, thoughts of a girl kept running through Stacy’s mind.

Who is that girl? The one and only girl for Stacy Lyn – her daughter Jillian. Jillian spent the summer out West, and Stacy Lyn can only endure so much empty Jillian space in her life before she needs another dose of her girl. So she pulled us out of the drawer, packed a bag, and drove, westward. Sort of.

First, she drove northward and spent a lovely evening in Arkansas with her dear friend Rhonda. (Yes, that’s the Rhonda of Gal Pal fame.) Chatting, knitting, and watching old episodes of Northern Exposure were on the docket.

But the thoughts of the girl were strong, so Stacy Lyn left in the wee hours of the morning and didn’t stop driving until she reached Breckenridge, Colorado – one of her favorite spots on the planet, and the town where her girl was being a girl.

Suddenly, subsequently, bliss occurred. They traveled hinder and yon with Stacy Lyn’s folks to see Colorado in summer, a heretofore untapped experience.

They camped in Raspberry Gulch where there were no frogs at night. No cicadas. No crickets. They had never heard silence at night in the wilderness. Louisiana’s bayous and woods are so noisy after dark!

And….it was cold. In August, we’re telling you! Stacy Lyn had to warm her toes by the fire. (We weren’t cold. We’re made of wool.)

They visited the charming towns of Buena Vista and Salida (pronounced BYOOna Vista and Sa-LIE-da by the locals), where the clouds held the heat at bay.

The clouds bothered neither us nor this charming gentle fellow. Can you see him hiding in plain sight between the shed and the brick building? Stacy Lyn was charmed by the bent fence, too.

Next they drove to Leadville – which boasts the wildest saloon in the Wild West, and Steamboat Springs, too, where the sun returned to warm their skin. (We don’t have skin. We’re just a pair of socks.)

Mount Princeton, with its chalky cliffs and its school that once was; and the place where Pike had to camp before finding his peak were sights and sites that we cannot fail to cite here.

Then real life came knocking and it was time to venture homeward. Southward first, though, to el Rio Grand del Norte, where we paused to take a picture on the precarious precipice, and where we noticed a lone lock. Was it set there by lovers as paramours do in Paris?

We spent an afternoon at the plaza in Taos, New Mexico, marveling at the architecture that is so different from that of Louisiana. It’s hard to believe that such diversity exists in our nation, and it’s something of which we should be very proud.

We continued eastward and enjoyed a spectacular meal at the Mucho Grande restaurant in Santa Fe after visiting the St. Rosario cemetery. Stacy Lyn is not creeped out by marble cities. (Not a lot, anyway.)

The rest was a hot, dusty drive across Texas where Stacy Lyn got something under her contact lense and was quite uncomfortable. But, behold! There was one more surprise in store for the duo – the little town of Quanah, Texas. You see, Quanah Parker was the last Comanche war chief, and is one of Stacy Lyn’s heroes. She even made a pilgrimage one year to Fort Sill, Oklahoma to pay her respects at his grave. (See? Not creepy at all!) So, though she didn’t want the adventure to end, this was a fitting way to say goodbye to summer.

Now, friends, we are tucked away in the bureau drawer until our next outing. So long, for now.