I now understand the whole "Mile High City" thing. Maybe I'm the only one who didn't get it. A lot of Colorado is over a mile above sea level. The north rim of the Grand Canyon is, too. Big deal. The elevation on the Denver city limit sign (they put elevation on the signs here, not population) is right at 5280 feet. Now I get it.
Timothy McVeigh and lots of press were in Denver as I was leaving. I thought about hanging out for the trial, but I decided against it.
The "MountainCam" of the local CBS affiliate showed that the fog had cleared out of the mountains. I guess it had where the camera was.
Normally I hate interstate highways. They are bland, boring, monotonous. I-70 west of Denver isn't like that. It is very pretty, but I wasn't on it very long.
Sometimes the sheer force man has put into building roads amazes me. In this stretch of I-70 lie a tunnel and several places where a hundred feet of stone have been blasted off the side of a mountain. This road follows the contour of the land to a point, but the land has been forced to follow the road in many places.
I left I-70 to take U.S. 40 north and west. Immediately I encountered several switchbacks and started doing some serious climbing through fog that the MountainCam somehow missed.
Suddenly
I was out of the fog. The sky was a clear deep blue and was filled with brilliant
white clouds. The road rounded a small valley and climbed the other side.
Looking back across the valley I could see the fog, a dense cottony white cloud completely covering the way I'd come. I hope the pictures turn out.
The scenery through this part of the trip was absolutely breathtaking. I don't know if I can find the words to describe it, but I'll give it a shot.
The tops of the mountains were snow capped, just as they are in all the pictures. Below the snow is a dense cover of ponderosa pine. The trees were dark green, tall, thin, and impossibly straight. At this distance they looked identical, as if a mold had been made of the perfect tree, and thousands had been made from it. Or maybe as if someone had cut one and pasted them all with a paint program.
The Continental Divide on U.S. 40 is at Berthoud Pass, elevation 11,307. There was a building and a couple of ski lifts, but nobody was around at this time of the morning. I performed a brief Continental Divide Crossing Ceremony and continued on my way.
Near Hot Sulphur Springs I crossed the Colorado River. It was about twenty feet wide. It's hard to believe that this tiny waterway is what created the Grand Canyon.
For a few miles after Hot Sulphur Springs I drove through Byer's Canyon. The road descended down the south side. A train bed was already following the bottom of the north side. The north side of the canyon was very steep, but trees grew at any spot they could get a grip, sometimes seeming to grow on a vertical surface.
The tall, snow-capped mountains and ponderosa pine gave way to smaller, rounder mountains and foothills, with scruffy vegetation and fold-like creases. The shadows from the clouds crept across this scenery, following the contours of the land, making it seem more three-dimensional. This is the kind of thing I'll never capture with still images.
Not much of this land was planted, but a lot of it held grazing horses, cattle, and a few sheep.
I began seeing yellow signs with hand-painted black letters advertising a store in Steamboat Springs (still sixty miles away) called F.M. Light & Sons. Most just said something like
STETSON HATS
F.M. LIGHT & SONS
STEAMBOAT SPRINGS
but others gave the address or listed more items. I must have seen three dozens signs before I reached Steamboat Springs.
I started climbing again. I suddenly noticed that the ground was completely covered with snow, and the snow was completely covered with ski tracks. The ponderosa pine were back, along with large homogeneous stands of bare grey-white quaking aspen. I think I hit the Continental Divide again as I passed through Muddy Pass and Rabbit Ears Pass, but it wasn't marked.
As I started descending, I saw aspen with leaves (I think), but I didn't notice them quaking.
I approached Steamboat Springs and discovered that Lincoln Avenue, their main street and U.S. 40, was under construction from one end of town to the other. At least it was two lanes much of the way.
I stopped at F.M. Light & Sons (I had to) and found that it was just a western wear store. I had suspected this, but I was a bit disappointed to find out I was right. I bought a few postcards.
I wandered around Steamboat Springs for a while, visiting the museum (closed) and the library (quaint). I hope they have a sulphur spring near the library. If they don't, then someone needs to work on the pipes.
Steamboat Springs was the last ski town I passed through. My next stop, Craig, was among the smaller, scruffy mountains.
I had
thought visiting Craig would be fun, but after a few pictures of "Welcome
to Craig" signs, the novelty wore off. The Cowboy museum is closed on Mondays.
Northwestern Colorado has a chain of convenience stores called "Kum & Go". I am not making this up.
The speed limit was 65 west of Craig and there was almost no traffic. I set the cruise control right at 65 and enjoyed the ride. There were a few hills that the car couldn't quite make it up in fifth gear, but not many. The turns and climbs and drops were all broad enough that I didn't have to slow down to take them.
This all came to an end when I hit a serious construction site. I had to wait ten minutes for the escort truck (this seemed familiar). During this interval the traffic had compressed and would remain that way.
It didn't matter, because within ten miles I was at the Colorado entrance to Dinosaur National Monument. This isn't the part with the fossils, but I stopped and bought some postcards, anyway.
The
winter hours (I know, but that's what they call them) for the quarry site
in Utah are 8:00am to 4:30pm. It would be 3:15 by the time I got there, so
I decided to put it off until tomorrow. I drove through Dinosaur, Colorado,
to Vernal, Utah (state number 41!)
I
drove by the Dine-A-Ville Motel, famous for its giant pink dinosaur, but
it looked too ratty. I didn't even want to see a room. Instead, I chose the
second cheapest motel in town, the Sage. It's only $30 (still a bit much,
but this is a tourist town) and is listed in my AAA guide book. Just listed.
The rooms are clean and, with a little work (always carry a screwdriver),
I got the computer hooked to the phone line (obviously).
Mostly I liked the woman working the desk. I found out from her that the power plant is being rebuilt and the town is full of construction workers.
I had time to visit the Utah Field House Museum before it closed and take a tour through their Dinosaur Garden. I also picked up some more postcards and some terrific bright orange cartoonish dinosaurs (the official symbol of Vernal, if his appearance on every other business is an indication).
I walked around the downtown area, stopped at a nice little family restaurant staffed by easily amused teenaged girls, and returned to write this.
Tomorrow I go to Dinosaur National Monument to see the fossils! After that I have to fight the temptation to head north and loop through Wyoming and Idaho. I'd like to spend tomorrow night somewhere further south in Utah to give me time to see the sights before arriving at the Grand Canyon Wednesday evening.
Tonight I may even write and mail some postcards.