The sun first shone on us at about our third cup of coffee and it found us parked in the yard of our niece's house in Del Norte (you remember... at the west end of the San Luis Valley on the Rio Grande). It was a cloudy mid-spring morning in Colorado and the weather is what we Floridians call "winter-like". At least it wasn't raining. We got ready to face the day and stepped across the driveway to visit the family. We hitched and prepped for the road, said our goodbyes and hit the road. Thanks to the whole Del Norte clan for their hospitality!
We moved across the San Luis Valley toward its endpoint along the mountains to the north. The agriculture I mentioned yesterday using the Google Maps satellite view went from a birdseye view to abstraction to having the presence and impact of an approaching zombie hoard. It was everywhere! Tractors were buzzing everywhere and those huge irrigation systems were running too. It's plantin' season in America's farmlands including here.
The road grade steepened and we eventually crossed through a pass in the Sawatch Range and down into Salida, Colorado. If that sounds familiar, Salida was a stop last year when we were coming back from Utah. Last year we were passing through from west to east on our way home, this time from the south to north. Anyway, we enjoyed last year's stop so we repeated it...almost precisely. We parked in the same spot, ate at the same restaurant (I had the fish and chips... again), stopped at the same shops and it was just as pleasant. Salida sits in a small valley and astride the Arkansas River. It seems to be a former mining town and has a charming old downtown area.
It was cloudy and threatening rain as we headed north and east out of Salida on our way to the campground. It got colder and darker as we moved along. It occurred to me that the type of agriculture we saw at the start of the day (fields of irrigated crops and grains) had give way to pure range land with no visible cultivation of anything other than grass. As part of that transition we saw fewer tractors and more barns. We also saw a wide range of animals being grazed. In addition to cattle, we saw bison (not wild... ranch raised), llamas (or maybe alpaca... I can't tell them apart... they are the "hamster and gerbil" of the livestock world) and every type of horse. We also saw pronghorn antelope in significant numbers.
As we left the last state highway on today's route we crossed a cattle guard. I didn't think much of it. We cross them regularly anywhere people want to keep animals from wandering across a fence line where it crosses a road. Within a couple of minutes we had a cow wander across the road in front of us, then a pronghorn and finally two burros stood in the road then walked up to the window (the last time I saw this move it was a guy with a squeegee at the bottom of an exit ramp from the FDR Drive in Manhattan). We we being shaken down by two half-breeds. In today's only picture, here is Mrs' C's picture of the incident:
In about 10 more minutes we were at the park entrance. This is the only self-serve state park we've ever been to. There is a sign telling all visitors to stop and pay an entrance fee. At the designated stopping point there is a lot of signage, a dispenser of envelopes and a lock box. A visitor determines what fees apply to them, tallies up the fee, takes an envelope from the dispenser, puts the cash in the envelope, removes a tear sheet with the same serial number as is printed on the envelope then stuffs the envelope into the lock box. If challenged later, the visitor shows the serial numbered receipt as proof of payment and continues to enjoy the park. The only question I have is: Don't people simply stop at the fee station, take an envelope and remove the serial numbered receipt then enter? This is a remote place. The park staff numbers.. like... what?... maybe 5 people. How often do they empty the box, create a list of serial numbers of envelopes showing the fee paid by each, determine the serial numbers that were in the stack of envelopes but were not in the lock box (this is where our scheme fits in...we took the envelope from the dispenser, but never put it in the lock box), put out an APB for anyone using the receipt from an envelope that was never stuffed with cash and put into the lock box... oh... heck... you understand what I'm getting at.. right? My third grade teacher, Mrs. Smith, even told me I had a criminal mind. This elaborate setup just put some air of officiality around the honor system. Don't the people out here know that you can't build a business model based on the honor of other people? Well, out here they do and it seems to work, actually. I guess that says something about out here.
A bit about where we are before I turn in. Elevenmile State Park surrounds the Elevenmile Canyon Reservoir. The reservoir is created by... that's right...another western dam which was put there to form the largest reservoir in the Denver public water supply system. Denver, mind you, is 120 miles away from here. Based on what I've seen happen in campgrounds, I'm amazed they put one immediately uphill from their drinking water, but here we are! I think it's an "absentee landlord" thing. They are in a different city, just want the rent paid on time and don't care what you do with the place. Elevenmile Reservoir is actually six miles long. I mentioned that paradox to Mrs. C' who said "I guess they let the man who made it, name it himself". By the time I processed that thought I said (I defense of all men everywhere) "Wait a minute... it's Elevenmile Canyon Reservoir... it's the canyon, not the reservoir that's eleven miles long... you see... men don't exaggerate!". Sorry, guys... that was the best I could come up with at that moment. Anyway, it's been cloudy, cool (low fifties heading to the upper thirties) and passing showers since we set up camp. We stayed buttoned up in the Airstream and had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for chow.
So, tomorrow it's off to Colorado Springs... home of the US Air Force Academy and the Cheyenne Mountain military complex among other things. We'll get there by rounding Pike's Peak. I asked Mrs. C' if she'd pose there for a picture I said "I think I'll call it "Pike's Peak or Bust". That certainly didn't advance my standing from the low point of the "six miles becomes eleven" fiasco. Sorry guys... that was the best I could come up with at that moment.
Until then...
SC'
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