With joy and sadness we announce the retirement of Ann McGowan (RE) from Windsor Presbyterian Church. Ann has served almost eight years as an administrative assistant at Windsor. She began her career teaching elementary music for 34 years in the public school system. She was recruited by Rev. Bob Cook to become choir director in Colfax. She then moved to Cottage Grove Presbyterian where she served as choir director for 27 years as well as administrative assistant for 6 years. We will miss her greatly and will be doing our best to try to fill her shoes. Applications are being accepted for a part time administrative assistant. Please direct inquiries to Shamaine Chambers King.

You are invited to a service of worship to celebrate with us as Cindy L. Ray is ordained as minister of Word and Sacrament. The congregation invites you to a reception following the service to celebrate their new Parish Associate.

October 8, 2023
4 p.m. – 6 p.m.

Windsor Presbyterian Church
6301 University Avenue
Windsor Heights, IA 50324
Additional parking is available in the lot across University or at Windsor Methodist Church.

For years, Presbyterians partnered with churches in Russia and communed as members of the body of Christ. With the war in Ukraine, travel to Russia and the region is nearly impossible. In this conference, we will hear from and about churches in East Europe and how they are responding to God’s mission in their region in the midst of war and violence. Click here for more information. For questions, contact mission executive Amgad Beblawi.

by Ken Rummer

“It might be a bit bumpy.”  That was my brother’s report as he briefed us on our planned adventure.

The train route over Rollins pass, completed in 1903, was the first to make it across the continental divide in Colorado. A Forest Service road now follows the old line up the mountain, and we were on it.

“A bit bumpy,” I discovered, is Colorado-speak for driving over stones as big a wash tubs and rocks still sharp from being blasted out of the mountain.

My brother, who was driving, had to read the road the way a kayaker reads the rapids, picking out a path that wound from high spot to high spot across deep ruts, trying to avoid rock scrape or worse to the underside of the SUV, splashing through water holes of indeterminate depth, steering right for the guardrail-free cliff edge before tacking back across the boulders. The vehicle pitched and jerked, bucked and shuddered. So did the passengers.

But there were compensations. We passed through aspens and spruce, glimpsed Fireweed and Indian Paintbrush, and wound through narrow cuts in mountain rock. Here and there the view opened to reveal the valley far below.

The trip was taking longer than expected, but we held out hope of reaching one of the two lakes near the top.

On the verge of turning back, we caught sight of a bit of water reflecting through a gap in the thinning trees. A little farther, and there it was, Yankee Doodle Lake, mirroring the mountain still above us with its remnant patch of snow. So beautiful.

We found a place to park near a shaded spot and broke out the picnic supplies. The altimeter on my phone read 10,780 feet, but we all agreed we’d round it up to 11,000 when we told the story.

Scanning toward the top of the mountain, our binoculars could pull in the Needle’s Eye Tunnel, the one that the first train used when it made it across the pass and on to the west. On the far shore of the lake, two fishermen kept the trout entertained. And before us, still water reflected rocks and trees and clouds back-lit by sunshine.

“Not many get to see that,” my nephew said later, and given the state of the road I could see why.

The downward trip was much the same as the one going up, winding our way through the water holes, over the sharp rocks and rounded boulders, bouncing and lurching, finally reaching the smoother gravel, and then the pavement, following the river all the way to Boulder.

Now, sorting through the pictures and the recollections, I wonder about a takeaway. Something like: If you’re still on the paved road, you’re not in the mountains yet. Or: Memories stick better when surviving the adventure is in at least some doubt.

Or maybe this story is about the possibility of beautiful surprises along difficult paths. I certainly found some on the road to Rollins Pass.

About the author: Ken Rummer is a retired pastor in the Des Moines Presbytery.

Central Presbyterian Church is having a church-wide garage sale to benefit Habitat for Humanity. There are many great items including vintage clothes, furniture, household goods, antiques, games, toys and much more. All proceeds from the sale are going to benefit Habitat for Humanity and the good work they do in Des Moines. So come get some great items to support a good cause!

September 22, 8 a.m. – 4 p.m.
September 23, 8 a.m. – 2 p.m.

Central Presbyterian Church
3829 Grand Ave
Des Moines, IA 50312