I (Heart) Colorado

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I love Colorado. I loved Colorado from the moment I turned onto US-160 in Cortez and saw a vision of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains in the distance. After seeing so many reds and oranges and canyons falling into the earth, my senses were completely stimulated by the browns and greens and the mountains climbing out of the ground.

I’d been trying to make it to Cortez for a day and a half, but I kept getting distracted by the beauties of southern Utah and northern Arizona – Capital Reef, Glen Canyon, Monument Valley – and, by what I saw as an essential tourist stop, the Four Corners National Monument.

Cortez is a small town in southwestern Colorado that held no special appeal to me. It sits in the low desert plateau at the gateway to the forest and mountains beyond. It’s the type of town that you can drive straight through, only noticing it because of the annoying interference its traffic lights pose to highway driving. In fact, I did almost drive straight through it. But, at the town’s last set of lights, I got a call from my friend Sean, letting me know that he was at the Cortez Salvation Army.

I met Sean last January on an all-expense paid trip to Bahrain. As an initiative to introduce Bahrain to the world, the Good Word Society put together a program called Discover Bahrain and invited journalists, travel writers, documentary filmmakers, and professors to the country to explore the country’s cultural, economic, and heritage sites. It’s been a year and a half since I went on that trip, and this is the closest I’ve come to being able to write about it. For now, the only thing you need to know about the trip is that it introduced me to many amazing people, Sean included. He writes travel guides for African countries. And he’s awesome.

Sean’s been based in Berlin for the past bit, but was doing a short tour through the US. He was driving west and I driving east, and it looked like our paths were going to cross in Mesa Verde National Park. “It’s a small town,” he said, “look for the Enterprise Rent a Car and the Conoco gas station and I’m right behind that.”

I flipped around and, even with the astounding number of Conoco gas stations for such a small town, I managed to find the Salvation Army, and Sean. Then, I found one of my favorite books on sale for a quarter!

A man of my own heart, Sean’s love for traveling is possibly only paralleled by a love for literature. So, before going out to explore in Mesa Verde National Park, it was an unstated fact that we would first give Cortez’s second-hand bookstore a visit. Oh, the smell of old pages! Yet, my wallet and trunk space were both happy that I didn’t find any more of my favorite authors to make the both of them smaller.

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Mesa Verde National Park is home to some of the best-preserved ancient Puebloan cliff dwellings, which bestows upon it the added distinction of being a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Sean, his girlfriend Imke, and I took a hike on one of the park’s better-known trails – Petroglyph Point. From the historic Spruce Tree House, the trail winds its way through narrow cracks and underneath boulder overhangs (which offered a moment of cool respite from the heat of the day), leads you past ancient petroglyphs, and, after lots of climbing, ends up on the canyon rim, where you’re afforded a beautiful view of the valley below. It’s a beautiful hike!

Five hours to catch up with Sean was hardly enough, but I couldn’t stay longer. At 6 o’clock that morning, when I drove into one of the rare areas of the desert that had cell phone reception, I had received a text from one of my best adventures buddies in the world, Mer, who I hadn’t seen in two and a half years. In it, she invited me to go white water rafting early the next morning in an area north of Denver. Not having a very good concept of how far away from Denver I was, I quickly replied YES!!!!!!! before I lost the elusive reception.

So, my plans were set. I got another big hug from Sean and got back in my car. The first big town I drove through was Durango. Watching it approach on the mile markers, I was expecting another old western outpost – a small, desert town of boots, and chaps, and cowboy Cadillacs. But, as I drove through, it was clear that I had left the dilapidated mining towns and deserted Pony Express stations of the Wild West behind.

In their place was an affluent ski town. Quaint A-frame cabins nestled quietly in the trees. Horses leisurely grazed in perfectly green, perfectly manicured front lawns. It almost felt like a dream.

I think the desert is absolutely stunning, but at the end of the day, I’m not a person who handles heat very well. 99 degrees at 9pm is not my kind of happy place. As I drove deeper into the cool, forested Animas River Valley, it felt like I was coming home. Even the hailstorm that struck out of nowhere, forcing me off the road, and threatened to crack my windshield and dent my roof felt right. I could already tell that I’d be staying in CO for a while.

As I began my ascent into the Rockies, along the San Juan Skyway Scenic Byway (US-550), two things stood out to me. One was the road itself – narrow lanes, hairpin curves, steep cliffs, and a conspicuous lack of guardrails made this one of my new favorite highways in the US. The other was the people I saw on the sides of the road. Crazy cyclists zoomed by at breakneck speed. Dirty hikers strained under the weight of their packs, but everyone had a grin plastered on their face. “Hey,” I thought, “these people kinda look like me!”

It was at this point that I really started to fall in love with Colorado. You could feel people’s excitement to be alive – and to be outside! The longer I stayed in Colorado, the more I came to admire its outdoor culture. It’s an entire community of like-minded people who love to run, hike, climb, cycle, kayak, you-name-it-anything-outdoors. To make things even better, they all have dogs. And they bring their dogs on all of their adventures with them! Happy people faces and happy dog faces are to be seen everywhere. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

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By sunset, I found myself by one of Colorado’s hidden gems – the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. Ever heard of it? I hadn’t either. And entering from the south rim, I wasn’t so sure it was worth the detour, as short as it was. The terrain looked no different than the rolling, shrub-covered hills of the low desert plateau I’d been driving through for days. With six more hours to go until Denver, and daylight fading fast, I decided to give it ten miles to impress me. Within five, my jaw was in my lap.

The Black Canyon is the 5^th steepest mountain descent in North America. It’s so steep that sunlight has a difficult time penetrating its depths; as a result, the rocky canyon walls appear black (hence its name). The Gunnison River roared at the base of the Black Canyon below, carving its way relentlessly deeper into the earth. A cold wind rushed up the canyon walls, setting my hair to dancing. I took a deep breath of the fresh air and wished I had more daylight, and climbing gear, to explore further. But, with the setting of the sun, I had to promise myself there would be a next time.



This is a trip I’m making entirely for the scenery. I’m in no rush and have no final destination. As such, I made it a rule to never drive at night. But if there’s one person who could make me break that rule, it’s Mer. She and I have shared many of life’s best moments, as well as its worst. And never have I met someone who I’d rather share either of those times with. She greets life with endless optimism, motivation, and determination to be a better person, a better athlete – to climb higher; to run longer; to learn more; laugh more; love more, and give more. White water rafting with her was guaranteed to be a life win. I had to get to Denver!

I made it to Mer’s house by 1:30am, dead-tired. It wasn’t too hard to save the catch-up chat for later. We got up early in the morning and drove northwest to Kremmling, where the Blue River and Muddy Creek join the headwaters of the Colorado River. There, Mer, her boyfriend Nick, and I met up with Mer’s friend Tony, who had invited us out in his raft for the day. Yes, his own raft. And we were just one of the many personal vessels cruising the waters of the Colorado River that day. I’m telling you, the dedication to outdoor recreation in Colorado is very real!

We floated down the river, epic scenery passing by on either side, each taking turns at the helm. When it was my turn with the oars, it took a few minutes (and my tongue hanging out of my mouth in total concentration) to figure out how to coordinate a forward row and navigate directional changes. But, it wasn’t too long before us novices were comfortable enough to steer the watercraft down (still relatively gentle) rapids. It was pure exhilaration! Plus, we got to jump off cliffs – one of my absolutely favorite ways to make my adrenaline pump! The water was so cold that Tony warned us of muscles seizures, “If you don’t think you can make it back to the boat or the shore in 30 seconds, don’t jump.”

But the best part of the day was also the finest moment of Americana I’ve ever experienced. Balanced on a fencepost looking over a field of bulls was the unmistakable symbol of American nationalism – a bald eagle. Just then, two bulls dropped their noses to the ground and rammed their heads together with the full force of their might. Dust plumed in the air behind their hooves with the strain of their repeated head-knockings. Seemingly fed up with the brutish display, the bald eagle spread his wings and soared away, his white tail spread out majestically behind him. He flew to his nest at the top of a tall tree, where his mate awaited his return.

We sat still in the raft to watch the scene unfold, Bud Lights in hand, with the Colorado River gently carrying us along. God Bless America! Did I mention yet that I love Colorado?

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Photos

Spruce Tree House
Ancestral Puebloans built these cave dwellings something in the 12th century.

Squeeze!
Petroglyph Point Trail

Narrow Staircase
Petroglyph Point Trail

Petroglyphs Close-Up
Petroglyph Point Trail

At the Top!
Petroglyph Point Trail

US 550
Also known as the Million Dollar Highway.

Petroglyphs
Petroglyph Point Trail

Mining on US 550
Copper, Lead, Malibdinum