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| Looking south at the Sangre de Cristo Range of the Rocky Mountains from US-50 along the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area |
Colorado / Utah Road Trip Day 2: Florence to Gunnison
Google foiled us again though, winding us along CO-115. It is a fine route out of Florence, enabling us to pause for a moment at the Prospect Heights Jailhouse, and muse momentarily over our random re-discovery of this historic piece of architecture.
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| Prospect Heights Jailhouse |
Arriving at the end of this route, we found ourselves deep in the heart of Cañon City. Our intended initial destination was now 12 km east of us, in contrast with our westerly heading for the day, rather than along the way.
The cascade of traffic lights standing between our desire and us caused a rethink of our plans only briefly, but we decided it would be worth it. We had not seen the memorial since it had first been installed, and a member of the family had made a rather interesting contribution to the site since that time.
Arriving at the memorial, we immediately noticed there had been several significant contributions since our last visit. Where only one lonely F-4 Phantom and a small wall of names had once stood, several military vehicles now occupied the space, and many more names added to the wall. Additionally, dominating the scene, the copper objects of our desire reflected brightly in the sun for the world to see.
“In God We Trust” stood tall and proud in the brightly lit morning, enamored with thousands of pennies restating the phrase. A red granite boulder placed neatly at the end of the phrase punctuated the remark at the end of this monumental effort. It was a fine sight indeed, but I am not sure I would have had the patience for all of those pennies. I suppose they had to be used for something though.
We lingered long enough to admire the work and take a few photos, but a typical clear day in the rain shadow of the Southern Rocky Mountains meant things were going to get hot. The temperature was already moving quickly in that direction, so we moved towards the opposite.
Not wanting to delay excessively, we only made a couple of other stops as we made our way through Cañon City. We needed provisions to last us through the day, and my traveling companion had an earnest desire to capture a photograph with one of the first dinosaurs she discovered on this journey, along with her traveling companion, a miniature of the same.
We passed quickly through the break in the razorback bordering the western edge of town, following the road north, appreciating the effort of the Arkansas River in establishing that gateway at the northern end of Wet Mountains. I have always thought that a peculiar name for a mountain range that are not particularly wet.
After a short jaunt across high plains foothills, we soon dropped sharply down into the Arkansas River valley, home to the Arkansas River Headwaters Recreation Area. This is always an amazing journey, winding alongside a river with spectacular views on all side of the Sangre de Cristo and Mosquito ranges of the Rocky Mountains. We had never taken any time to pause along this route previously, but certainly did on this occasion.
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| Fires ranging in the mountains south of US-50 near Salida |
We noted a few fires raging towards the south, in either the Sangre de Cristo or the La Garita ranges. I do not recall our exact position at the time of photographing. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of folks fleeing by raft down the river though. We waved to them a couple of times, shouting out greetings, but they were much too engrossed in avoiding one massive outcropping of rocks or another, or intent on ensuring they were not swept away by the swift and relentless current. This form of transport seemed peculiar at the time, as the roadways were not congested, and likely would have been a more swift route away from the blaze; to each his own, I suppose.
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| Rafting on the Arkansas River |
We discovered this plot only later, after having returned to the highway. It did offer the opportunity to stop and photograph one of widely recognized and best maintained pieces of architecture in the town of Howard. It proudly proclaimed that it was the town’s very first church, built in 1898 and maintained in its most suitable state by the State Historical Fund.
Salida appeared just around the next bend, and we discussed stopping for lunch, but became so distracted by the suddenness of civilization that by the time we reached the other side, we had yet to come to a firm decision. Doubling back, and entering old downtown, we almost wished we had not.
The local Arts Festival was in full swing. Between traffic and citizens wandering aimlessly about, it was nearly impossible to navigate the narrow streets; even more so, to locate an appropriate location to park the vehicle. We did though, and enjoyed food and a local brew from the World Famous Moonlight Pizza & Brewpub, even though we had never heard of it before.
Satisfied with sufficient consumption of Pizza and Beverage, and later Ice Cream, we left the Arkansas River to find its way home, and began the climb into the Sawatch Range, to Monarch Pass and the Great Divide at 3.4 km above sea level.
We arrived at the sign marking this awesome feature on the landscape of North America. Noting the carriage ride operational, obtained our boarding pass for a ride to the top of Monarch Ridge South. It seems there is no associated peak; rather, one long 5 km ridgeline. This particular end of the ridge resembles a large caldera, but I am fairly certain that any danger of volcanic activity is long gone.
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| Storms moving across Lime Ridge |
The ride top was a white-knuckle experience. Storms were moving across many of the closest peaks to the West and the North, and the wind whipped the little carriage. I chose the wrong seat for the whole affair, and quickly became aware of our immediate peril. Although my partner assured me that even should the carriage fall, we hovered only six or seven meters off the ground. I quickly reminded her of the laundry ride that would ensue for another kilometer after that.
We arrived at the top without incident though, with only minor damage to neurotransmitters. There is nothing particularly unique about this part of the journey, except to those of us that do not live in, or are constantly surrounded by, such beauty as is found being among these massive peaks. Even in late July, snow still rested easily across the tops of many of the peaks, refusing to let go of their winter costume.
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| Looking out at the Mountains from Monarch Ridge (perhaps, facing west) |
Wandering about the ridge, and then standing in awe of the scenery for a little while, we noted the storms seen earlier had started to make their way towards us. Rather than be forced to return down a muddy trail in a deluge, we opted for an early departure along the same carriage; this time, I chose the seat facing uphill and gave my partner full view of the impending doom.
We followed Agate Creek down the hill until it met with Tomichi Creek, and then followed that for the remainder of the way to Gunnison. Enjoying the scenery along the way, we did not really stop. It was getting late in the day and the small two and half hour journey had taken 6 hours to this point.
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| Gunnison Cemetery Memorial |
We did pause to pay our respects at the Gunnison Cemetery on the outskirts of town. It is not that we knew anyone staying there, but sometimes you can stumble across the most interesting things in an old cemetery. That was not the case this time, although they did have a nice little church and memorial dating to 1865.
A few minutes later, we finally landed in the small town of Gunnison, our first stop west of the Great Divide, and quickly located our motel. Continuing our trend of staying with a locally operated roadside motel, we were not disappointed in that choice in the least.
The ABC Motel was perfectly suited to our needs. Perfectly positioned, just two short blocks from a main drag full of restaurants in one direction and the city park in the other, everything was within walking distance. Additionally, a “Wet Grocer” assured we our thirst would remain quenched, and our humor satisfied by exiting patrons.
While we only observed the outdoor floorshow in passing at the Wet Grocer, we took full advantage of our proximity to the other situations. Sunday nights are quiet in the little town though, and the walking we easily accepted initially, quickly became a chore.
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| Main Street Gunnison |
Walking down to Main Street, we found most places closed, and many of them tending towards the trendy. We ended up staking claim on the upper deck of the High Alpine Brewing Company, which provided for an excellent view of the main intersection. Aside from the obvious choices in beverages, the food followed the same design as many of the other establishments.
It was all good enough. We devoured our green leafy assignments, and enjoyed a malted beverage from their assortment. We were concerned for breakfast though. Oat and cranberry crusted coffee with a side of decaffeinated pancakes did not sound at all appetizing. However, walking about a bit more, we discovered the W Café, which promised an ordinary breakfast with ordinary coffee, without all the frills.
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| Western State Colorado Univserity Signage |
Satisfied that a real breakfast was easily within our grasp, we wandered down to the park next to Western State Colorado University. A performance scheduled for the evening was already in full swing. Most of the town appeared in attendance. I had been wondering where everyone was! We did not stay long, but enjoyed what we heard as we circumnavigated the park, before returning to our motel for a little time at the horizontal.
. . .
This is the second part of an 8 day journey into Colorado, across the Continental Divide, into Utah, and back again. The first part of this adventure is discussed in the story, Crossing Kansas into Colorado. In the next episode, we make the jump from Gunnison to Montrose; an easy drive on the third day that usually only takes an hour or so for most. We spent 9 hours getting there.
. . .
Further Reading
A memorial to a lost airman that puts trust in God above all
Beyond rafting the Arkansas River Playground in Colorado
A turn of the century home for the drunken and disorderly
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