It was in 1978. We were driving to Idaho to visit my brother. Up until then, the only mountains I had seen were the Arkansas foothills and another small hill in Santa Anna, Texas called "Santa Anna Mountain". I doubt seriously if I had seen anything over a thousand feet high. Where I grew up, Louisiana, was as flat as could be. The highest point was only a little over five hundred feet high. I read internet sites that help guide people who want to reach the highest point in all fifty states. For Louisiana's entry, there isn't ever really a high point. The site just says walk around a bit at these GPS coordinates and you've probably laid foot on the highest point in Louisiana.
Anyway, on the way to Idaho, we crossed Texas and spent the night near the Texas - New Mexico border. The next day, we crossed the "corner" of New Mexico on our way to Colorado. Besides mountains, another earth feature that I find incredibly beautiful is the desert. The sight of vast earth and sky with no trees or buildings blocking the incredible vastness of our world is an awesome and wonderful sight. I just watched out of the window at the desert and sky. As we approached the Colorado border, I saw a feature interrupting the desert and sky. It was a mountain peak, rising out of the desert. Even though we were dozens of miles away, I could see it was incredibly huge, with the snowcapped top that I'd only seen in pictures. It sort of reminded me of the time that, at my summer job one night, somebody brought a telescope and trained it on Saturn. He invited me to take a look and what I saw was like every picture of Saturn I'd seen in science magazines - the beautiful ringed gas giant. There's something about seeing something in a book or magazine or on television then seeing it in person. It's like the fact that mountains or Saturn actually exists could be a lie or some massive deception, but seeing it with your own eyes, well, you realize that it is real. I looked at our map and learned that the mountain was Cuelebra Peak. As we drove, we passed it by, and soon entered Colorado with its dozens, if not hundreds of high mountains lived.
I've been to Idaho many times since, and always loved the mountains. If I am fortunate enough to retire, I will go to live in the mountains. It's possible they'll lose their awe and wonder, living in them every day - sort of like how New Yorkers never notice the Statue of Liberty. Somehow, I doubt it. Even, so the first mountain I ever saw will always have a special place in my heart.
