My month in Colorado

My take on Colorado

where I went this month

I had trouble with this photo because, if I added enough color to see the mountains, the yellow showing my routes got lost while, in this version, you can see the yellow but the whole state looks washed out.

Nonetheless, maybe you can tell I missed enormous chunks of the state - the whole southwestern corner and just about everything west of Denver, except between Grand Junction and Colorado City.  I was really sorry about those misses and I'm blaming it on the combination of snow and mountains.

Because it snowed when I'd only been in CO a few days, I didn't know what driving in the mountains would like if there were snow.  I had a route and reservations made for traveling west of Pueblo down to the Four Corners region and got stopped by what really was trip-stopping snow, even with chains and 4-wheel drive, neither of which I have.  So that section got missed.  And when I tried to come up with driving routes to - say - Aspen, I found roads that the AAA map said were closed seasonally, which I decided might well mean I could get in trouble there.  Sure all the snow melted, but I had no way of knowing that.  And now that I've driven on some of those mountain roads, I'm really glad I didn't attempt more than I did.

Colorado's land

Despite this state's reputation as the Rocky Mountain state, most of it is pretty flat.  Not having been in either Kansas or Nebraska, which it borders, I can't say eastern CO looks like them, but it looks like what I think they may look like - flattish land, rolling hills, and all the land used for farming of one kind or another (cows grazing come under the heading of farming).  Towns are few and far between, and pretty small when you find them.

The part of western CO I've been in is something like that too, but with the difference of amazing ancient river valleys, like in the Colorado National Monument near Grand Junction.  The Rockies and affiliated mountain groups stretch the length of the state just off its center, and I don't think it's possible to get from one side of the state to the other without going over a mountain or two.

And these really are mountains, unlike those in the eastern US that now seem somewhat cozy in comparison.  I'd think if you lived here, you'd need a reliable vehicle with front-wheel drive, a solid center of gravity, and real maneuverability.  Which isn't exactly what I'm driving at the moment.

It's beautiful country, though.  While I was driving on the mountains, I was too worried to enjoy them.  But once I could see them in the distance, I had no trouble seeing their beauty.  What surprised me is how much I enjoyed the beauties of the western side.  I've never been a fan of desert that isn't attached to an ocean and called a beach.  But western CO has a lot of fascination about it, and I can understand now what puzzled me before I went about why people would settle in Grand Junction, because its setting has a lot to offer in many ways.

Colorado's people

Everyone I met in Colorado, without exception, said they liked where they lived.  The complete opposite of the reaction I found in Oklahoma, which made it striking.

People were usually friendly and helpful when I asked.

I guess I got the impression people were proud of themselves for living in Colorado - including those who had been there all their lives.  Odd sort of impression.

Many of those I talked to were irritated that their town/area was growing rapidly.  Apparently, Colorado is one of those states that's experiencing lots of folks moving in from other states, and current residents don't like it one bit.  One person complained about dramatic increases in crime in her town and blamed it on rapid growth.  I even saw one bumper sticker that said, "You came to CO and got high.  Now please leave."  I took that to refer to legal pot use here, but it may just have been about the "Rocky Mountain high" John Denver sang about.  Still, folks here seem to be ready to pull up the drawbridge.

Surprisingly (to me), CO has one of the US's highest percentages of Hispanics, but only 4% of the population is Black, which I'm guessing is well below the national average.

CO has the lowest rate of obesity in the country, making me think all those folks I saw out doing one form of recreation or another weren't entirely a result of the weather or about being fed up with the quarantine.  The campgrounds were consistently full, any day of the week.  People were doing any of a long list of sports: fishing, rafting, canoes and kayaks and sailing and waterskiing, climbing, hiking, bicycling, soccer, horseback and motorcycle riding.  And that doesn't even touch on the winter sports.  Did you know that it's easier to hit a home run here than in other places?  Comes of thinner air at higher altitudes.  Whod-a-thunk-it?

Although many see CO as a lean-Democrat state, my impression is that it's a vigorous 2-party state.  I think, as in so many states, the cities (and 60% of CO's population lives in the Denver metro area alone) are likely predominantly Democratic, while rural areas are much more Republican.  An example of how that's playing out this election year is the US House district in the west and southwest that had a Republican incumbent.  Democrat Diane Mitsch Bush, who's served for years in the State House, is running against political newcomer Republican Lauren Boebert, who beat the incumbent in the primary.  Mitsch Bush's stated positions, like Joe Biden's, are moderate to liberal; Boebert, who owns a restaurant and is known for her waiters openly carrying guns, is strongly pro-Trump, anti-Pelosi and is walking back earlier comments supporting QAnon.  That's another race I'll be interested in seeing the outcome of.

Driving in Colorado

I was really surprised to find that the drivers here - the ones with CO license plates, not the out-of-staters - were pretty rude.  Several times I heard horns honking at intersections, which isn't something I've encountered in a long time.  Drivers tried to cut me off, wouldn't let me merge into a lane the highway was forcing me into, and a few even tailgated me.  Why bother being in the beautiful western US when you can get this kind of behavior back east?

And I can't throw bouquets at the highway department either.  I realize building and maintaining roads attached to very high mountains isn't an easy task.  And I realize these folks have entirely different challenges than do their counterparts in West Virginia.  But I quickly learned not to trust these road designers.  For instance, I agree I may have missed a few details about the state of the roadway when I was traveling back east over Monarch Pass, but I'm nearly sure there were some areas where guard rails were either low and inadequate or missing entirely.  I ask you, what's reasonable or trustworthy about a mountain road like that?  In my memory I can still drive part of that road and still feel the terror of those curves with no protection for me.

To be fair, away from the mountains and other drivers, CO's roads were pretty good.  While many of them are 2-lane, most of those have lots of passing lanes and signs saying a passing lane is coming soon, which probably prevents a lot of accidents.  In general the highway signs are adequate, and most towns have above average street signage.  

What I didn't see that I wanted to see

A long list.

   * In the southwest, I really wanted to see the Hovenweep National Monument ruins in the Four Corners area and now have to look forward to whatever of that culture is in New Mexico, Arizona and Utah.

   * Similarly, in the northwest, is Dinosaur National Monument, which CO shares with Utah.  But it would have meant a long drive to get there, and I'd still have had to be ferried into Utah to see the bones, and I wanted to stay in CO.  Just something I'll need to be sure is on my list for visiting UT.

   * The Colorado School of Mines in Golden is the location of the National Earthquake Information Center, which I'd wanted to visit.  But tours were available only by reservation, and that would have been more organization than I was ready to pull off.  But if I'd had a longer visit, it would have been on my list.

   * Of course, I missed Estes Park and Winter Park (which has a major program of skiing that's geared for disabled people) and Aspen and Gunnison and Telluride - all places I've heard of and still never seen.

   * I missed Grand Lake, Colorado's largest natural lake, which has the highest altitude yacht dock in the US.

   * Mount Evans has the highest paved road in North America.

   * I would have liked a tour of the Denver Mint, where there's the largest gold supply outside of Ft. Knox.  Stupid virus.  And Denver has several museums I'd have liked enough time to visit.

   * Boulder is the home of Naropa Institute, the only Buddhist university in the US.  I intended to go by but that was a victim of my getting lost there.

   * When the snow knocked out my route in the southwest, I missed the Great Sand Dunes National Monument, which includes some of the world's highest sand dunes - some up to 700' high.

   * West of Colorado City near the Garden of the Gods are the Manitou Cliff Dwellings, which sound interesting to me.  Also in that area is the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument, where I understand there are fossils of tropical plants, including palm trees.  Just think of what this world must have once looked like.

   * I would really have liked more time in Colorado Springs, where I felt comfortable for at least the brief time I was there.  There's something called Miramount Castle there; built in 1895, it has 9 different architectural styles (and they say it's only in modern times we can't compromise with each other).

   * I'd have liked to see the USAF Academy's A-shaped chapel, which I understand is world-famous.

In other words, I missed enough to make another trip worthwhile - preferably when there's less risk of snow (though that means more risk of too many other people).

My conclusion

I thought at first I'd like Colorado, because I assumed its fairly liberal social decisions (e.g. statewide mask mandate) would make me feel comfortable with the people.  But while this state has broad policies that are left-of-center, its actions don't always match its words.

For instance, I still can't believe I had so much trouble finding recycling facilities around the state.  I'd have thought a place with major interstates cutting across it would have little trouble sending recyclables to be processed.  Maybe so, but that means a lot of places could be recycling that weren't.

In summary, although I'd very much wanted and expected to like Colorado, I found it hard to get comfortable here.  It was almost as if I never knew where I was putting my foot when I took a step, because conditions I expected to find weren't there and things I didn't expect were there instead.  You might even see the mountains as an illustration: because I'd grown comfortable with those in West Virginia, I thought I'd be fine here too, even though these were substantially higher.  But I was far less comfortable, even than I'd allowed for because of the differences.  I just never seemed to be able to hit my stride here, and I'm very sorry about that.

Colorado - Day 29 - eastern CO south to La Junta

La Junta KOA, La Junta
Tuesday, 29 September 2020

Last night's state campground has been serious about the statewide fire ban: they've disallowed charcoal grills, campfires, fireworks and even smoking.  Fairly comprehensive.

A lot of Meadowlarks in this area, and to me their song is as smooth and refreshing as cool water.

today's route

On the road

I passed a field full of pumpkins.  All those orange balls among the green plants seem so decorative and holiday-ish.

With just fewer than 110,000, the city of Greeley is pretty fair sized.  It spreads out for miles.  I went through a huge subdivision west of town - before I knew I was coming near Greeley - and I was struck by the cookie-cutter appearance of the houses.  This wasn't a subdivision that used the same 3 or 4 designs and varied them intermittently and used different building materials, but instead the type that used the same design throughout, with the same building materials and colors everywhere, with street after street after street looking the same.  It reminded me of a Kurt Vonnegut short story in Welcome to the Monkey House, that I think was about a man who lived in an area like this and one day couldn't make his key work in the front door of what he erroneously thought was his house, so he climbed through the kitchen window, only to be met by the man who actually lived there pointing a gun at him, accusing him of having an affair with his wife and killing him.  Nothing Vonnegut wrote was exactly lighthearted, but everything had a ring of truth, and I sure wouldn't want to live anywhere that looked like this.

I've been passing fields of depleted corn stalks and beginning to wonder why I haven't been seeing masses of roadside vendors and farm stands as I have in other states.  The few I've seen have been well-established places instead of seasonal here's-what-we've-grown kinds of places.  Colorado's different in many ways.

Almost all the area I drove through today seems to be heavily in favor of Trump - I saw the signs all over.  Also one that said, "Save Our State - Vote Republican" and another that said, "All Aboard the Trump Train."  I thought it was odd that I was passed by a bus heading west that must have been part of the Trump campaign because it was plastered with banners and signs in his favor.  A little later, I passed another bus pointing eastbound but parked by the side of the road that also was plastered with Trump campaign signs.  What I thought was odd, aside from the fact that these 2 buses were heading in opposite directions, was why they seemed to think this was an area where they needed to spend energy drumming up votes.

And I saw many Sen. Cory Gardner signs, sometimes almost exclusive of Trump signs, which seemed odd.  Gardner and former-governor John Hickenlooper are running acrimonious campaigns against each other, but unlike the presidential race they're attacking each other's records, which I think is fair, though Gardner's been complaining about what he calls Hickenlooper's negative campaign.  I'll be interested to see how this one plays out.

All day I passed farmland, grazing land, scrub land, with rolling hills for much of the drive.  I saw a few horses, a few cows grazing in fields, and several feed lots - one with maybe hundreds of crates for veal, a process that seems so inhumane I stopped eating veal when I found out about it.  And I am definitely not a vegetarian, but there are limits.

I passed quite a few very large, very green fields, some of which looked like some crop I couldn't identify (maybe winter wheat?) but others looked like grass.  Then I passed a business called Graff's Turf and realized that I was very probably seeing turf farms.

I also started seeing oil wells - some working, some not.  And one enormous wind farm that the road first cut across (so I know that farm was miles and miles wide) and then made a turn to take me lengthwise down the wind farm (which also went for miles and miles).  There's an awful lot of wind power being generated in eastern Colorado.

I came to Fort Morgan, a town of about 12,000, with a sign that said "Boyhood Home of Glenn Miller."  Actually, his family didn't move here until he was 14, having lived in 3 other states previously, but it was while he was in high school here that he decided to become a professional musician.  And there are many still who are glad he did.  After all, it's thanks to him we have Moonlight Serenade, Chattanooga Choo-Choo, and In The Mood, among many others.  He had more hits in the Top 10 than either Elvis Pressley or The Beatles, which is remarkable when you realize he was in the middle of his career when his plane disappeared during WWII.  For more information, here's a link.   https://en.wikipedia.org/Glenn-Miller

I passed a highway sign saying "High Winds Possible," but what made this one unusual is that it had a wind sock attached - like you'd see at an airfield.  So I can state with certainty that high winds were happening at that time.

I also passed a large building with an old sign identifying it as Wagner Cane Sugar Plant.  That didn't make sense to me - though I wouldn't have argued if it'd said beet sugar - so I looked it up and found that sugar cane can't grow in this climate; it has to have some place much more reliably warm, like the American South.  So I don't know what that factory used to be about.

I passed what looked like a limestone mining operation beside the road, but I didn't see a sign and can't find anything about it online so don't know for sure.

At the town of Brush, elev. 4,231', I turned south on State Highway 71, which I was on for the rest of the day.  It was a 2-lane, no-shoulder, rough-surfaced road for much of the way, and the only reason I was glad I took it is that I wanted to see more of Eastern Colorado before I left the state.

I continued to pass farm land and scrub land and cows.  I saw fields full of square bales of hay and more oil wells.

A semi driver tooted thanks to me when I found a place to pull over so he could pass me.  It's so rare I get thanked that I find they're little mood-boosters.

About 20 miles along, I came to the town of Last Chance, which itself looks like it's had its last chance.  It's said to have 23 residents, and that may be right.  At the intersection of CO 71 and US 36 that was probably once its hub, there're nothing but abandoned buildings (and a large area where I and several others pulled off for a break).  But just beyond this point, in several directions, I saw houses where people still lived and a church that still looked functional, so I think this must still be a hub for this general area.  The good thing I can say about dying and dead towns is that I'm relieved to note that Nature reclaims areas we've abandoned.

At that pullout area, I saw a sign saying this was part of the Heartland Expressway - Ports-to-Plains Alliance.  Curious, I looked it up and learned this section is part of a project begun in 1988 and intended to create an international trade corridor from Canada to Mexico.  It runs from Limon, CO, through Nebraska and Wyoming, to Rapid City, SD.  From there it joins the road section that runs through ND to Montana's border with Saskatchewan.  South of Limon, it joins the road section that runs to the border with Mexico at Laredo, TX.  This part of the project has stalled because of funding issues.  That rough road surface I hit may be due to the stall.

As I continued south from Last Chance I discovered I was back in the land of "No Snowplowing 7 PM - 5 AM."  I saw those signs at intervals for the rest of the drive.

I saw another sign saying "Texas - Montana Trail."  This being news to me, I looked it up and learned it was used for driving longhorns from TX to MT from 1866 until 1897, which is actually a good long time for something I've never heard of.  There's an interesting story about the drives and about chuckwagons at this link.   https://www.brushnewstribune.com/TX-MT-cattle-drives

We stopped in Limon (pronounced "LIE mon") at an unused baseball field to stretch our legs and get some lunch.  I saw a crow without tail feathers have trouble getting off the ground and wondered if birds hate spring and fall molting periods or just get used to them as a part of life.  Limon, founded along a railroad track, was named for the local supervisor of the RR crew.  It was incorporated in 1909, but 9 years before that it was the site of a horrific lynching incident.  A 16-year-old Black boy had supposedly confessed to killing an 11-year-old White girl and a group of townspeople, deciding hanging was too good for him, took him from the sheriff and burned him to death.  So, no, lynchings weren't confined to the South.

After Punkin Center (amazing that variations on this name are in so many states), I saw what I thought was a young elk trapped in a field.  I saw it go up to a barbed-wire fence and trot around as if trying to figure out how to get out.  Some miles later I saw another one grazing peacefully in a field and suddenly the name pronghorn antelope popped into my head.  Sure enough, online photos confirmed that's what I saw, not an elk.

I didn't see the bend in the horn, but otherwise
what you see here is what I saw both times.

I don't think I've seen one before, but Colorado is apparently part of their territory.  The US Fish & Wildlife Service says they evolved alongside the cheetah, which may explain their extraordinary speed.  There's some interesting information about them from the National Wildlife Federation at this link.   https://www.nwf.org/Pronghorn

Finally the road came to Ordway, elev. 4,312', which I drove through earlier this month when I was on my way to Pueblo.  Then on to Rocky Ford, where I saw a sign saying "Good Luck Meloneers" which made no sense to me until I looked it up.  The local high school is known as the Meloneers, and you have to see their mascot.

Isn't that a hoot?  Sure enough, I saw a large field of pumpkins near town.

Then on to Swink, elev. 4,118', where Holly Sugar company once had a large factory for processing beet sugar - I saw the buildings with the label "Swink Sugar Factory" still easily visible.

Then on to La Junta, elev. 4,066'.  Not exactly sea level, but still somewhat lower than I have been for weeks now.  The KOA seemed like home in a way, since we were only here 3 weeks ago, but they were doing a lot of construction to install an old railroad caboose as a KOA Kabin, which temporarily changed the traffic flow and the character.  On the other hand, the campground was less than half full, which was a real change from a month ago, and made dog-walking much easier.

I'd intended to watch the presidential debate tonight, since Mountain Time means it'll be on at 7:00 my time.  But then I decided I wouldn't be able to stay awake for the whole thing but would instead go to bed and end up lying there sleepless from being all wound up and might as well have stayed up to watch the rest of it anyway.  So I didn't watch any of it.

Here's the odd thing.  Earlier today on NPR I heard an interview with 3 voters: a strong Democrat, a Democrat-turned-Republican-turned Independent, and a fervent Republican.  The latter, an intense Trump supporter, kept interrupting the other 2 to comment, criticize and contradict, and it was hard for the interviewer to keep order.  Not to get ahead of myself, but I understand that's almost exactly what happened during the Trump-Biden debate.  While many may have disapproved of Trump's performance, I feel confident the person I heard on the radio thought he'd done a great job.  And I'm glad I didn't watch it.

Colorado - Day 28 - Loveland & Fort Collins

Boyd Lake State Park, Loveland                                                              Monday, 28 September 2020

I had several goals today: take Lily for the appointment I'd made to get her claws clipped, pick up my mail David & Anna forwarded to me at General Delivery in Loveland, pick up refills for my prescriptions I'd called in to a CVS, drop off recycling stuff, and see a little bit of Fort Collins, which is another name I've heard of for years.  I got it all done, but it took 6 hours and involved a whole lot more running around than I'd planned, so I was pretty tired by the end of the day.  I still think the tiredness has as much to do with the altitude as it does with me, but I'm still tired no matter the reason.

today's route

So the Loveland Post Office was very pleasant and efficient and had my mail ready.

The CVS was not at all efficient.  I'd called them last Friday, they said my 2 Rx's would be ready by Saturday, but when I went in today one of them wasn't and would I please come back in an hour.  I gave them 2 hours but when I went back, they said they were out of that 2nd one and I'd have to come back later in the week.  When I said I was leaving town and wouldn't be back any time soon, they found another CVS that had the right stuff and sent me there.  Of course I got lost trying to find it, but that place turned out to be pleasant and efficient and I wished I'd gone there in the first place.

The vet's office - Raintree Animal Hospital, which seems an inappropriate name for this climate - was pleasant and efficient, but I had to get there first.  I discovered too late that I could approach it from only one direction (of course not the one I was going in), so I had to find a place to turn around.  Once I did, I discovered their parking area was just barely big enough for 2 rows of 5 cars, and the only reason I didn't get stuck in there is that all the spaces hadn't been filled up so I could back up into a spot.  But Lily got her claws clipped and her flea medicine applied and they charged me the usual $15, which seems to be about what everyone charges.  Worth it to both me and Lily, because she's been getting her claws caught in the screens recently (much to her irritation and my dismay about my screens).

I found the Fort Collins recycling facility and got rid of all my stuff, glass and plastic bottles and all.  A relief to my limited bathroom storage space.

As I was driving to these various places, which took me all over town, I discovered a business with at least 2 outlets called Serious Texas Bar-B-Q.  I learned that pets in general, and dogs in particular, are big business in this area, because I saw umpteen businesses that cater to them one way or another.  The Dog Pawlor (grooming) and Dogtopia (boarding) are samples.

I learned this whole area is full of lakes and reminds me of Orlando for that reason (though much smaller - Orlando has 100,000 people more than Fort Collins's 167,000 in the town plus 2,500,000 in the metro area).  Also a real difference in elevation, since Fort Collins is at 4,984' and Orlando is at 102'.  But both are built around a lot of small lakes.  Although Fort Collins seems to be growing by leaps and bounds, with apartments and condos going up everywhere, its downtown area is quaint and old-fashioned and pleasant.

The Northern Hotel is an example.  It's now been converted into apartments, but the building went up in 1873.  It's one of those triangular buildings.

There's also a pedestrian mall downtown that's a block of a street that's been blocked off from traffic.  Very attractive.

Colorado State University is located here on a large attractive campus right in the middle of town.

I also found a place called Annual Flower Trial Garden, that covers about half a city block with a park and vast numbers of flowers.

These should give a sample of this garden.  I wanted to get out but couldn't easily find a parking place and certainly didn't want to take the dogs with me, but at least I got to see the general idea.

This description of Fort Collins probably sounds pretty positive but the incredible traffic overshadowed all of that.  I was there early on a Monday afternoon and there's no reason why the streets and parking areas should have been clogged with cars, but they were.  Traffic was horrendous and it left me with a slightly unpleasant view of the town.

Loveland is 10 miles down the road, so it's quite a separate town.  It has less than half the population of Fort Collins, and the numerous lakes are more in evidence.  Altogether, it seems a more pleasant town.  I went back to Loveland for a grocery store, not wanting to fight the mobs in Fort Collins.

Then back to the campground.  I don't know why this campground was so underpopulated in comparison with every other campground I stayed in this month.  Maybe it was because the weather was turning much colder, maybe because people were finally getting that gotta-get-outside out of their systems, maybe because this campground is a little out of the way.  All I can say for sure is that there are 148 campsites in this campground, and I'd be surprised if as many as 50 of them were used either night I stayed here.

It's right on a lake (note the name of the campground), and right in Loveland so I had an internet signal (a bonus), but what I liked best were the mountains.

I don't know if you can tell, but there were at least four layers of mountains in these views.  At sunset, it was a stunning view.

Colorado - Day 27 - Boulder & Estes Park

Boyd Lake State Park, Loveland                                                            Sunday, 27 September 2020

Before I left the campground this morning I looked up the weather forecast and saw there's an air quality alert for exactly where I planned to go today.  The Cameron Peak fire (now 3rd largest in CO's history) that's west of Fort Collins is only 25% contained, and the wind's been sending out particulates from the fire to this whole area.  The weather people expected the problem to dissipate as the day went on because they thought the wind would shift southward.  Seemed to me that'd just send the problem down to Colorado Springs and Pueblo, but they didn't say anything about that.  But I have reservations for the next 2 nights at a campground right where the smoke's going now, so I may as well go and see what it's like by the time I get there.

today's route

detail of southern part of route

more route detail

Oklahoma State University Memorial Site                                                  This memorial turned out to be about 5 miles from the campground, so I went on over to take a look.  I can't say I've seen one quite like it, so I'm glad I went.

the memorial

the reason for it (the dots are from rain)

One of the life summaries shown
for each victim.

a second life summary

They had photos of each victim;
in the center is the OSU mascot.

Though it seems odd to see these "never forget" signs,
these 10 were killed 9 months before 9/11/01,
so the phrase had a different meaning then.

Pistol Pete is the OSU mascot and has a
fascinating backstory, which you can read
at this link.   https://go.okstate.edu/pistol-pete

It was nice of the mourners to remember to thank the local folks who made this site possible.  I was touched by the fact that many local people must have been involved in making this memorial a reality.  (Too bad about the rain, but I think these plaques are legible.)

To get to this site I had to go down a gravel road that had such a completely washboard surface I was surprised the residents it served put up with it.  I wouldn't have thought bringing in a road grader would take too much money.

Immediately across the road from the memorial was the Bijou Hill Dairy (and the smell of cows and the noise of their dogs barking at mine).  All very local-looking.

On the road                                                                                              I drove through northern Denver again, then on northwest.  We stopped in the town of Superior, with an elevation of 5,495', about 12,000 residents, and a history of coal mining.  What they also have are some upscale shopping areas, and we stopped at one that was nearly empty early on a Sunday morning.  The dogs wanted a walk.  So did I until I realized how strong the wind was and how chilly the morning still was.  Maybe partly because we were climbing again and heading into the mountains.

From there we went to Boulder, and I'd planned a route in town to see a little bit of the place.  Of course, my directions were wrong, I got lost and had to stop and get found again, but it worked out okay.  I passed the University of Colorado (the branch in Boulder is the flagship), which looked like the buildings had all been put up at the same time - they all looked alike, all a red/white brick, and an attractive campus.

I passed a church where an outdoors, socially distanced service was in progress.  A few people had brought folding chairs and (it looked like) blankets, because it really was chilly outside.  

I realized, when we stopped for directions, that I've seen more rabbits in CO than squirrels.  But I haven't spent much time in the cities, which probably accounts for it.

My take on Boulder is that it's an upscale college town, complete with a Peugeot dealer.  Pleasant but it felt like the character may be a little smug, possibly having to do with the fact that 88% of residents are Whites, 1% are Blacks, and 5% are Asian.  Not typical of an American town.

Continuing the drive northwest, I saw that one group of volunteer litter pickers-up was Sons of the American Legion.  While I grew up hearing about the American Legion, I don't remember hearing about this sons group.  Their website says they're male descendants of those who served in the US Armed Forces covered by an act of Congress.  Last year Congress changed the eligibility date to begin with Pearl Harbor Day and continue until Congress determines the US is not at war.  I know they meant to honor the military, which is important, but the idea that Congress thinks we have been and continue to be in an ongoing state of war since 1941 is chilling to me.  Anyway, these Sons pick up litter in this area.

The road from Boulder to Estes Park is 2 lanes, often with no shoulder, full of curves, s-curves, and switchbacks.  Luckily I was on the mountain side of the road and there were occasional climbing lanes to ease the pressure of me holding up traffic.  

In someone's yard I saw a beautiful huge weeping willow, which I wouldn't have thought would thrive in this climate.  Very high up on the hillside I saw a house that reminded me a lot of that house in North By Northwest.  It looked like almost all of it was perched on struts and stilts over the valley, and there's no way in the world I'd have trusted it in case of an earthquake.  Which are actually in the realm of possibility: the largest earthquake in CO history was not far from here in what's now the Rocky Mountain National Park.  

There was an electronic sign that said an elk had been struck 9/24 (3 days earlier), and drivers should watch for wildlife.  That made me, for one, take those yellow caution signs with an elk on them more seriously.

Estes Park

We entered the Roosevelt National Forest, and Estes Park is a small enclave in the middle of it.

I probably would have tried to go to Estes Park anyway, having heard the name for many years, but a young man I met in La Junta said it was a wonderful town.  He'd been in CO for the last 6 months, coming here from TN because he could make double the money he'd made in TN for his expertise in building roads.  Which is what he'd been doing when he was in Estes Park earlier this year.  He raved about it, so I put it more firmly on my itinerary.  Sadly, I was completely disappointed.  By the time I got there, it was a sunny noon-ish Sunday, and the town was absolutely packed to the gills.  In fact, I couldn't even get into town because of all the traffic.  

Actually, I couldn't get into the Visitor Center for the same reason.  Google had given me directions to the center that were accurate, but I didn't know they'd be useless - even dangerous - for a non-passenger vehicle.  I now think the Visitor Center has 2 levels and the lower level, where Google directed me, funnels all traffic into a parking garage with an 8' clearance.  There was a sign saying no RVs, but the sign wasn't posted until part-way down the driveway.  By then it was completely impossible for me to turn around.  I had no choice whatever but to drive into a walkway clearly reserved for pedestrians, on which people were pedestrianing and giving me ugly looks and saying ugly things, but the only alternative would be to enlist volunteers to stop all traffic into the driveway while I, with more volunteers, cautiously turned around to exit the "entrance only" drive.  I mean, I really had no choice.  When I finally got to the end of the walkway, I came to a shuttle bus driver who also criticized me, so I rolled down my window and told her what had happened and she said I could get out the way I was going (which seemed like a duh! kind of remark since that was the only possible way out).  I had trouble finding an opening in traffic to do the exit, and kept running into more and more traffic.  

I tried to park in the upper level parking at the Visitor Center but it was full so, in desperation, I turned into a shopping center across the street, only to find narrow rows with almost all parking spaces full.  But I did find a spot to stop in, turned on my hotspot and laptop, and found the quickest route out of town.  The critters and I wanted a break and a walk and some lunch, and it was impossible for me to find a place for us to get them.  I couldn't see anything else to do but keep going down the road.  What a disappointment.

So my very limited take on Estes Park is that it's entirely a resort town - complete with restaurants, t-shirt shops, signs for attractions - the whole resort town bit.  If I'd gone there on a rainy Wednesday, I may have had a very different experience, but this was mine.

Back on the road

I'd thought before I went that there may be a lot of people out looking for some fall color, but on the way up to town I hadn't seen any at all and was surprised.  But as I was driving out of town, I finally started to see some aspen turning yellow.  That was nice, but it took me a while to unknot from too many people, dogs and cars.

Then I noticed the cars in the oncoming lane nearly stopped, so I slowed down in case of an accident.  No accident but instead 3 elk grazing by the side of the road.  So yes, they're there.  And I started to see signs warning to look for Bighorn sheep, which isn't a sign I've seen before.

Big Thompson Flood

The road downhill from Estes Park was much like the one we took uphill - 2 lanes, no shoulder - but this time I was on the downhill side for much of the drive.  It follows the Big Thompson River all the way to Loveland, which means it twists and turns all the way down.

By now I was getting a little desperate for a break, still being a little shaken up by the trouble in Estes Park, when I saw a sign for a Point of Interest.  I don't usually stop at places on the other side of the road, because it's hard for me to get back on the road due to my limited field of vision.  But this time I grabbed it.  The parking place turned out to be a small parking lot that serviced the volunteer fire station that was there too, and when I pulled in I saw a memorial beside the building.

But first we needed to walk a bit, so we went to the even smaller parking area next door at the Big Thompson Canyon Association.

I'm guessing that building's been there a while.  It sits under a cliff, which could either protect it from storms or dump avalanches on it.

When I turned around I saw a little memorial that surprised me.

the base for the rock (below right)

the rock that goes with
that base above left

From there we walked back down the hill to the Point of Interest where I found a second memorial for the Big Thompson Flood.

This is the memorial . . .

. . . and this explains the flood.

detail of the base

a list of the victims

The bricks in front of the memorial were each dedicated to various people, and I was surprised to see most didn't have anything to do with the flood.  Instead, the memorial was erected on the 25th anniversary of the flood, and the bricks related to 2001, rather than 1976.  Here's a sample.

Back on the road

From that respite, we continued down the road, suddenly finding ourselves at the bottom of a very deep canyon of gray rock - undoubtedly created by the Big Thompson River, which continued to run alongside the road (or vice versa).

I passed the Sylvan Dale Guest Ranch, which seemed to be in an attractive setting, though I couldn't see the buildings from the road.  What I could see were some of their many horses grazing, and they all looked very well cared for.  It seems a little spendy - $1,675 for 5 nights in the spring and fall and $2,400 for 6 nights in the summer - but that includes meals, lodging, horses and other activities - all inclusive, I guess.  So not too bad if you can afford it and like horses.

I got to Loveland, 4,982' elevation, 77,000 residents, and found it to be situated around a bunch of lakes.  Apparently 7 of them, because I found several areas and businesses with their name including "7 Lakes" somehow.  I'd intended to do some errands but was so tired I just went straight to the campground for the night.

Colorado - Day 26 - in the Strasburg KOA

Denver East/Strasburg KOA, Strasburg                                                  Saturday, 26 September 2020

Today we'll be having almost an equinox with sunrise at 6:49 and sunset at 6:46.  Just a few days off schedule because of the latitude, I guess.

I've been feeling increasingly dry - my skin is dry, my mouth is dry even when I drink a lot of water, and I've even had a few nosebleeds and headaches. Today we're forecast to have 12% humidity here in Strasburg so yes, it's dry.  

Add to that the fact that Strasburg is actually higher in elevation than Denver - 5,381' - and the dryness contributes to my breathing difficulty, I think.  Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe increased humidity would make it harder, but right now it just feels like I'm being sapped of energy from not getting enough air to breathe. 

I don't know what this campground is like in normal weather, which everyone tells me this isn't.  But what it's like these days is dry dirt roads all around the campground with gravel campsites.  The dogs come back from each walk coated in dirt from rolling around in it.  I still don't understand how they can do so much better at coating themselves than I do when I try to batter a piece of chicken.  Anyway, Dexter's developed the habit of scratching up dirt after he's done some bathroom function - normal for a dog, but Dext goes overboard as usual and scratches and scratches and turns in a circle scratching the whole way around, while Gracie and I just try to dodge the debris and the resulting dust cloud.  It's hardest on Gracie who's down there on his nose level.

Between the incredible lack of humidity and the effects of the altitude, I'm starting to look forward to getting to Kansas.  I know it may be nothing but flatness and I'll miss the mountains a lot, but it'll be 3,000' lower in elevation and the forecast is for double or more the humidity.  Growing up in central Texas as I did, I've never thought of humidity as a friend, but I'm starting to change my mind.  And much as I love the mountains, I'm beginning to think I mostly like to look at them, not hang around on them.

There's so much dust in the cabin now that I've started thinking again about what life was like during the Dust Bowl.  It seems to be in my nostrils, in my throat making me cough, it's settling on the table, on every surface because anyone who drives around the campground kicks up dust.  And nothing stays cleaned off, once I've wiped it.  I've had the windows open because the weather hasn't been too hot, but I finally closed them to try to shut off some of the dust.

That turned out to be a good thing because about suppertime, the wind really picked up, probably part of a cold weather system coming in, and that kicked up even more dust.  I ended up wearing a mask when I took the dogs out for their last walk of the day.  Crazy situation.

I'd intended to clean the windshield because I knew I'd be heading into the mountains tomorrow and wanted them clean in case I took photos through them.  Except I finally decided not to bother because they'd just be layered with dust again by tomorrow, and I'd have been playing around outside in the dust when I didn't need to be.

For much of my travels I've seen signs here and there for Hunt Brothers Pizza, with people acting like that's a really great thing.  This campground offers it too, and I finally broke down and ordered one.  They delivered a 12" pepperoni pizza to my site for $10.31, which seemed reasonable.  And it was pretty good.  So now I know.  I looked them up and learned they're a chain with outlets in maybe 28 states, but they don't have restaurants of their own.  Instead they sell through convenience stores and campgrounds and like that.  I ate half the pizza and put the other half on a paper plate, because the box wouldn't fit in my frig.  When I was folding the box up for the trash, I saw on the bottom of it something about Hunt Brothers delivery to stores - I've forgotten already how it was phrased, but it made me think the company makes everything up beforehand and ships all the pieces to the outlets, so they aren't chopping onion and peppers themselves.   But the product was good.  And I watched The Martian to appreciate how Matt Damon handled an alien climate.

Colorado - Day 25 - through Aurora back to Strasburg

Denver East/Strasburg KOA, Strasburg                                                  Friday, 26 September 2020

today's route

detail of today's route

I had one main goal for the day, which was to finally - and belatedly - get my flu shot for the year.  I'd intended to get it in August, when this year's version first came out, but it was one of those things I kept putting off.

Lately, when I've stopped at several pharmacies for other things I've asked about it and been told each time it'd take 15 minutes to process the application once I'd filled it out.  I was always on my way to somewhere else and didn't want to take the time, and then here I was - end of September, with the main flu season just ahead - and I still hadn't gotten it.  So today I was prepared to wait however long they said it'd take.

Which turned out to be no time at all.  I don't know what the problem had been at other locations, but the CVS inside a Target that I went to today in Aurora took me right away.  I've never had the flu and don't want it now, but I especially don't want to be in the weakened condition flu puts you in, which might make me more susceptible to the coronavirus which I really don't want.  So now I have at least that layer of protection.

I drove along Hampden Ave, aka US 285, which runs through Englewood and Aurora in the southern Denver area for some miles.  It eventually makes a 90° left turn and becomes Havana St, which runs into Alameda (a street I lived on in Tacoma years ago), and then Sable St. to 6th Street, aka CO 30.  And that's the route I took.  From 6th I turned left on Picadilly Road (such an out-of-place name) that should have run into I 70, but there I ran into yet another batch of road work.  I made a couple of U-turns and ended up where I wanted to go, but the signs weren't at all clear.

I understand Colorado is coming up on the end of the time when road work is possible, but they sure seem to be doing a lot of it. 

I saw the only personalized license plates I've seen here.  It said K9 CAB.

Colorado's official license plate is the one we've all seen for years.

I've seen many variations on it - for veterans and firefighters and other groups like that.  None of them uses the green/white colors, but all have the mountain outline along the top.  Even their temporary plate - the paper ones you get when you first buy a vehicle - has the mountain outline along the top.

I passed something called the Lotus School for Excellence.  I'd heard that there's a Buddhist university somewhere in CO and thought maybe this was it.  Instead, it's just a charter school for secondary education that says they don't charge tuition and take kids on a lottery system based on the space available.  

That sounds fine to me, except I'd heard elsewhere that since the 1990s, Colorado has allowed private schools and charter schools to be funded with public money.  Not surprisingly, that's resulted in public schools that aren't funded well enough to be doing a good job of educating students.  Now, 27% of the Hispanic students and 32% of American Indian students fail to graduate high school, and these numbers are an improvement over the previous decade.  My personal opinion is that it doesn't make sense to fund non-public schools with public money, but I realize that view isn't widely held these days.

When I'd gotten back out to Strasburg, I saw a sign I'd missed before, telling me by going down a particular road I'd find the Oklahoma State University Memorial Site.  When I thought about it, a memorial to an OK school in CO didn't make sense, but I saw online it's not far from the campground, so maybe I'll swing by there when I leave.

Colorado - Day 24 - Chatfield State Park

Chatfield State Park, Littleton                                                            Thursday, 24 September 2020

I've never seen a campground laid out like this one.  It has 4 camping loops, each consisting of several concentric circles with pull-in campsites at intervals along each circle.  The circles are connected by 2 cross roads that lead to the center of the total loop where the shower rooms are.  Here and there along the circles are other bathrooms, but these were closed for some reason.  Maybe there were just too many to keep clean to coronavirus standards.

This campground was nearly full, even though last night was a Wednesday.  The loop I was in offered only electric hookups - we were expected to fill up our water tanks before setting up camp.  The other 3 loops were full hookups, though - electric, water and sewer. 

This state park offers a wide variety of activities: a hot air balloon launch area; a model airplane field with paved runways; 345 bird species and numerous wildlife species; an off-leash dog area; facilities for stabling your own horse and for horse riding rental; trails for hiking and bicycling and various winter sports; a lake & marina with both motor and sail boats.  This park, like all the state parks I've seen, insists on mandatory boat inspections for aquatic nuisance species.  I've seen a sign saying, "Don't Move A Mussel," which is fairly clever.

A park brochure included some history of the area.  In 1858, early settlers found gold near both Cherry Creek and South Platte River, which meet in Denver but start south of town near where the state park is now.  The Arapahoe and Cheyenne in the area warned the settlers it was "bad medicine" to build settlements here but, as usual, the white men paid no attention to anyone who wasn't white.  It took a while for the bad medicine to catch up, but catch up it did.  Floods occurred in 1933, 1935, and 1942.  Finally in 1965, Plum Creek (also in this area) became so swollen that when it flowed into the Platte, the river jumped its banks, causing 13 deaths and $300 million in damage, which is a lot of damage in 1968 dollars.  I guess folks figured it was too late by then to move Denver, so the US Army Corps of Engineers built a dam, creating Chatfield Lake in 1975.  And the moral of that story is, pay attention to people who came before you.

While we were there, I'd have been grateful for even a drop of rain, but the drought in Colorado continues.  Instead, what I saw were deer, rabbits and (by smell) a skunk.  I think the dogs found something else, but it was dark and I couldn't see what got them so excited.  Probably just as well.

There were a lot of Magpies here, and I saw and heard Western Meadowlarks.  I first saw them near the Texas Gulf Coast and ever since have thought they have one of the prettiest bird songs ever.  So it was a real treat to hear them again here.  And they are really pretty, aren't they? 

Western Meadowlark

Colorado - Day 23 - Denver

Chatfield State Park, Littleton                                                                  Wednesday, 23 September 2020 

today's route

detail of today's route

I spent the day almost entirely in Denver, which is sprawled out as large cities do when they've got the room.  The 2019 population estimate put the city at 727,211, and a 2018 estimate for the metropolitan area was 2,932,000 - indicating this area needs its space.  Denver has 17 suburbs and 2 enclaves (like the Vatican, or the Park Cities in Dallas), several of which I also drove through today.  Denver has the vast majority of the population and the business interests in the Front Range area (the area immediately east of the Rockies), and the Front Range is where 85% of CO's population lives.  So yeah, a lot of people.  And the traffic to prove it.

But US News & World Report ranked Denver #1 in 2016 on its Best Places to Live in the US, and it's #2 this year, behind Austin, TX.  Actually, Colorado Springs is #3 this year.

I stopped off first at a Target to get the liners for Lily's Litter Genie (one of life's basic needs), then drove through a residential neighborhood northwest of downtown.  The houses seemed like nice little 1930s and '40s era houses, but almost all had security gates at their front doors, which seemed an ominous sign.

I passed a yard sign that I think said, "Vote For An Adult 2020" - not one I've seen before.

I passed the Denver Zoo and the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, both places I'd want to visit if I were spending more time here.  I passed the National Jewish Health buildings and learned it's one of the top respiratory hospitals in the US.  Wonder if that's a legacy from the TB patients that once came here.

I turned into a residential neighborhood with very nice old houses and duplexes (the kind that were built as duplexes back about the turn of the last century or earlier).  I came across 2 traffic lights some distance apart, but the oddity was that other traffic lights were few and far between, and both these were in the middle of a block and seemed to have been installed specifically for pedestrian crosswalks.  It was just a 2-lane residential street, so that seemed excessive.  But based on the houses, I'm guessing that the residents in this area have a lot of money and, therefore, influence with the city.  There were little areas of small stores here and there, as the urban neighborhoods in Boston, for instance, are set up.  

The Molly Brown House Museum was one of these, and you can see by this internet photo what kind of houses were in this area.

Molly Brown House Museum (online photo)

This is the Molly Brown of Titanic unsinkability fame.  I saw the Debbie Reynolds movie in the '60s, but I've now learned that that movie had little attachment to reality - not really a problem because it was entertaining, but the real Molly Brown deserves, and apparently got, a lot more respect than the movie gave her.  I didn't realize until I read the article at this link   https://mollybrown.org/about that the Ludlow mining strike I mentioned earlier this month owed its settlement at least in part to her efforts.  She seemed to have an amazing life.

As I was driving from her house toward the capitol building, which is only a few blocks away, I noticed this dome (below left) above the nearby houses.  I knew it had to be the Capitol, and later I was glad I'd gotten that view because I couldn't see it when I got near the building.

Once I'd driven around a few blocks, I ended up right in front of the Colorado State Capitol, but my RV cut off my view of the dome, no matter how hard I craned my neck, and there wasn't any place I could pull over nearby.  Needless to say, these photos are off the internet because the only way to take them would be on foot, which I couldn't do.  Parking is a big problem in this town, and not just for me - I heard about it in several places.

This building was completed in 1894 and was designed intentionally to be similar to the US Capitol.

Colorado State Capitol

From there I wanted to see the US Mint Building.  Tours have been canceled due to the coronavirus, but I at least wanted to see what it looked like.

The Denver Mint (online photo)

And this is it. This building covers an entire city block and is the single largest producer of coins in the world.  It actually has an interesting history, given that its predecessor produced a whole lot of gold coins for the best part of 50 years before Congress got around to designating this place an official branch of the US Mint.  I had to read the entire Wikipedia article to find out, in an aside, that this mint was robbed of $200,000 in 1922.  Here's the link.   https://en.wikipedia.org/Denver-Mint

Completely by accident I heard about this Big Blue Bear not far from the mint and went looking for it.  [I'd try to make this page look better, but fighting with this alleged "interface" is just too much trouble right now so we'll just have to go with what IT wants to do, instead of what I want to do.]

Big Blue Bear (online photo)

It was true.  There really is a 40' blue bear looking in the windows of the Colorado Convention Center.  The sculpture's real name is I See What You Mean and it was made in 2005 by an artist who has since died.  I have to say that even though I got closer to the bear than this, it seemed really cute to me.

Here's the convention center itself.

Colorado Convention Center (online photo)

You see where the cars are on the right?  That an actual street - Stout St. - that runs underneath that whole side of the building.  When I saw that's where Google wanted me to go, I came up with an alternate route in case I found it had a 10' clearance or something.  But when I got there, I saw that the ceiling was tall enough for buses (one passed through as I watched), so I turned on in, and it was fine.  Weird, but fine.   

After the bear, I continued to drive through downtown and kept running into major areas of road construction, including one huge section at the convention center that would be in this photo if I'd been able to take it.  It's a good thing I wanted to turn right to drive by the bear, because that's the only direction they'd have let me go.

And besides all the road work, Denver is a maze of one-way streets.  I didn't even think they were all that predictable - you know, this street one way in one direction and the next street in the other direction - no, apparently that would be too logical for Denver's traffic engineers.  The same people who didn't think it was necessary to time the traffic lights on a Friday afternoon.

I drove by a big batch of police who seemed to be dismantling a tent city in an apparently otherwise unused area downtown.  I saw more homeless people here in Denver and its surrounding towns than I have in quite a while.  I don't know why there'd be so many here, because the winter climate can't possibly be easy on them, so am assuming there must be a lot of social services around here.  There must be a "no panhandling" ordinance because I didn't see any asking for money.  They were just everywhere.  I found online that Denver is one of the most expensive cities in the country, beating out even Austin, which I think has gotten way out of hand, and that fact likely answers my question.

While I was waiting at a traffic light, I saw this sign for an art gallery that looked interesting.

(my photo)

Never having heard of Clyfford Still, I looked him up.  I'm more a fan of representational art than abstract, but if I were planning to spend my month in Denver specifically, instead of Colorado generally, I'd probably go to this place to be educated.   https://clyffordstillmuseum.org

I drove by Coors Field twice today.  It's relatively new, having been built in 1995 for the major league baseball team Colorado Rockies.

Coors Field (online photo)

Only a few blocks from Coors Field is this classic place (below).  Denver Union Station was built in 1914 and is still being used as a train station.  But isn't it beautiful?  It's now considered a Beaux Arts masterpiece.

Denver Union Station (my photo)

From there it was just a few blocks to Confluence Park, where Cherry Creek and South Platte River meet, and Commons Park, which follows the S. Platte for quite a way.  I'd hoped to be able to let the dogs out for a bit either in the parks or the nearby neighborhood, but I was completely wrong.  In common with the rest of the town, there was almost no parking available, and when I did manage to find a space I could squeeze into, I noticed probably 70,000 dogs being walked to or in or from the park.  I couldn't even let my dogs out of the RV because of so many dogs.  This is quite clearly the place to go - even on a Wednesday.  But we'd been driving around for quite a while now - ever since the Target - and we all needed a break, but I just couldn't find a place to get us one.

My route took us past St. Joseph Hospital, where I found the most amazing Art Deco building.  A sign said it was the Mullen Building and I'm very sorry that the only photos I could find online were copyrighted.  But I did find this article about it with lots of photos, and you may want to take a look.   http://www.masonryofdenver.com/mullen-building

I was aiming for Cheesman Park.  I thought I'd heard of it, though now that I've looked it up I don't know why: it was originally established in 1858 as a cemetery, but I guess the graves weren't tended and the place became an eyesore.  Likely the town was building up nearby, too, which may have created the impetus for the city to move the graves elsewhere and establish this area as a park in 1907.  There are local theories, though, that the person hired to move the bodies scammed the city by not doing all the work, because occasionally bones are still discovered in the park.  

It looked really nice to me, and I hoped it'd be a place I could park and let the dogs out (by then we were all getting a little batty).  Unfortunately, I found myself the victim of yet another batch of road work that had the park entrance blocked off, as well as several surrounding streets.  I turned off into what I learned later was the Capitol Hill Neighborhood, not far from the Molly Brown House.  Once an elite part of town, there are mansions that still look as if they're single-family homes, but most of them have been converted to apartments and condos.  I saw a few apartment buildings that were probably built in the '60s, but mostly the original buildings still seem to be there.  This whole area, focused as it is on multi-family residences, is what's called a dense urban neighborhood and reminded me a lot of Boston.  Lots of people, but also lots of trees and the original character of the area is still there.  Lots of nearby stores and parks, too, including the one I couldn't get into.

Between the road closures and the one-way streets I got lost, which made me feel even more pressure to find a place to stop and regroup and finally! - like magic - a legal parking spot appeared.  What a relief!  The dogs got their walk, Lily and I used the litter box/bathroom, we all had some lunch, and I pulled out my hot spot and laptop to figure out where we were and how we could get to our next stop.  All in all, a very productive and stress-reducing stop.

It turned out I was only a few blocks from where I'd intended to be, so rerouting myself was easy.  From there we drove down Cherry Creek Drive, which (surprise) runs alongside Cherry Creek.  Unusually, the road ends here and there, and a couple of times I had to cross the creek to pick it back up again.  Denver's Recycling Dropoff center is one of the less scenic locations along this road.   

I didn't know until I got there that it's supposed to be for Denver residents only, and they want to see proof.  Luckily, there wasn't anybody sitting at the entrance station, so I went on in and cleaned out my bathroom/recycling storage area again.  You know, I'd figured Colorado to be enthusiastic about recycling, but that's not what I've found.  The only campground I've been to this month that offered a place for recycling was the Grand Junction KOA.  None of the state campgrounds offers it, and even a town the size of La Junta didn't.  Not in keeping with that environmentally aware image Colorado seems to be presenting.

From there I went through the "Village of Glendale, settled 1859," according to their sign.  I was curious and looked it up and learned Glendale is one of the 2 enclaves in Denver.  It's its own home rule city.  Looks like a nice little place (pop. 4,100).  

Then on through Englewood, which is higher than Denver with an elevation of 5,306'.  I stopped at a Safeway, and from there headed south to Littleton and Chatfield State Park, which is even higher at 5,450'.