Collecting Intangibles
In the morning of my first day in Colorado, Elantu took me to a favorite spot of hers in the San Isabel National Forest. A couple weeks earlier she had taken a writer from Backpacker magazine to that spot, and they spotted a grizzly (and the grizzly spotted them too!), the first one in that area in decades. She showed me where the bear was. She was sad that the rangers reported his departure back to where he came from, but I was openly delighted to know that I would definitely not be meeting any grizzlies. I practically danced with joy.
Elantu showed me where she always went to watch beavers, but there were no more beavers anywhere in the area. The grizzly ate them all.
We drove to Salida, walked along the Arkansas River, and visited some galleries, including a really intriguing little gallery run by Barbara Flynn. Her gallery is packed with little goodies, so no matter how long you stay, you keep running into something you missed the last time you looked.
That evening Elantu, Harold, Mike, and I went out to eat at Country Bounty, where we saw a rainbow and ate scrumptious elk meatloaf seasoned with juniper berries. We drove across Poncha Pass to Joyful Journeys hot springs, and the sky was absolutely incredible. There was a "sun dog" over the mountains: like a small spherical rainbow. We enjoyed the hot springs as well. Joyful Journeys had three soaking areas, one at 99 degrees, one at 104, and one at 108. Only Harold ventured into the hottest one. The rest of us soaked, looked at the mountains and the sunset,... An owl flew directly over us in hot pursuit of some prey.
We met interesting massage therapists who were in the area for a workshop. One guy was a little sanctimonious about not eating anything with a nervous system, and I think he made Elantu's whole evening because she could torment him with tales of plants screaming when harvested for food.
Mike and I both collect intangibles, things that don't clutter up our living spaces. He collects visits to hot springs; I collect memories of people.
By the end of the evening, all my crankiness had dissolved into the mineral water, and even Elantu was no longer remotely cranky, and she's legendary! (In a good way, of course.) She actually features as a cranky character in someone's science fiction novel.
Back at the top of Poncha Pass, we pulled over to admire the night sky, where the entire belt of Milky Way dust was visible in a wide arc across the center of the sky. It was heart stopping. I had never had such a good view of the Milky Way before, and I could have stayed a lot longer than we did.
On my second day we made plans to visit St. Elmo, a historic ghost town. Elantu and Harold were taking some time to get ready, and Mike and I got antsy and took off in his 1965 Land Cruiser, of which he is obscenely and charmingly proud. Elantu had given me a copy of Sibley's bird guide, so on this day and every day after that, I busily identified every bird I saw, and was absurdly pleased with this exercise.
On the way to St. Elmo we saw a Stellar's Jay, which is a brilliant deep blue with black markings. It is a very elegant bird, and I suggested to Elantu that she draw a person as a Stellar's Jay, but I don't think she takes the idea seriously! In St. Elmo we saw a Western Peewee, which is a small, hyper gray bird that appears to be sporting a crewcut.
Elantu and Harold eventually showed up, and we looked at the houses in St. Elmo, which are still preserved and have people living in them. However, we spent most of the time sitting around feeding sunflower seeds to plump, greedy little rodents: chipmunks, squirrels, and ground squirrels. Harold took several pictures of Elantu covered in chipmunks, musing about what dishes she might cook with them now that she had gained their trust.
Mike and I decided to drive up toward Hancock pass, while Elantu and Harold rested and read books for a while. We didn't have time to drive all the way up the pass, but we saw some mining ruins, including a building that had broken clear in half as it slid partway down a mountainside. Now, one of Mike's books rates back roads in Colorado on a 10-point scale based on roughness, exposure, and difficulty. 1 is the easiest. We were on a 2, which is bad enough that although I could drive my Camry on it, I wouldn't want to because I would worry about screwing up the alignment. 6 is about as rough as Mike ever likes to drive on.
Completely innocent of what was in store for us, I made known my burning desire to drive up to see the Mary Murphy Mine, which was the chief source of revenue for the old town of St. Elmo. Mike obligingly turned onto the one-mile road to the mine, which looked like about a 3 in roughness, but which quickly transformed into a 5 (we looked it up later). There was nowhere to turn around for about half a mile, so we bumped and bounced up this pile of rocks that qualified as a road only in the sense that there were no trees in our path. My head was banging against the headrest, and I was laughing, and I had to say that this road had the most beautiful view we had seen all day. We were looking down a steep dropoff to a narrow streambed and some ruined wooden buildings. The roof had caved in on one building so that it looked like it was upside down. I wanted to go ahead and drive or walk all the way to the mine, but we really didn't have time because we had to meet Elantu and Harold at the Mt. Princeton Hot Springs.So we lurched and lumbered back down that outrageous excuse for a road, and we headed on down to the hot springs.
Mt. Princeton Hot Springs has two full-size swimming pools, one of which is quite hot, probably 102 degrees. The other pool is actually for swimming, and it's about 90 degrees. In addition, there's a river that runs right past. You can walk down to the river and settle into a pool near a spout pouring runoff from the hot pools into the river, and you arrange rocks and sand to admit only as much freezing river water as you want, to set the temperature of your rock grotto to whatever suits you. Then you settle down to watch the rapids dance past at eye level while you stay comfortably warm and cozy.
Elantu showed me where she always went to watch beavers, but there were no more beavers anywhere in the area. The grizzly ate them all.
We drove to Salida, walked along the Arkansas River, and visited some galleries, including a really intriguing little gallery run by Barbara Flynn. Her gallery is packed with little goodies, so no matter how long you stay, you keep running into something you missed the last time you looked.
That evening Elantu, Harold, Mike, and I went out to eat at Country Bounty, where we saw a rainbow and ate scrumptious elk meatloaf seasoned with juniper berries. We drove across Poncha Pass to Joyful Journeys hot springs, and the sky was absolutely incredible. There was a "sun dog" over the mountains: like a small spherical rainbow. We enjoyed the hot springs as well. Joyful Journeys had three soaking areas, one at 99 degrees, one at 104, and one at 108. Only Harold ventured into the hottest one. The rest of us soaked, looked at the mountains and the sunset,... An owl flew directly over us in hot pursuit of some prey.
We met interesting massage therapists who were in the area for a workshop. One guy was a little sanctimonious about not eating anything with a nervous system, and I think he made Elantu's whole evening because she could torment him with tales of plants screaming when harvested for food.
Mike and I both collect intangibles, things that don't clutter up our living spaces. He collects visits to hot springs; I collect memories of people.
By the end of the evening, all my crankiness had dissolved into the mineral water, and even Elantu was no longer remotely cranky, and she's legendary! (In a good way, of course.) She actually features as a cranky character in someone's science fiction novel.
Back at the top of Poncha Pass, we pulled over to admire the night sky, where the entire belt of Milky Way dust was visible in a wide arc across the center of the sky. It was heart stopping. I had never had such a good view of the Milky Way before, and I could have stayed a lot longer than we did.
On my second day we made plans to visit St. Elmo, a historic ghost town. Elantu and Harold were taking some time to get ready, and Mike and I got antsy and took off in his 1965 Land Cruiser, of which he is obscenely and charmingly proud. Elantu had given me a copy of Sibley's bird guide, so on this day and every day after that, I busily identified every bird I saw, and was absurdly pleased with this exercise.
On the way to St. Elmo we saw a Stellar's Jay, which is a brilliant deep blue with black markings. It is a very elegant bird, and I suggested to Elantu that she draw a person as a Stellar's Jay, but I don't think she takes the idea seriously! In St. Elmo we saw a Western Peewee, which is a small, hyper gray bird that appears to be sporting a crewcut.
Elantu and Harold eventually showed up, and we looked at the houses in St. Elmo, which are still preserved and have people living in them. However, we spent most of the time sitting around feeding sunflower seeds to plump, greedy little rodents: chipmunks, squirrels, and ground squirrels. Harold took several pictures of Elantu covered in chipmunks, musing about what dishes she might cook with them now that she had gained their trust.
Mike and I decided to drive up toward Hancock pass, while Elantu and Harold rested and read books for a while. We didn't have time to drive all the way up the pass, but we saw some mining ruins, including a building that had broken clear in half as it slid partway down a mountainside. Now, one of Mike's books rates back roads in Colorado on a 10-point scale based on roughness, exposure, and difficulty. 1 is the easiest. We were on a 2, which is bad enough that although I could drive my Camry on it, I wouldn't want to because I would worry about screwing up the alignment. 6 is about as rough as Mike ever likes to drive on.
Completely innocent of what was in store for us, I made known my burning desire to drive up to see the Mary Murphy Mine, which was the chief source of revenue for the old town of St. Elmo. Mike obligingly turned onto the one-mile road to the mine, which looked like about a 3 in roughness, but which quickly transformed into a 5 (we looked it up later). There was nowhere to turn around for about half a mile, so we bumped and bounced up this pile of rocks that qualified as a road only in the sense that there were no trees in our path. My head was banging against the headrest, and I was laughing, and I had to say that this road had the most beautiful view we had seen all day. We were looking down a steep dropoff to a narrow streambed and some ruined wooden buildings. The roof had caved in on one building so that it looked like it was upside down. I wanted to go ahead and drive or walk all the way to the mine, but we really didn't have time because we had to meet Elantu and Harold at the Mt. Princeton Hot Springs.So we lurched and lumbered back down that outrageous excuse for a road, and we headed on down to the hot springs.
Mt. Princeton Hot Springs has two full-size swimming pools, one of which is quite hot, probably 102 degrees. The other pool is actually for swimming, and it's about 90 degrees. In addition, there's a river that runs right past. You can walk down to the river and settle into a pool near a spout pouring runoff from the hot pools into the river, and you arrange rocks and sand to admit only as much freezing river water as you want, to set the temperature of your rock grotto to whatever suits you. Then you settle down to watch the rapids dance past at eye level while you stay comfortably warm and cozy.
Labels: travel
posted by Margo at 10:15 PM
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