2019 Mesa Verde
Day One--Thursday, August 08, 2019
Our Day One began at 3:45 PM on Thursday. I made Margo a promise that I would get out of work at 3 PM, so we could begin this road trip early, and get to Black Hawk, so she could enjoy that. I ended up having to stay just a little longer, and left my office a mess, and at least one thing half done, but I got out of there.
Backing up about four hours, I had taken a long lunch to pick up Margo and take her to the Rental Car area at Denver International Airport. We went back and forth on this, but finally decided to rent a car, instead of taking her Buick. I still have an oil leak, and I have an irrational concern, not a fear, as I could do it, of having mechanical issues with our own car, and not only ruining the trip, but then having to deal with a broken down car way away from home. It has happened on a couple of trips. One back in 1989, which I handled very well, because I was prepared. The other about 1983 or so, when I broke down and had to abort that trip. Sometimes you just listen to that little voice, even if it means spending some money.
So we got the car. We rented a Ford Focus, but by the way the guy was pushing an upgrade, for only $20 more per day, I had a feeling he did not have a car for us, in that class. So, I just declined the upgrade and waited. He put us in a Kia Soul, which is their, crossover or SUV, I don’t know which. I do know it has more room than the Focus, so we were happy.
We were on the road just 10 minutes after I got home. Margo had completely, except for the very heavy cooler, loaded up the Kia. We said our good-byes to Jackie and the dog and left. I am sure the dog is going to miss us more. I think Jackie was actually looking forward to having no one tell her what to do for four days.
Speaking of the dog, we had bought Nellie a new toy, more to suave Margo’s guilty conscience. Nellie thanked her for it by turning it into a pile of white fluff in about 3 minutes. The pile was still there when we left, with a promise from Jackie to clean it up for us.
The traffic on I-76 sucked, even at 4 PM on a Thursday. Knowing how much time we were going to spend in our car this trip, I suggested to Margo that we listen to an audiobook. I had one in mind; A Cold Dish, by Craig Johnson. This is the first in the Longmire series.
I promised a bit of information about Longmire Days, and this is a good place to get that taken care of. Several years ago I heard about a television series called Longmire. It is about the sheriff of fictional Aboroska county, in northern Wyoming. I thought it might be worth a watch and both Margo and I really liked it. The protagonist is Walt Longmire, sheriff. He is a combination between John Wayne and Sherlock Holmes. Somehow it, with its cast of characters, works. The series ran for six seasons, the last of which was in 2017. But, since 2012, the city of Buffalo, WY, which is near where author Johnson lives, hold Longmire Days. Several of the actors from the series more or less host the festival. We want to go next year.
Anyway, with this audiobook in hand the slow traffic was much more tolerable. It took us about 1 ¼ hours, instead of an hour to get to our hotel. We were planning to stay at Lady Luck, but we parked at its next door sister hotel, the Isle of Capri. We were told we could check in at either place. The desk clerk asked if we wanted to stay at the Isle, since we were right there. After verifying the price was the same, and knowing that they had renovated most of the rooms, I agreed.
Backing up about four hours, I had taken a long lunch to pick up Margo and take her to the Rental Car area at Denver International Airport. We went back and forth on this, but finally decided to rent a car, instead of taking her Buick. I still have an oil leak, and I have an irrational concern, not a fear, as I could do it, of having mechanical issues with our own car, and not only ruining the trip, but then having to deal with a broken down car way away from home. It has happened on a couple of trips. One back in 1989, which I handled very well, because I was prepared. The other about 1983 or so, when I broke down and had to abort that trip. Sometimes you just listen to that little voice, even if it means spending some money.
So we got the car. We rented a Ford Focus, but by the way the guy was pushing an upgrade, for only $20 more per day, I had a feeling he did not have a car for us, in that class. So, I just declined the upgrade and waited. He put us in a Kia Soul, which is their, crossover or SUV, I don’t know which. I do know it has more room than the Focus, so we were happy.
We were on the road just 10 minutes after I got home. Margo had completely, except for the very heavy cooler, loaded up the Kia. We said our good-byes to Jackie and the dog and left. I am sure the dog is going to miss us more. I think Jackie was actually looking forward to having no one tell her what to do for four days.
Speaking of the dog, we had bought Nellie a new toy, more to suave Margo’s guilty conscience. Nellie thanked her for it by turning it into a pile of white fluff in about 3 minutes. The pile was still there when we left, with a promise from Jackie to clean it up for us.
The traffic on I-76 sucked, even at 4 PM on a Thursday. Knowing how much time we were going to spend in our car this trip, I suggested to Margo that we listen to an audiobook. I had one in mind; A Cold Dish, by Craig Johnson. This is the first in the Longmire series.
I promised a bit of information about Longmire Days, and this is a good place to get that taken care of. Several years ago I heard about a television series called Longmire. It is about the sheriff of fictional Aboroska county, in northern Wyoming. I thought it might be worth a watch and both Margo and I really liked it. The protagonist is Walt Longmire, sheriff. He is a combination between John Wayne and Sherlock Holmes. Somehow it, with its cast of characters, works. The series ran for six seasons, the last of which was in 2017. But, since 2012, the city of Buffalo, WY, which is near where author Johnson lives, hold Longmire Days. Several of the actors from the series more or less host the festival. We want to go next year.
Anyway, with this audiobook in hand the slow traffic was much more tolerable. It took us about 1 ¼ hours, instead of an hour to get to our hotel. We were planning to stay at Lady Luck, but we parked at its next door sister hotel, the Isle of Capri. We were told we could check in at either place. The desk clerk asked if we wanted to stay at the Isle, since we were right there. After verifying the price was the same, and knowing that they had renovated most of the rooms, I agreed.
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Our room was definitely one that had been renovated. Everything looked to be shiny and new. It looked like it was going to be a great place to get some rest. We went down stairs to begin working on dinner plans. There are plenty of places to eat in Black Hawk. Every casino has a sit down restaurant and then a smaller one, that is either fast casual or a café type with table service. We decided on the Dash Café in our hotel.
Margo had packed about every kind of drink and snack imaginable for our trip. One of those was a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, which I decided I wanted. I knew that we could not take any alcohol out of the hotel, but I was unaware that we could not even take an out of our room. Some casino worker noticed and explained things, when he saw me. Kill joy. I ended up making two trips to our room, the second to return the bottles. Joke was on them. I finished mine and only put Margo’s away. Anyway, Margo finished up first, and I sent her out to the casino. I was having a more leisurely meal, reading the news on my phone. She was soon sending me texts, plural, with wins of more than $100. She wandered back to the café, just as I was finishing up, and showed me her winning tickets. Off to a good start. It is our practice to go to multiple casinos, moving from place to place as our luck waxes and wanes. Mine was almost exclusively on the wane side. Margo was doing her Karate Kid imitation and waxing all over the place. We finished up at the Monarch. My lucked changed and I actually had a couple of winning machines. Margo’s luck also changed and she couldn’t win. When she loses, she loses like she wins. By 11:00 PM, I was back in our room. As traditional, when we stay oversight at a casino, Margo was not done yet. So and hour or so later, about the time I was finishing up the start of this letter, she was coming back. I think she ended the night up $40. I was down over a $100. We were getting an early start, so we really need to get to bed. I think we called it a night around 12:30 AM |
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Day Two--Friday, August 09, 2019
I was up around 6:30 PM. The goal was to be on the road by 8:30 PM. It was going to be a long drive to Durango, about 6 driving hours, plus stops for restrooms and lunch. Margo misunderstood and we were ready by 8:00.
Breakfast was planned in Georgetown, about half an hour away. I kind of wanted to get out of Black Hawk and into one of the mountain towns. Idaho Springs was closest, but I had seen something on Google Maps about a place called MountainBuzz, a café in downtown Georgetown. It had good reviews and sounded like a nice place for the morning meal
It turned out to be kind of a local hole in the wall. That is not a dig. It was laid back and the guy behind the counter was kind of going through the motions. The tip I left on the receipt at the counter improved his mood. Both Margo and I ordered the Buzz Special, which was scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. We both had coffee, which was pretty good. It was a pleasant meal, and we were soon on our way.
Reaching Durango was our goal. Our secondary goal was reaching Durango by 5:50, so we could get our Mesa Verde tour tickets. We wanted to take the ranger lead Cliff Palace tour. But, you can’t buy them on line, and you can’t by them more than two days in advance. You have to buy them in person, and you can only buy them in a handful of locations. One of those was at the Durango Welcome Center, which closes at 6 PM. With a 5 ½ hour drive, plus breaks, and us on the road from Georgetown by 9:45, it looked like we had about 1 ½ hours to spare.
We left I-70 at Copper Mountain, and took Highway 91 towards Leadville. About 5-10 miles into that journey we saw a CDOT (Colorado Department of Transportation) sign that flashed a message “Auto Accident 11 miles ahead. Expect Delays” We had forgot to pack maps and were relying strictly on GPS. As such, I couldn’t come up with a reroute. Even if we had, reroutes in the mountains often require hours not minutes. So we soldiered on.
Breakfast was planned in Georgetown, about half an hour away. I kind of wanted to get out of Black Hawk and into one of the mountain towns. Idaho Springs was closest, but I had seen something on Google Maps about a place called MountainBuzz, a café in downtown Georgetown. It had good reviews and sounded like a nice place for the morning meal
It turned out to be kind of a local hole in the wall. That is not a dig. It was laid back and the guy behind the counter was kind of going through the motions. The tip I left on the receipt at the counter improved his mood. Both Margo and I ordered the Buzz Special, which was scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. We both had coffee, which was pretty good. It was a pleasant meal, and we were soon on our way.
Reaching Durango was our goal. Our secondary goal was reaching Durango by 5:50, so we could get our Mesa Verde tour tickets. We wanted to take the ranger lead Cliff Palace tour. But, you can’t buy them on line, and you can’t by them more than two days in advance. You have to buy them in person, and you can only buy them in a handful of locations. One of those was at the Durango Welcome Center, which closes at 6 PM. With a 5 ½ hour drive, plus breaks, and us on the road from Georgetown by 9:45, it looked like we had about 1 ½ hours to spare.
We left I-70 at Copper Mountain, and took Highway 91 towards Leadville. About 5-10 miles into that journey we saw a CDOT (Colorado Department of Transportation) sign that flashed a message “Auto Accident 11 miles ahead. Expect Delays” We had forgot to pack maps and were relying strictly on GPS. As such, I couldn’t come up with a reroute. Even if we had, reroutes in the mountains often require hours not minutes. So we soldiered on.
As advertised, in about 15 minutes we came upon a traffic stoppage. This is a two lane highway. Very little was coming from the opposite direction, and we were not moving. We ended up sitting there for somewhere around an hour. This was not good. My blood pressure medicine is a diuretic. My diabetic medicine seems to act similarly. I always seem thirsty and drink a lot of water. This does my bladder no good. I usually need to go every couple of hours. Like I said, not good.
When traffic opened up there was tons of traffic in front of us and a lot behind of us. The next town was Leadville and every one in that line of traffic had the same idea I did. We stopped at Safeway and there was a line. So we went over to the TruValue Hardware, next door. They also had a line, but it was a little smaller. All lines were growing, so I just have suffered. This is going to be problem on all future road trips.
We were down, according to the GPS with just 20 minutes margin for error, getting to the Durango Welcome center, plus we still need to stop for lunch, and a minimum of one restroom break. We were about 30% into the trip, so I was not hopeful. I’ll spare you the blow by blow of the Margo and my version the Amazing Race. We made it with ten minutes to spare. We ended up skipping lunch and just snacking the whole trip. We made a couple of quick stops on the way and saw a lot of mountain scenery.
When traffic opened up there was tons of traffic in front of us and a lot behind of us. The next town was Leadville and every one in that line of traffic had the same idea I did. We stopped at Safeway and there was a line. So we went over to the TruValue Hardware, next door. They also had a line, but it was a little smaller. All lines were growing, so I just have suffered. This is going to be problem on all future road trips.
We were down, according to the GPS with just 20 minutes margin for error, getting to the Durango Welcome center, plus we still need to stop for lunch, and a minimum of one restroom break. We were about 30% into the trip, so I was not hopeful. I’ll spare you the blow by blow of the Margo and my version the Amazing Race. We made it with ten minutes to spare. We ended up skipping lunch and just snacking the whole trip. We made a couple of quick stops on the way and saw a lot of mountain scenery.
After that it was a short drive to the Durango Best Western and check in. Our room was not as nice as the one we left, but still more than adequate. Margo and I like separate beds when we travel now. At home we each have our own blankets and it works. Hotel beds are not set up that way, so we always have to request an extra blanket. Separate beds are just more efficient. This room had the expected two queens.
We had Mexican food at San Marcos, next door. I had street tacos. I order three, thinking they would be like the ones back home. They were smaller. I should have ordered five. But, they were very good. We went back to the hotel, and I worked a bit on this letter. We were in bed by 9:30. We were tired and had an early morning. Tomorrow we would be riding the Durango-Silverton.
We had Mexican food at San Marcos, next door. I had street tacos. I order three, thinking they would be like the ones back home. They were smaller. I should have ordered five. But, they were very good. We went back to the hotel, and I worked a bit on this letter. We were in bed by 9:30. We were tired and had an early morning. Tomorrow we would be riding the Durango-Silverton.
Day Three--Saturday, August 10, 2019
Day Three---Saturday, August 10, 2019—Durango, CO
Today our whole day is going to be spent riding the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. It started out as a freight line to haul silver ore out of Silverton, down to the main line in Durango. Now it is privately owned and is mostly just for tourists.
Anyway, I was up at 6:15 AM and Margo even earlier. We were staying at the Best Western Durango, about 4 minutes from the train depot. Our hotel offered a hot breakfast, but not an elevator. Stuck on the second floor made for a lot of trips to the car, as our cooler was too heavy for me to lug up a flight of stairs. The breakfast was good, with biscuits and gravy, sausage, and scrambled eggs. For a hotel breakfast, it was a nice spread.
Our plan was to be at the depot well in advance so we could do our souvenir shopping early, put that in the car, and then have our hands free while on the train. It was only about a 4 minute drive to the depot, and we had to pay $8 to park. I considered this both an annoyance and cheap. Annoyed because I had not planned for.
15 minutes and $135 later we were souvenir saturated and that portion of our plan was done. I took a few pictures outside and later cursed when I saw that they were not in focus. I would blame myself, if not for autofocus and much better ones later. I think the position of the sun or something was affecting the infrared focuser. Still bad pictures are better than no pictures.
The 100 year old steam engine, pulling even older cars, left promptly at 8:45. It always warms my heart when things happen on schedule. I get tired of being on time and then waiting on the rude, self-important, fashionably late, or just ignorant who wander in when the feel like it. I also give myself a modicum of credit for only now wishing that someone, falling in the categories enumerated above, watched their train pull out.
Margo and I were both excited about this trip. We had ridden this train back in 1997, and we had no idea what would have changed. In a nutshell, nothing. They had more rider options, including the one we took. Our trip was being narrated by a long time employee, and area historian. Honestly, this was the best guided tour we had ever taken. On both the trip up and the trip back, he talked nearly nonstop, telling us about what we were seeing, and entertained questions as well.
We saw a lot of pretty scenery, as Leo narrated the trip. For me the best part of the trip was when we went over the Highline Cut. This is a point that makes a horseshoe bend turn, on the side of the mountain, 400 feet about the San Animas river. It is quite striking to look down and see the river far below, with you seemingly perched precariously on the edge, and then watch the locomotive come into view.
We made a number of stops both scheduled and unscheduled. As part of the company’s agreement with the Forest Service, The DSNGRR has several “Flag Stops”. These are points on the route where the train is required to stop and pick up passengers, if the train is flagged down. Once you are past Rockwood, which is about an hour into the three hour journey, there are no roads. Access is via the train, trail, or helicopter. There are hikers, kayakers, and other outdoorsman who will buy a ticket on be transported to a point on the route and then will meet the train at one of these flag stops for their ride back. It was a little intimidating knowing that you are really on your own once you step off that train.
Our halfway point on this trip was Silverton, CO. This is a mining town that was established in 1874. Then it was very isolated, with access by horseback or wagon. With large silver deposits up there, a need for a rail line was evident. It is not profitable to mine ore and then have it hauled by wagon. You need to move large quantities at a time to be profitable. That means a train. So, train tracks were laid to a point south of Silverton, as a starting point for the rail to Silverton. This was in 1880, and that point was to become Durango, CO. Incredibly in only nine months the tracks were laid through the rugged San Juan mountains from Durango to Silverton.
You don’t get to spend a great deal of time in Silverton, before the ride back. We arrived around 12:30 and our train left promptly at 3:00 PM. In our pitstop, we had lunch at the Brown Bear Café.
It seemed like this whole trip, restrooms were compact, single-holers, and came restaged with people to wait behind. The Brown Bear was the first of many. Margo became friends with her line mates, finding out one lady was celebrating her 60th birthday. We joined in with the rest of the establishment, wishing her a happy birthday, in the time tested verse. She must have been known by a variety of names or titles in her 60 years, as we could not make out her name when the placeholder was reached. Oh, well. Lunch was good. I had a very nice hamburger.
We did a little shopping, browsing more like it. We only had about 30 minutes or so after eating, before our staging time of 2:45 PM. I was all for testing the deadline by arriving at 2:50, but Margo was adamant. I think I got a magnet for Mary and a Harley Davidson Poker Chip from the highest Harley shop in the world; 9318 feet. We did no running in Silverton.
As before, we left exactly on time, leaving Silverton seconds after the sweep hand (if I had a sweep hand on my digital watch) past 3 o’clock. We had seen many sights on the way up, but as our narrator had me enthralled a lot of the time, I often missed seeing, or at least taking a picture of what he described. He really was a good story teller.
Several of the sights I was awaiting was the Tacoma Powerplant, named because the crates in which the equipment arrived in were actually meant for Tacoma, WA. We were told this was an automated plant, taking Animas River power and turning it into electricity.
There had been a major avalanche in the spring of this year. It buried the tracks in 600 feet of snow, and damming up the river until Mother Nature could undercut the snowbank. Mother Nature did not care if the railroad operated so the DSNGRR was left up to their own devices. They had a pair of bulldozers and a back hoe to dig the tracks out. When we went past that slide area, there was still, 4 plus months later, debris filled snow piled above the tracks. These looked to be at least 6 feet tall and was piled back several yards. It did not look like it would melt before the weather turned ugly again.
The line had also seen a massive flood in September of1970. Leo showed us pictures of the damaged caused, in the form of undercut and washed out rail beds. Nearly 40 years later you could still see rails that had been discarded, when replaced. They lost over 2 miles of rail and were closed down for the rest of the season.
There was the old Detroit mine. You could see the wooden tipple, but what was most impressive was the steep drop off, from the highway hundreds of feet above. About a third of the way down from the highway there was a car sitting in the rocks. Someone pointed that out to our guide, and he said “That’s one that didn’t make it”. The guys near him chuckled. Leo replies that he was not joking. Someone had driven off the highway. The car was never recovered. No word on if the driver survived.
I can remember when we took this same trip back in 1997. It got to be a little boring. But, because of our guide the time flew by. I enjoyed it so much, that as soon as we got back to Durango (6:45 PM), I thanked him and gave him a $20 tip. That was the honestly the best narration and story telling I have ever heard. It was a great trip and I would love to do it again. Maybe one-way next time, and find a way to linger in Silverton.
We were staying in Cortez for the night, as it was closer to Mesa Verde and cheaper. It’s kind of a hassle to change hotels every night, but with time and money always your two biggest commodities, you save them where you can. It was a 45 minute drive to the Holiday Inn Express in Cortez. We arrived and I went in to check us in. It was 7:30 and we were both hungry, so we just wanted to make sure we had a room. There was a line so it took my about 10 minutes to get our room key.
I went back outside with the key and a 5% off coupon for the restaurant across the parking lot. We drove over there and parked. They had a menu posted and I was in the mood for a steak. Margo thought she could find something, so we asked to be seated outside.
It was a gorgeous evening. The restaurant was called the Destination Grille. The outside seating basically faced Highway 160 with a view north. So we did not get to see the best part of the sunset. But there was still plenty of color. The weather was perfect and the mosquitos were looking elsewhere for prey. I enjoyed my steak even though it was cooked medium instead of medium-rare, and came with not quite melted garlic butter. We proceeded at a leisurely pace, and it was really nice just to kick back and relax of a few minutes.
The Holiday Inn Express that we stayed at did have an elevator. I used it at leash half a dozen times before settling in to write this story. But, not right way. We had only gone up just to check on the room to make sure it was what we had requested. It was exactly what we requested and were both happy. But, we figured before we started bringing up our stuff we should go get ice.
We had brought one the grey coolers that we had just used for the family reunion. That was a mistake, as it was way too heavy to haul around, even with wheels. Just getting it in and out of the backseat was an issue. Next time, maybe two smaller coolers. We topped the tank off at a Speedway convenience store, which was practically next door, and got 20 pounds of ice. It should have been 30. Then we drove back to the hotel. It was 9:30 and we were finally bringing things up for the night. By 11 AM we were in bed. Tomorrow would be another early start.
Today our whole day is going to be spent riding the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. It started out as a freight line to haul silver ore out of Silverton, down to the main line in Durango. Now it is privately owned and is mostly just for tourists.
Anyway, I was up at 6:15 AM and Margo even earlier. We were staying at the Best Western Durango, about 4 minutes from the train depot. Our hotel offered a hot breakfast, but not an elevator. Stuck on the second floor made for a lot of trips to the car, as our cooler was too heavy for me to lug up a flight of stairs. The breakfast was good, with biscuits and gravy, sausage, and scrambled eggs. For a hotel breakfast, it was a nice spread.
Our plan was to be at the depot well in advance so we could do our souvenir shopping early, put that in the car, and then have our hands free while on the train. It was only about a 4 minute drive to the depot, and we had to pay $8 to park. I considered this both an annoyance and cheap. Annoyed because I had not planned for.
15 minutes and $135 later we were souvenir saturated and that portion of our plan was done. I took a few pictures outside and later cursed when I saw that they were not in focus. I would blame myself, if not for autofocus and much better ones later. I think the position of the sun or something was affecting the infrared focuser. Still bad pictures are better than no pictures.
The 100 year old steam engine, pulling even older cars, left promptly at 8:45. It always warms my heart when things happen on schedule. I get tired of being on time and then waiting on the rude, self-important, fashionably late, or just ignorant who wander in when the feel like it. I also give myself a modicum of credit for only now wishing that someone, falling in the categories enumerated above, watched their train pull out.
Margo and I were both excited about this trip. We had ridden this train back in 1997, and we had no idea what would have changed. In a nutshell, nothing. They had more rider options, including the one we took. Our trip was being narrated by a long time employee, and area historian. Honestly, this was the best guided tour we had ever taken. On both the trip up and the trip back, he talked nearly nonstop, telling us about what we were seeing, and entertained questions as well.
We saw a lot of pretty scenery, as Leo narrated the trip. For me the best part of the trip was when we went over the Highline Cut. This is a point that makes a horseshoe bend turn, on the side of the mountain, 400 feet about the San Animas river. It is quite striking to look down and see the river far below, with you seemingly perched precariously on the edge, and then watch the locomotive come into view.
We made a number of stops both scheduled and unscheduled. As part of the company’s agreement with the Forest Service, The DSNGRR has several “Flag Stops”. These are points on the route where the train is required to stop and pick up passengers, if the train is flagged down. Once you are past Rockwood, which is about an hour into the three hour journey, there are no roads. Access is via the train, trail, or helicopter. There are hikers, kayakers, and other outdoorsman who will buy a ticket on be transported to a point on the route and then will meet the train at one of these flag stops for their ride back. It was a little intimidating knowing that you are really on your own once you step off that train.
Our halfway point on this trip was Silverton, CO. This is a mining town that was established in 1874. Then it was very isolated, with access by horseback or wagon. With large silver deposits up there, a need for a rail line was evident. It is not profitable to mine ore and then have it hauled by wagon. You need to move large quantities at a time to be profitable. That means a train. So, train tracks were laid to a point south of Silverton, as a starting point for the rail to Silverton. This was in 1880, and that point was to become Durango, CO. Incredibly in only nine months the tracks were laid through the rugged San Juan mountains from Durango to Silverton.
You don’t get to spend a great deal of time in Silverton, before the ride back. We arrived around 12:30 and our train left promptly at 3:00 PM. In our pitstop, we had lunch at the Brown Bear Café.
It seemed like this whole trip, restrooms were compact, single-holers, and came restaged with people to wait behind. The Brown Bear was the first of many. Margo became friends with her line mates, finding out one lady was celebrating her 60th birthday. We joined in with the rest of the establishment, wishing her a happy birthday, in the time tested verse. She must have been known by a variety of names or titles in her 60 years, as we could not make out her name when the placeholder was reached. Oh, well. Lunch was good. I had a very nice hamburger.
We did a little shopping, browsing more like it. We only had about 30 minutes or so after eating, before our staging time of 2:45 PM. I was all for testing the deadline by arriving at 2:50, but Margo was adamant. I think I got a magnet for Mary and a Harley Davidson Poker Chip from the highest Harley shop in the world; 9318 feet. We did no running in Silverton.
As before, we left exactly on time, leaving Silverton seconds after the sweep hand (if I had a sweep hand on my digital watch) past 3 o’clock. We had seen many sights on the way up, but as our narrator had me enthralled a lot of the time, I often missed seeing, or at least taking a picture of what he described. He really was a good story teller.
Several of the sights I was awaiting was the Tacoma Powerplant, named because the crates in which the equipment arrived in were actually meant for Tacoma, WA. We were told this was an automated plant, taking Animas River power and turning it into electricity.
There had been a major avalanche in the spring of this year. It buried the tracks in 600 feet of snow, and damming up the river until Mother Nature could undercut the snowbank. Mother Nature did not care if the railroad operated so the DSNGRR was left up to their own devices. They had a pair of bulldozers and a back hoe to dig the tracks out. When we went past that slide area, there was still, 4 plus months later, debris filled snow piled above the tracks. These looked to be at least 6 feet tall and was piled back several yards. It did not look like it would melt before the weather turned ugly again.
The line had also seen a massive flood in September of1970. Leo showed us pictures of the damaged caused, in the form of undercut and washed out rail beds. Nearly 40 years later you could still see rails that had been discarded, when replaced. They lost over 2 miles of rail and were closed down for the rest of the season.
There was the old Detroit mine. You could see the wooden tipple, but what was most impressive was the steep drop off, from the highway hundreds of feet above. About a third of the way down from the highway there was a car sitting in the rocks. Someone pointed that out to our guide, and he said “That’s one that didn’t make it”. The guys near him chuckled. Leo replies that he was not joking. Someone had driven off the highway. The car was never recovered. No word on if the driver survived.
I can remember when we took this same trip back in 1997. It got to be a little boring. But, because of our guide the time flew by. I enjoyed it so much, that as soon as we got back to Durango (6:45 PM), I thanked him and gave him a $20 tip. That was the honestly the best narration and story telling I have ever heard. It was a great trip and I would love to do it again. Maybe one-way next time, and find a way to linger in Silverton.
We were staying in Cortez for the night, as it was closer to Mesa Verde and cheaper. It’s kind of a hassle to change hotels every night, but with time and money always your two biggest commodities, you save them where you can. It was a 45 minute drive to the Holiday Inn Express in Cortez. We arrived and I went in to check us in. It was 7:30 and we were both hungry, so we just wanted to make sure we had a room. There was a line so it took my about 10 minutes to get our room key.
I went back outside with the key and a 5% off coupon for the restaurant across the parking lot. We drove over there and parked. They had a menu posted and I was in the mood for a steak. Margo thought she could find something, so we asked to be seated outside.
It was a gorgeous evening. The restaurant was called the Destination Grille. The outside seating basically faced Highway 160 with a view north. So we did not get to see the best part of the sunset. But there was still plenty of color. The weather was perfect and the mosquitos were looking elsewhere for prey. I enjoyed my steak even though it was cooked medium instead of medium-rare, and came with not quite melted garlic butter. We proceeded at a leisurely pace, and it was really nice just to kick back and relax of a few minutes.
The Holiday Inn Express that we stayed at did have an elevator. I used it at leash half a dozen times before settling in to write this story. But, not right way. We had only gone up just to check on the room to make sure it was what we had requested. It was exactly what we requested and were both happy. But, we figured before we started bringing up our stuff we should go get ice.
We had brought one the grey coolers that we had just used for the family reunion. That was a mistake, as it was way too heavy to haul around, even with wheels. Just getting it in and out of the backseat was an issue. Next time, maybe two smaller coolers. We topped the tank off at a Speedway convenience store, which was practically next door, and got 20 pounds of ice. It should have been 30. Then we drove back to the hotel. It was 9:30 and we were finally bringing things up for the night. By 11 AM we were in bed. Tomorrow would be another early start.
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Day Four--Sunday, August 11, 2019
Day Four---Sunday, August 11, 2019
We were up at 5:45 AM to begin our day. We had to be at the Cliff Palace parking area of Mesa Verde by 8:45 AM. It was about a 15 minute drive to the entrance to the national park, and then another hour to the southern most point of the park which was home to Cliff Palace, the largest of the Ancient Puebloan dwellings.
When I was growing up the people that inhabited this area were called the Anasazi. This is a Navajo word, which means Ancient Enemy. The current Pueblo Indians, in which these people are their ancestors, don’t like this word. They prefer Ancient Puebloans, so terminology has changed.
Anyway, we ate breakfast at the hotel. This Holiday Inn Express put out quite a spread, with scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy, sausage, waffles, and country potatoes. This along with the traditional cold fare, cereal, fruit, yogurt, pastries, and such. Most places don’t have hot food, other than maybe a waffle maker. We left full and ready to start our day. Great hotel, overall.
We made a quick detour and got another bag of ice for the cooler, and we were on our way by 7 AM. It was supposed to take us an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Cliff Palace, but it was more like an hour. We stopped at the Mancos Valley Overlook, because I noticed we were well ahead of schedule, and it looked like it would be an excellent view.
Mancos Valley was surprising to me because somehow I assumed that the cliff dwellings were pretty much it for the park. But, as I was to discover, there was a seemingly endless supply of grand views of a valley. The Mancos (Spanish for “sleeve”) was named for the river and town which occupied it. Mancos served as the Mesa Verde park headquarters from 1906 (inception) to 1920.
As we were supposed to at the southern end of the park, and we had barely entered the northern end, we got back in our rented Kia Soul, and kept going. As expected when we left the Mancos overlook, we arrived way early. I guess the hour drive which was mentioned to me when I bought the tickets took into consideration, park traffic. There was almost none.
The Cliff Palace Overlook, also serves as the entrance to Cliff Palace itself. I would be concerning myself with this part later, but right now Margo and I walked down an asphalt paved, 100 yard path, which dropped in elevation about at least 30 feet. The view was very good, and is where the majority of pictures you see of the ruins are taken.
But, when we walked back up, Margo’s back hurt so much she was in tears. She has been having issues with her back cramping and spasming. Who knows what is causing it? But, the net result of the walk was she knew that she had no hope of making the ascent back up, after looking at far down (over 100 feet) we would be traveling. I rubbed some of her menthol based cream on her lower back, and she volunteered to wait in the car and read or work a word puzzle on her phone.
Our Ranger arrived a little late, much to my annoyance. He was a bearded 20-something, dressed the part. As he began to talk, I could feel my eyes start to roll back into my head. He began with the expected safety briefing, and the Do Not Touch part of his briefing. I was expecting this and was fine with it. Then be back with the history of the area. I was looking forward to this, as there were many gaps in my knowledge. But his style was to continually ask the gathered, ticketed, crowd questions, concerning their guesses as to what was going on, what they did, and what happened. Things like “What effect did becoming farmers, rather than Hunter/Gathers have on the Ancient Puebloans”. I offered “It stabilized them”, meaning they now stayed in one spot. He more or less acknowledged that as correct, but as the questions continued, he would more just repeat the answer given, like he was cataloging it, and then continue with his story, leaving his narrative to tell you who was most correct. Maybe that is the style used in classrooms today. I was looking for him to say, “Correct”, or “Good Guess”, or maybe, “Almost”. It became annoying, like he was afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings.
He talked for 10-15 minutes, which as we were starting late, made me wonder how much time we would have to look around and learn about the place. But, we finally began with our descent into the canyon.
Now I had read about the many steps and ladders required to get down to the bottom, but I more or less assumed that these were modern stairs, which after a century of being a park had been installed for the convenience of the visitor. This was not the case. These were the centuries old steps that the ancients had carved themselves. I was impressed. While these were far from uniform, and twisted around, often through a tight space, the amount of effort and time it took to carve these was amazing. The single ladder that we used was made to look period based. But is was sturdy, sanded and finished in a lacquer of something so it would not rot. I liked it.
We staged down at the bottom and waited for the rest of your 30ish count group to arrive. The dwelling was as impressive at the bottom as, at the overlook. The difference being as that at the bottom you got a feeling for the amount of time these people spent building this. From a distance, you are awed by the size of the place. At the bottom, you start to count bricks and stones. You notice all the windows. You see the detail of the Kivas. The functionality of the place becomes more evident, as you take in the inclined paths and towers that take you to the roof of the complex. While it did not have the grandeur of looking at the Grand Canyon (and what else does), it did give you a lot of respect for a people that had left the area more than 700 years ago.
The ranger did manage to annoy me a little further. Instead of beginning his talk. He had us sit, in silence, for about 5 minutes, contemplating what it must have been like to live there 700 or 800 years ago. I felt like saying, “Dude, I’m here because I want you to tell me what it was like 700 or 800 years ago. But, I didn’t. I took pictures and lot of my tour mates either did that or shuffled around after about a minute.
We were told that construction took about 70 years, between 1190 AD and 1260 AD. (sorry, I don’t do CE). The people actually lived in the area for 500 years prior, but the dwelling did not become into being, until much later. Because trees were used in Cliff Palace’s construction (along with sandstone and mortar), the tree rings provided dating. It was abandoned around 1300. The working theory is that the people had been though a long series of drought years (climate changed. All of the damn automobiles, no doubt) and they moved south to Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah. They likely followed the Mancos River, to the San Juan River, and then to the Colorado River. Makes you wonder how bad it was, if this was the better alternative.
We were up at 5:45 AM to begin our day. We had to be at the Cliff Palace parking area of Mesa Verde by 8:45 AM. It was about a 15 minute drive to the entrance to the national park, and then another hour to the southern most point of the park which was home to Cliff Palace, the largest of the Ancient Puebloan dwellings.
When I was growing up the people that inhabited this area were called the Anasazi. This is a Navajo word, which means Ancient Enemy. The current Pueblo Indians, in which these people are their ancestors, don’t like this word. They prefer Ancient Puebloans, so terminology has changed.
Anyway, we ate breakfast at the hotel. This Holiday Inn Express put out quite a spread, with scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy, sausage, waffles, and country potatoes. This along with the traditional cold fare, cereal, fruit, yogurt, pastries, and such. Most places don’t have hot food, other than maybe a waffle maker. We left full and ready to start our day. Great hotel, overall.
We made a quick detour and got another bag of ice for the cooler, and we were on our way by 7 AM. It was supposed to take us an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Cliff Palace, but it was more like an hour. We stopped at the Mancos Valley Overlook, because I noticed we were well ahead of schedule, and it looked like it would be an excellent view.
Mancos Valley was surprising to me because somehow I assumed that the cliff dwellings were pretty much it for the park. But, as I was to discover, there was a seemingly endless supply of grand views of a valley. The Mancos (Spanish for “sleeve”) was named for the river and town which occupied it. Mancos served as the Mesa Verde park headquarters from 1906 (inception) to 1920.
As we were supposed to at the southern end of the park, and we had barely entered the northern end, we got back in our rented Kia Soul, and kept going. As expected when we left the Mancos overlook, we arrived way early. I guess the hour drive which was mentioned to me when I bought the tickets took into consideration, park traffic. There was almost none.
The Cliff Palace Overlook, also serves as the entrance to Cliff Palace itself. I would be concerning myself with this part later, but right now Margo and I walked down an asphalt paved, 100 yard path, which dropped in elevation about at least 30 feet. The view was very good, and is where the majority of pictures you see of the ruins are taken.
But, when we walked back up, Margo’s back hurt so much she was in tears. She has been having issues with her back cramping and spasming. Who knows what is causing it? But, the net result of the walk was she knew that she had no hope of making the ascent back up, after looking at far down (over 100 feet) we would be traveling. I rubbed some of her menthol based cream on her lower back, and she volunteered to wait in the car and read or work a word puzzle on her phone.
Our Ranger arrived a little late, much to my annoyance. He was a bearded 20-something, dressed the part. As he began to talk, I could feel my eyes start to roll back into my head. He began with the expected safety briefing, and the Do Not Touch part of his briefing. I was expecting this and was fine with it. Then be back with the history of the area. I was looking forward to this, as there were many gaps in my knowledge. But his style was to continually ask the gathered, ticketed, crowd questions, concerning their guesses as to what was going on, what they did, and what happened. Things like “What effect did becoming farmers, rather than Hunter/Gathers have on the Ancient Puebloans”. I offered “It stabilized them”, meaning they now stayed in one spot. He more or less acknowledged that as correct, but as the questions continued, he would more just repeat the answer given, like he was cataloging it, and then continue with his story, leaving his narrative to tell you who was most correct. Maybe that is the style used in classrooms today. I was looking for him to say, “Correct”, or “Good Guess”, or maybe, “Almost”. It became annoying, like he was afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings.
He talked for 10-15 minutes, which as we were starting late, made me wonder how much time we would have to look around and learn about the place. But, we finally began with our descent into the canyon.
Now I had read about the many steps and ladders required to get down to the bottom, but I more or less assumed that these were modern stairs, which after a century of being a park had been installed for the convenience of the visitor. This was not the case. These were the centuries old steps that the ancients had carved themselves. I was impressed. While these were far from uniform, and twisted around, often through a tight space, the amount of effort and time it took to carve these was amazing. The single ladder that we used was made to look period based. But is was sturdy, sanded and finished in a lacquer of something so it would not rot. I liked it.
We staged down at the bottom and waited for the rest of your 30ish count group to arrive. The dwelling was as impressive at the bottom as, at the overlook. The difference being as that at the bottom you got a feeling for the amount of time these people spent building this. From a distance, you are awed by the size of the place. At the bottom, you start to count bricks and stones. You notice all the windows. You see the detail of the Kivas. The functionality of the place becomes more evident, as you take in the inclined paths and towers that take you to the roof of the complex. While it did not have the grandeur of looking at the Grand Canyon (and what else does), it did give you a lot of respect for a people that had left the area more than 700 years ago.
The ranger did manage to annoy me a little further. Instead of beginning his talk. He had us sit, in silence, for about 5 minutes, contemplating what it must have been like to live there 700 or 800 years ago. I felt like saying, “Dude, I’m here because I want you to tell me what it was like 700 or 800 years ago. But, I didn’t. I took pictures and lot of my tour mates either did that or shuffled around after about a minute.
We were told that construction took about 70 years, between 1190 AD and 1260 AD. (sorry, I don’t do CE). The people actually lived in the area for 500 years prior, but the dwelling did not become into being, until much later. Because trees were used in Cliff Palace’s construction (along with sandstone and mortar), the tree rings provided dating. It was abandoned around 1300. The working theory is that the people had been though a long series of drought years (climate changed. All of the damn automobiles, no doubt) and they moved south to Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah. They likely followed the Mancos River, to the San Juan River, and then to the Colorado River. Makes you wonder how bad it was, if this was the better alternative.
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The ranger told us that Cliff Palace was the largest of the Mesa Verde cliff dwellings, and had room for about 150 people. There are over 600 cliff dwellings in Mesa Verde. The vast majority are small. In Cliff Palace some of the people lived in what now look like a pit. These were called Kivas But, in truth, these were covered with a roof, which I think he said was made out of mud and something (Straw?). You entered via a ladder through a hole in the roof. The ladder also served as a chimney. Other features of the kiva included built in storage spaces in the walls, a fire pit, a flat, upright, stone deflector behind the pit, and an air intake, which would feed the fire from the outside. They had a basic understanding of what it took to keep a fire alive. Maybe these weren’t living quarters, but more like community centers where they gathered for religious ceremonies or community meetings. I was admiring how they were built when the ranger was discussing this.
We did not get to spend a great deal of time there. By the time he was explaining kivas, we could see the next tour gathering, so we moved along. In truth, I had to go to bathroom anyway, and I wanted to get at least one picture of the exit stairs, before anyone was on them. I had snapped my share of pictures, and with everyone spreading out, looking at one thing or another, and very little in the form of interpretive displays, I had learned all I was going to. I moved on.
Getting out was worse than getting in. Gravity was at least an ally about 30 minutes ago. Now gravity was a demon trying to claw you back into time. Or maybe the lack of air was making me melodramatic. There were narrow, uneven stairs, or wide uneven stairs, both of which eventually got you to two ladders separated by another small group of stairs. By the time I had cleared both ladders, taking a picture was a good reason to stop and see if I could find some oxygen and take one of the recommended water breaks.
I had fully caught my breath by the time I found Margo. She was kicked back enjoying a game and did not seem to have missed me. I told her she would have hated those stairs and ladders and that her back was smart to make her stay in the car.
Our plan now was to drive the Mesa Top Loop Road. This would take us to several overlooks where we could see some of the other major cliff dwellings. I think there are only four that you could have ever visited up close, and one of those is closed due to unstable rocks. They wouldn’t want to kill a tourist. The other three are like Cliff Palace, in that you have to have a tour ticket. I was told that Cliff Palace was the easiest to climb in and out of.
We made several stops, seeing The House of Many Windows, which was clear across the canyon. You needed a decent zoom on your camera to see anything. Then the Hemenway House, which we really couldn’t see at all. The information sign was faded and just did not help.
On our way to Pithouse, we came across one of many burn areas. We were told by a ranger that 80% of Mesa Verde has burned in fires, in the last 20 years. These fires were caused by lightening, by the trees that burned up did not care how the fire started. The trees did not burn down to ash. They were darkened tree skeletons, which made for an eerie looking, thin ghost forest. The ground cover come back much faster than the trees, so that made it look both better and worse.
The Pithouse is an archeological site, but it in actually it an excavated and restored pit/kiva/pithouse. To call it a pit is to really do it an injustice, because it is far from just a hole in the ground. This is not an open air site, at least not now. The interpretive signs did not tell us the post occupation history of the site. But, it did tell us that this now enclosed, restored (somewhat), and protected site was occupied about the year 600 AD, some 700 years before the cliff dwellings. They had an artist rendering of what it may have looked like in its heyday, which helped a great deal. Looking at it now it resembles the works of a group of 10 year old boys’ attempt to make a fort, before Mom called them home for dinner. The fact that is really the remnants of a family’s home that lived 1400 years ago, in the Colorado desert, lends a degree of credibility to the abilities and practically of the “pit”
Back in the car, and we next stopped at Navajo Canyon Overlook, another impressive canyon, which looked like it belonged in another national park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Very picturesque. Next was Square Tower. This is a dwelling with a large tower as its defining feature. It is not visitor accessible, because you basically need to have rock climbing skills to get there, but it photographs pretty well.
Next up, at least for us, on this loop road, was Sun Point View. This has a commanding few of Fewkes Canyon and several more cliff dwellings. I continued to marvel at how these people would take one of the alcoves, overhangs in the canyons, and contour the construction to make something that used the space, was practical, and really looked good, too. I was like Frank Lloyd Wright, in that the buildings not only had function, but the form was pleasurable, too.
The tail end of Mesa Top Loop Road was Spruce Tree House. This overlook is significant as it is one of two places in the park where you can get something to eat. One side of the road has the restaurant and gift shop. On the other is a museum and the overlook. We were hungry, so seeing the 3rd largest dwelling would have to wait.
We ate, bought some souvenirs, including a small pot, hand made by a modern Navajo Indian. Then Margo and I walked across to see Spruce House. To be honest, by this time, it was hard to be wowed by another dwelling. Especially, when you had to continually view them from a distance. Spruce House used to be open to self-guided tours, but the alcove has developed cracks and there have been rock falls. So it is closed to anything except viewing from a quarter of a mile away. Balcony House, which we would not see, is the only other dwelling which you can get close to.
It was time to head out. We were still deep in the southern end of the park, so we were going to make a couple more stops. We managed to spend a few minutes in the museum I mentioned, Chapin Mesa Archeological Museum, which had a burn area map. It was not up to date, as I know they had a fire last year or the year before. But, it seemed to be like clockwork, every ten years or so, part of the park would have a serious fire.
We stopped next at Park Point Fire Tower Lookout. I think this is the highest point in the park. You drive to a parking lot, then hike an asphalt trail. A sign tells you are 8572 feet above sea level, and a Geological Survey marker near the enclosed Fire Tower confirms it. Margo declined to make the trek. She was not interested in putting more strain on her back or knees. I was not going to be deterred. Black Hawk is about 8000 feet above sea level, so I did not think the altitude was a big problem. I needed a break when I got to the top, but it was a several hundred foot hike uphill. The view was the best in the park for my money. I was glad I made the effort. You had commanding views of the whole area, which is why there is a fire tower up there. It used to spot fires. It did not look like it was not manned at that moment, but a sign suggested it should be.
I did not stay a long time, as Margo was downhill, and these kinds of things are meant to be shared with someone. Enjoying them alone is a little selfish, and something suggesting unfulfilling, when viewed alone. With one more look around, and several pictures, which will never do the view justice, taken, I made the much easier descent to the parking area.
It wasn’t very long before we reached our last overlook and physical feature of the park, Montezuma Valley overlook. This was another grand vista, with the additional lineament of a dead pinon pine tree, whose skeleton begged to be photographed. It stood guarding the overlook, adding a reminder that this was a place that could kill you if you were not careful and prepared.
There was not much walking to get to this overlook so Margo happily joined me, and we clicked a few pictures while pondering the valley and the tree. We had the place to ourselves, and really, done of this trip had been marred by overcrowding. When we left a few minutes later, it was with the knowledge that we likely would not see this again.
I thought we were done with Mesa Verde, at least with the exception of collecting my National Park sign, but I was wrong. I had completely forgotten about the Visitor’s Center we passed early this morning upon entry. We turned in and parked, and immediately noticed a 20 foot statue that appeared to show a monkey, with man-like proportions scaling a curved tree. The only part that made you second guess your initial conjecture was that the monkey appeared to have a basket on its back. Closer inspection revealed it to be an Ancient Puebloan, whose hanging loin cloth, looked somewhat like a tail, and who was laboring to climb a sheer cliff with a basket of maize. Tough living. I would have died.
The museum itself was okay. On room is dominated by a giant relief map of the park. Ordinarily these things are a like a magnet to me, but there were some preteens around this one, and preteens suck the joy out of anything they touch. They are loud, selfish, and oblivious. I am sure I was never that way. (The world really does need a sarcasm font). So, I just gave it a cursory look and moved on. The Gift Shop definitely has more gravity, because they always drag me in. Margo is the same. But, I think we managed to buy nothing, which should probably be marked on the calendar.
This was it for Mesa Verde. We were out on Highway 160 heading east about 5 minutes later. We had decided we were going to stay in Pagosa Springs. The idea was to cut some drive time off our trip home on Monday. We needed to get the car returned by 6:00 PM, and we really did not want to rush. We wanted a nice leisurely drive home. If we saw something we wanted to stop and take a look at, we would have time.
It is an hour and 45 minutes from the Visitor’s Center to Pagosa Springs. On the way in through Pagosa Springs, we kept trying to remember the name of the hotel we stayed at when Jolene got married. We kept driving past places saying “That looks familiar” and “I think that was it”. Then we drove past the Pagosa Inn and Suites and we both said “That’s it!”. On the way back through we didn’t even mention it.
But, our goal this time was the High Country Lodge and Cabins. I had found this doing my on line research. When I got on to TripAdvisor and looked at the reviews, one thing caught my eye. The owner was very hands on, and was not afraid to take on the bully reviewers. These are people that have a bad day and take it out on the hotel or worse behave like jackasses, and then don’t get their way. They act like spoiled children and make threats of bad reviews. They are not always easy to spot, but usually they give themselves away by describing in the second paragraph what set them off. Several of the bad ones had to do with pet owners, not following hotel rules and then not being successful in having the financial penalty removed.
When Margo and I checked in, the rules were thoroughly, although a little quickly explained. No Smoking. No Pets. They used to be pet friendly, but one rule was to keep pets off the bed and to not let them have run of the place when the owner was gone. People would whine about how good their pet was and that they did not bring a kennel, and that it was not possible to keep the dog off the bed. The owner would respond back that they had not only be told of the rules, they initialed beside the rule, and there was a fine if disobeyed. The owners claimed to have to replace the bedding many times, because it was next to impossible to get the dog hair removed. I don’t know if that was true, but I hate rule breakers, and I hate bullies. “Give me my way or else”
Two paragraphs on nothing. We liked the hotel. We got a real key. Not a key card. I can’t remember when the last time that happened. I think it was $10 or $12 to replace it if you lost it. Imagine that, a hotel assessing responsibility for irresponsible actions. I liked it. It was starting to cool down by the time we checked in, which had to be around 5 PM. Our room was homey, decorated in a western theme, with moose comforters on the beds. It was quiet, even with Highway 160 right out front. Sure there was traffic, but it was not horns blaring, cars screeching traffic. It was swoosh. Car goes by. Swoosh. Car goes by. For me it added comfort, that civilization was nearby, in an area surrounded by beautiful mountains. Nature purists will be mortified by my description, but to heck with them. Hike up into the mountains until all you hear are mosquitos, pitch a tent, you have your idea of heaven, and I have mine. This was the most relaxed I had felt in months
We had passed a place called The Junction about a mile or so, before getting to our hotel. We had no better idea, so after checking in and dumping out luggage, we headed west back to The Junction. The food was decent, although the waitress nearly talked me out of the fried chicken. She said it “looked” dry to her. I took a chance and it was fine. It wasn’t super juicy or anything, but was not dry either.
They had a nice souvenir area, and those are must see attractions for Margo and I. At the coffee mug areas we found the exact mug which Savannah had brought me when she went to Pagosa Springs, several years ago. Margo and Jackie are always using it, so Margo bought here one in a different color. Yeah!
Back to the hotel and we spent the night basically unwinding. I worked on my narrative some, but was in bed a bit before midnight.
We did not get to spend a great deal of time there. By the time he was explaining kivas, we could see the next tour gathering, so we moved along. In truth, I had to go to bathroom anyway, and I wanted to get at least one picture of the exit stairs, before anyone was on them. I had snapped my share of pictures, and with everyone spreading out, looking at one thing or another, and very little in the form of interpretive displays, I had learned all I was going to. I moved on.
Getting out was worse than getting in. Gravity was at least an ally about 30 minutes ago. Now gravity was a demon trying to claw you back into time. Or maybe the lack of air was making me melodramatic. There were narrow, uneven stairs, or wide uneven stairs, both of which eventually got you to two ladders separated by another small group of stairs. By the time I had cleared both ladders, taking a picture was a good reason to stop and see if I could find some oxygen and take one of the recommended water breaks.
I had fully caught my breath by the time I found Margo. She was kicked back enjoying a game and did not seem to have missed me. I told her she would have hated those stairs and ladders and that her back was smart to make her stay in the car.
Our plan now was to drive the Mesa Top Loop Road. This would take us to several overlooks where we could see some of the other major cliff dwellings. I think there are only four that you could have ever visited up close, and one of those is closed due to unstable rocks. They wouldn’t want to kill a tourist. The other three are like Cliff Palace, in that you have to have a tour ticket. I was told that Cliff Palace was the easiest to climb in and out of.
We made several stops, seeing The House of Many Windows, which was clear across the canyon. You needed a decent zoom on your camera to see anything. Then the Hemenway House, which we really couldn’t see at all. The information sign was faded and just did not help.
On our way to Pithouse, we came across one of many burn areas. We were told by a ranger that 80% of Mesa Verde has burned in fires, in the last 20 years. These fires were caused by lightening, by the trees that burned up did not care how the fire started. The trees did not burn down to ash. They were darkened tree skeletons, which made for an eerie looking, thin ghost forest. The ground cover come back much faster than the trees, so that made it look both better and worse.
The Pithouse is an archeological site, but it in actually it an excavated and restored pit/kiva/pithouse. To call it a pit is to really do it an injustice, because it is far from just a hole in the ground. This is not an open air site, at least not now. The interpretive signs did not tell us the post occupation history of the site. But, it did tell us that this now enclosed, restored (somewhat), and protected site was occupied about the year 600 AD, some 700 years before the cliff dwellings. They had an artist rendering of what it may have looked like in its heyday, which helped a great deal. Looking at it now it resembles the works of a group of 10 year old boys’ attempt to make a fort, before Mom called them home for dinner. The fact that is really the remnants of a family’s home that lived 1400 years ago, in the Colorado desert, lends a degree of credibility to the abilities and practically of the “pit”
Back in the car, and we next stopped at Navajo Canyon Overlook, another impressive canyon, which looked like it belonged in another national park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Very picturesque. Next was Square Tower. This is a dwelling with a large tower as its defining feature. It is not visitor accessible, because you basically need to have rock climbing skills to get there, but it photographs pretty well.
Next up, at least for us, on this loop road, was Sun Point View. This has a commanding few of Fewkes Canyon and several more cliff dwellings. I continued to marvel at how these people would take one of the alcoves, overhangs in the canyons, and contour the construction to make something that used the space, was practical, and really looked good, too. I was like Frank Lloyd Wright, in that the buildings not only had function, but the form was pleasurable, too.
The tail end of Mesa Top Loop Road was Spruce Tree House. This overlook is significant as it is one of two places in the park where you can get something to eat. One side of the road has the restaurant and gift shop. On the other is a museum and the overlook. We were hungry, so seeing the 3rd largest dwelling would have to wait.
We ate, bought some souvenirs, including a small pot, hand made by a modern Navajo Indian. Then Margo and I walked across to see Spruce House. To be honest, by this time, it was hard to be wowed by another dwelling. Especially, when you had to continually view them from a distance. Spruce House used to be open to self-guided tours, but the alcove has developed cracks and there have been rock falls. So it is closed to anything except viewing from a quarter of a mile away. Balcony House, which we would not see, is the only other dwelling which you can get close to.
It was time to head out. We were still deep in the southern end of the park, so we were going to make a couple more stops. We managed to spend a few minutes in the museum I mentioned, Chapin Mesa Archeological Museum, which had a burn area map. It was not up to date, as I know they had a fire last year or the year before. But, it seemed to be like clockwork, every ten years or so, part of the park would have a serious fire.
We stopped next at Park Point Fire Tower Lookout. I think this is the highest point in the park. You drive to a parking lot, then hike an asphalt trail. A sign tells you are 8572 feet above sea level, and a Geological Survey marker near the enclosed Fire Tower confirms it. Margo declined to make the trek. She was not interested in putting more strain on her back or knees. I was not going to be deterred. Black Hawk is about 8000 feet above sea level, so I did not think the altitude was a big problem. I needed a break when I got to the top, but it was a several hundred foot hike uphill. The view was the best in the park for my money. I was glad I made the effort. You had commanding views of the whole area, which is why there is a fire tower up there. It used to spot fires. It did not look like it was not manned at that moment, but a sign suggested it should be.
I did not stay a long time, as Margo was downhill, and these kinds of things are meant to be shared with someone. Enjoying them alone is a little selfish, and something suggesting unfulfilling, when viewed alone. With one more look around, and several pictures, which will never do the view justice, taken, I made the much easier descent to the parking area.
It wasn’t very long before we reached our last overlook and physical feature of the park, Montezuma Valley overlook. This was another grand vista, with the additional lineament of a dead pinon pine tree, whose skeleton begged to be photographed. It stood guarding the overlook, adding a reminder that this was a place that could kill you if you were not careful and prepared.
There was not much walking to get to this overlook so Margo happily joined me, and we clicked a few pictures while pondering the valley and the tree. We had the place to ourselves, and really, done of this trip had been marred by overcrowding. When we left a few minutes later, it was with the knowledge that we likely would not see this again.
I thought we were done with Mesa Verde, at least with the exception of collecting my National Park sign, but I was wrong. I had completely forgotten about the Visitor’s Center we passed early this morning upon entry. We turned in and parked, and immediately noticed a 20 foot statue that appeared to show a monkey, with man-like proportions scaling a curved tree. The only part that made you second guess your initial conjecture was that the monkey appeared to have a basket on its back. Closer inspection revealed it to be an Ancient Puebloan, whose hanging loin cloth, looked somewhat like a tail, and who was laboring to climb a sheer cliff with a basket of maize. Tough living. I would have died.
The museum itself was okay. On room is dominated by a giant relief map of the park. Ordinarily these things are a like a magnet to me, but there were some preteens around this one, and preteens suck the joy out of anything they touch. They are loud, selfish, and oblivious. I am sure I was never that way. (The world really does need a sarcasm font). So, I just gave it a cursory look and moved on. The Gift Shop definitely has more gravity, because they always drag me in. Margo is the same. But, I think we managed to buy nothing, which should probably be marked on the calendar.
This was it for Mesa Verde. We were out on Highway 160 heading east about 5 minutes later. We had decided we were going to stay in Pagosa Springs. The idea was to cut some drive time off our trip home on Monday. We needed to get the car returned by 6:00 PM, and we really did not want to rush. We wanted a nice leisurely drive home. If we saw something we wanted to stop and take a look at, we would have time.
It is an hour and 45 minutes from the Visitor’s Center to Pagosa Springs. On the way in through Pagosa Springs, we kept trying to remember the name of the hotel we stayed at when Jolene got married. We kept driving past places saying “That looks familiar” and “I think that was it”. Then we drove past the Pagosa Inn and Suites and we both said “That’s it!”. On the way back through we didn’t even mention it.
But, our goal this time was the High Country Lodge and Cabins. I had found this doing my on line research. When I got on to TripAdvisor and looked at the reviews, one thing caught my eye. The owner was very hands on, and was not afraid to take on the bully reviewers. These are people that have a bad day and take it out on the hotel or worse behave like jackasses, and then don’t get their way. They act like spoiled children and make threats of bad reviews. They are not always easy to spot, but usually they give themselves away by describing in the second paragraph what set them off. Several of the bad ones had to do with pet owners, not following hotel rules and then not being successful in having the financial penalty removed.
When Margo and I checked in, the rules were thoroughly, although a little quickly explained. No Smoking. No Pets. They used to be pet friendly, but one rule was to keep pets off the bed and to not let them have run of the place when the owner was gone. People would whine about how good their pet was and that they did not bring a kennel, and that it was not possible to keep the dog off the bed. The owner would respond back that they had not only be told of the rules, they initialed beside the rule, and there was a fine if disobeyed. The owners claimed to have to replace the bedding many times, because it was next to impossible to get the dog hair removed. I don’t know if that was true, but I hate rule breakers, and I hate bullies. “Give me my way or else”
Two paragraphs on nothing. We liked the hotel. We got a real key. Not a key card. I can’t remember when the last time that happened. I think it was $10 or $12 to replace it if you lost it. Imagine that, a hotel assessing responsibility for irresponsible actions. I liked it. It was starting to cool down by the time we checked in, which had to be around 5 PM. Our room was homey, decorated in a western theme, with moose comforters on the beds. It was quiet, even with Highway 160 right out front. Sure there was traffic, but it was not horns blaring, cars screeching traffic. It was swoosh. Car goes by. Swoosh. Car goes by. For me it added comfort, that civilization was nearby, in an area surrounded by beautiful mountains. Nature purists will be mortified by my description, but to heck with them. Hike up into the mountains until all you hear are mosquitos, pitch a tent, you have your idea of heaven, and I have mine. This was the most relaxed I had felt in months
We had passed a place called The Junction about a mile or so, before getting to our hotel. We had no better idea, so after checking in and dumping out luggage, we headed west back to The Junction. The food was decent, although the waitress nearly talked me out of the fried chicken. She said it “looked” dry to her. I took a chance and it was fine. It wasn’t super juicy or anything, but was not dry either.
They had a nice souvenir area, and those are must see attractions for Margo and I. At the coffee mug areas we found the exact mug which Savannah had brought me when she went to Pagosa Springs, several years ago. Margo and Jackie are always using it, so Margo bought here one in a different color. Yeah!
Back to the hotel and we spent the night basically unwinding. I worked on my narrative some, but was in bed a bit before midnight.
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Day Five--Monday, August 12, 2019
Day Five—Monday, August 12th
We didn’t have to get up early, Thank God for the extra rest, but we kinda did anyway. I was up at 7:45 AM, and Margo earlier. I slept well. Margo’s back was acting up again. My normal weekend wake up time is between 9 AM and 9:30 AM. I rarely go to bed before 11:45 AM, and then am up at 6:45 AM, for work. So I usually have a sleep deficit by Saturday. But, today is Monday.
Margo manages the luggage. We each have our parts in these vacations. She is a whiz at packing and organizing. So, I stay out of her way. Best I can do is haul things to and from the car, and that was my job. But, not quite yet.
The High Country Lodge and Cabins has an AM breakfast, that was almost as good as the one we had in Cortez. The biscuits were tiny, and a little hard, but the rest was just fine. I think we even had bacon. If we end up needing a hotel in the area, again, this will be the place.
On the road around about 9:15 AM. It was a cool morning, in the low 60s, I would guess. It had rained and everything had a clean feel to it. Out goal for the day was just to drive home. Drive time is supposed to be in the 5 hour range, but I knew it was going to take longer. I needed to make too many pitstops, and Margo had expressed interest in picking up one of the carved bears we had seen at serval roadside stands, as we drove up.
We had seen the bears after turning passing Leadville, so our plan was to retrace out route. This was a longer way home, adding about half an hour, but it is beautiful country and we were not in a big hurry. We stopped in South Fork, which was only an hour away. I took care of business and topped of the tank. We had not had a bear sighting of yet.
We passed through Del Norte, Center, Sagauche, and Villa Grove. Each town brought the anticipation of seeing one of those stands, but other than the scenery, which was greener than I had remembered it, we were disappointed. We, as in I, had missed the overlook near Wolf Creek pass. We had stopped there in 2010 when Jolene and Randy were married. It is very picturesque and is worthy of the overused word, awesome. But, no nears.
The next town was Poncha Springs. It had been an hour and a half since our last stop, and here at a place called Salida Spa and Stove, was a large rack of these bears. It is obvious that someone had laid these out, at several places, on consignment, and the owners of the business get a cut. Margo did not care about the economics of the situation; she just wanted a bear for our entry hall. She was both teased and disappointed, when this purveyor of hot tubs was closed.
We pulled out and passed through Nathrop and Johnson Village. Both were small towns and the only bears appearing there would be of the real sort, and both not for sale or of practical use. 30 minutes after leaving Poncha Springs, we were driving through Buena Vista. I spotted another rack of these bears in front of an antique shop. We pulled over. The place was called Rustic Woods, and Margo had her bear picked out in about 5 minutes.
As we are walking to the store itself, we notice a pig on a bicycle, pulling a cart. The pink pig’s head is on a spring, and the whole thing is meant to hold a planter. We immediately think of Jessi and her long time collection of pigs. She will love it, although it will have to be for Christmas. It took us a few minutes to rearrange our luggage and stuff, but we got it all in there and now we could head home.
We had about three hours of drive time under our belts and 30-45 minutes of time in gas stations or a bear hunt. It was near 1 PM and we were both hungry. I kind of had my heart set on Leadville for lunch. It is a historic town and would have more energy than Buena Vista. It would also have more choices for a meal. Leadville was bout 40 minutes away, and we were both more than ready for lunch by then.
We had a time finding a place to park. I guess even a Monday is high time during a Colorado summer. Once we did park we found a place called Casa Sanchez. Margo is always up for Mexican food. I chose the city; it was only fair she got choose the restaurant. We ate outside and people watched or messed on our phones. Our waiter was young, but enthusiastic and actually pretty good. He was happy to have the job. After about 45 minutes or so we were on our way.
We stopped about a 1 ¼ later at Idaho Springs. This was getting old. Out timing was not good Even on a Monday, traffic was going to pick up not long after we came out of the mountains. That is exactly what happened. We did not get home until 5:40. That was about 30 minutes, of 150% of how long it would have taken off peak. What are you gonna do?
My goal was to have the car returned by 6 PM. We were about 15 minutes late, but it did not cost us anything. It had been a great trip, but we were both tired and hungry. We had picked up Jackie, so we could get dinner as soon as we dropped off the car. Both my A/C was acting up, and the car drove spongy. I suspected a low tire. I was right. Welcome back to the real world.
We didn’t have to get up early, Thank God for the extra rest, but we kinda did anyway. I was up at 7:45 AM, and Margo earlier. I slept well. Margo’s back was acting up again. My normal weekend wake up time is between 9 AM and 9:30 AM. I rarely go to bed before 11:45 AM, and then am up at 6:45 AM, for work. So I usually have a sleep deficit by Saturday. But, today is Monday.
Margo manages the luggage. We each have our parts in these vacations. She is a whiz at packing and organizing. So, I stay out of her way. Best I can do is haul things to and from the car, and that was my job. But, not quite yet.
The High Country Lodge and Cabins has an AM breakfast, that was almost as good as the one we had in Cortez. The biscuits were tiny, and a little hard, but the rest was just fine. I think we even had bacon. If we end up needing a hotel in the area, again, this will be the place.
On the road around about 9:15 AM. It was a cool morning, in the low 60s, I would guess. It had rained and everything had a clean feel to it. Out goal for the day was just to drive home. Drive time is supposed to be in the 5 hour range, but I knew it was going to take longer. I needed to make too many pitstops, and Margo had expressed interest in picking up one of the carved bears we had seen at serval roadside stands, as we drove up.
We had seen the bears after turning passing Leadville, so our plan was to retrace out route. This was a longer way home, adding about half an hour, but it is beautiful country and we were not in a big hurry. We stopped in South Fork, which was only an hour away. I took care of business and topped of the tank. We had not had a bear sighting of yet.
We passed through Del Norte, Center, Sagauche, and Villa Grove. Each town brought the anticipation of seeing one of those stands, but other than the scenery, which was greener than I had remembered it, we were disappointed. We, as in I, had missed the overlook near Wolf Creek pass. We had stopped there in 2010 when Jolene and Randy were married. It is very picturesque and is worthy of the overused word, awesome. But, no nears.
The next town was Poncha Springs. It had been an hour and a half since our last stop, and here at a place called Salida Spa and Stove, was a large rack of these bears. It is obvious that someone had laid these out, at several places, on consignment, and the owners of the business get a cut. Margo did not care about the economics of the situation; she just wanted a bear for our entry hall. She was both teased and disappointed, when this purveyor of hot tubs was closed.
We pulled out and passed through Nathrop and Johnson Village. Both were small towns and the only bears appearing there would be of the real sort, and both not for sale or of practical use. 30 minutes after leaving Poncha Springs, we were driving through Buena Vista. I spotted another rack of these bears in front of an antique shop. We pulled over. The place was called Rustic Woods, and Margo had her bear picked out in about 5 minutes.
As we are walking to the store itself, we notice a pig on a bicycle, pulling a cart. The pink pig’s head is on a spring, and the whole thing is meant to hold a planter. We immediately think of Jessi and her long time collection of pigs. She will love it, although it will have to be for Christmas. It took us a few minutes to rearrange our luggage and stuff, but we got it all in there and now we could head home.
We had about three hours of drive time under our belts and 30-45 minutes of time in gas stations or a bear hunt. It was near 1 PM and we were both hungry. I kind of had my heart set on Leadville for lunch. It is a historic town and would have more energy than Buena Vista. It would also have more choices for a meal. Leadville was bout 40 minutes away, and we were both more than ready for lunch by then.
We had a time finding a place to park. I guess even a Monday is high time during a Colorado summer. Once we did park we found a place called Casa Sanchez. Margo is always up for Mexican food. I chose the city; it was only fair she got choose the restaurant. We ate outside and people watched or messed on our phones. Our waiter was young, but enthusiastic and actually pretty good. He was happy to have the job. After about 45 minutes or so we were on our way.
We stopped about a 1 ¼ later at Idaho Springs. This was getting old. Out timing was not good Even on a Monday, traffic was going to pick up not long after we came out of the mountains. That is exactly what happened. We did not get home until 5:40. That was about 30 minutes, of 150% of how long it would have taken off peak. What are you gonna do?
My goal was to have the car returned by 6 PM. We were about 15 minutes late, but it did not cost us anything. It had been a great trip, but we were both tired and hungry. We had picked up Jackie, so we could get dinner as soon as we dropped off the car. Both my A/C was acting up, and the car drove spongy. I suspected a low tire. I was right. Welcome back to the real world.
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