I wish I could say that I’m such an avid landscape photographer that I would seek and hunt down the world’s greatest sceneries no holds barred.
But in truth I was merely seeking the cheapest place to visit this summer that the family hasn’t been to yet and was surprised that it was actually cheaper to fly to Denver from New York than it was to some parts of the east coast.
I also didn’t know if Rocky Mountain retained its alps during the summer so I was surprised when a fellow passenger pointed out the snow-capped mountains in the distance when our plane was about to land in Denver.
At the entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, I thought we would only reach a spot on the ground where all the tourists go and take the same pictures and that would be that. To my surprise, we were allowed to drive all the way up to the top -- all 12,000 feet of it -- and frolic in the snow just when New York City was experiencing its second hottest day on record.
And driving up the mountains -- no hiking involved -- involved curves that offered new vistas at every turn and landscapes that perhaps no other photographer has yet captured. The photographic opportunities were limitless!
So Denver was surprise after surprise. There was a surprise at every turn both literally and figuratively.
I guess the only downside after seeing Rocky Mountain National Park is that most other sceneries in life become somewhat pale by comparison. So I’m guessing this is how serious landscape photographers get their start. After seeing something like Rocky Mountain National Park with a camera in hand -- easily one of the most beautiful places on earth -- like a shot of adrenaline any lowly photographer would be so inclined as to dream of pooling all of life’s earnings to achieve one goal only: to seek and hunt down the world’s greatest sceneries -- no holds barred.

It is also remote and very rural. From the different directions we came in and headed out, we drove through 15-22 miles of woodlands to and from the nearest cluster of villages. Lakes, ponds, and old barns occasionally came into view as we rolled up and down the hills. 
Still, once we got into town, the mood turned festive. Red-white-and-blue bunting hung on building facades, volunteers carrying buckets cheerily asked for donations, and restaurants were filled to capacity. The Narrowsburg-Darbytown Bridge which joins the New York and Pennsylvania hamlets of the same names, had families with children running around while waiting for the fireworks display to begin. For such a small town, I thought the turnout was amazing. 