Saturday, July 10, 2021

Dinosaurs East of the 100th Meridian

East bound through Nebraska, along parts of the Oregon and California Trails, Pony Express Route, and the Lincoln Highway.

Bidding a fond farewell to the Cobblestone Inn, and the 1909 Morrill County Courthouse just next door, the road quickly unfolded under clear skies.  Storms had raged all around and along the intended path for this day, throughout the entire evening.  Bridgeport had escaped unscathed with no more than a show of lightening overnight.  Small cumulus appeared randomly, which would grow quietly and persistently, stalking travels of the day.


An hour into the journey homeward, Ash Hollow State Historical Park appeared suddenly around a bend, seemingly out of nowhere.  The site has a history that extends more than 3 millennia. A small cave validates much of that journey through time. The cool sweet water spring it hosts made it a highly valued stop along the Oregon and California trails.  A turn of the century schoolhouse stands sentinel at the opposite end from the visitor center.  As well, a few blocks further down the road, the Windlass site shows off a typical homestead home of the time and ruts left by the wagon trains.  Grounds were inaccessible on this visit, so said tracks were not validated.


The original plan considered connecting with Interstate 80 and flying back as quickly as possible.  Mood, coupled with voices from the elders gathered around the campfire the night before, discouraged those ambitions. Massive construction efforts were underway in the region, suggesting the current trajectory was likely more temporally profitable. Two lane blacktop across the never ending farmland first offered up an abandoned rest area.  The space gave a moment to reflect, while gazing out across the fields to Lake McConaughy on the distant horizon.  Followed up by a good stretch across gravel made for a good morning on the road and put things in the right perspective.


The Lincoln Highway presented a few interesting points, along this very first transcontinental roadway specifically laid out for automobiles. The preferred route for anyway wanting to cross the 5,000 kilometres from New York City to San Francisco, it kept folks out of the mud, allowed things to move faster, and contributed significantly to mass human migrations across the United States.


Long before all of that, an 1854 fur trading post and ranch house on the Oregon Trail became an important station for the Pony Express.  It served routes west for the Overland Trail Stage after that, retiring as a dwelling some time around 1931.  Relocated from its original site to Ehmen Park in Gothenburg, it is dedicated to "All Pioneers Who Passed This Way, To Win and Hold the West."


Cumulus piled up all around all day, threatening yet more wind, rain, and hail.  Two systems swirled around our location, tracking our moves.  Maneuvers were mostly successful.  We remained out in front of the situation for a good little while.


Arriving at the point where east meets west, the 100th Meridian west of Greenwich, the storm had gathered some speed and caught up to the refueling mission in Cozad.  Buckets of rain fell for a few minutes and reduced visibility to near zero, as we watched the tirade from the under the awning of a local station.


It all moved off as quickly as it had arrived and the sun poked in and out, as we passed through a variety of small towns that pepper the landscape.  One maintained their artillery openly, while all others kept it politely out of site.  A few other veterans kept their proudly on display in the back window gun rack; a sight not often seen these days.


Alda still struggled with effects of the storm from the night before.  Multiple power lines leaned toward the highway, while construction crews assessed the situation.  Efforts to ignore the interstate were strangled just after that, a little east of Grand Island.  It was not all that it was cracked up to be.  Agreeing the right decision had been made earlier to avoid the situation, a return to the two-lanes occurred with the most expediency possible.


That short stretch required to get to Lincoln left a longing for a little scenery.  Disengaging from the interstate encouraged a loop through Arbor Lodge State Historic Park for a small walkabout around a site this is becoming the perfect pit stop for chill reflection.


An infestation of dinosaurs nearby necessitated a return to the necessary evil of the high-speed blacktop though.  Time was waning and there is no quicker way anyhow.  Jumping across the state line into Iowa, the southbound journey along the interstate turned mostly uneventful.  


Storms that had raged around us the night before, and most of the day, had traveled our path throughout the night, landing in Kansas City for a time.  Cresting a hill south of St. Joseph, the trailing edge of a storm stood out clearly on the horizon and, according to our source on the ground, currently pounding the city.   A summary end to the entire adventure.  Chasing the storm away in this skirmish, the sun quickly shined upon home base, just in time for arrival. 



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Further Reading

Nebraska Game & Parks

Lincoln Highway Association



Nebraska Game & Parks

Friday, July 9, 2021

Hardscrabble to Nebraska


Out of Colorado into Nebraska, through Scotts Bluff National Monument and Chimney Rock National Historic Site and a hail storm.



Successfully navigating the fringe of chaos in Colorado Springs, the first encounter of the day appeared just west of Limon in Colorado.  The historic Matheson brick schoolhouse from the early 1900s stood solemn on the sunny hillside.  Not much could be gathered about this location just now, but give the internet time. 


The trail turned north from Limon, through the wide open spaces of northeast Colorado.  The view into Nebraska changed only with a few minor buttes and the addition of a storm looking to intercept our route.  Escaping the hail-bearing load seemed improbable just north of Kimball.  Fortunately, it arrived at the turn before us and was unable to stop and sailed off to the south. We countered with a turn to the north, permitting only a momentary peppering of the transport.


Storms brewing all around, forecast for the afternoon into evening, hail and high winds were promised to those that remained for the credits.  Atop Scotts Bluff National Monument confirmed much of that already communicated by radio  The bluff area stood in sunshine throughout this investigation. A strange weather phenomenon is suspect.

The clouds eventually intensified in the area, too insistent to be deterred by any odd circumstance of wind currents, encouraging departure.  Chimney Rock stood waiting down the road, after a pause for refueling and refreshment.


Words of encourage at the station enabled a moment of amusement.  Sound advice such as this seems much more appropriate than the useless banners and advertising that typically appear at the pump.


Out in front of the leading edge of the storm yielded just enough time to drop by Chimney Rock National Historic Site; not much though.   The weather was definitely taking a dramatic turn and a road of fine dirt led out to the monument.  It would be a sloppy, muddy mess in storm and stranded there could prove a disadvantage to plans for the evening.  The visit out to the site lasted only a handful of minutes and just as the vehicle hit the pavement, the first few drips assailed us from above.  


Sprinting quickly to the east in an effort to get back in front of the situation, no more drops fell as quickly as the first had fallen.  Authorities crackled over the radio that the worst of the storm was then passing to the north, through  Hemingford and Alliance, paralleling our route.  Reports of high winds, the potential for tornado activity, and rather large size hail were distributed evenly, and conveniently in that particular location.


Bridgeport, the final resting place for the evening, remained out of the path of most everything that night. Enjoying ice cream at a walk-up later in the evening, locals shared that the weather always does that in those parts, then offered up photos of the hail stones their children had forwarded.  The decision to forego Carhenge in Alliance had been a wise one indeed.

. . .

Further Reading

National Park Service

National Park Foundation

Alliance Times-Herald

Thursday, July 8, 2021

Golf Surrounded by Storms

A day on the course.


A long trip looming on the horizon of the next morning, a relaxed afternoon seemed in order. Formal dinner arrangements were slated for the evening. Otherwise, no plans for mountain excursions or creeping through the forest were made. A different sort of hiking around was in order, with Pikes Peak and the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains as a backdrop.


Taking time to get our act together, tee time occurred somewhere around Noon, kicking off a good round of 18 holes at Sumo Golf Village near Florence.  It could not have been a better day for it. Mostly clear, with highs in the mid 30°s C, little to no humidity or wind made for little effort at a good game, finishing under par.  While Storms swirled around the mountains throughout most of the day, none bothered our party.


The game finished just in time to clean up and head over to Quincy's Steak & Spirits in Florence, treating our hosts to a good meal at a location they had not yet tried out.  Other considerations came into play later in the evening, and a trip to a little dive in Cañon City offered further relaxation and an opportunity to meet a few new folks.  

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Further Reading

Florence, CO

Florence, CO

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

A Return to the Gorge and Skyline


Exploring the remodeled Royal Gorge Park with a pause at Skyline Drive.



Wrangling a few critters and getting crew and equipment aligned, the expedition set out to rediscover the Royal Gorge.  It had been consumed by fire in 2013 and had not been visited since a few years before that situation.


The gorge itself looks no different now than it did then.  There are likely subtle nuances that only a geologist or a forester would note.  The average spectator observes the deep crevasse in the earth is unchanged.  The crags that line the walls appear unmarred and traffic flows above and beyond the bridge as must as before, with a few exceptions.


New structures grace the park, seemingly more in line with the dangers of ignition.  Stone and paved aprons surround many of them and their general build suggests easy and affordable replacement.  The carousel is now on the opposite side of the river too, with a new amphitheater, kids playground, and a new way to see the canyon.


Two of our explorers tested this particular new feature, billed as the highest zipline in the United States, rising nearly 400 meters above the Arkansas River.  They arrived safely at the opposite bank and highly recommended enjoying the trip.  Those that remained firmly on land to capture their journey were intrigued, but settled for their word.


The view from the bridge is spectacular as ever and quite enough for most.  If one lingers long enough, the Royal Gorge Railroad will cruise by.  This used to be an up-close and personal event, accessible by simply taking the incline railway to the bottom.  Unfortunately, the incline is conspicuously absent.  The remodel did not include re-installation of that item, likely the most favorite for most.


Rafters and those braving the waters on kayak are often seen cruising by, attempting to keep themselves within the confines of the raft, while navigating their way around massive boulders in the stream below.  It can be a perilous adventure and not for the faint of heart.


A new theater showcases a cinematic history of the gorge.  Outside the doors, another relic from the old days rests in silence.  The miniature Royal Gorge Railroad once took sightseers on a small tour of the area, to include a visit to the edge.  That is no more, as well.  The movie inside is fascinating though, with some fantastic footage from the early days and the fire that wiped most of the park out.


Walking back across the bridge, the feat of engineering across this geology is amazing in it's own right.  Years of automobile traffic, apparently no longer permitted, and the pedestrian traffic seem to have had little effect on the situation.  The fire only provided space for re-imagining everything.


Our crew began the journey back to base camp, having had enough of leisure activities for the day.  A brief pause for sustenance set everything in the right frame of mind, enabling another pause along Skyline Drive to inspect some relatively new signage about the dinosaur tracks there.  Apparently, this information has been readily available for quite a few years.  It is surprising how much escapes attention sometimes.  A narrow road across a hogback can down that.


Arriving at base camp, there was very little left to do with the day.  Relaxing to watch the sun burn out of the sky in brilliant shades of orange seemed the most appropriate way to end another fun day of exploring this region of Colorado.

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Tracing Newlin Creek

Conquering the Newlin Creek Trail within San Isabel National Forest.

The solo expedition out to Newlin Creek Trail proved mostly uneventful. Skies began clear, with a few clouds loitering about, on a day with temperatures lingering in the 30°C range. Thunderstorms were expected late in the afternoon, so it was somewhat imperative to get up the trail and back down by around 4 pm.


Dry and  partially deserted farmland quickly faded into forested foothills surrounding the Wet Mountains.  The roads quickly disintegrated from blacktop to gravel, and finally, to dirt.  Beyond the entrance to Florence Mountain Park manifested more decay,  showcasing ruts approximately 50 centimetres in depth.  The low clearance vehicle of the particular transport in use was not exactly equipped to handle such a scenario.


It only took a moment or two to assess the situation and identify a method for carefully navigating the transport through the scene, leveraging the banks of the runs so as to arrive unmolested at a shady parking for the trailhead. Signing the guess book and considering the prohibition on Greenback Cutthroat Trout, the 4 km expedition quickly launched into a forest of towering pines and grainte.


A somewhat sandy trail quickly changed to a wide packed earth path, slowly rising alongside a shallow rushing creek.  Aspens quaked all around and the pines seemingly launcher higher and higher into the sky. Sometimes thrown asunder, apparently by some storm or another but overall, nicely shading most of the passage.  


The first direct encounter with the stream turned out to be of the constructed variety.  Lying nearby, remnants of previous construction efforts stood at the ready for quick improvements or repairs.  It was obvious the latter was more likely the case for this crossing.  Spring runoff can be fierce.


Massive granite boulders lined the path as often as the tall pines, hinting at a completely random and unidentified hazard.  Fresh rockfall was not evident.  These rocks did simply not grow this way.


Along the trail, water poured and cascaded across and sometimes out of the rock formations.  The rush of water could be heard for a good portion of the way.  None of the pools or falls were deep or particularly spectacular, only amusing in their own way.


The trail wound back and forth across the creek numerous times with no further attempts to construct passage across.  It was not really needed. Nature provided all the raw materials for short and shallow hops across and others had already leveraged those parts as needed.


Nearing the final destination, flora became more abundant.  Fauna remained quietly out of sight.  Birds could be heard in the trees.  No others dared showed their tails.  While only passing a handful of other adventurers along the way, that remained too much for many species.


The sawmill sat abandoned, right where Nathaniel Herrick left it.  Rusting quietly into the surrounding landscape it is an ode to hard work and ambition.  Manufactured by the Great Western Foundry of Leavenworth and hauled these 4 km up the mountain, one can only guess at the blood, sweat, and tears that went into that effort.


The trail continued on beyond the mill and undergrowth became much more dense.  A clearing expanded to contain a massive granite outcrop at the 4.8 km mark.  Shaded by towering pines all around, it produced the perfect location to stretch out for a moment of relaxation and consideration of the sights, sounds, and efforts of the day.


The journey back along the same path found leaves of the forest slowly stopped reflecting any light and things began to dim.  The promised rain was coming.  It was time to put the camera away and quicken the pace.  Fortunately, the return trip downhill only took about a third as long as the way up.

The pace proved not quite quick enough.  In the last half kilometre, the clouds unleashed their payload.  In most situations, on a hot day such as this, there would have been no objection.  This is a flash flood area though, and entry to trailhead had required maneuvering around some fairly deep trenches.  Careful navigation was required to complete that objective, along with several other minor flash floods crossing the paved roadway portion.  This most perilous portion of the adventure finally ended at the main highway; ironically, so did the rain.

. . .

Further Reading

Rusting Trailside Dreams
Newline Creek Trail and the Nathaniel Herrick Sawmill
Medium

San Isabel National Forest
US Forest Service

Colorado Central Magazine


Newline Creek Trail Sawmill


Nathaniel Herrick dreamed of forging a life for his family in the mountains of central Colorado. Working hard to achieve that goal, it slipped from his dying fingers the same year he got started. The Newline Creek Trail follows the path of his work to the site of his ambition, though very little evidence remains.


In 1887, Coal and silver mining camps littered the landscape of Colorado and companies running these operations needed timber for various construction efforts. Nathaniel saw an opportunity, deciding he could provide for those companies and, at the same time, his family.

Signing a chattel mortgage for nine hundred dollars in 1887, he set out to purchase equipment and tools needed to get his business off the ground. Horses, mules, a couple of log wagons, and a Studebaker wagon with log chains were included in the inventory.


Under the shadow of a ridge near Stull Mountain, Nathaniel began setting up the planned timber harvesting and milling operation. A place to live and work was cleared about 4 kilometres up Newline Creek; all that remained to do, clearing and grading a wagon road up to the location.

Hard labor built a path wide enough to transport essential operating equipment to the site more than 500 meters up from the valley floor. It also served as a clear and reliable path for the return of manufactured materials from the sawmill back down the mountain.


Equipment moved to the site included a fairly large steam boiler and flywheel, manufactured by the Great Western Foundry of Leavenworth. Cradled by brick and stone walls running the length of the boiler, it would be the backbone of the operation.

Not long after getting all of this in place and beginning operations, Nathaniel died in the same year he began work on the project. Leaving a wife and children unable to continue his work, the forest reclaimed the land.


This section of the San Isabel Forest in the Wet Mountains now hosts Newlin Creek Trail, which wanders along some of the original path Nathaniel cleared 134 years ago. Until reaching the mill site, evidence of his hard work and determination are hardly visible though.


The 4 kilometre trail begins somewhat sandy. It gradually changes to courser material from the surrounding area, packed earth in other places, with a few rocky spots sprinkled in along the way. Most of the length is shaded by massive pines and surrounded by sometimes even larger granite structures that solidified nearly two billion years ago.


Granite is important part of the landscape in this valley and along the creek, where it constantly recreates the series of small cascades running the length of the creek. The pools are not deep though, and the numerous crossings usually have some sort of structure enabling passage. There is one constructed bridge at the first crossing. All of the others are improvised.


The trail leads directly to the installation site of the boiler, and where it remains, rusting and perched upon a crumbling stone and brick cradle. Scattered around the boiler, parts hide in the brush and mountain wildflowers, slowly rusting into the landscape. The fireplace from the cabin also stands just a short distance away, as well as some milled boards.


The path continues beyond the mill site, through denser brush, to a large granite outcrop near the top of the ridge. The trail becomes obscured in this area. An outcrop offers an excellent view of the treetops in the valley, with nearby ridges in the distance, and lacking maps, good place to turn around.


Accessing the site passes by Florence Mountain Park and at the end of County Road 15 in Fremont County. Flash flooding is a concern in this area during sudden rainstorms. The road contains deep gouges and is likely impassable during wet conditions, except to vehicles appropriate to that sort of situation.

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further reading

US National Forest Service

Colorado Central Magazine

Find A Grave Memorial

Spanish Peaks County


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