When Rocks Stampede

Yeah, I know:  animals stampede.  People stampede, especially in flash mobs and at post Christmas sales.  Centipede.  Perhaps the US Postal Service came out with a stamp that peed. 

But rocks don't stampede.

Or maybe they do.  Just ask my pet rock, Seymour.

Here is photo evidence of (in)famous rock stampedes from the not-so-distant past, and localized to my neighborhood, so to speak.

I can't remember the exact date of the top photo, though it was after the second photo, which was June of 2005.  Lots of rain had been falling prior, and something 'spooked' one rock, causing a chain reaction in about a thousand or so tons of them, causing about 100 yards of heretothen placid, grazing rocks to break for Clear Creek in a sudden flash mob with designs of skinny dipping, panning for gold, or chasing trout for the sheer delight of it.

Someone forgot to tell the crazed rock herd about certain facts of life, nature and mobility; few, if any of the rocks made it to Clear Creek.  But they soitenly made a mess of highway US 6, west of Golden, CO.

Engineers and geologists chose to refer to this as "a massive slope failure".  A spokesstone for the herd responded with a "yeah, whatever" wink and nod. 

And a scant couple-three years later, a lad of rock-climbing inclinations -- see what I just did there? -- returned from an invigorating exercise of climbing on and over rocks, to find that one took a special liking to his heretothen chosen mode of automotive transportation (top photo).

Like it's prior stampeders, this rather impressive rock took for granite certain facts of nature and science.  Perhaps it had seen ads by certain sports luminaries who espoused the virtues and joys of life behind the wheel of a GM product, back before it became Government Motors.

Not only was it an epic FAIL on the part of the rock, but it didn't earn it endorsements and photo ops from GM, either.

At least one rival auto manufacturer considered using the photo in their own ads ("It ain't one of ours under there!"), but a spokesperson for Yugo was curiously unavailable for follow up.

After a rather dry start to the spring and summer -- sparking fire to get the notion to stampede through areas that would rather not see fire stampede thus -- Colorado is getting some early season monsoonal relief.  This welcome relief has encouraged trees, grasses and other plants to not need to stampede, while discouraging fire from doing the same.

Unfortunately, it has had an opposite effect on the rocks.

Someone at the Discovery Channel might want to get up a documentary for the rocks of Clear Creek Canyon, clearing up a few misconceptions they've garnered down the years about stampeding, or attempting to imitate certain fish that migrate upstream to breed.

And while 'blowing tires' sounds erotic, it really isn't pleasurable to all involved parties.

Yes, I did ask Seymour to intercede with his canyon brethren, but despite my most eloquent efforts, he's turned to stone.

"PHHHFFFFFFFTTTT!"

Well, pretty much.