Charles Craig Dawson

My father Charles Craig Dawson passed away last night at an age of 86 years old. I mention him here because this blog is in large part due to his love of the mountains and out doors. My father had an ongoing passion for the out doors and he worked hard to share this with my brothers and I. It is from these times that come some of my fondest memories of him.

My introduction to the mountains of Colorado was made with trips to Aspen, Colorado. I was younger than 6 years old and we would spend summers camped above Aspen in the Castle  Creek Valley. My brothers and I would sleep in a cabin tent on bunk cots with our mother cooking in dutch ovens over a keyhole fire. I remember the sound of the river and chasing the bugs and butterflies. It was these trip and his love of the mountain that led him to move our family to Aspen in 1965.

In Aspen he continued to share the mountains of Colorado and then the Canyons of Utah with my 3 older brothers and I. He would pile us into the back of his old Willey’s Jeep and take us up in the the mountains to places like Gold Hill, Weller Lake, Midnight Mine and others. He also had a love for photography that he would share with us on these trips.

When I was about 7 years old my father took me on my first off-road adventure trip. We left Aspen by way of Taylor pass then onto the Old Cottonwood Pass then back to Aspen over a then dirt Independence Pass. There were 2 jeeps, dads, cousins and brothers on this trip. It is in his memory that I will be crossing these passes this summer on my 9 in 2009 Colorado Pass tour.  

Arches was a place of wonder for me at an age of 8 or 9 years old. There I had my introduction to being the camp cook as my father handed the dinner duties over to me. On another trip with him I remember gazing in wonder at the hoodoos in Goblin Valley then hiking to the end of the canyons and gazing over the desert towards Hanksville. On yet another trip the two of us spent time walking the rim stone at Natural Bridges and gazing with fascination at the fragile life that exist in the potholes.  These are but a few of the experiences he shared with me that has led me to have the same passion. Wow.. What a legacy.

I feel the grief of loss and at the same time joy with the gifts he has left me.

Dad….. Thanks for the gift of the mountains the sound of the wind in the red rock canyons and the spirit of adventure that you have left me with. May I also pass this on to my children…  May you rest in peace…

My Brothers comments on our father.