Day 23 and 24: Yosemite Park, CA

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Well we lived through the night.  We raced into the park, breezed through the Meadows in order to get to the campground we wanted only to find it almost completely empty.  And that was the first Yosemite myth debunked; you do not need reservations in order to camp in the park.  After setting up camp we returned to Tuolumne Meadows for a short hike and then swim in Soda Creek.  Later we tasted the spring bubbling out of the nearby rocks.  Conversations with rangers at the Meadow indicated that the serious bear problems are in the valley and not in the high country where we were camping (this was not exactly the truth).

Once back in the campground Henna and I visited new friends we had made earlier while borrowing a pencil.  Turns out they had relatives with them visiting from Scotland (quick jolt of homesickness).  The young boy from Scotland excitedly told us about the bear he saw not 20 feet from his campsite.  Later while Corey is making dinner we see a young pair of rangers (they always seem to be paired up male to female and in there mid 20s; it is like some odd dating game show) walking briskly past.  A large crowd gathered about ten sites past me and I hear someone say there was a bear in the campground.  The same rangers walked past me again, but this time he had a rifle which he then used to shot rubber pellets into the bear’s behind in order to scare him off.  The campground hosts walked by later (a middle aged couple with a vaguely NY accent, they easily could be friends with my parents) and told us to expect several e bears to walk in and out of our campsite for the rest of the night looking for food, trying to borrow money, and having some fun with us.

For some reason this distressed Corey.  Me, I was a little concerned but, unlike in Griz Country, the rangers repeatedly told us to scare off any bears we encounter.  My favorite sign suggested we throw a pebble at the bear so that we frighten but not hurt the bear.  At the campfire program the rangers told us a funny story about a nine year old girl standing on a picnic table by herself and stamping her feet in order to ward off a bear eating her food.  You get the sense here that the bears are little more than overgrown raccoons (who are distant cousins of bears) and not man eating beasts.  At least that is what I kept telling myself.  Anyways, several of our neighbors here were loud and stayed up past 2.  Normally this would have annoyed us, but we welcomed what we saw as anti-bear noises.  Henna by the way was 100% aware of our concerns, retired early to bed, and slept like a rock.  Ah, youthful innocence.

Day 24:  White Wolf Campground, Yosemite

Two nights down and the bears have not bothered us yet.  Last night had a much happier vibe to it.  After calling my mom and scaring her about the bears (“Get out now!  Just find a motel or something and leave!  Promise me you will do that!”) we returned to our campground after a fun day exploring the park.  Quick impression:  Yosemite has it all.  You want Sequoia groves?  They got it in bunches. A highlight of the day was definitely our stroll through Tuolumne Grove (reached by a short one mile walk).   High mountain country where you need a good jacket at night?  It dropped to the low 40s last night.  A warm valley with majestic and unbelievable rock formations as well as rivers meant to swim in?  Well, that is what the park is known for as El Capitan and Half Dome are as pretty as you think they are.  Also, head to the Merced River and pull out by the side of the road and jump in.  And crowds too!  The Valley is like a park within the park; the kind of park that every person in your town feels the need to go to at one time.  With trails of asphalt and bikes whizzing past your ear you can, if you are lucky enough to get a parking spot, stroll the Village for ice cream and Ansel Adams prints at the “gallery” (and by gallery they mean print shop).

My understanding is that before the cavalry came and kicked out the people that had lived in the Yosemite area for thousands of years, there were two tribes; one in the valley and one in the high mountains.  They did not always get along.  This is still kind of true.  People in the high country tend to look down, figuratively and literally, at the folks in the valley.  Down below they live it up in comfort and up above they take pride in their rustic habits.  Personally, I like both areas.  The valley is stunning in beauty but crowded.  It would be a shame to visit the park and exclude either area.

Back at the campground we met a cool ranger.  Jeff is about 30, has a political degree from Berkley, and served in the army.  When not working as a ranger at Yosemite (it is a 6 month gig) he often spends the time backpacking over the world.  He is proud to say he has visited 43 countries and has a preference for the un-Starbucked lands of Central America and the Balkans.  He hitchhikes, takes busses, and works odd jobs in order to pursue his passion.  All this traveling has given him some disdain for the borders of the worlds and he made for a very interesting conversation.  Jeff also is an awesome ranger who lives and breathes Yosemite Park.  We had questions and he had answers.

About those bears.  The campground we are staying at is easily more than 95% tents.  Many of our neighbors are, as Jeff calls them, “repeat offenders.”  All the repeat offenders have bear stories (my one neighbor was alone and up late at night when a bear strolled a few feet from him).  But they keep coming back.  And the rangers everywhere treat the bears by first breaking into a dead run in their direction.  If that doesn’t work it’s time for the rubber pellets.  The first night Corey and I did not sleep well.  Last night we did.  Just remember, if you are in Yosemite watch your strong smelling objects, do not feed any wildlife, and never lend a bear money (he will just spend it on food).  Also never pick up a hitchhiking bear.

Day 22: Mammoth Lakes, CA

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Mono Lake is saltier than an ocean and more litigated over than a prenuptial contract in Las Vegas.  Although large and majestic now, it was even more so in 1941 when the City of Las Angeles began diverting its source water for its own uses.  The lake shrunk and shrunk and shrunk which was a bad thing for the millions of birds that use this lake as a refueling stop.  Concerned citizens sued the thirsty city and the issue of what constitutes a healthy lake level was left to the court to decide.  Eventually an agreement was reached and LA is now committed to restoring Mono Lake to a water level less than in 1941, but considerably more so than now.  Short hikes around the lake now mark an inland area as the assumed future shore line.  Besides the legal background, the lake is also fascinating for being partly spring fed which results in “tufa” formations (kind of like sea stacks).  Due to the retreat of the lake, many of the tufa stacks are now on land and are thus easy to touch and look at closely.

 

On our last full day at Mammoth Lakes, we also explored two other lakes (June and Gull).  Gull is like a big swimming pool stocked with trout.  We took a paddle boat out and I spent a good deal of time with my feet in the water as Corey and Henna peddled me around the lake.  We then went to the much more crowded and colder June Lake where Henna and I withstood a few quick dunks in.  Later that day we took showers, did laundry, and ate out.  The waitress messed up Corey order (the second time this has happened this trip).  Henna had a play date that night with neighbors that night and I talked road trips and education with that girl’s older sister and boyfriend.  After a good night sleep I was ready this morning to stock up on groceries and head to Yosemite where I now sit waiting for the charcoals to get hot so we can have portabella mushrooms for dinner.

Day 20 and 21: Las Vegas to Mammoth Lakes, CA

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Day 20:  Las Vegas, NV to Mammoth Lakes, CA

Leaving Las Vegas we had two choices:  a quick run to the coast or a ramble into the Sierras.  It could have gone either way but we chose the latter.  And, sitting here by a fire and typing up these words I am glad we made the choice we did.

20 minutes north of Vegas on 95 and we were out in some serious desert (the kind of desert where the mobsters dump the bodies).  And this desert continued for quite a long time with some scrubby bushes, interesting cactuses and dusty mountains to both sides.  At a small, indiscrete road Corey told me to make a left heading straight west into California.  There was no tar on the road and a sign said not to go over 35MPH.  Another sign said not to expect gas for 56 miles.  The road led into the dusty mountains and I noticed that oncoming cars had big canisters of gas and water strapped to their sides.  Not the sign I was looking for.

As the road began to switchback I questioned Corey’s route.  She asked if I would prefer going through Death Valley.  I would have come back with a good one, but right then the road began to narrow to such a degree I was concerned our car might scrape against some cliffs.  The switchbacks continued and desert became short trees which became small forests and the temperature dropped to below 80.  And still we climbed and just when the view became good, we dropped and the forest faded as the heat rose.  Around one bend there was a pull out and some ruins.  A small sign said that there was once a small mining town there (Palmetto).  We explored and in doing so found many rusted tin cans and pottery shards (could have been a few days old, could have been a few thousand years old).  Another family was also playing around the bricks and it felt good to be on this crazy road somewhere between Nevada and California.

I am not sure exactly when we entered California as there was no sign greeting us.  This distressed me a little and I felt cheated out of knowing the exact moment when you cross into a new state.  The road in California was even windier than before and filled with dips that sometimes prevented me from seeing beyond a few feet of pavement (like a ship cresting a wave).  One bend warned of a single lane ahead.   Just to be on the safe side I beeped my horn just before making the turn and was surprised to hear an answering honk.  Another piece of road found a group of cows being herded across the street by men on horseback.  For a moment I feared that I took a wrong turn into the past century.   The only real blemish to the trip was us not having time to check out the Ancient Bristle Pine Cone area (7,000 year old living tress, the oldest living plants in the world).  On the plus side we have a good reason now to come back.

Eventually we came to 395 and everything was green and prosperous looking.  In Owens Valley (more things to make me homesick, we also looked for Glen’s brewery, Jean’s bookshop, and Griffin’s art studio) the Sierras were to our left, the dusty Nevada mountains to the right.  Tired we stumbled into Mammoth Lakes and decided to spend a few days here before heading to Yosemite on Sunday (a good day to find campsites).

Day 21:  Mammoth Lakes, California

We woke up today happy to be in the Sierras.  Henna overslept, I read and texted my dad and a friend in Wisconsin, and Corey joined me for a cup of coffee.  Before leaving for the day’s adventure I asked an older couple advice regarding possible area hikes.  John and I started talking (and his companion talked to Corey) and I soon found out that he served as a crew member on Air Force One for six presidents (Eisenhower insisted on being called general, Ford was very friendly and often draped an arm over his shoulders, Johnson was feared by everyone except his wife and J. Edgar Hoover, Carter was a stick in the mud).  John was a good guy to talk to but baited me into political discussions (Me:  “I love camping.”  Him:  “It’s all going to go away (high gas prices) if we reelect this Marxist President.”)  A good balance to John was his wife whom heads a non-profit focused on helping high school drop outs get their GED. While Corey and her talked about the need for a more comprehensive approach to education, John and I debated whether or not death panels were going to decide my future health options.

Our day later involved standing next to a fault line, a long wait for a bus, a crazy standing room only bus ride down from a mountain, and a cool hike leading to Rainbow Falls and Devil’s Postpile National Monument.  It all felt like what I imagine Yosemite to feel like for a reason; prior to the early 20th century it was part of the national park.  Mining interests, however, wanted to exploit the area and select parcels of land where kicked out of the park (and then later protected as a national monument).  You are not allowed to drive the road in (probably due to it being one lane for a few stretches) and for that reason we paid for a shuttle to take us to the trail head.  While waiting we met a married couple from Anchorage and found out that he is a special education teacher who works primarily with children that have autism.  Another commonality was that her birthday is close to Corey and her father works very hard as a freelance writer (but has a different day job).  They were headed off on a three night excursion with tripods and expensive camera gear in order to reproduce Ansel Adams work.  Many of his photos feature lakes in this area.    The hiking was good, the return bus trip scary, and laundry was postponed for another day.

 

Day 18: North Rim of the Grand Canyon (and a taste of Day 19 in Vegas)

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Well we knew we weren’t in Colorado once the desert set in.  All that driving through lower elevations, sage brush, and mesas led us to the oasis from which I write these words.  The North Rim of the Grand Canyon sits at almost 9,000’.  At my campsite now I am surrounded by pine trees and the road leading to the canyon is lined with Aspens.  Local time is 6:30 but my clock says an hour later (Arizona does not believe in daylight savings time) and my fingers are numb from the cold.  If I were to guess I would say it is in the mid 50s.  All of yesterday until moments before setting up camp the temperature varied from mid 80s to high 90s.  In Cortez we left at 10 and the car thermometer read 93.  Last night looking across the canyon to the South Rim I did not see any trees.  It is hard to accurately read land miles away, but it seemed dry and hot.  It might very well be given that the South Rim is some 1,500 feet lower in elevation.  What it lacks in trees it makes up in crowds.  We met several people who told us of going to the canyon and having to wait for parking spaces, traffic jams, and completely filled campgrounds.  We wandered into our campground sometime around 5 and found it less than half filled.  A campground closer to the rim (we are 20 miles away) and the lodge are completely booked, but it all had a casual feel to it.  The main lodge here is truly magnificent and for the first time this trip I am jealous.  Usually the campgrounds are friendly and more a part of the park, the hotels cold and far away.  Here it is the reverse as the lodge features several decks spilling from the lobby with families hanging out on Adirondack chairs.  The trails also seem to begin at the lodge creating a festive and intimate atmosphere.  It all reminds me of the lodge at Starved Rock (both were built around the same time, both also experienced bad fires).

A little after typing those words I went to the front of the campground in order to pay for another night.  Henna accompanied me and on the way we said hi to a dad and her daughter (whom Henna had met earlier).  This led to a conversation and a quick friendship with the dad, a fireman out of Cheyenne).  Quickly joining in on the conversation was Nena (a teacher near Flagstaff) whose daughter was near the same age as Henna and the other girl.  Nena mentioned needing eggs, we were trying to unload eggs (eggs in our cooler usually lead to drama and we saw no use for them in the next day or two), so I gave her three.  All three of us needed to go to the store across the street so off we went.  At the store I found a cowboy hat better than the one I bought yesterday, but it was too big.  Nena volunteered to add a leather draw string to it (she had the materials in the car), so I gave my oldest, holiest hat to the dad (it was just adding clutter), and Nena said she would leave it under my tent (we wanted to get a start on the day).  All three of us adults were giddy, the three girls were getting antsy, and I was no longer jealous of the folks in the lodge.

In between hat swaps and pining for the lodge we also spent some time exploring the canyon.  Specifically we chose the Kaibab Trail.  Although the views were awesome, the hike was not my favorite.  Dropping 1400’ in 1.7 miles, the hike was almost entirely made up of switchbacks (I prefer the more gradual up and down involved with climbing a mountain).  Going down was easy and exciting as each turn around the bend showed a new angle of the canyon.  Going up, however, was a lot less fun and involved a lot of breaks.   Adding to the mystique of the trail was the frequent burro trains passing us (and kicking up a lot of dust in the process) as well as their droppings which seemed to be constantly under foot.  The trail itself wanders into the bottom of the canyon and then up the south rim (the Colorado River was a measly 14 miles from the top) and attracted everyone from families (us) to serious backpackers planning on exiting the canyon on the south side (3-4 days is typical for that trip).

After the hike we found a comfortable leather couch for Henna to read on, me to fidget on, and Corey to sleep on. The rain, which began as a light drizzle on our hike, turned into a steady pattern and we ended up eating pizza within the lodge.  The rain eventually ended and we enjoyed the cool air back at our campsite.  Woke up early, drove to Vegas, and that is where I am now, typing these words and wondering where to find some free wifi in order to post this.

Note:  Vegas was OK.  Henna liked some of the street performers, especially a spray pain artist.  She hated the loud noise of the casino.  We saw fireworks from our room as well as some from the show at Treasure Island.  All three of us loved the water show at Belagio, we also hated the smelly and drunk crowds roaming Las Vegas Blvd.  I could not stand the nickel and dime nature of it all (want better chairs at the pool, $35- wifi aint free and neither is anything else).  Went to a bank later and met an interesting guy in line who was there for the World Series of Poker.  He said it was 30% luck, 70% skill.  Also met a cool “resident artist” at the Cosmopolitan Hotel.  Anyways, I am about to post this from a small and comfortable coffee shop in Beaty, Nevada on way to Mammoth Lakes, CA (at edge of Yosemite NP).  Hope all is well wherever you are.

Day 17: Cortez, CO to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon (by Henna)

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Hello it’s Henna.  I’m finally writing a post!  Today I was in four states at once.  We went to the four corners.  The four corners are four states that meet together in an exact square.  I was in  Arizona while Mom and Dad were in New Mexico.  There were lots of Navajo Indians selling jewelry.  I got two stone animal beads.  Our next stop was a town called Page.  It was really hot.  Next we went to a place where there were lots of rocks balanced on top of each other.  The story behind it is that a ladies car broke down in the place and she liked the scenery so much she bought the property and made houses kinda with the rocks.  We explored and took lots of pictures.  Me and Mom found a old broken down car buried in the sand.  There were a whole bunch of rusted cans and broken bottles, I found some pieces of an old yellow bowl.  We drove for a long time and finally reached the campsite.  While we were at the campsite a hummingbird perched on our car and then attacked Mom!  Afterwards we had a yummy dinner and drove to the Grand Canyon.  We looked over the edge and we got to drink water from a spring that runs through the Grand Caynon….it tasted really good.  Later we got icecream and watched a pretty sunset at the Grand Canyon Lodge.  We have been on the trip for two weeks and a half and it has been really fun.  Bye for now.  Henna

Day 16: Durango, CO to Cortez CO

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Today was all about Mesa Verde.  Before I talk about the Ancestral Pueblo Indians formerly known as Anasazi, I feel like I have a few loose ends to tie up.  First off I really did not give Peter and Colleen (and I do hope that is how you spell your name, if not please correct me) their due.  Methinks the following conversational gems will let you in on the comedic genius that is Peter.

Peter:  “That book (50 Shades of Gray) is horrible.  Just stupid.  I am almost half way done.”

Peter:  (again talking about 50 Shades) “I just read it for the pictures.  You know the mental pictures.”

Then a little later, after being told his daughter is currently reading the book:  “We have to get home right away and stop her.”

Me:  “Well how much is a dinner for one in Australia”  Peter:  “With drinks probably $25.”  Me:  “How about without drinks.”  Peter:  (after a long silence) “I don’t think that has ever happened.”

So anyways, yesterday I mentioned that we would make sucky truck drivers.  Why?  We do not really travel any great distance ever.  Each day this trip I reset an odometer to see how much we drove.  Yesterday it was about 110 miles.  Today was less.  We had every intention of making a quick stop at Mesa Verde and then getting close to the Grand Canyon, but man are we easily distracted.  After doing our usual road time chores such as buying groceries at Walmart (where I also got a new Cowboy hat)  we spent the entire day learning about the Ancestral Pueblo Indians.  When my parents took me to Mesa Verde sometime in the late 70s the rangers talked about the mysterious disappearance of the Anasazi.  Mystery solved; they left the mesa and blended in with other Native Americans to become what are today known as the Pueblo Tribe  (which is actually a very diverse and only loosely connected group of people).  They probably left their cliff dwellings (after only a hundred or two hundred years) due to a combination of drought and over farming.  Anasazi, which was used by the rangers until recently, was the name given by the Navajos and loosely translates to “others”  which is sort of like describing me as “not Mongolian.”

From an earlier conversation this trip I know that within the park boundaries are valleys overflowing with pottery shards and Pueblo ruins.  None of that is accessible to the public.  Instead there are ranger led tours through partially reconstructed cliff dwellings.  Balcony House may be the most stunning (and I remember bits of this when I was a youth) but involves a 20′ ladder.  That was a no-go for Henna.  Instead we did Cliff Palace and Henna did great with the four ladders (one of which was 10′).  We also walked to Spruce Tree House and toured the museum.  All of it was fascinating.  Henna called it the highlight of her trip so far.  I would have to agree.

Around dinner time we left the park and camped at the KOA in Cortez.  My neighbors have become gradually more worldly and I am now writing this with Swiss neighbors to one side and French (I think) neighbors on the other.  This trend began in RMNP and I expect it to continue whenever we are at the more popular parks (in contrast, we met mostly Nebraskans while in that state).

We are ready to say goodbye to Colorado tomorrow.  What a great state, will miss you dearly.  What’s next?  Well we are off to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and then Vegas on the 4th.  After that we think we are going to head to the coast and gradually make our way up.  Stay tuned for more details.

Day 15: Ouray, CO to Durango, CO

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Before our trip my mom asked me if I was going to take the Million Dollar Highway.  I shrugged and said probably.  My mom then described that bit of road as truly frightening.  I laughed and said something to the effect of having been on a few windy roads before.  Boy was I wrong to laugh at my mom’s concern.  In the first few miles after Ouray I moved Subie in ways I did not think was possible as tight turn after tight turn was made with no guard rail or other visual marker separating the thousand or so foot drop just a foot or so to my right.  I have never been so scared in my life.  After climbing to the old mining town of Silverton (which is at 9,000+ feet and boasts many genuine 19th century building selling 21st century junk) the road then descended to Durango which sits at a mere 6,000 or so feet.  Silverton was in the low 70s, Durango was scorching at 90 degrees and has nearby forest fires.  The smoke from those fires was choking us as we entered the town.

Ouray exceeded our expectations, but Durango has been a real downer.  It is not just the fires but also the sprawl of the town which features Walmarts, McDonalds, etc.  The pricey change of rear differential fluid (unexpected) to go along with the expected oil change did not help matters any.  We drove about 80 miles today. You can get to Durango from Chicago in about 3 to 4 days pretty easy.  In over two weeks of driving now, we have traveled less than 2,000 miles.  I think that is why I would make a pretty sucky truck driver.

 

But at the KOA we did make some friends.  First off was Peter and his lovely wife Colleen.  Peter is your typical motorcycle racing Australian grandfather of five traveling the US in a motorhome.  Conversation started with Colleen asking Corey about the book she was reading (50 Shades Darker).  Corey found the first book of the series and gave it to Colleen.  Peter and I then talked about the differences between living in Australia and the US (Peter’s favorite two things in the US are Walmart and Denny’s).  Peter also showed me how to downsize photos which hopefully will let me share more of them with you.  Later that night they shared drinks and cake with us in their RV.  Cool people that we hope visit us some day in Chicago.

The other friend we made was Bruce.  During the great duck race at the KOA (numbered ducks are launched into the creek and your duck’s fortunes could lead to prizes) Bruce selflessly gave up his prize (5$ gift certificate good at the KOA store) to Henna.  Bruce also is in the Air Force which should tell you even more about his good character.  Bruce we thank you for the root beer float as well as your service to our country.

Being a typical Hennacornoeli kind of day there were other people met on the road.  My favorite may have been the salesperson at Silverton who sold knives with exotic handles (dinosaur bone for example) who said, after I asked about one of those knives “I have no idea what a wooly mammoth even is.”  I also lost a game of chess to another clerk and Corey met some great artists in that town too.  Who knows what the road will bring tomorrow but be sure we will share it with you

Days 13 and 14: Ouray, CO

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These are the stages we usually go through when finding our dream home:

1)  Fantasy.  This is the first and most intoxicating of the stages.  We ask people on the street about the quality of schools, look at real estate ads, and think of all the townfolk we meet as future neighbors.

2)  Reality.  We like Chicago.  We also like to travel and if we lived in heaven why would we ever even leave?  Plus there is the question of family and friends; how would we keep the ones we have if we lived so far away?  Do any of you guys want to move to Ouray with us?  Seriously, mom, dad, mor mor, let us know if your interested.

3)  Time to go.  Like all parties there is always a time to leave (in our case we are just moving to another party down the road).

For Ouray we paid you the ultimate compliment; we stayed three nights which is one night longer than we stayed in RMNP as well as Breckenridge. Only Rustic Hideaway in beautify S. IL and Waterton NP have earned more of our attention.  Oh the things we love about Ouray:  the free concert in the park on Thursday, the super friendly and approachable locals who often treated us like friends (such as the librarian whom we later ran into at the concert and the owner of Mouse Candies whom we met at the same concert; we also had so many real conversations with so many people about housing prices, hiking, living in a small town, etc), the hiking, the hiking (worth mentioning twice), and the gorgeous historic and chain free downtown filled with interesting resale shops, bars, hotels, and eateries.  A true testament to a great town; people working in the town usually grew up in the town.  For example, the liquor store owner bought the store off his parents (who first moved into Ouray the year I was born).  On our last full day in Ouray we took some time to sit on a bench and watched some of the most interesting people such as the twenty something guy walking past with four paperback books and a 40 ounce thing of malt liquor.  What a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.  We will miss you Ouray but rest assure you are our new measuring stick for all future towns.

One more thing:  two days in a row we hiked and were then chased off the trail by rain and light hail.  Today was the more serious day as we drove up to a trail head, lost the trail we wanted, gained a different trail and found ourselves walking back to town along highway 550 (the start of the Million Dollar Highway).  Once in town Corey and Henna bought new and dry shirts.  Hypothermia solved but we were now separated from our car.  What to do?  Well first we ate a good lunch and asked around about a possible taxi.  There are no taxis in Ouray.  Just when I was about to walk back along 550 then up a steep road to the car we ran into our camping neighbors who drove me where I needed to go.  We owe them a couple of beers for sure.  That’s Ouray for you.

Day 12: Gunnison, CO to Ouray, CO

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Well we found Colorado heaven here in Ouray (pronounced you-ray).  You can walk up and down (literally for there is a definite tilt to the town) Main street in about ten minutes.  You can also stroll from Main street to a waterfall, several trail heads, or a large community pool fed by the hot springs.  The latter had a youth swim team practice going on when we checked it out (one pool is the traditional water type, three or four other pools varying in temperature from 80 to 100 degrees).  There are a few condos here, but mostly people (permanent residents and otherwise) live in small cottages that dot the downtown area as well as the hills.  Prices are not cheap, but you can buy a small home here for about 250K; I talked with someone who bought his dream home for around 400K, a nice librarian whose husband teachers in town paid 280K for something that needs work (in Breckenridge I think condos start at over 500K- we found ads in town for homes in Teluride starting at a million).   We ate at a wonderful Mexican resterant last night and the waitress grew up here with both parents teaching at the local school (her graduating class was 25 but she thinks last years was 14).  She goes to school now in Boulder but loves her hometown dearly.  Another person we met owns a liquor store that he purchased from his family (they moved to Ouray in 1973, he was born in 1976 and bought the store from his folks in 1999).  People tend to stay here.

Anyways, we do not have any pictures yet of our new adopted hometown.  On the way to Ouray we stopped at Black Canyon of The Gunnsion NP and did some hiking.  That canyon is amazing; the Gunnison river carved it out and drops more in 60 some miles than the Mississippi does in its entire run.  A lot of power.  Anyways we will share photos and stories from our new favorite town Ouray.  Talk to you soon.

Day 11: Breckenridge, CO to Gunnison, CO

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I agree with Corey that it felt good to get back on the road.  The night before I was staring at the map and found, just a tad off of our route, Hitchcock Ghost Town.  Amazingly, it appeared that the ghost town was on a small road that connected 285 to 50 which meant no backtracking!  Well, not exactly.  We followed Mr. Rand McNally to that small country road and were surprised to discover very cute second homes mixed in with the delights of the San Isabel National Forest.  Campgrounds, hiking trails, and aspen groves made up the foreground and a 14,000’ mountain in the background completed the picture nicely.  We pulled over for what we assumed would be an easy half mile hike to the Agnes Vaille Waterfall.  However, steepness, a hot sun, and limited shade made this much more challenging than we expected.  The waterfall jutting out of jagged rocks made for an excellent payoff.   Everything here is beginning to feel a bit Southwest.

But Mr. Rand McNally neglected to mention that the ghost town entailed a five-mile one lane gravel road.  We started it, decided it was getting late, and put it in reverse.  On the way out another Outback made for the same road.  We asked them what they knew about the road and the driver said that her friends said the road was not too bad.  Our road continued to St. Elmo and then ended.  Just like that.  There was no continuation to 50.  We asked a man with an ATV and he said there was no way to 50 except to backtrack to where we started.  He also said that we would have had no chance to make it to Hitchcock in what we were driving.  One gravel road, two opinions.  Maybe that road would have let out at 50?  We will never know.  I hope the other Outback had no trouble.

Before all that we stopped off in Southpark, CO.  A store owner told us that one of the creators of Southpark spent part of his high school years here and modeled the cartoon town after Southpark.  Besides a lot of Southpark stickers for sale there were also a lot of restored building and a seemingly cool museum to go to (we however took a pass). Kenny, however, was nowhere to be found.

So now I am back in the tent.  Understandably there are still no campfires allowed by us.  Parts of Colorado did get some rain today, but I am not sure if the fires got any relief.  While making dinner however two separate storm fronts moved in with big gusts of wind and quick drops in temperature.  Only a few drops though. The owner of the KOA here is quite colorful.  With a red face and a very loud, theatrical voice it is hard to tell if he is overly friendly or inebriated.  Either way he later let us into his backyard where Henna befriended two German goats (Fritz and Dieter) and a very friendly steer.  Henna called this her favorite campground ever. Later we drove to a very cool park that had one of the tallest slides ever.  Although crowded, we were the only tourists there.  Hints like that of real life as well as the friendly but sequestered feel of Gunnison really made us like the town.  Tomorrow it is off to Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP and maybe Ouray.  We have high hopes for Ouray, we will let you know if it lives up to our expectations.