Episode 59: Motorcycles to Steeples - Virginia Dale, Colorado
Episode 59: Motorcycles to Steeples - Virginia Dale, Colorado
Generation after generation of people have sought a connection with the seen and the unseen by gathering in remote places that they felt drawn to. You sometimes hear of someone having a “mountaintop” experience. Something very felt and most of the time, they describe it as, well, indescribable. I’ve certainly had such experiences way up high in the mountains, or from the seat of my motorcycle way out in the country. But there are places I love to go, where the goal is to stop the bike, turn off the noises and walk in faith knowing that there’s probably something larger happening around me that’s out of my control. And that’s OK.
Sometimes we think of motorcycling as a loud experience. The sound of the wind, the sound of the engine. Some use stereo systems blasting their favorite music for everyone to hear, whether they want to hear it or not. As a side note, tp do that in my opinion just projects to everyone around you what an inconsiderate dumbass you are. Just my opinion.
But today, we stop projecting our presence to the world and we try our best to fade into the scenery. To quiet our bikes, quiet our voices, stop the noise in our heads, and just be present and listen. To just, be. Eyes closed, or eyes wide open. Today, we go for a ride out in the country. Way out from any town. Today, we go to church. Thank you for joining me today.
OPENING MUSIC
If you study human history and study sociology even a little bit, you learn quickly that both ancient and modern people have sought to find peace of mind, just like we talk about on this podcast all the time. Urgent efforts to commune with others and even with the Spirits. What’s so cool is some of those places can still be found and in today’s episode, we’ll visit two of them, only about 1 mile apart from each other. Remote places you can ride your motorcycle to.
While I enjoy riding with friends or alone up high in the mountains, following twisty mountain roads that either trace their routes between mountain peaks, or twist in other ways, sharp corners, along mountain rivers. But I must admit, come of my favorite rides and on wide open roads that seem to go off into the distance forever, traffic-free. A couple of friends and I made such a ride just yesterday. A little over 300 miles of pure bliss.
This time, our ride took us through Virginia Dale.
About 50 miles northwest from my home in Loveland, Colorado and two places where I find myself quite often. Following highway 287 in vast, wide open spaces, just before the Colorado Wyoming border we a place called Virginia Dale. It’s a beautiful name isn’t it. Although the town of Virginia Dale no longer really exists, it’s a destination that I’ve reached by motorcycle for about 25 years now. It was nice riding there again yesterday.
Back in the 1800’s on an old west wagon route called the Overland Trail, Virginia Dale served as a vital “home” or “division” station, offering weary travelers a place to disembark, replenish their energy with a satisfying meal, and rest overnight in the comfort of a hotel. In addition to catering to passengers' needs, the station provided food and comfortable lodgings for the hardworking stage drivers. It housed a sizable barn where 30 to 50 horses were kept, along with corrals and a lush meadow where they could graze.
In 1865, Samuel Bowles, who was the editor of the Massachusetts Republican wrote the following while staying at the Virginia Dale stage station:.
“Virginia Dale deserves its pretty name. A pearly, lively-looking stream runs through a beautiful basin of perhaps one hundred acres. Among the mountains we are within the entrances of one of the great hills – stretching away in smooth and rising pasture to nooks and crannies of the wooded range; fronted by rock embankment, and flanked by the snowy peaks themselves; warm with the June sun, and rare with an air into which no fetid breath has poured itself. It is difficult to imagine a more loveable spot in Nature’s kingdom.”
Mister Bowles, that is my experience with Virginia Dale also. It is indeed breathtaking.
Now find here in Virginia Dale, the Abbey of Saint Walburga. It’s on a dirt road, easy to find off of highway 287, but the way the road twists and curves it’s way through the valley, the sounds of the highway are no longer heard by the time you reach the chapel. Silence, interrupted with the sounds of the wind blowing through the valley, the sound of a cow in the pasture, and the sound of singing.
The Abbey is served full time by about 30 nuns who work the surrounding land, raising cattle, local honey and hay for sale. Most importantly, the nuns have formal services, each open to the public, I believe 7 times a day, where they sing and pray for a very hurting world. Anyone can attend. Most importantly to me, I have reached out to the nuns at the Abbey several times over the years, either sending an email or showing up in person, to ask for guidance, or to just tell them thank you for their prayers of support.
My new grandson Theo, was born this past year very premature. A very scary time for my daughter and her husband, and all of us. The nuns at that Abbey way out in the country prayed for Theo. He’s a healthy little boy now.
Over the years they also prayed for family members and extended family and friends facing hardships. They have certainly prayed for me too. That’s why from time to time while on a motorcycle ride, I stop by to leave a donation and just to say thank you and shake the hand of a nun.
NEW SONG
Not but a mile away from the Abbey, is the Virginia Dale Church. A little white church whose doors are never locked. That’s right, anytime, night or day, you can just walk right in. You may ask how is it that in this day and age a little building with precious contents can stay unlocked and virtually unprotected way out in the country? Well my friends I don't know the answer to that. Divine protection? All I can tell you is that it's there and it's open right now and it's a place you may need to experience.
The church was originally established in the 1880s. there is no air conditioning. None is really needed at that elevation. There is a pot bellied stove that keeps the visitors warm in the winter. There is no running water no restrooms other than an outhouse on the outskirts of the property. Also on the property is a cemetery with some graves from the early 1800s. It's my understanding that the first three Graves in that Cemetery are of men who were shot and gunfights. Yes, this was the old west. just like in the movies. haha. the church has been maintained and cared for by the congregation in Virginia Dale Community for many years. This is a ranching community. Family ties and community support are important here. If someone needs help, then your neighbors help you. That’s just the way they do things. This is a simple existence out here, to care for your local community and pray for the world. Very similar to the charge of the nuns in the Abbie just over the hill.
What I find fascinating about the Virginia Dale Church when I go inside and just sit and be quiet, is that I recognize what has happened here over the many years. Babies have been brought to be dedicated to the church. Sadly young children have also been brought for burial as it was quite common for children to die at early ages back in the 1800s. Funerals were held here but also weddings. Lots of singing. Times of great joy and celebration.
I think it's easier for us sometimes to get mad at the religious establishment. sometimes I do too especially if they dabble in politics. but I can tell you first hand that my experience with attending such churches it as this and visiting Abby's like the Abbey of Saint Wahlberg has been very very positive. all humans are flawed. anyone who tells you they are not flawed well you should run away from them as quickly as possible, ha ha. so I guess my experience with churches has been a place where I could either go by myself and commune with the spirits or it's a place where I have poured out my own burdens to a community who genuinely cared for me.
One thing for certain, riding my motorcycle to such places as the Abbey of Saint Walburga and the Virginia Dale church, either alone or with a few friends, has brought me a great deal of joy and, yes, Peace of Mind. And for that, I can very grateful.
As always, thank you for listening. I wish you peace. I wish you love.
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