Following
the signs, we got off the interstate at Grand Junction, a city
roughly the size of La Crosse. It reminded me a little of Madison
for some reason. We were going to the Colorado National Monument.
The boys said we would love “The Monument” as the locals call it.
We did. We turned down a boulevard and found the entrance to the
park. Immediately we started climbing, twisting round and round up
out of the valley. The landscape is rugged but spectacular. The
Monument Canyon is the most obvious feature, running the thirty some
mile length of the park. We stopped to view and photograph over a
dozen times. The canyons
are cut deep into sandstone and granite with high cliffs and
beautiful rock formations of red and orange and yellow. The bottoms
look rough but are mostly green with cottonwoods, grass, and sage.
The Ute Indians used to camp in these canyons and there are hiking
trails in and out of the deep canyons. The plateau on top is covered
with pinion and juniper. Some of the tortured looking trees had
signs saying they were estimated to be thousands of years old. We
saw many birds, but not much else wildlife-wise, although animals and
birds are supposed to be plentiful, including red-tailed hawks and
golden eagles, ravens, jays, desert
bighorn sheep,
and coyotes.
The views from Rim Rock drive, which is just that, a highway that
winds along the very edge of the canyon, were breathtaking. We could
often see back across the valley to Grand Junction and Palisades far
off in the distance.
After
several hours, we ended up back on I-70 at Fruita, a small town. The
lady at the visitor's center was friendly and helpful with maps and
history. Their claim to fame is a story of a great train robbery.
Butch Cassidy and others had
allegedly blown up a train with so much dynamite that most of their
take was lost to the explosion before they took off for South
America. The other is the Naval Petroleum
and Oil Shale Reserves Office.
The US Navy took an interest in shale oil as far back as 1951 and in
the 70's the Navy conducted
extensive tests with the fuels in
military and commercial uses. A sign in the the visitors' center
said the shale oil and mining industries provide thousands of jobs in
the area. I asked the lady about the reserve and she pointed up a
canyon behind the town and said, “You're looking at it.”
We
headed west again on our way to Moab, Utah. Mark had said to be sure
and take Highway 128, not 191. He was right. 128 sliced straight
across miles of barren open range land and then dropped down into the
Colorado River canyon for mile and miles. It was raining a bit up on
the plateau and we saw at least 3 rainbows, but the rain quit when we
got in the canyon. The river had long slow stretches punctuated by
rapids all surrounded by high walled canyons or far distant vistas
with purple plateaus and buttes rising up from the prairie. It was
nearing sundown and the canyon walls were red, orange, green, and
more purple. The far off rock formations took on shades of
bluish/purple or golden orange from the setting sun. El was driving
and I was snapping away with my Nikon. We passed incredible looking
pastures, obviously irrigated, with fancy horses and mule deer
sharing the grass in front of several high end looking dude ranches.
Moab
is a pretty neat little town. The main streets and side streets are
lined with small shops and restaurants as well as all the modern
amenities like MacDonald's and Subway. It is surrounded by desert
and parks like Arches and Dead Horse Point and Canyon Lands. We
spent the next morning wandering around Arches National Park. The
rock formations are almost other worldly as huge buttes of stone have
been carved through by the wind and rain to create arches big enough
to drive a battleship through. The country is unlike anything I have
ever seen. We had a great visit with a German family who was on
holiday. They said they couldn't believe how courtious and friendly
most
Americans
were. One daughter remarked, “They even bagged our groceries in
the market.” The father said that in Germany, clerks disappear or
are surly to customers. They also commented on some young Germans
who were having a raucous time taking pictures of them with arches in
the background and booze bottles in front. “They are not real
Germans, they are from Bavaria!” said the father.
That
afternoon we drove into Dead Horse Point State Park. Mark said it is
as close to being in the Grand Canyon as you can get without going
there. He was right. Spectacular views of the Colorado River
winding and carving its way through desert stone. We were nearly
half-a-mile above the river canyon. The cryptic park name comes from
a local legend that cowboys would drive mustangs onto the point and
block off their exit, making for a natural corral. Of course some
unfortunates must have been pushed or jumped to their deaths.
Regardless, the views are well worth the trip. We could see the sky
blue water of what appeared to be lakes in the distance, but a park
ranger said it was a salt operation. The miners injected water into
the earth and pumped it back out allowing it to dry in the sun and
then collected the salt.
We
stayed in Durango that night. Ellen bought a box of Palisades
peaches from a street side market and we ate Mexican that night. In
the morning we had breakfast with an older couple from Pennsylvania
(in their 80's) who were in Colorado for a wedding and then more
travel. They said they had friends and family in Wisconsin. He said
he had been a Spam salesman for Hormel. I told him I love Spam. He
said, “Lots of people do.”
On
another tip from our kids, we drove north to Montrose and then on to
Silverton and took 550 a.k.a. the Million Dollar Highway to Ouray.
Though the entire stretch has the name, the Million Dollar Highway
was originally the twelve miles south of Ouray through
the Uncompahgre Gorge to the summit of Red Mountain Pass. We met
a snowplow coming down the mountain. Uh oh! We wondered what we
were getting into. After getting over the pass, we came upon some
highway equipment in pull out piled high with red mud and rock that
had just been cleared from the road, the remnants of recent rains and
flash flooding we guessed. We had to go really slow to keep from
sliding. The stretch is challenging and can be hazardous with steep
cliffs, narrow lanes, hairpin curves and few if any guardrails. We
met a semi on one! We passed what remains of the Idarado Mine. What
a place to work! When we first saw Ouray a.k.a. The Switzerland of
America, it took our breath away. We were almost right above it, like
1,000 feet on a tight curve with a steep drop. Ouray is at almost
8,000 feet and surrounded by peaks. The town was quaint and I'd like
to go back there and stay some day I think. The highway from there
to Gunnison was an easy drive down through wide mountain valleys with
ranches and prosperous looking homes. I saw my ranch. It was just
outside of Fairplay. The arrow straight road was maybe two-miles of
reddish dirt, with a winding creek through large pastures and fields.
The ranch at the end nestled up against what was probably the
foothills of national forest land. The realty sign went by too fast
to record it, but if I was going to get a ranch in Colorado, this one
would probably make the cut, and it is only two days drive from home
and a few hours from the kids. I googled ranches in the area and one
151 acre ranch in that valley was going for $2.4 million. I can get
that; I just gotta keep buying those lottery tickets.
We
got home in time to celebrate Labor Day weekend with a very
successful - and chilly - fishing trip to Lake Onalaska.
Until
next time, get out - Ellen and I traveled up to Vilas County this
week to begin celebrating our 40th
anniversaries with Barb and Chuck. We visited Curt Christiansen in
Hazelhurst and stayed in a cabin at the Whispering Pines resort on
upper Gresham Lake with a plan to fish in a number of lakes. By the
time your read this, we'll be home. More on the north country trip
next time. Enjoy.
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