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Published: January 24th 2008
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Posted by: Onaxthiel- Waking up in Vail in the early morning presented us with a far prettier day than the one we had driven into town in. The sky was clear, the temperatures were a bit warmer, and the wind was down. After a morning of doing laundry at J's place, we hit the road about 10:30, and started heading west. I-70 runs through a stretch of road called Glenwood Canyon. The signs tell us that the road "is the most celebrated 12 miles in the interstate system." I could see why. The view, even in the winter, was beautiful. A river runs along side the highway, and the mountains were left as untouched as possible by the builders to try to preserve the view for passengers. Hypothetically, for drivers too, but if I had been been paying as much attention as I would have liked, Obfuscator and I would have been killed by a mountain. There are four stops along the canyon drive, all worth making. The one that is most worth the stop is called Hanging Lake, which came recommended by J. Instead of being a small rest stop with short paths the way the others are, Hanging Lake
is a slightly over a mile hike up about 800 feet along a small mountain stream. Down at the bottom, the stream empties into the same river that cut the canyon route over the millenia. A railroad along side it is invisible from the highway, but the train that blew past us as we began our assent was quite clear from our angle. They must allow the engines to throttle up in the mountains, because that thing was almost on us by the time Obfuscator managed to get his camera out of it's bag.
The stream that we paralleled was quite thoroughly frozen on the top, but in the stillness we could hear a quiet trickle in some of the superficially motionless pools. Up near the top, the trail was covered in ice and narrows to a single lane. Just before we hit the steepest portion, the part where the state has installed rails on the trail to keep people from slipping off, we met a couple coming down. Discretion being the better part of valor, they had decided to slide down on their frictionless snowsuits rather than attempting to navigate the slope on their snow shoes. I'm somewhat
impressed that they decided to try snow shoes on a route that seemed to be mostly hard packed snow and ice. It was a choice I wouldn't have made. We decided to try dragging ourselves up the hand rails, since the passage of the snowshoers had brushed any remaining snow off the ice and a shear staircase is just asking for a neck injury. It was a slippery and exhausting move, but it was successful.
Once at the top we were greeted by what might be our new favorite waterfall. In sumer, I think it would just be another small cascade. With the temperatures of the winter mountains though, the waterfall had turned into a beautiful blue sculpture. I am not sure if the water coming from the mountain spring above had a higher temperature or what, but the lake itself had only the thinnest sheen of ice on it, and under that was a shade of water that seemed to match the flowing icicles above. Small blue birds hopped and chirped around the site. The only marring of the idyllic scene was a large group of children that were leaving when we arrived at the top. They had
decided to leave most of the trash from their lunches up top, from the drink containers along the path to the potato chip bags they left in the stream running down the slope. It's a good thing they had responsible adults around to remind them not to bother taking it back to the bottom. At least the birds were enjoying the chance at some extra food.
Once we were back on the road, we headed to the Glenwood Hot Springs. A warm vent pours into a swimming pool made to take advantage of it in this Colorado resort town, and we debated heading in for a swim for a while before the cost of the place put an end to the discussion. For the two hours or so we had to play with, the fifteen dollar admission fee just wasn't worth it, so we reluctantly headed away from the steaming outdoor pool and back into the thirteen degree mountain air.
We finally stopped for our first tank of gas since Denver right before leaving the state and entering Utah. While route 70 is a lovely route for views and places to party, it is atrocious for gas prices.
The entire middle of the state costs about 40 cents more per gallon than the sides that are a bit less mountainous. The border region of the two states is nice, if not as impressive as the high mountains further east. Finally, about 7:00 we arrived in Moab, Utah for dinner before heading into a national park for the night. The place we found was on the hill side of the valley that surrounds Moab, and it turns out that it was once the home of the man that found the first uranium mine in the town. It seems that back in the 50's, this was the big industry in the area, and the owner became a millionaire overnight. Now the restaurant that is in his former home provides an excellent vantage point to see the lights of the town below at night, and serves a pretty good meal too.
Once we had eaten, we went into Arches national park for an outdoor nights sleep on the first above zero night we have had for the last four days. It was an excellent night to be out, with low winds, no clouds and a full moon to provide wonderful
illumination to the scenic drive into our site.
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