Through two open windows and a tire swing

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here again with you and tonight for the first time ever from the Sooner State... O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A... Oklahoma! Specifically, we are camped on the shores of Fort Supply Lake (another creation of the fine folks at the US Army Corps of Engineers) in Fort Supply, Oklahoma.

Last night I was unable to share any pictures. The cell service at Clayton Lake State Park, New Mexico was so spotty that I was lucky to get the text update loaded for you. By this morning I couldn't even get email to load... the dispatch I sent to you was the last message out before the blackout. Phew!

So tonight we have more internet than we know what to do with. It's fast or famine on the highways of rural America. Let me share a few photo updates with you from the past couple of days. First off, here's a shot from the top of Monarch Pass taken yesterday at 11,300+ feet.

 

And a couple of street scenes from Salida, Colorado where we stopped yesterday for lunch and shopping.

  

Now, Mrs. C' hates it when I do this, but I'm thinking it helps tell our story. Here is another in the series I call "the Silver Cliche' Driving Experience" (she calls it the "Silver Cliche' about to get smacked by his wife" experience). This is somewhere in New Mexico or maybe the Oklahoma Panhandle... no, for sure New Mexico, I see bumps on the horizon.

 

And finally, a panorama from our campsite at Clayton Lake. 

 

Since the lake was created by humans by impounding a creek or stream (there can't be any rivers in NE New Mexico, it's too dry) it sits in what had been a valley cleared by flowing water. Hence the poor cell signal since we were in a bowl below the floor of otherwise flat plains. I'm thinking about inventing a cell phone booster antenna that includes a helium balloon that would lift a wire out of such depressions to allow contact with fellow humans.

So, overnight it got quite cool in NE NM... around 50 I'd guess. We buttoned up the Cliche' and ran the furnace to keep our Florida behinds at their natural temperature. The morning was high thin overcast and it warmed slowly. We were uninspired by the place and decided to head east!

Let me ask you to think about US maps you've seen through your life. Oklahoma has one of the strangest shapes of any state in the union. The Oklahoma Panhandle is that rectangular protrusion heading west from the main mass of the state along its northern boundary with Kansas. On most schoolbook maps it is so skinny that whatever pastel the rest of Oklahoma is painted on a particular map doesn't show in the panhandle because the width of the border lines is sufficient to account for its entire north-south expanse. In reality, it is 34 miles from north to south and 166 miles long. The Indians who lived here had lacrosse fields that were taller than that. In the 2010 US census the entire population of the three counties that make up the panhandle was 28,000. Historically, this piece of land was literally leftover. As each surrounding state or territory (Kansas, New Mexico, Texas and Colorado) set their boarders using natural features like rivers or human conceptions like lines of latitude and longitude there was a piece left on the cutting table. It sits between 37 and 37.5 degrees north latitude and 100 and 103 degrees west longitude. Evidently the five states had a game of musical chairs. Oklahoma lost and the leftover was stitched to its left edge. Now, Oklahoma looks like a torso facing the world with its right arm extended directly out from the shoulder. In an unfortunate metaphor, that creates an arm pit and that is precisely where we are camped tonight, just one county to the east of the pit itself.

Today's route worked out (with no planning or intent on my part in picking campsites) to drive us right down the middle of the Oklahoma panhandle without once touching Texas, Colorado or Kansas. It felt like we made a trick shot on our route from Utah to Florida. I had a thought of two boys practicing with their .22 rifle on a farm and one saying to the other "I bet I can shoot through the two open windows of the tool shed and the tire swing and hit a pop bottle on top of that fence post over there". That's basically our drive today... right down the middle.

So, enough analogies. I'm thinking you want to know what it's like here. I didn't take many pics the past few days. I'll mostly have to describe what we saw and did. You know that northeast New Mexico was pretty flat. It turns out we didn't know what flat was. The rare rises and undulations that disturbed the terrain yesterday afternoon gave up completely as we entered the panhandle of Oklahoma. This is range country. There were cattle grazing everywhere on range land a log the two lane state roads we drove. About every 10 miles there was a 5 degree turn to the left or right. Other than than I could have let the dog on my lap drive while I napped. The first town we went through was Boise City (they were reaching when they tacked "City" onto the town's name). I can only imagine that if they had a radio station there and if that radio station had a contest that gave away a dee-lux ski vacation to... oh... Kansas... that the winner might say upon receiving his prize "Well, Kansas certainly has the terrain for skiing". It's flat enough in the western panhandle to make anyplace else look like ski country. And sparsely populated, too. When we went through Boise City I had just shy of a half tank of gas. Knowing what we had been through to get there I stopped and filled up since I had doubts we'd see another station before I hit "E".

There was a strange occurrence that happened not once, but twice in this desolate land. Yesterday afternoon in Mew Mexico and again today in Oklahoma on state roads in flat, featureless land I saw debris in the road. Generally this means a hunk of truck tire or an unsuccessful four legged pedestrian... something like that. On two recent occasions we even saw rattlesnakes in the road. But yesterday and today we saw two lengths of stout rope. I'm guessing each was 3/4" or more diameter and 20' or so in length. What the heck? Mrs. C' put it together. In each case a poor soul finally realized the futility of living in such a place and made plans to end it all. Grabbing a suitable rope they headed out to find an equally suitable tree. They searched. And searched. And searched. Their sense of futility only increased. Realizing there was no suitable tree in either state they stepped in front of a passing cattle truck and all that's left is their rope. I think she might be right. Living in such a place could have that effect on a person.

Dead center in the panhandle was a town I had actually heard of. Guymon. It is the gleaming jewel of the panhandle and is home to over one out of every three "Panhandlers" (I doubt they actually call themselves that, but I'm too lazy to look it up, so that's what I'm calling the 28,000 souls who inhabit this scrap of land). We turned once again to TripAdvisor to see what's cooking in Guymon since it was lunch time. We had crossed back into Central time, so it was almost 1:30 PM local when we picked between two restaurants. One was a steak house and the other was a Spanish/Mexican/Filipino fusion restaurant. I know. I said the same thing. However, that restaurant, called "The Galleon",  had the only perfect record I have ever seen for restaurant reviews on TripAdvisor... a perfect "5"... albeit with only 8 reviews. We decided to go for it. We hit their front door at 1:50 PM and there was literally nobody in the place which was prepared to seat about 120. Ouch. I never wear a tee shirt while traveling, but today I had one on with a line drawing of an AirStream, and cargo shorts, and a ball cap that said "Yellowstone". Mrs. C' was much better dressed but still, together we looked unworthy to enter this restaurant which was decorated to receive the elite of Guymon (whoever they might be and however they may dress). They treated us warmly and we were seated. We ordered some things we had heard of (table made guacamole and chips) and some we had not including Chicken inasal a la brasa and Almondigas. It was delightful. We got talking with the manager and our server about the restaurant, it's philosophy, how they've only been open a few months, etc.. Nice folks, a great find and yet another reminder that you have to go to places like Guymon, or Salida where we were pleasantly surprised yesterday to meet the folks and see what it's all about. Here's a link to the Galleon's website. Check out the menu there if you want to see what Spanish/Mexican/Filipino is all about: http://www.1565galleons.com/

After that it was a smooth hour and a half into Fort Supply Lake. I'll tell you more about that tomorrow since we're here for two nights. Through the day today we had descended about 3,000 feet and gained the 12 degrees we were entitled to for that drop. The descent was absolutely unnoticed. While we plunged more than that in 6 miles from Monarch Pass yesterday, today it was as if a flat plane 180 mile long had been given the slightest tip from level and we moved lower with no inkling we were not on level ground.

That's it for tonight, campers!

Later,

SC'

It's all downhill from here

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' back with you after a night off. And this time from a new state... we are back in the Land of Enchantment (which will be even more enchanting, I'm sure, once they get fast, reliable internet!) New Mexico! We are at Clayton Lake State Park in the far northeast corner of the state. That puts us about 10 or 15 miles west of the point where the panhandle of Texas, the panhandle of Oklahoma and the eastern border of New Mexico meet. Ok, it's not "the four corners" or anything, but I was hoping that description would give you an idea of where we are.

So, after I wrote to you two nights ago we had a change of plan. We had intended to drive yesterday from Ridgway State Park in Colorado to the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area just east of Salida, Colorado. However, as sometimes happens we had two reservations booked for last night. The other one was to stay put in our campsite at Ridgway. (Sometimes I deliberately make two reservations to give us flexibility, sometimes parks require a 2 or even 3 night minimum, especially around holiday weekends and sometimes I just screw up... I'm not telling why we had two reservation options last night... I'm just saying that we had two). So, yesterday morning I played Monty Hall (ok, youngsters... for your understanding of the story let me explain that he was a TV game show host) and asked Mrs. C' "Would you rather have a 3 1/2 hour drive on Sunday to a gravel parking spot on the Arkansas River with no electricity and no internet followed by another 3 1/2 hour drive on Monday orrrrrrr... Stay at this spot in Ridgway State Park all day Sunday without a care in the world then drive 7 hours on Monday?" (There was no "door #3, no "Monty's Cash Can... Nothing else... Just those two options). She said "I don't care, you pick". Obviously, she never watched "Let's Make A Deal" or she would have known that Monty never picked... The contestants did. Anyhow, I played along and said "Door number 2!" So we stayed in Ridgway yesterday and drove two days worth today.

So let's talk about today's trip. First off, there won't be any pictures tonight. There are two reasons for that 1. We have the sketchiest internet we have had all trip here at Clayton Lake State Park tonight. I'll be lucky to post this text. 2.) when we have 7 driving hours neither of us has much patience for stopping to smell the megapixels. Today even more so for reasons that will become clear as I share the story. So, we were up and readying the trailer for the road by 7:00 with a plan to roll at 8:00. We only missed our target by 15 minutes. Not bad. A quick stop for an exchange of trailer tank contents (the camp's faucet gave us fresh water and our storage tanks gave them... You get the idea) and we were off.

We headed north to Montrose, Colorado then turned east onto US 50 which would take us much of the way today. We climbed to about 8,000 feet then descended back to 7,200 to drive along the Blue Mesa Reservoir which is an amazing body of water formed by the impounding of the Gunnison River. I had never heard of this reservoir. It's a very large lake and more amazing because it's a mile and a quarter above sea level. It was well traveled by boats of all sorts even on Memorial Day when, at that altitude, the air was cool and the water had to be frigid. We continued into Gunnison, Colorado then continued on US 50 toward Monarch Pass. The climb up and over the pass began at about 8,000 feet. The steep section is not particularly long, maybe 5 or 6 miles, but it's a consistent climb without a break for the entire section. There were two uphill lanes all the way through that segment and we stuck to the right lane but managed 40-45 MPH in a 45 MPH zone. At many points there were no guardrails and serious drops. My thoughts flashed back to the two measurements of road hazard (road width and probability of death if the vehicle leaves the roadway). At points, the climb to Monarch didn't look good on either of those measurements. In those five or six miles we went from 8 thousand to 11,328 (according to my GPS altimeter). That put us 22 feet higher elevation than we had been on our Jeep excursion to Yankee Boy Basin and marked the high point (at least when measured in feet above sea level) of our entire trip. The trusty Tundra worked hard to get over the pass. I know because we stopped at the very top and I could smell the heat coming off her despite the fact that the gauges never budged above their normal readings. The trip down the other side was equally steep, although the slope is advertised as a 6% grade on the many warning signs and we have done 9% on two occasions without too much challenge. However a steady 6% for 6 miles or so is a bit challenging.

Shortly before noon we rolled into Salida, Colorado. I have pics that I'll post when Internet reliability permits. Let me describe Salida (pronounced locally as suh-Lye'-duh) briefly. It is a charming town of what appears to be about 40,000 population. Without internet I can't research what brings or keeps people there. We went into "Historic Old Salida" only because the restaurant that we picked for lunch with the help of TripAdvisor was there. It took most of the skill I've gained through 20,000+ incident-free miles of dragging the Cliche' behind the trusty Tundra to get through Historic Old Salida while still being entitled to use the phrase "incident free". We found a municipal parking lot (gravel on an abandoned commercial property that had been bulldozed clean from whatever had once stood there)  and took up 6 parking spots in the back row. We walked the dogs, gave them fresh water, told them to clear the trailer while we were gone and headed off knowing they never do what we tell them to.

Lunch was delightful. We ate at a place in a commercial/retail section of the old city. The historic zone appeared to be about a dozen square city blocks - maybe three one way and four the other. We parked on the edge of that and ate near the middle. The buildings were mostly brick and two or three stories. Some bore dates like 1895 suggesting this town may have had mining roots like Ouray where we visited the other day. Hey, I don't have Internet worth a fig, but I bet you do. Rather than me taking guesses, feel free to help me out here and go to google then type Salida Colorado and read the Wikipedia page... You'll know what I don't. Anyway, lunch was great (I had fish and chips which were just right with the beer batter and Mrs C' had the fish tacos). After lunch we practiced some retail therapy which was easy given that the historic area had a huge selection of funky shops with everything from antiques to clothing to ski stuff.

With 4 driving hours still ahead of us we decided to cut short the shopping leaving many funky shops unexplored. Maybe Salida left us wanting more, or maybe we just needed the break in the middle of a very long driving day, but we both had a very good feeling about Salida and would clearly have liked to stay and explore more.

We jumped back on US 50 heading east. It follows the Arkansas River through a 10 mile long gorge that is quite scenic. It's worth noting that the mountains of Colorado are the source for three of the six largest rivers in the US (measured by area drained or flow or something... I can't recall). Earlier in this trip we had close contact with two of the three. The Rio Grand flows south out of Colorado and we had camped on its shores north of Albuquerque then followed it upstream into Del Norte, Colorado. The Colorado flows southwest out of the Rockies and we had seen it at Lake Powell and the Grand Canyon. Now the Arkansas which we first contacted today as it headed southeast from Salina. We will revisit it repeatedly in the next week including camping on its banks in Arkansas next weekend. It says a lot about both the elevation and precipitation in Colorado that so much water power starts there.

The main story about the rest of the drive is that our Rocky Mountain Adventure clearly ended this afternoon. As Salida slipped off the screen of the trusty Tundra's moving map GPS we were already experiencing a terrain change. For almost an hour we drove southeast on Colorado 69. It was a miserable road for a vehicle our size since the lanes were narrow, the hills and curves plentiful and the appropriate speed for the cautious driver varied from 35 to 65. There was no cruise control for that hour. However as we drove that stretch the Sangre de Cristo mountains of Colorado (the northerly extension of the range we followed out of New Mexico and into Colorado three weeks ago) went from a few miles away and towering above us to 5, then 10, then 15 miles to our west. As they receded from view, the closest of their peaks got shorter and less snow covered. It was clearly the hour we left the Rockies.

About 4:30 PM we hit I25 South which carried us out of Colorado and into New Mexico, albeit with one more jaunt up to 7,800 feet at Raton Pass where the two states meet. From there we descended and jumped off the interstate onto US 87 heading east. The land grew flatter and more barren. Northeastern New Mexico is cattle county and a sportsman's paradise. For mile after mile there were cattle grazing on the left (north) side of the road and pronghorn antelope grazing on the right. There were miles and miles on end with nothing more than 100' elevation variance and no sign of human habitation.

Our home for the night - Clayton Lake - sits in the middle of that expanse on the western edge of the Great Plains. We are 12 miles north of US 87 near the town of Clayton. The lake is modest size... maybe a mile long based on what we can see from here and half that in width. There are just 7 campsites and a boat ramp here. A sign points to "dinosaur tracks" but we did not get to explore it tonight given our late arrival and need to feed both the dogs and ourselves. I'm sure we'll check it out when daylight allows.

So, that's how we went from pictures of snow capped peaks to dry, flat grassland. Tomorrow it's on to the last new state for the Cliche' on this trip - Okalhoma! We know the plains are waiting for us, as is Fort Supply Lake. Check in tomorrow to see if the wind came sweeping down on us.

Later...

SC'

On our way to the top!

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you and tonight again from Ridgway, State Park in Ridgway, Colorado.

The day started early inside the Cliche' with the dogs deciding that if the sun was starting to light the sky then they should be up and asking us to tend to them. No worries, we had an early start planned (just not quite that early). After our morning coffee, reading and pancakes (generally in that order) we did the best we could to make ourselves presentable and jumped in the trusty Tundra for the 15 minute ride to Ouray. Here's a shot Mrs. C' took on the way to Ouray. Note the pristine view of cattle grazing under a morning sky with snow capped peaks in the distance. We are told that people who frequent Colorado's dispensaries find this view especially inspiring, sometimes to the point that they spontaneously break out in poetry:

The morning was clear, with a forecast of afternoon rain and we had a 4x4 Jeep reserved for an off road trip into the high country. In this case that term doesn't refer to the State of Colorado generally, but to a spot 3,600 feet above the already high starting point of Ouray at 7,700 feet. Our destination was a place called Yankee Boy Basin.

Thanks to TripAdvisor we had linked up with a company in town called Colorado West Jeeps. What a nice group of folks. They had been helpful before our arrival answering questions by e-mail and generally inspiring confidence that they would be ready and we would manage just fine. Once we started interacting with them we realized that this is truly a family business. I believe everyone we interacted with was family whether behind the counter or in the garage. I mentioned yesterday that part of the clan also are Floridians who run the business here in Colorado seasonally. The pre-arrival inspiration was reinforced by “Jeep Day” delivery. We had a brand new 4x4 Wrangler (blue with a black top) with only 500 lifetime miles on it. It was clean, gassed and ready to go. We got a short checkout talk (mostly about putting it in and out of 4WD) and we were off.

Reflecting on what happened next reminds me of the story of “boiling the frog”. If you have not been exposed to this science please understand that it was performed long before People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals existed. In fact, the science dates to the 1870s and was done in Germany. In retrospect, what Germans did to frogs in the name of science pales in comparison to what came later. Anyhow, Google it if you need details (I did… as I typed “b-o-i-l-i-n-g t-h-e…” and it started searching, “...frog” was already the third most popular search). The essence is that if you introduce change at a slow enough rate, a living creature may not react but if you make sudden changes (let's say, in the temperature of a frog's watery home or in road conditions on a mountainside) then reaction will occur. Well, the road to Yankee Boy Basin evolved slowly. Here we are at the first stop where we said “This is beautiful… let's stop, get out and take pictures!”

Later, I would consider two new definitions of road conditions: 1.) how wide is the road measured in “Jeep widths” and 2.) what is the probability of death if the Jeep were to leave the road surface. At the point the above picture was taken, the road was 4 JW (Jeep Widths). That made the passing side-to-side of two vehicles very easy with ½ JW on the outside of each and 1 JW between. No problemo! Also the probability of death if the Jeep left the road surface was low… less than 10% and that is only due to the risk of hypotnermia if the Jeep landed in a stream fed by snowmelt from the Yankee Boy Basin where the snow is still 4 feet deep. We pressed on…

The next photo op occurred here:

We stopped to photograph the amazing cliffs and the thin veil of pale green that was hanging on the white birches that were just starting to leaf at this altitude. Now look back at the pic. Note the road. It is now ranging between 2 and 3 JWs. The probability of death in the event of loss of control is precisely 50%. That is 0% if you land in the low ditch on the right side of the road as shown in this picture and 100% if your Jeep was to leave the left side which is a 1,000 foot cliff. Just as the German scientists didn't waste any money on frog alarms or frog ladders, the Ouray Country Highway Department (Yes, this is a county road, technically we were not “off roading”… we were “roading”. It only looks to you and me like it's not a road because we don't live in the Western Slope in Colorado.) didn't waste any money on shoulders or guard rails. This change from 4JW to 2JW occurred gradually over a mile or three and we had adjusted. We pressed ahead!

Soon we came to this stretch of road. 

 

Yes, that is a rock overhang with the road proceeding under it. Remember, this is still spring in Colorado and there is beaucoup snow in higher elevations. The underside of this overhang was raining snowmelt onto the road. We felt it was time for the windows to come up and the windshield wipers to come on but we pressed ahead!

This is where thinking frogs bolt, but we were hooked. Even this sign did not deter us:

I am not sure what manner of vehicle, animal or passtime they did not warn us about. I think maybe the sign should include a Santa Clause icon, or a toothless fellow playing the banjo, but other than that the warning is clear and thorough. We pressed ahead.

I don't have a picture of what happened next to share with you. In words, I'll say: We came to a fork in the road. Several cars were pulled off on the left fork and parked there with no driver or occupant in sight. I think we should have recognized that those were the vehicles belonging to “the aware frogs”. That theory was confirmed later when we met the couple who owned one of those vehicles and who told us they parked it there out of an abundance of caution given the appearance of the road ahead on the right fork. We, however, saw a sign at the fork and it clearly pointed to Yankee Boy Basin up the right fork. We knew we were headed for Yankee Boy Basin. The appearance of the road was of no concern… we pressed ahead.

If I didn't mention it earlier, somewhere near the bottom of the hill I commented to Mrs. C' “I think we could have brought the trusty Tundra up here… after all, it has 4WD and is a pretty capable machine.” As soon as we entered the right fork that notion was gone… gone… gone. The Tundra itself is 1.5 JWs. The road was narrow. Maybe 1.5 JWs on average, 1.25 in the narrow spots with snow banks on either side. About every 100 feet was an area 1.75 to 2.01 JWs. Note that this is not only a county road, it is a two lane county road. As the warning sign pointed out, one must be ready to BACK UP if needed to find one of those spots that was 2.0+ wide and use it effectively. Clearly people who drive this regularly have a keen eye on the difference between a 1.95 JW and a 2.05 JW section. We were fortunate and only met two vehicles coming down that section. The fact that we got our damage deposit back at the end of the trip speaks to the skill of the downhill drivers. We did stop for one set of pics at a wide spot in the road. Note that while the terrain is rough (the “road” was more like a stream with a bottom of mud and angular rocks) that the probability of death from going off the road had dropped to zero since the snow banks eliminated any possibility of actually leaving the track.

So, we got to the top. I pulled out my GPS to get an altimeter reading – 11,306'. People who come in July or August can take the longer route over the Imogene Pass which is still snowed in now. It's over 13,000' and must be an even bigger treat. Here's a pic of the rugged little Jeep at the top. That's Mrs. C' in the Jeep giving me a hand gesture. No… not that hand gesture (what kind of a lady do you think she is? Plus, I had driven well, in my own mind, and any whiplash I gave her driving through potholes rather than around them was minor) she was flashing the “V” for Victory sign!

 

After a brief attempt at catching our breath we decided to head down. The sky was clouding up and looking like the weatherman's prediction of rain would come true. We have one more excursion to this altitude tomorrow as we cross the continental divide. I can say I will not miss the thin air of Colorado even if lots of other aspects of our time here will bring us back again. The trip down was a bit easier. We knew what to expect, its generally easier going downhill as long as you maintain slow speed and control. When we got into some of those steep drop off zones, Mrs. C' asked me to stay far to the left. She had a theory that since she was on the side with the drop, that it would be worse for her if we went over the edge. I'm thinking we need to get some German scientists to test that idea. I don't think the outcome of that error depends on whether one is strapped into the first seat over the cliff or the second.

Today ends the major part of the trip. We drove from Florida to see some amazing sites in the west. We enjoyed the trip across country and stopped en route to visit family. The western sightseeing started in Mesa Verde three weeks ago and included National Parks, National Monuments, interesting places, points of interest and a lot of eye popping stuff. Tomorrow begins the cross-country trip home. It's planned for two weeks. I'll still write most every night and post pics when interesting stuff passes before us, but it'll be hard to match what we've seen and done in Colorado, Arizona, Utah and back to Colorado. I'm going to take tomorrow night off because I believe we will be in a place with no internet (and no electricity and no water and no dump station). If you want tomake your own fly by of our route, we'll be leaving Ridgway, crossing over Monarch Pass and heading to Salida, Colorado then camping literally on the banks of the Arkansas River about 8 miles east of Salida at the Rincon Campground of the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area. Monday night (when I hope to write again) we will be in the northeast corner of New Mexico at Clayton Lake before heading into Oklahoma for the trip across the plains.

Thanks for following us and for all the encouragement you send in calls and texts. We look forward to an uneventful (but interesting) cross country trip, a few weeks at home then a trip to Massachusetts starting July 5.

Later!

SC'