I'm still LMAO!
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Political Cartoons and More...
A nice collection via my mom, to make you laugh and cry at the same time...
Regulation is the Enemy of Free Enterprise...
Another excellent mini-documentary by Reason.TV. This one is about the bus industry, and how the government killed it once with regulations, brought it back to life with deregulation, and now is killing it again with regulations...
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Day 24: Home...
We left our little plastic motel room in Parowan at 6 am and took off down the I-15 for home. Again we decided to add a few hours to our drive to avoid the Los Angeles area, so at Las Vegas we headed south on US 95 and made our way over back roads to El Centro. There we picked up I-8 and zoomed home to Jamul.
Some of our route was new to us, especially the part from Blythe to Glamis to Brawley to El Centro. About all I can say about that area is this: it makes Hanksville look attractive. It's not likely we'll ever pass that way again.
We got home around 4:30 pm. Dionecia B., our house-sitter, greeted us along with all our animals who stayed at home. Miki and Race ran in to greet Dionecia, whom they know well. She did a wonderfully good job taking care of the house and the animals, handling a couple of difficult situations exactly was we'd have wanted her to do. Instead of being a mess, the house is as clean and neat as its ever been. Dionecia even organized a closet whose floor and rear wall haven't seen light for ten years or so. That's the way to come home!
Well, our vacation is officially over :(
Some of our route was new to us, especially the part from Blythe to Glamis to Brawley to El Centro. About all I can say about that area is this: it makes Hanksville look attractive. It's not likely we'll ever pass that way again.
We got home around 4:30 pm. Dionecia B., our house-sitter, greeted us along with all our animals who stayed at home. Miki and Race ran in to greet Dionecia, whom they know well. She did a wonderfully good job taking care of the house and the animals, handling a couple of difficult situations exactly was we'd have wanted her to do. Instead of being a mess, the house is as clean and neat as its ever been. Dionecia even organized a closet whose floor and rear wall haven't seen light for ten years or so. That's the way to come home!
Well, our vacation is officially over :(
Day 23: Moab to Parowan...
Update: Reader and friend Simon M. corrects my inept use of a sports term. I said “…batting 50-50”, which he tells me should actually be “…batting 500”. That makes no sense to me, but I'm certain his expertise in this area is greater than mine (because mine is approximately the lowest in the world). The correction has been made below...
Also, the second melon has now been consumed, and it was a great one!
Original Post:
Today was the first day it really felt like we were headed home, which of course we were. We stopped first at the Jailhouse Cafe for another great breakfast, and then took off north to hit I-70.
We took a different route, trying to avoid Hanksville and the surrounding area. This time we went west on I-70 to the junction with Utah 10, and then wandered southwest to Panguitch, over Cedar Breaks, and down past Brian Head into Parowan.
The country we passed through was all new to us, and certainly prettier and more interesting than Hanksville :) Alon the way we some pronghorn antelope (first on this trip) and lots of beautiful and prosperous farmland. Also more than a few deer.
We stopped in Green River and bought some melons - the first one we tried was awful, and we ended up throwing it away. Melons sure are a hit-or-miss affair, and I don't think we're even batting 500. Sometimes we get a real winner, sometimes not so much...
Before leaving Green River, we stopped to get a drink at one of those convenience stores that's built into a gas station. There was a bus parked outside, but we didn't think anything of it. When I went inside, the place was absolutely packed with Japanese tourists – what looked like a hundred short people, all with black hair, and all smiles and laughs and chattering away at a mile a minute. Camera flashes were popping all over the place. I watched a giggling couple taking photographs of a ketchup dispenser – I'd love to know why! There was a Japanese man behind the counter, chattering away to the tourists in Japanese; I suspect his presence accounts for the bus stopping here...
After a few hours of travel we got to Centerville, where we found a little shop that sells espresso (Debbie's only good for a few hours at a stretch without another “hit”). When Debbie went in for her fix, she discovered homemade cakes on display – so she got us a big piece of carrot cake. That was the best carrot cake I've had in a very long time, and I'm no carrot cake fan. We polished it off in just a few minutes, with Debbie feeding me pieces as we drove.
In the midst of the farmland around Centerville, we drove alongside a meandering brook that wound its way through meadow and willow. One a little peninsula formed by one of the brook's bends, we spotted a young buck standing and watching us. He was a magnificent specimen, and perfectly displayed in that setting. The sun was behind him, backlighting the fuzz on his antlers. He was munching some brilliant green grass. The brook burbled at his feet. Willows provided a backdrop. Perfect...
In another little town we saw an old broken-down wooden cart in someone's front yard. It had been filled with dirt, and had sunflowers growing out of it. Cute, and very cheerful in the sunlight...
We pulled into Panguitch on US 89, but switched there to Utah 143 to go over Cedar Breaks. In Panguitch you just go straight on US 89 south and it turns into Utah 143; you have to turn left to stay on US 89. It would be easy for someone to miss that left turn, and end up on Utah 143 thinking they were still on US 89. Still, we got a big laugh out of an official highway sign along Utah 143 as we left Panguitch – it said “This is not US 89!”
As we crossed over Cedar Breaks, we were in a storm. We had periods of very intense rain, and even a little small hail. A lot of our possessions were in the Rhino bag on our roof, and we worried a bit about whether everything was going to get wet. We needn't have worried – when I unpacked tonight, everything inside was dry as a bone.
We pulled into Parowan in the late afternoon, and decided to just relax in our room at the Days Inn and go to bed early. Tomorrow we drive home, a 10 hour drive that we wanted to start early, before it got too danged hot...
Also, the second melon has now been consumed, and it was a great one!
Original Post:
Today was the first day it really felt like we were headed home, which of course we were. We stopped first at the Jailhouse Cafe for another great breakfast, and then took off north to hit I-70.
We took a different route, trying to avoid Hanksville and the surrounding area. This time we went west on I-70 to the junction with Utah 10, and then wandered southwest to Panguitch, over Cedar Breaks, and down past Brian Head into Parowan.
The country we passed through was all new to us, and certainly prettier and more interesting than Hanksville :) Alon the way we some pronghorn antelope (first on this trip) and lots of beautiful and prosperous farmland. Also more than a few deer.
We stopped in Green River and bought some melons - the first one we tried was awful, and we ended up throwing it away. Melons sure are a hit-or-miss affair, and I don't think we're even batting 500. Sometimes we get a real winner, sometimes not so much...
Before leaving Green River, we stopped to get a drink at one of those convenience stores that's built into a gas station. There was a bus parked outside, but we didn't think anything of it. When I went inside, the place was absolutely packed with Japanese tourists – what looked like a hundred short people, all with black hair, and all smiles and laughs and chattering away at a mile a minute. Camera flashes were popping all over the place. I watched a giggling couple taking photographs of a ketchup dispenser – I'd love to know why! There was a Japanese man behind the counter, chattering away to the tourists in Japanese; I suspect his presence accounts for the bus stopping here...
After a few hours of travel we got to Centerville, where we found a little shop that sells espresso (Debbie's only good for a few hours at a stretch without another “hit”). When Debbie went in for her fix, she discovered homemade cakes on display – so she got us a big piece of carrot cake. That was the best carrot cake I've had in a very long time, and I'm no carrot cake fan. We polished it off in just a few minutes, with Debbie feeding me pieces as we drove.
In the midst of the farmland around Centerville, we drove alongside a meandering brook that wound its way through meadow and willow. One a little peninsula formed by one of the brook's bends, we spotted a young buck standing and watching us. He was a magnificent specimen, and perfectly displayed in that setting. The sun was behind him, backlighting the fuzz on his antlers. He was munching some brilliant green grass. The brook burbled at his feet. Willows provided a backdrop. Perfect...
In another little town we saw an old broken-down wooden cart in someone's front yard. It had been filled with dirt, and had sunflowers growing out of it. Cute, and very cheerful in the sunlight...
We pulled into Panguitch on US 89, but switched there to Utah 143 to go over Cedar Breaks. In Panguitch you just go straight on US 89 south and it turns into Utah 143; you have to turn left to stay on US 89. It would be easy for someone to miss that left turn, and end up on Utah 143 thinking they were still on US 89. Still, we got a big laugh out of an official highway sign along Utah 143 as we left Panguitch – it said “This is not US 89!”
As we crossed over Cedar Breaks, we were in a storm. We had periods of very intense rain, and even a little small hail. A lot of our possessions were in the Rhino bag on our roof, and we worried a bit about whether everything was going to get wet. We needn't have worried – when I unpacked tonight, everything inside was dry as a bone.
We pulled into Parowan in the late afternoon, and decided to just relax in our room at the Days Inn and go to bed early. Tomorrow we drive home, a 10 hour drive that we wanted to start early, before it got too danged hot...
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Day 22: All Around Moab...
The dogs got us up around 6, and an hour later we were at the Jailhouse Cafe in Moab, having another wonderful breakfast. Then we headed south, in the general direction of Pack Creek, where we started a rather large route that ended up being roughly a half circle counterclockwise around the town of Moab, ending up back at our lodge. Our route took us over Geyser Pass, then across Taylor Flats, down to Fisher Valley, and finally down Onion Creek's canyon. It's hard to imagine a more varied route – our altitude varied from 5,000' to 10,500', and the flora from aspen/fir forest to desert scrub in the red sands of Fisher Valley.
Our first stop was in Gold Basin, at 10,000' in the aspens and firs. There we ran the dogs through a pretty little meadow, chasing the ball until they were ready to drop. Then Debbie noted that the rails would make a good practice jump, though they were a bit high. See photos below for the result.
We saw our first deer as we turned onto Taylor Flats: a pair of does that quickly ran off. That area, and in fact the entire eastern slopes of the La Sal mountains, were absolutely covered with wild irises gone to seed. There are more irises here, by far, than the previous density champion – the south side of Stony Pass in the San Juans. Here, the irises are mostly in mixed aspen and meadow areas, thoroughly mixed with wild roses. If both of them are in bloom at the same time, it must be spectacular here...
Shortly after we saw the deer, we came upon a scene that had us in stitches, what Debbie calls the “cattle drive of shame”. From appearances, it looked like a couple of guys who knew how to ride horses were leading a gaggle of 10 or so “dudes” (at least two of whom were women) in a pathetic attempt to “drive” 20 or 25 cattle into another pasture. They also had a couple of border collies who appeared to be untrained. They left stragglers. They were challenged getting their horses through the scrub oak; some of the riders were screaming. One had to stop and cinch his saddle. Another had to stop and take a leak (and then had trouble getting back on his horse). Cattle were going everywhere except where they were supposed to go. Some riders weighed nearly what their horse did. It was pure comedy gold, and we thoroughly enjoyed the free roadside entertainment :)
Then we started seeing mountain bluebirds, who apparently thought the mixed sage and scrub oak meadows of Taylor Flats were a fine place to live. The males were beautiful against the dark scrub oaks...
At one point we came around a curve in the road, in a part that was mixed aspen, fir, and oak forest, and there right in front of us was a fawn. It was still spotted, and we're guessing two or three weeks old. It just stood there for about 45 seconds, while we were just 20' or so away, trying to figure out what to do. Its mother was just off the road to our left, and was very cautious; she wouldn't venture onto the road. Eventually the little thing bounded off to our right, and we drove through to allow the doe to get across without fear of us. It was the best view of a young fawn we've had in quite a while; the highpoint of the day for both of us.
Just a bit further down the road, we passed a pasture full of horses, including several young colts. None of them were far away from us, and none were in the least frightened, so we were able to watch for a while. Beautiful animals...
Another 10 miles or so further on, we got into a flora that was sort of intermediate between Taylor Flats and pinyon-juniper high desert. We had pinyons, and junipers (huge!), a very few cacti (mainly a kind of dwarf prickly pear), but also oak, Ponderosa pine, and even an occasional aspen. We took one corner to the left in this area and there right in front of us was a gaggle of people sitting on folding chairs in the middle of the road. This is a one-lane dirt road, mind you, maybe 12' wide. There were a dozen or so people, and their five jeeps all parked in a row beside them. After watching them for a minute, speechless (for we had never seen anything like this before), we figured out that they were eating lunch. A picnic, in the middle of the road, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Finally one of them saw us (our FJ is very quiet), and in a moment they were scrambling to get out of our way. We talked to them on our way through; basically they just didn't expect to see anyone else way out here. Weird!
A few miles after that we were driving down a roughish patch of road traversing a steep canyon side. Debbie thought we should water the dogs, so I stopped and we let the two mutts have their fill of water. Then I opened our refrigerator to get us some water, and I saw it: Debbie's leftover chocolate terrine from last night's dinner. It was almost complete, as she could only eat a couple of nibbles last night. That terrine sounded mighty good to us, and we ate it all over the next couple miles of travel. Debbie picked up little bits of it and fed me as I drove, as she ate half herself. We marveled at the sheer decadence of the moment: here we were, in approximately the geometric center of the middle of nowhere, eating this ice-cold flourless chocolate terrine that could be a symbol for a sophisticated dessert. That thing was delicious, more so than it would have been at the restaurant.
Coming down off the mesas into Fisher Valley, our road took us up a small box canyon and out over it's high end. We were surprised to see lots of washouts from a recent rain. There was lots of debris all over the road, and in places we saw there must have been a foot or more of water running over the road. Considering the small size of the box canyon (and subsequently the small size of the collection area for this water), this must have been one hellacious downpour to have produced this much water flow. We ended up feeling lucky that we hadn't had more than a few sprinkles today, though the skies looked like they might open up and pour at any moment.
Driving through Fisher Valley, we saw more evidence of recent floods, and lots of recent road repair. As we headed down into Onion Creek's canyon, we saw flood damage that absolutely dwarfed what we'd seen in the box canyon – enough to make Debbie quite nervous about being in the canyon at all! There were places where the flood had been running 4' to 5' above normal height, and 50' or more wide. This is in a steep canyon, so that water was running very fast. Debris was hurled up all over the place, everything from mud to 40' cottonwood trees to boulders the size of a pickup truck. We saw countless numbers of boulders – some quite large – that bore evidence of having been moved by the flood. Most had marks on them where rocks had crashed together; some were smashed; others had big chunks taken out of them. It's hard to imagine the force that water had, in order to move boulders that must weigh several tons. We shuddered to think what it would have been like to have one of those rocks descend upon us. The road through Onion Creek's canyon crossed the creek numerous times – and the road was cut by the flood at every single one of those crossings. All had been repaired, mostly rather crudely, by bulldozer and scraper. Much work remains to restore the road to its original condition. Debbie was quite happy to get out of there :)
Exiting Onion Creek's canyon, we were right on the Colorado River. We zipped down to Moab and had a repeat of our meal last night at Buck's Grillhouse. Debbie had exactly the same meal: a Caesar salad and a rare sirloin. I had the corn chowder again, but had duck tamales with grilled pineapple salsa for the entree. Yum! We refrained from ordering desert tonight :)
Our first stop was in Gold Basin, at 10,000' in the aspens and firs. There we ran the dogs through a pretty little meadow, chasing the ball until they were ready to drop. Then Debbie noted that the rails would make a good practice jump, though they were a bit high. See photos below for the result.
We saw our first deer as we turned onto Taylor Flats: a pair of does that quickly ran off. That area, and in fact the entire eastern slopes of the La Sal mountains, were absolutely covered with wild irises gone to seed. There are more irises here, by far, than the previous density champion – the south side of Stony Pass in the San Juans. Here, the irises are mostly in mixed aspen and meadow areas, thoroughly mixed with wild roses. If both of them are in bloom at the same time, it must be spectacular here...
Shortly after we saw the deer, we came upon a scene that had us in stitches, what Debbie calls the “cattle drive of shame”. From appearances, it looked like a couple of guys who knew how to ride horses were leading a gaggle of 10 or so “dudes” (at least two of whom were women) in a pathetic attempt to “drive” 20 or 25 cattle into another pasture. They also had a couple of border collies who appeared to be untrained. They left stragglers. They were challenged getting their horses through the scrub oak; some of the riders were screaming. One had to stop and cinch his saddle. Another had to stop and take a leak (and then had trouble getting back on his horse). Cattle were going everywhere except where they were supposed to go. Some riders weighed nearly what their horse did. It was pure comedy gold, and we thoroughly enjoyed the free roadside entertainment :)
Then we started seeing mountain bluebirds, who apparently thought the mixed sage and scrub oak meadows of Taylor Flats were a fine place to live. The males were beautiful against the dark scrub oaks...
At one point we came around a curve in the road, in a part that was mixed aspen, fir, and oak forest, and there right in front of us was a fawn. It was still spotted, and we're guessing two or three weeks old. It just stood there for about 45 seconds, while we were just 20' or so away, trying to figure out what to do. Its mother was just off the road to our left, and was very cautious; she wouldn't venture onto the road. Eventually the little thing bounded off to our right, and we drove through to allow the doe to get across without fear of us. It was the best view of a young fawn we've had in quite a while; the highpoint of the day for both of us.
Just a bit further down the road, we passed a pasture full of horses, including several young colts. None of them were far away from us, and none were in the least frightened, so we were able to watch for a while. Beautiful animals...
Another 10 miles or so further on, we got into a flora that was sort of intermediate between Taylor Flats and pinyon-juniper high desert. We had pinyons, and junipers (huge!), a very few cacti (mainly a kind of dwarf prickly pear), but also oak, Ponderosa pine, and even an occasional aspen. We took one corner to the left in this area and there right in front of us was a gaggle of people sitting on folding chairs in the middle of the road. This is a one-lane dirt road, mind you, maybe 12' wide. There were a dozen or so people, and their five jeeps all parked in a row beside them. After watching them for a minute, speechless (for we had never seen anything like this before), we figured out that they were eating lunch. A picnic, in the middle of the road, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Finally one of them saw us (our FJ is very quiet), and in a moment they were scrambling to get out of our way. We talked to them on our way through; basically they just didn't expect to see anyone else way out here. Weird!
A few miles after that we were driving down a roughish patch of road traversing a steep canyon side. Debbie thought we should water the dogs, so I stopped and we let the two mutts have their fill of water. Then I opened our refrigerator to get us some water, and I saw it: Debbie's leftover chocolate terrine from last night's dinner. It was almost complete, as she could only eat a couple of nibbles last night. That terrine sounded mighty good to us, and we ate it all over the next couple miles of travel. Debbie picked up little bits of it and fed me as I drove, as she ate half herself. We marveled at the sheer decadence of the moment: here we were, in approximately the geometric center of the middle of nowhere, eating this ice-cold flourless chocolate terrine that could be a symbol for a sophisticated dessert. That thing was delicious, more so than it would have been at the restaurant.
Coming down off the mesas into Fisher Valley, our road took us up a small box canyon and out over it's high end. We were surprised to see lots of washouts from a recent rain. There was lots of debris all over the road, and in places we saw there must have been a foot or more of water running over the road. Considering the small size of the box canyon (and subsequently the small size of the collection area for this water), this must have been one hellacious downpour to have produced this much water flow. We ended up feeling lucky that we hadn't had more than a few sprinkles today, though the skies looked like they might open up and pour at any moment.
Driving through Fisher Valley, we saw more evidence of recent floods, and lots of recent road repair. As we headed down into Onion Creek's canyon, we saw flood damage that absolutely dwarfed what we'd seen in the box canyon – enough to make Debbie quite nervous about being in the canyon at all! There were places where the flood had been running 4' to 5' above normal height, and 50' or more wide. This is in a steep canyon, so that water was running very fast. Debris was hurled up all over the place, everything from mud to 40' cottonwood trees to boulders the size of a pickup truck. We saw countless numbers of boulders – some quite large – that bore evidence of having been moved by the flood. Most had marks on them where rocks had crashed together; some were smashed; others had big chunks taken out of them. It's hard to imagine the force that water had, in order to move boulders that must weigh several tons. We shuddered to think what it would have been like to have one of those rocks descend upon us. The road through Onion Creek's canyon crossed the creek numerous times – and the road was cut by the flood at every single one of those crossings. All had been repaired, mostly rather crudely, by bulldozer and scraper. Much work remains to restore the road to its original condition. Debbie was quite happy to get out of there :)
Exiting Onion Creek's canyon, we were right on the Colorado River. We zipped down to Moab and had a repeat of our meal last night at Buck's Grillhouse. Debbie had exactly the same meal: a Caesar salad and a rare sirloin. I had the corn chowder again, but had duck tamales with grilled pineapple salsa for the entree. Yum! We refrained from ordering desert tonight :)
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| Miki proves that an agility dog trained to jump 16" jumps can do a 30" jump on demand. But he needed to bounce off the top; he couldn't quite clear it. When told to jump, Miki jumped - he refused to run under the rail... |
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| Race's first attempt to jump - not so good :) |
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| After that first flop, Race cleared it like a champ - no bounce needed. Race normally jumps 20" to 24", so this isn't quite as much of a stretch for him as it was for the Meekster... |
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| Seen down on Taylor Flats. It's a new one to me, but quite striking amongst the sage... |
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| The new one, close up... |
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| Looking west from just north of Taylor Flats... |
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| On the way down to Fisher Valley... |
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| Getting closer to Fisher Valley... |
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| Entering the top of Onion Creek's canyon... |
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| Halfway through Onion Creek canyon... |
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| Same point as in the photo above, looking the other way... |
Friday, July 26, 2013
Day 21: Silverton to Moab, via the La Sal Pass...
As planned, we did the final packing this morning and left the cabin at 7:45. The drive down the two mile 4WD-only road and then into Silverton was very sad for both of us. We had such a wonderful time while based at that cabin!
Late yesterday evening I saw a pika just outside the cabin, sitting on a little rock carefully surveying us. That was the first pika we'd seen at the cabin. Generally they need a talus slope for drying hay and storing it, so there must be one nearby that we'd not spotted...
Our drive today took us first on the paved (“smooth side up”, according to Debbie) roads from Silverton to the north through Ouray to Ridgway, from there to Norwood and Naturita, and then to the Utah highway that runs south of the La Sal Mountains. Then we turned onto rougher roads, up the Upper Two Mile road and over the 10,000 ft La Sal Pass, then down into Pack Creek where we rejoined paved roads and drove into Moab. We're staying here for two nights at the Red Cliffs Lodge, where we have a beautiful room that overlooks the Colorado River and the gorgeous scenery of its canyon (photo below).
The road over La Sal Pass was very easy up the south side to the pass, but far, far rougher than we remembered on the north side. The rough stuff was a little disconcerting as the FJ is reconfigured for a road trip, with the interior packed to the ceiling and all the self-recovery gear in the rooftop bag. Poor Race was going bonkers as we bounced around on large pieces of talus and scraped the bottom on others. Eventually he calmed down, but we're not sure if that's because he's gotten over the offroading phobia he developed halfway through this trip, or because we broke him :) In any case, the drive was very pretty and brought back fond memories of trips we made between 20 and 30 years ago to this region.
What initially brought us here all those years ago was Pack Creek Ranch, a privately owned ranch that rented out rude stone cabins and provided fine meals at a captive restaurant. That business folded in the mid-'90s, and we stopped coming here for lack of any place to stay that we'd like. Recently we heard that the Pack Creek Ranch was back in business, but there were two web sites (here and here), which really confused us. So today we stopped by there to find out directly what the heck was going on. We met a nice couple who, it turns out, are acting as the caretaker for the ten cabins there. They bought one of the cabins and they live there. The other nine cabins were purchased by various people, some were refurbished, and now all are offered for rent. However, between the nine people they're using 2 different management companies (hence the two different web sites) – one manages five cabins, the other manages four. The Gate House cabin that we used to rent, we found out, had been refurbished to “posh” status. We're going to look into coming out here for the fall color, which is spectacular in the La Sals...
After arriving at our lodge, we unpacked for our two day stay and headed into Moab for dinner at an old favorite restaurant: Buck's Grill House. Debbie had a Caesar salad and a gigantic sirloin steak; I had corn chowder and bajio. The whole thing was simply outstanding. We are so full we can barely move. Debbie ordered a chocolate terrine for desert that was also outstanding, but 90% of which is now in our refrigerator because both of us were too full to have more than a nibble...
Late yesterday evening I saw a pika just outside the cabin, sitting on a little rock carefully surveying us. That was the first pika we'd seen at the cabin. Generally they need a talus slope for drying hay and storing it, so there must be one nearby that we'd not spotted...
Our drive today took us first on the paved (“smooth side up”, according to Debbie) roads from Silverton to the north through Ouray to Ridgway, from there to Norwood and Naturita, and then to the Utah highway that runs south of the La Sal Mountains. Then we turned onto rougher roads, up the Upper Two Mile road and over the 10,000 ft La Sal Pass, then down into Pack Creek where we rejoined paved roads and drove into Moab. We're staying here for two nights at the Red Cliffs Lodge, where we have a beautiful room that overlooks the Colorado River and the gorgeous scenery of its canyon (photo below).
The road over La Sal Pass was very easy up the south side to the pass, but far, far rougher than we remembered on the north side. The rough stuff was a little disconcerting as the FJ is reconfigured for a road trip, with the interior packed to the ceiling and all the self-recovery gear in the rooftop bag. Poor Race was going bonkers as we bounced around on large pieces of talus and scraped the bottom on others. Eventually he calmed down, but we're not sure if that's because he's gotten over the offroading phobia he developed halfway through this trip, or because we broke him :) In any case, the drive was very pretty and brought back fond memories of trips we made between 20 and 30 years ago to this region.
What initially brought us here all those years ago was Pack Creek Ranch, a privately owned ranch that rented out rude stone cabins and provided fine meals at a captive restaurant. That business folded in the mid-'90s, and we stopped coming here for lack of any place to stay that we'd like. Recently we heard that the Pack Creek Ranch was back in business, but there were two web sites (here and here), which really confused us. So today we stopped by there to find out directly what the heck was going on. We met a nice couple who, it turns out, are acting as the caretaker for the ten cabins there. They bought one of the cabins and they live there. The other nine cabins were purchased by various people, some were refurbished, and now all are offered for rent. However, between the nine people they're using 2 different management companies (hence the two different web sites) – one manages five cabins, the other manages four. The Gate House cabin that we used to rent, we found out, had been refurbished to “posh” status. We're going to look into coming out here for the fall color, which is spectacular in the La Sals...
After arriving at our lodge, we unpacked for our two day stay and headed into Moab for dinner at an old favorite restaurant: Buck's Grill House. Debbie had a Caesar salad and a gigantic sirloin steak; I had corn chowder and bajio. The whole thing was simply outstanding. We are so full we can barely move. Debbie ordered a chocolate terrine for desert that was also outstanding, but 90% of which is now in our refrigerator because both of us were too full to have more than a nibble...
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| Miki, venturing into the waters on his own volition – which still amazes us... |
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| On the way up the south side of La Sal Pass. Note the profusion of lavender asters in the meadow... |
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| Lavender asters that are currently dominating the meadows in the La Sal Mountains... |
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| Coming down the north side of La Sal Pass, looking about north east at Moab's valley... |
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| The Colorado River Canyon, as seen tonight from our lodge room... |
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Day 20: The Cabin, Silverton Museum, and Preparing to Leave...
Today is the last full day we'll be in the San Juan Mountains. We're headed for the La Sal Mountains and Moab bright and early in the morning. This morning I finally took a few photos of the cabin (below).
In the morning we ducked down to Silverton to visit the museum. We'd met someone on the trail a few days ago who highly recommended it to us, saying that it was surprisingly good for a museum in such a small place. Now that we've seen it, we'd say that if anything this fellow understated it – that museum is an absolute “must see” for anyone visiting the area. We'll be back to visit it again, and we'll spend more time in it.
The museum is an eclectic collection of collections. It's focused on mining and related things, but also includes all sorts of other artifacts that help you understand what it was like to live here in the mining heyday. Lots and lots of antique tools – especially metalworking, mining, and carpentry – are on display in open cabinets or shelves that you can walk right up to and examine closely. There are collections of telephone pole insulators, license plates, kitchen utensils, parlor stoves, wagons, schoolhouse desks and science instruments, and much, much more. I could easily spend a couple of days in there!
One collection that caught my eye was some marvelous antique radios (early 1900s). They're not in working order, so I left my name and contact info and volunteered to help restore them if they have nobody local who can do it. That would be a lot of fun! I also enjoyed seeing the old printing presses, so similar to those I learned how to run in junior high school. They even had a California Job Case on display – something I hadn't seen for about 50 years!
Debbie was just as fascinated as I was. She got a very good idea (for the first time) of what it was like to work in the three-dimensional subterranean world of a mine. Gave her the heebie-jeebies :) There is a three-story tall display in the museum that really does convey the inside of a mine very nicely. She also particularly like the wagons and related items; there's a nice collection of those.
We walked out of the museum just delighted with the experience, except for one small event just before we left. We'd struck up a conversation with the lady who was running the curio shop and selling tickets, and in that conversation we mentioned we were leaving California, chased out by the politics. She immediately responded by telling us that the conservative nut-jobs were destroying Colorado as well. Both Debbie and I bit our tongues and left without causing a fuss. As soon as we were outside on the sidewalk, though, Debbie couldn't contain herself :)
In the morning we ducked down to Silverton to visit the museum. We'd met someone on the trail a few days ago who highly recommended it to us, saying that it was surprisingly good for a museum in such a small place. Now that we've seen it, we'd say that if anything this fellow understated it – that museum is an absolute “must see” for anyone visiting the area. We'll be back to visit it again, and we'll spend more time in it.
The museum is an eclectic collection of collections. It's focused on mining and related things, but also includes all sorts of other artifacts that help you understand what it was like to live here in the mining heyday. Lots and lots of antique tools – especially metalworking, mining, and carpentry – are on display in open cabinets or shelves that you can walk right up to and examine closely. There are collections of telephone pole insulators, license plates, kitchen utensils, parlor stoves, wagons, schoolhouse desks and science instruments, and much, much more. I could easily spend a couple of days in there!
One collection that caught my eye was some marvelous antique radios (early 1900s). They're not in working order, so I left my name and contact info and volunteered to help restore them if they have nobody local who can do it. That would be a lot of fun! I also enjoyed seeing the old printing presses, so similar to those I learned how to run in junior high school. They even had a California Job Case on display – something I hadn't seen for about 50 years!
Debbie was just as fascinated as I was. She got a very good idea (for the first time) of what it was like to work in the three-dimensional subterranean world of a mine. Gave her the heebie-jeebies :) There is a three-story tall display in the museum that really does convey the inside of a mine very nicely. She also particularly like the wagons and related items; there's a nice collection of those.
We walked out of the museum just delighted with the experience, except for one small event just before we left. We'd struck up a conversation with the lady who was running the curio shop and selling tickets, and in that conversation we mentioned we were leaving California, chased out by the politics. She immediately responded by telling us that the conservative nut-jobs were destroying Colorado as well. Both Debbie and I bit our tongues and left without causing a fuss. As soon as we were outside on the sidewalk, though, Debbie couldn't contain herself :)
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| Our home away from home. Note the porch visible on the right; it extends all across the downhill side of the cabin, offering wonderful views... |
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| The morning view from the previously-mentioned porch... |
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| Insulator collection (one of several) at the Silverton Museum... |
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| It had never occurred to me to wonder what the miners did for a bathroom. Now I know... |
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| Tools of the mining blacksmith's trade. Some of these tools I'd really love to own myself! |
Day 19: Stony Pass, Lake City, Engineer Pass, Sheep, and Wildlife...
Today was the last full day we could go off adventuring, and we decided to reprise (roughly) our favorite day of the trip. This was just last Sunday, when we went over Stony Pass to the Rio Grande reservoir, then up to Lake City, and back “home” via Cinnamon Pass. We did the same trip today, except that we returned “home” via Engineer Pass from Lake City.
We left before sunrise, and drove up to Stony Pass in low light, both of us still sleepy (not enough caffeine). We looked for Rocky Mountain goats in the high meadows, but never saw one. Just after we crested Stony Pass, we came across a large herd of sheep (the same herd we've seen twice before). The shepherd's tent was there, with two border collies just outside it. Apparently we arrived before the shepherd got up :) The whole scene – grassy hills covered with sheep, with the tent and dogs – looked like something you'd see on a postcard.
Just a mile or so later, Debbie spotted some elk, much closer than the previous sighting. We got a great look at a few adults. It started to rain, never very hard but always at least spitting. Then we started spotting deer, including fawns, and we continued to do so for the next few hours. We lost count of how many we saw. None of them looked unhealthy, though a few were a bit skinny. In the same meadow where Debbie spotted elk on Sunday she spotted them again, this time a bit closer and lower in the meadow. We had a good long viewing of them again. At one point just after this, we spotted two does off to our right, one with a fawn. Then on our left we flushed a fawn and a snowshoe hare. Woo hoo!
When the road got down to the Rio Grande and we started seeing beaver ponds, Debbie spotted a roadside cross we'd missed before. It had a little brass tag that read:
B. R. Swindle
8-13-2010
"The Governor"
We searched on the web in vain for some reference as to who this cross might be for. We don't know if it memorializes a person or an animal.
A couple of ATVs approached and passed us, and one of the guys driving stopped, pointed at our truck, laughed, and made an appreciative comment about our “Slightly Loony” sign. This sort of thing has happened a lot on our drives, several times every day. We've gotten lots of smiles and laughs over the past couple of weeks, making us quite happy we'd taken the trouble to make it...
After we'd completed all the challenging parts of the road, and we were down alongside the Rio Grande reservoir, a pickup approached us and stopped, window down, to chat. The cab had a whole family: husband, wife, and a kid or two. The husband was driving, and all had big smiles and looked excited. He called over to us to let us know that the road ahead would be challenging, and asked about the road we'd just traversed. This left Debbie and I nearly speechless. We know this road well; we've been on it quite a few times over the years, including just three days earlier. We knew darned well that the part the pickup had just traversed was practically paved it was so easy, and that the part we'd just traversed was an order of magnitude more difficult. As gently as I could, I let the driver know there were lots of challenges ahead of him. Either he was joshing us, or he's an incredibly inexperienced offroader who was in for a big, big surprise in a few miles. The long wheelbase of his pickup was going to make the skinny, twisty, stony road ahead of him quite challenging even for someone who knew what they were doing. We're still wondering how they made out...
By the time we hit the paved road a few miles later, the hour was late enough that we didn't see nearly as much wildlife the rest of the day (though we did spot a few deer, including one buck in downtown Lake City). We zoomed over Slugmullion Pass to Lake City, where we reprised our previous meals of BBQ pulled pork sandwiches and sweet-and-sour cole slaw. The next stop was Mean Jean's for some coffee, and then we were off up Engineer Pass.
Once over the pass, we ran across the begging marmot again, and again he came right up to the FJ. This time we tried him out on some trail mix, and the little beggar loved it. He was brave enough to allow me to approach within three feet or so for some photos (see below). He had some pink on his snout we hadn't noticed before, probably because we weren't quite so close. He seemed to especially like the dried fruit in the trail mix, and Debbie had a great time dribbling out treats for him.
A little further down the road, between Engineer Pass and Cinnamon Pass, we came across a large flock of sheep. The sounds from them were delightful: tinkling from the few belled ewes, the high pitched baaaing of the lambs, and the lower-pitched, variable baaing of the adults. It was postcard-beautiful to see the sheep spread out all over the flowered meadows.
Just after we spotted the shepherd's trailer and horse (with a purple halter!), we got to Denver Lake – a perfect dog swimming spot, with grassy banks and some nice deep water for Race to swim in. We had a great time there, playing with the dogs. We tuckered them right out, and left with wet, panting, tired dogs in the FJ...
We left before sunrise, and drove up to Stony Pass in low light, both of us still sleepy (not enough caffeine). We looked for Rocky Mountain goats in the high meadows, but never saw one. Just after we crested Stony Pass, we came across a large herd of sheep (the same herd we've seen twice before). The shepherd's tent was there, with two border collies just outside it. Apparently we arrived before the shepherd got up :) The whole scene – grassy hills covered with sheep, with the tent and dogs – looked like something you'd see on a postcard.
Just a mile or so later, Debbie spotted some elk, much closer than the previous sighting. We got a great look at a few adults. It started to rain, never very hard but always at least spitting. Then we started spotting deer, including fawns, and we continued to do so for the next few hours. We lost count of how many we saw. None of them looked unhealthy, though a few were a bit skinny. In the same meadow where Debbie spotted elk on Sunday she spotted them again, this time a bit closer and lower in the meadow. We had a good long viewing of them again. At one point just after this, we spotted two does off to our right, one with a fawn. Then on our left we flushed a fawn and a snowshoe hare. Woo hoo!
When the road got down to the Rio Grande and we started seeing beaver ponds, Debbie spotted a roadside cross we'd missed before. It had a little brass tag that read:
B. R. Swindle
8-13-2010
"The Governor"
We searched on the web in vain for some reference as to who this cross might be for. We don't know if it memorializes a person or an animal.
A couple of ATVs approached and passed us, and one of the guys driving stopped, pointed at our truck, laughed, and made an appreciative comment about our “Slightly Loony” sign. This sort of thing has happened a lot on our drives, several times every day. We've gotten lots of smiles and laughs over the past couple of weeks, making us quite happy we'd taken the trouble to make it...
After we'd completed all the challenging parts of the road, and we were down alongside the Rio Grande reservoir, a pickup approached us and stopped, window down, to chat. The cab had a whole family: husband, wife, and a kid or two. The husband was driving, and all had big smiles and looked excited. He called over to us to let us know that the road ahead would be challenging, and asked about the road we'd just traversed. This left Debbie and I nearly speechless. We know this road well; we've been on it quite a few times over the years, including just three days earlier. We knew darned well that the part the pickup had just traversed was practically paved it was so easy, and that the part we'd just traversed was an order of magnitude more difficult. As gently as I could, I let the driver know there were lots of challenges ahead of him. Either he was joshing us, or he's an incredibly inexperienced offroader who was in for a big, big surprise in a few miles. The long wheelbase of his pickup was going to make the skinny, twisty, stony road ahead of him quite challenging even for someone who knew what they were doing. We're still wondering how they made out...
By the time we hit the paved road a few miles later, the hour was late enough that we didn't see nearly as much wildlife the rest of the day (though we did spot a few deer, including one buck in downtown Lake City). We zoomed over Slugmullion Pass to Lake City, where we reprised our previous meals of BBQ pulled pork sandwiches and sweet-and-sour cole slaw. The next stop was Mean Jean's for some coffee, and then we were off up Engineer Pass.
Once over the pass, we ran across the begging marmot again, and again he came right up to the FJ. This time we tried him out on some trail mix, and the little beggar loved it. He was brave enough to allow me to approach within three feet or so for some photos (see below). He had some pink on his snout we hadn't noticed before, probably because we weren't quite so close. He seemed to especially like the dried fruit in the trail mix, and Debbie had a great time dribbling out treats for him.
A little further down the road, between Engineer Pass and Cinnamon Pass, we came across a large flock of sheep. The sounds from them were delightful: tinkling from the few belled ewes, the high pitched baaaing of the lambs, and the lower-pitched, variable baaing of the adults. It was postcard-beautiful to see the sheep spread out all over the flowered meadows.
Just after we spotted the shepherd's trailer and horse (with a purple halter!), we got to Denver Lake – a perfect dog swimming spot, with grassy banks and some nice deep water for Race to swim in. We had a great time there, playing with the dogs. We tuckered them right out, and left with wet, panting, tired dogs in the FJ...
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| We have no idea WTF this is (seen near Rio Grande reservoir)... |
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| The begging marmot of Engineer Pass turns out to like trail mix... |
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| Dried pineapple may have been his favorite... |
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| But he was ok with the dried mango, too :) Note the pink on his snout – that's not a photo artifact, it was really there... |
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| A herd of sheep on the saddle between Engineer Pass and Cinnamon Pass. There were several hundred animals spread across a square mile or so of ground. Bells were tinkling, and the sheep were baaaaing. We found the shepherd's trailer and horse staked out below all the sheep. |
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| A couple of lambs, wondering about the orange FJ monster approaching them... |
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| At Denver Lake, Miki tries to steal the ball from Race. He never succeeded... |
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| Joyful, bounding dogs running to get the ball – the most important thing in the world... |
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| If you could plot the three-dimensional intersection of their gaze, you'd find it was the geometric center of the ball that Debbie was getting ready to toss. Total focus, total concentration – nothing else exists for these dogs... |
Day 18: Late, Slow, Yankee Boy Basin in Decline, and Playing Dogs...
After a couple of long days, we decided to sleep in this morning. It was approaching noon by the time we crawled down off Blair Mountain and into Silverton. Debbie had an appointment in Ouray at 6 pm to get her nails done, so we headed off to Yankee Boy Basin (where the flowers were so wonderful two weeks earlier) to enjoy some offroading until then.
Yankee Boy was still pretty, but had faded to the point where Stony Basin was a superior wildflower experience. Dodging mining trucks, tourist trucks, and inexperienced offroaders, we made our slow way up to the very top of the Yankee Boy Basin road, up around 12,500'. There I found some alpine areas on knolls, but even they were now past prime, with very little in bloom. It was a pleasant day, but not nearly as spectacular as our first visit, and we couldn't help but compare the two.
The day's highlight was a second visit to the pond at 12,200' where the dogs had enjoyed themselves two weeks earlier. This time we had it all to ourselves, and the dogs had a great time chasing the ball into the water or up a nearby hill. We played with them there until they were panting and moving much slower :) Then we loaded 'em up in the FJ and got a blanket on them, as they were wet and cold. Even Miki got wet!
Then it was off to Ouray, where Debbie and I had a good, but not memorable meal at the local Mexican restaurant. Then I dropped Debbie off for her nail appointment, and the dogs and I did a little exploring through the parts of town where tourists don't generally go. There I ran into a couple of interesting things.
First was an aging hippie out walking his yellow Labrador Retriever and a giant yellow tabby. Both were off-leash, and both were following him closely. As I drove slowly up alongside him, he called them both to him – and they both came up and sat down. I stopped to chat, and the cat jumped up into his arms. He told me that he'd trained the cat some ten years ago, and now these walks were their twice-a-day routine. I can't even imagine any of our cats doing this :)
The second interesting bit was a scene right out of Southern California. A modular home sat in a small yard, with a tall fence on both sides. This made a yard that was private except for the street. About 15 feet from the street was a hot tub, and in it were three people: two girls and a guy, all nude (as evidenced by the pile of of bathing suits beside the tub). One of the girls was shy, and covered herself with her hands as I drove (slowly :) by, the other had her arms spread out along the tub's edge and gave me a sunny, knowing smile as she displayed a choice pair of mammaries. Later I related all this to Debbie, who seemed to think I shouldn't have noticed anything. Silly girl :)
Debbie emerged from the nail salon with fingers outspread and hands carefully not touching anything – nail polish drying. I buckled her seatbelt for her, and we headed for “home” in our little cabin, where we rested up in preparation for a long day tomorrow...
Yankee Boy was still pretty, but had faded to the point where Stony Basin was a superior wildflower experience. Dodging mining trucks, tourist trucks, and inexperienced offroaders, we made our slow way up to the very top of the Yankee Boy Basin road, up around 12,500'. There I found some alpine areas on knolls, but even they were now past prime, with very little in bloom. It was a pleasant day, but not nearly as spectacular as our first visit, and we couldn't help but compare the two.
The day's highlight was a second visit to the pond at 12,200' where the dogs had enjoyed themselves two weeks earlier. This time we had it all to ourselves, and the dogs had a great time chasing the ball into the water or up a nearby hill. We played with them there until they were panting and moving much slower :) Then we loaded 'em up in the FJ and got a blanket on them, as they were wet and cold. Even Miki got wet!
Then it was off to Ouray, where Debbie and I had a good, but not memorable meal at the local Mexican restaurant. Then I dropped Debbie off for her nail appointment, and the dogs and I did a little exploring through the parts of town where tourists don't generally go. There I ran into a couple of interesting things.
First was an aging hippie out walking his yellow Labrador Retriever and a giant yellow tabby. Both were off-leash, and both were following him closely. As I drove slowly up alongside him, he called them both to him – and they both came up and sat down. I stopped to chat, and the cat jumped up into his arms. He told me that he'd trained the cat some ten years ago, and now these walks were their twice-a-day routine. I can't even imagine any of our cats doing this :)
The second interesting bit was a scene right out of Southern California. A modular home sat in a small yard, with a tall fence on both sides. This made a yard that was private except for the street. About 15 feet from the street was a hot tub, and in it were three people: two girls and a guy, all nude (as evidenced by the pile of of bathing suits beside the tub). One of the girls was shy, and covered herself with her hands as I drove (slowly :) by, the other had her arms spread out along the tub's edge and gave me a sunny, knowing smile as she displayed a choice pair of mammaries. Later I related all this to Debbie, who seemed to think I shouldn't have noticed anything. Silly girl :)
Debbie emerged from the nail salon with fingers outspread and hands carefully not touching anything – nail polish drying. I buckled her seatbelt for her, and we headed for “home” in our little cabin, where we rested up in preparation for a long day tomorrow...
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| Miki in the water! This is an amazing thing for us, as before this trip he wouldn't even dip a paw in. Now he'll even get wet! Race, of course, just plows in after the ball... |
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| Chasing the ball on a hill over the pond, two happy mutts... |
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| Just before snagging the ball in the middle of the pond. Check out the “bow wave” he's kicking up as he powers along. That's one strong dogly swimmer... |
Day 17: Meeting a Relative, and the Durango and Silverton Steam Railroad...
Today we met up with my cousin Mike and his wife Diane, something we planned several months ago and actually managed to pull off. We left our cabin at the crack of dawn for the hour-and-a-half drive down to Durango. First stop was the doggie day care we'd checked out last week, where we left an excited Miki (wagging his tail like mad and loving all over the folks there) and uncertain Race (who watched us leave with an uncertain look on his face). Then we got lost as we tried to find the railway station parking lot; a nice fellow we met on the street set us right.
As we entered the parking lot, I got my electronic receipt for the parking fee and prepared myself for a challenge getting acceptance of it (Mike had the actual ticket). It turned out to be no problem at all – Mike had been their first, and had made a memorable impression upon the clerk. Once she heard our name, she instantly knew who we were, knew we'd paid, and just waved us in. Nice!
We walked over to the train station and undertook the next challenge: locating Mike and Diane. You might think this would be easy, but not so – we've only seen them once in the past 50 years, and I in particular am really bad at remember faces, so we just wandered around looking for someone else looking. Finally Diane approached us (after we'd walked right by her), as she recognized my beard :). Once we found each other, all was well.
I've never ridden a steam powered train before, so in addition to the beautiful scenery and the pleasure of spending time with some relatives, I also had a new experience! The bad parts were the smoke and grit the coal-fired locomotive spewed. The good parts were the sights and sounds: the chuffing driver pistons, the steam whistle, and the hissing as the over-pressure vent let off steam. There was also some squirting of water out the side, perhaps for fire suppression.
These steam locomotives, it turns out, start quite a few small fires if you aren't careful. Someone we met in Silverton told us that at times of high risk the train was sometimes followed by a firefighting helicopter! No such problem today, but we were followed by a little tiny locomotive with two men on it. On the way from Durango to Silverton (uphill) they concentrated on fire suppression – the locomotive was working hard, and there were embers spewing. On the way back (downhill) they mostly picked up litter that train passengers dropped. I saw them pick up several things, so I know that was true. Sometimes I don't like my fellow humans all that much. Actually, that's most of the time...
The ride took much longer than I was expecting. The drive (which is longer and follows a different route) takes almost exactly one hour. The train ride takes three and a half hours each way – because the train averages just 12 to 15 miles per hour.
The train's route follows the Animas River quite closely. Most of the time we were in a valley of varying width, from miles to just a few hundred yards. For perhaps a quarter of the trip, though, we were in a very narrow, deep, rock-sided gorge that was quite beautiful.
The highlight of the whole day, though, was getting to spend some time with Mike and Diane. They live in Denver, and Diane had ridden on this train something like 30 years earlier. She told us about the big changes in both Durango and Silverton since then; both had grown enormously. We talked about all sorts of things, but most especially about various family memories. Mike is about 10 years older than I am, and remembers some things that I can't, such as my mom and dad dating :)
When we got back to Durango, we scooted over to the doggie day care and retrieved our mutts. They were fine, but boy were they happy to see us! Then we drove back to Silverton and repeated our dinner at Stellar – soup and a pizza again, and just as good as the first time.
A long day, but fun...and very different than what we've been doing!
As we entered the parking lot, I got my electronic receipt for the parking fee and prepared myself for a challenge getting acceptance of it (Mike had the actual ticket). It turned out to be no problem at all – Mike had been their first, and had made a memorable impression upon the clerk. Once she heard our name, she instantly knew who we were, knew we'd paid, and just waved us in. Nice!
We walked over to the train station and undertook the next challenge: locating Mike and Diane. You might think this would be easy, but not so – we've only seen them once in the past 50 years, and I in particular am really bad at remember faces, so we just wandered around looking for someone else looking. Finally Diane approached us (after we'd walked right by her), as she recognized my beard :). Once we found each other, all was well.
I've never ridden a steam powered train before, so in addition to the beautiful scenery and the pleasure of spending time with some relatives, I also had a new experience! The bad parts were the smoke and grit the coal-fired locomotive spewed. The good parts were the sights and sounds: the chuffing driver pistons, the steam whistle, and the hissing as the over-pressure vent let off steam. There was also some squirting of water out the side, perhaps for fire suppression.
These steam locomotives, it turns out, start quite a few small fires if you aren't careful. Someone we met in Silverton told us that at times of high risk the train was sometimes followed by a firefighting helicopter! No such problem today, but we were followed by a little tiny locomotive with two men on it. On the way from Durango to Silverton (uphill) they concentrated on fire suppression – the locomotive was working hard, and there were embers spewing. On the way back (downhill) they mostly picked up litter that train passengers dropped. I saw them pick up several things, so I know that was true. Sometimes I don't like my fellow humans all that much. Actually, that's most of the time...
The ride took much longer than I was expecting. The drive (which is longer and follows a different route) takes almost exactly one hour. The train ride takes three and a half hours each way – because the train averages just 12 to 15 miles per hour.
The train's route follows the Animas River quite closely. Most of the time we were in a valley of varying width, from miles to just a few hundred yards. For perhaps a quarter of the trip, though, we were in a very narrow, deep, rock-sided gorge that was quite beautiful.
The highlight of the whole day, though, was getting to spend some time with Mike and Diane. They live in Denver, and Diane had ridden on this train something like 30 years earlier. She told us about the big changes in both Durango and Silverton since then; both had grown enormously. We talked about all sorts of things, but most especially about various family memories. Mike is about 10 years older than I am, and remembers some things that I can't, such as my mom and dad dating :)
When we got back to Durango, we scooted over to the doggie day care and retrieved our mutts. They were fine, but boy were they happy to see us! Then we drove back to Silverton and repeated our dinner at Stellar – soup and a pizza again, and just as good as the first time.
A long day, but fun...and very different than what we've been doing!
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| Along the Animas River, on the way from Durango to Silverton... |
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| In our open train car, Diane (cousin Mike's wife) on left, and my lovely bride on the right. My photo of cousin Mike made him look so demonic that I couldn't bring myself to post it :) |
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| Water tank, unused today but formerly was used to replenish the water supply in the steam locomotive. This was of interest to me because of the construction: vertical wooden “staves” with iron hoops tightened with turnbuckles. We had a tank much like this on the farm I grew up on. |
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| Closer to Silverton, along the way... |
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| One of the three steam locomotives (not ours) used on the railroad... |
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| Animas River gorge, as seen from the train on the way back to Durango... |
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| Closer to Durango on the return trip... |
Monday, July 22, 2013
Day 16: Stony Pass, Lake City, and Cinnamon Pass...
I could have titled today's post “Day of the wildlife”. We left at dawn specifically to maximize our opportunity to spot wildlife, and it worked! As early as we were, we discovered later in the day that we were not the first on the trail – at least two other people started even earlier than us!
The first hint that we were going to have a good wildlife day came just as we started up the switchbacks on the beginning of the Stony Pass road. We spotted an animal bounding up a slope just in front of us, quickly moving out of sight. It looked to us like a fisher, a large member of the weasel family. It was dark brown and black, with a long tail held flat to the ground while running, and it moved with the classic undulating motion of a weasel. We didn't get a good look at its head, darn it. Our identification of it as a fisher is questionable, however, because all the references we can find say that fishers don't live here. So we're not sure what it was!
Then we started seeing deer. Lots of deer! Most of the deer we sighted were does, but we did see a buck or two. No fawns. All looked healthy, though a few looked a bit thin. Just south of Stoney Pass, on the long stretch of switchbacks through meadows that have lots of irises in them, we saw a buck off the road just above us. When the buck ran, he flushed a large bird. I walked up where the buck was, and flushed a large female grouse – first one we've seen here.
As we came to the bottom of those iris-filled meadows, we had the wildlife-spotting highlight of the day: Debbie spotted something moving in a meadow across the canyon, at about a mile and a half away. In the binoculars, we could see that it was a herd of elk. Elk! First we've seen on this trip. The herd was crossing an open stretch where we could see them, and we watched for 15 minutes or so as 30 to 40 animals crossed that stretch (we weren't counting). There were at least 10 calves, most of which scampered across the open area faster than the adults.
At one point as we got closer to the Rio Grande reservoir, we heard some birds fussing about above us. I poked my head out the window, and there just 20 feet away from me was a medium sized hawk perched in an aspen tree, being harassed by a pair of very angry flickers. We're guessing the hawk was near their nest. The hawk was one we're not familiar with. A few miles down the trail, we saw another hawk of the same species. We also saw a woodpecker we don't know, much larger than any woodpeckers in San Diego. We saw a lot of mountain bluebirds, too. Altogether the bird population in this area is much more diverse than anything we've seen in other places in this area.
Along the Rio Grande river, there are lots and lots of beaver ponds, most of which are obviously still being maintained. The geography is perfect for beavers: the river meanders through a large, relatively flat valley. Nearly every possible place for a beaver pond is occupied by one. Lots of them have ducks in them. All of them are surrounded by a rich flora, dominated by willows. The ponds make for very pretty and interesting travel, except for the bugs...
All the really good stuff ended as we approached the Rio Grande reservoir. The area along the road gets gradually more “civilized” as you go, with more and more people and houses. The reservoir itself is 40' or so below capacity, making for a large ring of unattractive area around the smaller-than-usual reservoir. Toward the dam (south end), we started running into areas burned in the recent fires – and the areas that weren't burned were filled with dead conifers, killed by drought and bark beetle. The aspens, interestingly, were still healthy and vibrant green. We saw numerous stands of aspen that had survived the fire, though they were surrounded by burned out lunar landscapes.
We headed north to Lake City, where we enjoyed a repeat of pulled pork and great coffee. Then we headed up Cinnamon Pass for home. Along the way we saw a big moose cow munching happily on willow in the Gunninson River valley. This trip was completely uneventful, aside from seeing a few deer. No rain, no hail, no jeeps over the edge, and nobody needed jumper cables :)
By the time we finally got back to the cabin, we were quite tired – 12 hours on the road will do that to you. My right leg muscles were sore from handling the throttle all day!
To answer an inquiry from a reader: the FJ has been performing flawlessly. It has done everything we asked of it, and we've asked a lot. Today's trip was a good example: the road between Stony Pass and the Rio Grande reservoir has many places that are quite rough. There are many very steep and narrow places, usually “paved” with big rocks. The FJ handled it all with ease, though we were thankful on many occasions for the armor (skid plates and rock rails) as we bumped and scraped along big rocks. There hasn't been any point, no matter how challenging the terrain, where we had any trouble at all with traction or handling. Between the tires, airing down, and the FJ's traction control and differential locks, everything we've run into has been easy – and safe – to deal with.
Race, our border collie, has recently taken a disliking to rough terrain. Every time we drive into something challenging, he starts going a little crazy. We have no idea why he suddenly developed this new behavior (about three days ago). It begins and ends very quickly as we move on and off rough terrain, and he shows no reluctance to get in the truck. He just doesn't like the rough stuff :)
The first hint that we were going to have a good wildlife day came just as we started up the switchbacks on the beginning of the Stony Pass road. We spotted an animal bounding up a slope just in front of us, quickly moving out of sight. It looked to us like a fisher, a large member of the weasel family. It was dark brown and black, with a long tail held flat to the ground while running, and it moved with the classic undulating motion of a weasel. We didn't get a good look at its head, darn it. Our identification of it as a fisher is questionable, however, because all the references we can find say that fishers don't live here. So we're not sure what it was!
Then we started seeing deer. Lots of deer! Most of the deer we sighted were does, but we did see a buck or two. No fawns. All looked healthy, though a few looked a bit thin. Just south of Stoney Pass, on the long stretch of switchbacks through meadows that have lots of irises in them, we saw a buck off the road just above us. When the buck ran, he flushed a large bird. I walked up where the buck was, and flushed a large female grouse – first one we've seen here.
As we came to the bottom of those iris-filled meadows, we had the wildlife-spotting highlight of the day: Debbie spotted something moving in a meadow across the canyon, at about a mile and a half away. In the binoculars, we could see that it was a herd of elk. Elk! First we've seen on this trip. The herd was crossing an open stretch where we could see them, and we watched for 15 minutes or so as 30 to 40 animals crossed that stretch (we weren't counting). There were at least 10 calves, most of which scampered across the open area faster than the adults.
At one point as we got closer to the Rio Grande reservoir, we heard some birds fussing about above us. I poked my head out the window, and there just 20 feet away from me was a medium sized hawk perched in an aspen tree, being harassed by a pair of very angry flickers. We're guessing the hawk was near their nest. The hawk was one we're not familiar with. A few miles down the trail, we saw another hawk of the same species. We also saw a woodpecker we don't know, much larger than any woodpeckers in San Diego. We saw a lot of mountain bluebirds, too. Altogether the bird population in this area is much more diverse than anything we've seen in other places in this area.
Along the Rio Grande river, there are lots and lots of beaver ponds, most of which are obviously still being maintained. The geography is perfect for beavers: the river meanders through a large, relatively flat valley. Nearly every possible place for a beaver pond is occupied by one. Lots of them have ducks in them. All of them are surrounded by a rich flora, dominated by willows. The ponds make for very pretty and interesting travel, except for the bugs...
All the really good stuff ended as we approached the Rio Grande reservoir. The area along the road gets gradually more “civilized” as you go, with more and more people and houses. The reservoir itself is 40' or so below capacity, making for a large ring of unattractive area around the smaller-than-usual reservoir. Toward the dam (south end), we started running into areas burned in the recent fires – and the areas that weren't burned were filled with dead conifers, killed by drought and bark beetle. The aspens, interestingly, were still healthy and vibrant green. We saw numerous stands of aspen that had survived the fire, though they were surrounded by burned out lunar landscapes.
We headed north to Lake City, where we enjoyed a repeat of pulled pork and great coffee. Then we headed up Cinnamon Pass for home. Along the way we saw a big moose cow munching happily on willow in the Gunninson River valley. This trip was completely uneventful, aside from seeing a few deer. No rain, no hail, no jeeps over the edge, and nobody needed jumper cables :)
By the time we finally got back to the cabin, we were quite tired – 12 hours on the road will do that to you. My right leg muscles were sore from handling the throttle all day!
To answer an inquiry from a reader: the FJ has been performing flawlessly. It has done everything we asked of it, and we've asked a lot. Today's trip was a good example: the road between Stony Pass and the Rio Grande reservoir has many places that are quite rough. There are many very steep and narrow places, usually “paved” with big rocks. The FJ handled it all with ease, though we were thankful on many occasions for the armor (skid plates and rock rails) as we bumped and scraped along big rocks. There hasn't been any point, no matter how challenging the terrain, where we had any trouble at all with traction or handling. Between the tires, airing down, and the FJ's traction control and differential locks, everything we've run into has been easy – and safe – to deal with.
Race, our border collie, has recently taken a disliking to rough terrain. Every time we drive into something challenging, he starts going a little crazy. We have no idea why he suddenly developed this new behavior (about three days ago). It begins and ends very quickly as we move on and off rough terrain, and he shows no reluctance to get in the truck. He just doesn't like the rough stuff :)
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| Waterfall along the road in Stony Pass with a five second time exposure... |
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| A little higher on the same waterfall... |
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| And a little higher yet, this time a seven second exposure... |
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| Through the aspens between Stony Pass and the Rio Grande reservoir... |
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| On a rock road cut, at about 11,000 feet south of Stony Pass... |
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| On that same rock road cut, and hard to photograph in deep shade... |
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| Just north of the Rio Grande reservoir... |
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| A snowshoe hare, as good as it's going to get with a wide angle lens... |
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| Looking toward the Rio Grande reservoir, overlooking a beaver pond (see the lodge?)... |
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| The widening valley on the approach to the Rio Grande reservoir, along the Rio Grande river... |
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| Looking toward Animas Forks from just below Cinnamon Pass... |