A High-Country Wandering Detour

In the weeks leading up to this grand adventure, no rain had been in the forecast.  In fact, the area had been enduring drought conditions for quite some time.  The very week before all indications were that the drought for this area would continue throughout our stay.  That all changed a few days before our departure, with chances of rain increasing exponentially with every passing day.  It arrived today, with a vengeance.  It was not pouring but it was persistent, and plans for hiking the trail up to Brown's Creek Falls were foiled.  Driving over to the trailhead, we thought we could stare it down but the longer we stayed, the more insistent the rain.

A hike into higher elevations under a persistent, though not particularly heavy rain, is probably not a great idea, as prepared as we were.  We had emergency rain gear but not anything that would ensure that being soaked for four or five hours was a pleasant experience.  We abandoned the effort in favor of a hot cup of coffee in Buena Vista and rallied alternative plans.

Coffee seemed to make everything right again and after reviewing weather maps and finding that the edge of the rain lay only an hour or so north, we decided to go wandering about seeking distraction in our usual way in that direction.  We diverged from the highway in order to pass through the Midland Tunnels first, and decided to just continue on that dirt road back to the highway.  That led us to some beautiful scenery and the historic Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad span across the Arkansas River.  It offered some protection from the constantly dripping environment.

We wandered north along US-24, pausing for this and that curiosity along the way.  The rain slacked off significantly and mostly paused about the time we saw the sign for Independence Pass, so we decided to pursue that obstacle.  It was not until we began to head west into the Twin Lakes area that the rain finally began to completely subside.  Our new favorite radio station out of Salida assured us that any break from rain and/or snow was only temporary for the afternoon.  Snow would be a fact later in the day for those sustaining 3 km or more in altitude.

The mission to discover the sun proved successful in the town of Twin Lakes, while wandering about the braided stream delta area near the visitor center.  It evaporated as quickly as it appeared too, leaving us wondering if the rain had caught up to us again.

It did not, though we could tell that it continued to torment all points south of our existence.  Pushing on, we soon found ourselves standing on the Top of the Rockies, 3,686 meters above sea level at Independence Pass.  This elevation remains an unparalleled experience for me.  Everything seems crisper and clearer at these heights, or maybe it is just the natural high brought on by the general lack of oxygen.

My comrade took the wheelhouse for the ride back down to the Twin Lakes area.  I thought somehow it would be less of a white-knuckle journey than the trip up the hill.  However, I neglected to take into account that I would find myself on the same side of the road staring down into that same abyss.  Pausing at Willis Gulch to collect ourselves, or rather myself, the area offered up a beautiful assortment of colors not just in the trees but through the water too.

Eventually, we made our way back to Buena Vista to play a little game of "Cat and Mouse" with our meal plans for the evening.  We had it all worked out to go one place, then saw another place that looked interesting, but we went with the original plan, which turned up closed.  Heading back to the distraction known as Sorelle Delicatessen, we were greeted enthusiastically by staff five minutes from closing.  They graced us with more than we ordered and quickly sent us on our way back to our little cabin.  Along the way, I racked up yet another historic schoolhouse for the map.

The meatball sandwich did not have a chance, once it was unwrapped.  The Chicken Bacon Ranch was received much the same attention.  Satisfied with that accomplishment, with a bit of sunlight left in the day, a stroll down the road to check on our white-tailed friends in the meadow seemed in order.  A few bucks were lingering and immediately noted my presence, though never budged from their space.

They went back to grazing after deciding there was no imminent threat, and I moved on down the road to just walk a bit.  Passing Mount Princeton Campground, I could hear rushing water and decided to investigate what I was hearing.  The pines can be tricky that way sometimes and sure enough, there was Chalk Creek rushing along at high speed.

There was not a lot of daylight left, so I rushed back to the cabin as fast as one could without running to capture my comrade and take her up to behold this force of nature.  She hesitated at first, being perfectly content with the reading that she had opted for, instead of the walk but finally gave in.  This time we drove up for a quick look around before the sun finally fell out of the sky, and the rain began again.

At the cabin, the rain returned, as if on cue, leaving very little to do.  Any chance of night outside by the fire pit was gone.  We should have covered the wood up yesterday.  That left the collection of "bored" games waiting patiently on the shelf.  Stratego would have been a fun new experience for my comrade, if all the pieces had been present.  Monopoly seemed a bit excessive for two people, so we settled with multiple rounds of Battleship before finally giving up for the evening, dreaming of encountering much less precipitation the next day.  The forecast held some hope for that.