Colorado - Day 12 - Across the Continental Divide

Crawford State Park, Crawford                                                Saturday, 12 September 2020

Mountain Bluebird

Yesterday when I first drove into the Royal Gorge KOA, I saw a Mountain Bluebird perched on a tree at just my eye level.  I'm just not used to seeing them so it was a pleasant sight.  You can see how much more grey they have on them than Eastern Bluebirds, which also have red on their chests that these don't.

today's route

I drove closer to the Gorge when we left the campground today because I'd seen a sign yesterday saying there was a rest area before the visitor center, and I was looking for a place to walk the dogs without running into a whole campground's worth of dogs.  The KOA was nearly full last night, and it seemed like half of them brought big dogs with them - seriously big, one was a St. Bernard.

Anyway, I found a large parking lot where somebody's failed dream of a resort was supposed to have been, so we stopped there.  The sun was at the right angle to catch the mica deposits in several large rocks there.  I haven't seen that much mica since I was a kid.  When I took these photos, I thought the sun was glinting on them, but that doesn't seem to show up.

The whitish/silvery spots are the mica deposits and were very gaudy in the sun.

On the road                                                                                             I followed US 50 for most of the day, and US 50 follows the Arkansas River for much of today's drive.  It seems so odd to see it, because I've been running into it in Arkansas, of course, and Oklahoma, and I guess I'll see it again when I visit Kansas.  It starts not far from here, runs 1,469 miles, and eventually dumps into the Mississippi River.

Here it's much closer to its headwaters so it's not very intimidating.

Arkansas River just west of Bighorn Sheep Canyon

I shot a short video showing the surrounding mountains/hills and especially showing the river babbling away over those rocks in its path, but I've tried 4 times to attach it here and this stupid new "interface" must be what's making that not happen.  But you can maybe see it's not very wide or very deep here.

I've been getting frustrated with CO drivers.  They don't seem to understand that when another driver pulls over in a legal passing area, with a turn signal on showing intention to pull off the road (as much as possible), that that driver is expecting the following driver to go around.  I've tried over and over to allow CO drivers to pass me when I've been going at or below the speed limit and they just don't seem to understand the concept.  The drivers that do pass are usually driving cars with license plates from Texas or Oklahoma or some other sensible state.  Silly CO drivers.

Along the road I started seeing large flocks of swallows swooping over the Arkansas River for bugs and I saw a Great Blue Heron perched on a big rock in the river.

The small town of Cotopaxi, at 6,348', is just over 1,000' higher than Cañon City so, although it had felt to me like we'd been descending since I left the KOA, just the opposite was true.  Odd.

These mountains started showing themselves as we continued west.  I always think mountains look better with a little snow on them, as you can see these do.  

We needed a break so I pulled into the US Forest Service office at Salida (pronounced with a long "i").  I noticed a major solar array and wondered if those at the top of power who are denigrating solar power are aware that lower in the organization chart, down where day-to-day decisions are made, a lot of bureaucrats are opting for the obvious economic benefits of alternate energy in places where, as here, there's a lot of sunshine.  

In the parking lot there were some small piles of snow that had been pushed out of the way by a snowplow and hadn't melted yet, and I saw a small flock of Mountain Bluebirds hanging out there.  It looked like they were hanging out, anyway - just perched on the snowpiles, looking around, not doing anything.  You know, hanging out.  

I took a video of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, which I think is what's in my photos above, but again I can't seem to upload it.  I can watch it myself, and I've shown in previous posts that my videos will upload, but I'm convinced it's this wonderful new interface that's causing the trouble now.

Meanwhile, I picked up some information about the mountains at the Forest Service building.

a roadside sign I saw said those with 
university names were called
the Collegiate Peaks

A short way farther down the road we came to the town of Poncha Springs, Crossroads of the Rockies, they claim, I assume based on north/southbound US 285 meeting east/westbound US 50 there.  Poncha Springs is at 7,465', so I'd already climbed more than another 2,000'.

A highway sign said "Ease Up Lead Foot - Enforcement Is On."  The state of Colorado has some odd highway signs.

At the turn to Mt. Shavano there's a chain station, which I took as an ominous sign for what could lie ahead.  It turned out to be the first of several chain stations.  I was sure there was no snow ahead, but with this big pull-out area and signs giving the facts on mandatory snow chains, I figured there was steep road coming.  And I was right.

We kept climbing and my ears started popping and Dexter turned to look at me at just about the same time, which I took to mean he was having trouble with his ears too.

It's a 2-lane no-shoulder road up to Monarch Pass at the Continental Divide and I was lucky to be in the lane hugging the mountain.

A car with an Alaska license plate passed me and the car in front of me, which had a Florida license plate.  I guess the Continental Divide is a reasonable place for the 2 to meet.

I passed fields of horses and vineyards and houses scattered along the road.  Then I came to a series of signs:

   "Truckers - Curves Tighten"

   signs with U-turn arrows, one leading around left saying 30 mph and another leading around right saying 35 mph

   "Motorcycles - Sharp Curves Next 2 Miles" 

And if you think I didn't find all this a little ominous (again), well, you're wrong.  But I made it around all that and stopped gratefully at a "Point of Interest" to rest.  This one had a sign about the explorations of Zebulon Pike.

detail below

With all these mountains before me, and the result of tectonic plate energy easily visible, I started wondering whether they have earthquakes here.  Later I learned that, yes, they do.  In fact, it looks like the fault lines run from southeast CO near Trinidad up to northwest CO near Grand Junction.  In fact, just in the last week there was one in Trinidad and 3 in San Luis (due west of Trinidad), with one of 2.7 magnitude being the only one of the 4 over 2.0.  In fact, it doesn't look like any in CO have been as large as 6.0, which is moderately reassuring.  Up on these mountain roads isn't where I'd want to be when the earth starts shaking.

I passed an abandoned mine with its buildings falling apart and wondered if the mine played out or if the price of whatever substance is/was in the mine became too low to make it pay.

When I got to Monarch Pass, elevation 11,312, the road immediately started heading downhill, almost as if we'd hit a peaktop.  Signs said, "6% grade next 6 miles," followed by "6% grade next 5 miles" and "Trucks use lower gear" and double s-curves.  From here down to Gunnison, we dropped 3,600' so, once again, my ears started popping.

I started seeing some flat land where hay was being harvested, baled and stacked.  I noticed some farmers were making round bales rather than the square ones I've been seeing since I got to Colorado.

I passed a turnoff for Waunita Hot Springs.  Aside from the poor Spanish spelling, it seems to be a family-owned destination that boasts a large swimming pool fed entirely by hot springs.  Probably a prime destination in the winter, even for locals.

I heard on the radio that this year's official Christmas tree for the US Capitol will be coming from Colorado.  It's an Englemann Spruce from near Delta, south of Grand Junction.

I came to Gunnison, pop. 17,462 (2019 est.).  Today was a sunny Saturday so the large municipal park was busy with kids playing soccer and many sitting in the sun eating lunch.  With the Western Colorado University here, it appears to be what it probably is: a small college town that is also heavily dependent on tourism.

I saw a small herd of cows that I thought at first were bison because of their long hair.  But I'm pretty sure they were just cows because they didn't have that football-linebacker physique that bison do.  When I looked them up, I found that Highland cows from Scotland look like that and started to be imported back in the 1800s.  Makes sense they'd be comfortable in the cooler climate here, with all that hair.

I passed another field of horses: 4 of them were lying down, appearing to bask in the sun, while 6-8 others were standing around staring at them.  I don't usually see horses lying completely prone so it was an odd sight.

I passed a sign saying I was in the Curecanti National Recreation Area, which seems to cover an extensive amount of land and has numerous separate areas for boating, hiking, camping and so forth.  One area is called Bay of Chickens, though I don't know why.

Townsend's Solitaire

I saw a bird that I'm pretty sure was Townsend's Solitaire.  I remembered them from Alaska, luckily, because it looks like your basic solid gray bird and I'd have had trouble figuring out what it was.  And yes, they do tend to be solitary birds especially, apparently, during the winter when they defend vigorously their food-containing territory.

I noticed the leaves were starting to turn yellow, though most are still quite green.  I guess that sudden snowfall didn't have as much of an effect as I'd have expected.

At another Point of Interest, I found some signs explaining the Dillon Pinnacles across a lake from us.  

this is what I saw

one of 2 signs . . .

. . . and the 1st sign's text

the 2nd sign, details follow

detail #1

detail #2

detail #3

detail #4

detail #5

For some reason I take pictures that are slightly off-kilter - no reflection at all on my personality, I'm sure.  But when I try to straighten them up in editing, I end up cutting off words.  But I think you can get the gist, which is that the Dillon Pinnacles formed over a very long period of time.  One instance of age being beautiful.

The fact that the pinnacles sit right above a big blue lake (Blue Mesa Reservoir, Colorado's largest body of water) makes them even more dramatic.

A little farther down the road I came to the dam that created the reservoir and was stunned by the jewel-like shade of blue of the water there.

the west end of Blue Mesa Reservoir - the water
was a more intense blue than this photo shows

It was here that I turned off US 50 (for the first time since I left La Junta) to head northwest toward tonight's campground.  I almost didn't go this route because the AAA map showed several hairpin turns on a secondary road, and I was worried about possible snow or ice.  I decided to go for it anyway because I'd seen all day that, even up at Monarch Pass, the road conditions were just fine and, by then, it was afternoon on a warm sunny day so even this road should be fine.  And it was, as far as snow and ice were concerned.

But there were still definitely those hairpin turns of the AAA map, and much of the drive involved increasing altitude.  At least, that's what it felt like.  In reality, the campground is 90' lower than the reservoir, but the drive sure didn't feel like that.  But I was lucky and continued to be on the mountain side of the very narrow roadway.  

The road seemed to follow a very deep canyon that had plowed through the mountains and was packed with double s-curves and 90° turns and switchbacks and highway signs warning to take various curves at 25 mph and 30 mph and 20 mph.  There were 2 consecutive signs warning of a double 90° turn - the 1st turn left and the 2nd turn right.  Then I started seeing signs warning of elk, warning of cows on the road, signs saying "Motorcycles Use Extreme Caution."  Are you getting a feel for this road?

When I got to a pull-out labeled "Hermit's Rest" I broke my usual rule of not pulling out on the opposite side of the road (in the past I've had a lot of trouble getting safely back on a road coming from the opposite side).  I needed a break.

I was surprised to see a patch of cattails along the road up here.  I associate cattails with marsh or streams, and this area is definitely desert-y mountain.  But I guess they found a patch of water.  Wonder if the Red-winged Blackbirds I always see with cattails manage to make their way this high up.

I'd seen signs that mentioned the upcoming Black Canyon National Park, or the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park (conflicting signs).  Officially, the 2nd name is correct.  The Black Canyon, created by the Gunnison River, got its name from the fact that some parts get only 33 minutes of sunlight a day.  According to one author, none of the canyons of the American West "combines the depth, sheerness, narrowness, darkness and dread of the Black Canyon."   https://en.wikipedia.org/Black-Canyon  

When I saw this view from Hermit's Rest, I figured it was a prelude to the Black Canyon farther along the Gunnison River to the west.  And the sign (below) agrees.

this is what I saw . . .

. . . and this is what the sign said

Really nice view, isn't it?

Once I got past Hermit's Rest, the road stopped climbing and started dropping slowly.  It gradually leveled out into grazing fields, some with nice-size herds of cows.  And sure enough, it wasn't long before I passed a sign saying "This Is Beef Country."

There was even a big herd of cows across the road from the campground; we could hear them moo-ing now and then.  I needed something bucolic after that drive.  We were only on the road 6 hours, including breaks, but unremitting s-curves on mountainsides aren't my preference.