I have similar memories, but mine were of camping and fishing in a cove at Fall River Reservoir in SE Kansas surrounded by trees and the lapping of the water on the shore. At night you could hear beavers and if you shone a lantern towards the far side of the cover you could even see them gnawing the trunks of small trees before they scurried off into the dark. Blue herons would fly across the cove at sunset and the water became a pallet of oranges, yellows, and reds. My father worked in construction and wanted to get away for long weekends or when laid off to escape the sound of jackhammers and other equipment. So glad stumbled onto your article, as they say, "reading about your Colorado memories was good for my soul and took me back to earlier times when my father was still alive and our family of eight was still intact". He passed away when my youngest daughter was five and she is thirty-two now.