^{Spring Break is here and Rocky is getting visitors from all over the country. Maybe that's why these Sandhill Cranes decided to stop by out in Moraine Park! They are probably Grus canadensis tabida, or "Greater Sandhills," and part of the Rocky Mountain population. These birds winter in New Mexico and then move on up into NW Colo, Wyoming, Idaho and Montana (but not Nebraska). Good thing they had a nice protected place to stop and take a break! (The cranes at Kearney Nebraska are Grus canadensis canadensis - "Lesser Sandhills") kb/ks}
Explore many miles of cycling and mountain biking trails or go white water rafting, paddling, wind-surfing and kayaking. Mesa Lake is rumored to be the best place in Colorado for trout fishing and in winter you can even go ice fishing. You can expect to find the full gamut of winter sports, including thrilling snowmobile tours. If you need a break from the action, you can visit the Pioneer Museum or a few of the local art galleries.
The land that now houses the cozy Rustic River Cabins was originally declared a homestead of 160 acres in the Big Thompson Canyon in 1903. Through a series of owners, name changes and new buildings, it became Rustic River Cabins in 2003 and now has seven all-season, pet-friendly cabins which sleep between two and eight guests and feature a fireplace, a full kitchen and private hot tubs in five. They were originally built in the mid-1940s and offer a cozy charm that’s perfectly suited for a mountain getaway.
The famous hot springs of Glenwood is a must-see and do for all romantics. Located in Glenwood Springs, less than 3 hours from Denver, the historic and local family-owned Hotel Denver spans more than 100 years with many stories to tell, including Colorado immigrants, prohibition, gangsters, world wars, and even a Wild West shooting or two. This Colorado hotel has bragging rights to prime real estate in historic downtown Glenwood Springs, close to the train, many restaurants, shopping, the Hot Springs Pool, and our personal favorite, the Iron Mountain Hot Springs.

The sun made us lazy, and after following Brian as he made his way upstream I found a wider expanse of sand and gravel, promptly plopping down on a pair of flip flops I had brought in my backpack as a make-shift seat. After identifying the northern harrier hawk over my head, and the savannas sparrows and red-winged blackbirds perched precariously on reeds across the water, I took out my knitting project. I didn’t have to worry about losing Brian; in the valley I could see for miles in both directions.