DURANGO, COLORADO

July 23^rd:   Drove the Million Dollar Highway today between Ouray and Durango surviving Red Mountain Pass notorious for its steep, breathtaking views of the San Juan Mountains.  Depending on who you ask, the origin of the name “Million Dollar Highway” varies from one extreme to another.  One person may tell you that the road cost a million dollars a mile to build, another that the land was purchased for a million dollars.  Another legend states that the fill dirt used to build the highway contains over a million dollars worth of old ore, however my favorite (stated by a poor lady who had no idea what she would be traveling over) was that she would not drive that road again in the winter for a million dollars. 

I can attest to its treachery.  It was the worst, even more daunting than RMNP.  Rule #1:  never pull over and stop on an uphill grade, especially if the pullover is gravel!  I had a moment of real concern that I was not going to move forward while listening to the sound of my wheels spinning in the gravel.  I’m cool and calm – not, wet my pants a little, backed up a bit and began again VERY slowly and gained some traction action and was on my way once again.  Whew!  The look on Molly’s face was priceless.  I don’t ever want to hear that dog expressions are all the same.  I did not hear three “arfs” so Molly must be good to go. 

   

                                                                                                   

 

Red Mountain Pass

Are we going up there?  Yep

We made it!  I'd like to throw my collar bow
down that hill.

Are you guys crazy?

Come on, outta here!

Forward Ho!

Saw my first fire sighting, actually I smelled it first, was near Durango but it seemed small and under control.  Other people seemed unconcerned – or pretended be.   Locals understandably down play the fires for fear of losing the tourist trade.

The Alpine Rose RV Park was a restful oasis and I submerged myself in a very long, hot shower that was every bit like a classy hotel.  My trailer has an adequate shower but you are limited to short efficient showers.

Tomorrow is a big day on the Silverton-Durango RR.

July 24^th:   I have another spa day and this place looks promising.  Good smells and friendly staff. Lots of tail wagging. 

Durango turned out to be one of my favorite places.  If it’s possible to overdose on beauty, happiness and excitement, I just died!  After much anticipation I was finally aboard the Silverton and Durango Railroad one of America’s last working steam engines. 

The town of Durango was a railroad town from the beginning.  The Denver & Rio Grande founded the town in 1880 as a base of operations in southwest Colorado and their long awaited 45-mile push into Silverton.  The Silverton & Durango rail line was blasted through the Animas Gorge sending huge rocks to the river below.  The narrow tracks with rails only three feet apart perched on an equally narrow ledge where you could reach out the window and touch a curtain of rock if you were goofy enough to try and the other window sported a view that was a shear drop down the canyon wall to the river.  Once out of the flat valley lands, the little engine-that-could emitted its own special brand of huffing and puffing shooting plumes of black steam as we began the steep climb to Silverton.   The Vista car aptly named because of the windowed ceiling gave us a domed viewed of the mountains and sky.  You might have been confused by the word “us” but “us” it was, me and five motorcylists from the East coast - Maine to Georgia.   They adopted me for the rest of the day including our two hour layover in Silverton.   Truthfully, I could not stop laughing at their jokes and antics.  They had a fresh audience in me and happy to perform to such a willing victim.  We saw a man swimming upstream in the Animas River and one biker called out for home security to check his immigration papers – and it never stopped.  Oh, the grandeur of it all.

    

New Friends, The Biker Dudes

They will be zip lining down through the canyon - by the way, that didn't include me.

Abandoned Iron Mill

It was a day full of sights and sounds to soothe all ailments.  I feel a great deal of gratitude for this day and many more to come.  

Showered and groomed Molly and I set out to find an evening adventure, one that included food.  Solely on a whim I turned at the Bar D Chuck Wagon dinner/theater arrow pointing off into the mountains.  After a few twists and turns we arrived.  Not sure what kind of place this was I left Molly in the car (evenings are quite cool) while I checked out the establishment.  Was that a motorcycle I heard?  Yes, one, two, three … five!!!  My biker dudes.  After a few chuckles about the coincidence, we walked in.  None of us had reservations but Mr. Ticket Man said their last table would seat six but was front and center.  Most folks shied away from that table knowing the entertainment picked on the diners in front.  We sat down with our tin cups, paper plates and food.  Steaks are still a little hard for me to digest so I ate mostly beans – a fact that was sneakily told to the entertainment.  Speaking about sneaky, I looked over as the last biker to sit down and who do you suppose I saw?  That’s right, Molly, sticking her head out of his vest and giving me the smuggest, most self-satisfied look she could muster.  She calmly stayed there all night.  I’m sure I locked the car --- but I didn’t ask and they didn’t offer, just grinned.  It makes me wonder about the purpose of locked cars. 

I expected the western cowboy entertainment to be kind of hokey and corny and I guess it was, but I loved every minute and bought two of their albums.  Oh yes, remember the beans I ate?  One of the guitar players, while on an open mike, offered Molly shelter for a night so I could suffer privately.  The bikers even blabbed about my trip so I took a little more good-natured heat before the night was over.  My favorite part was at the end when they sang several patriotic songs and asked all the veterans to stand (including two bikers) who all received enthusiastic whistling and clapping.  They do it every night.  Molly was not too enamored with me after being so spoiled and I’m sure she remembered the story of the beans. She shouldn’t have worried about me – guess what the bikers fed me all night?

July 25^th:  Back to the spa for me, I made friends yesterday!  The staff fussed over me again and said what a perfect guest I was and how sad that this would be my last day – and so on and so on.  Cut the chat, my tail is wagging high and I hear the guys in back – they know I’m here. 

I rushed to my hummer ride in the mountains.  The recent fires had taken a toll.  The forest was burnt, the wildlife had left and the guides seemed a bit dejected.  I was glad I went because tourism is their livelihood and I felt like I contributed a smidgen to their well being.  Besides, the hummer ride is where I met sweet 12-year old Jennifer and her mom Karen.  They were all smiles and full of optimism, especially Jennifer. 

    

Minor Fire Damage

First wild life spotted in this location since the fire.

 

I met Jennifer and Karen again later in the afternoon of my next adventure, river rafting.  The Animas River in early spring is usually a class 4 or 5 but in late July during a dry summer, it was only a class 1.  Just my speed!  Jennifer insisted on taking care of me, she said I was just like her Nana.  It was so sweet to see one so young so caring and protective.  Jennifer and Karen flanked me in the boat but I had NOTHING to hang on to except them.  I have an aversion to getting splashed but getting drenched is okay.  We bounced along bumping into every boulder in the river.  What a rush.  I would definitely do that again.