Riding high in Telluride

One of Gerry’s co-workers, who is originally from Colorado, told us Telluride was a must-do on our trip. He promised gorgeous scenery and great camping. He didn’t tell us we’d discover one of our favourite towns we’ve visited to date.

Telluride used to be a mining town, but now, sitting at about 10,000 feet above sea level, the remote mountain town is now a ski resort, with ski runs used as hiking and biking trails in the summer.

We got a campsite right on the edge of town, right next to the narrow, crisp river that gave us a cool breeze during the hot afternoons. The campground was actually next to a major park that had a swimming pool, ball diamonds, picnic areas, and a fishing pond, yet we were in such a forested area, you would have thought we were far from any stores or businesses.

One of our favourite things about Telluride is the way it feels like a community. The whole town somehow seems built with the purpose of getting people outside and talking to their neighbours.

There was very little traffic, and lots of bikes and people walking. The gondola, a free service connecting the main town to the mountain village and other stops, offers stunning views of the mountain, plus a chance to get to meet locals and tourists in town for the wine festival. Many people took their bikes on the gondola to ride them on some of the mountain trails while others (like me) left them locked up at one of the many well-used racks at the base.

There are several plazas in the villiage with cool things like giant Scrabble boards and Jenga blocks, bungee trampolines, obstacle courses, and climbing rocks. It felt natural and pleasant to stroll around and relax. Amazing, eclectic restaurants, watering holes, and art galleries felt welcoming and natural.

And though the town’s architecture reminded us of Whistler, it also felt rich in history and much less crowded and commercial than Whistler. We were told that aside from when some of the festivals are on, the town is never really busy, even during ski season when lineups at the lifts are short and pleasant.

In short—we loved this town and have all said it’s a must-return destination.

People are People

Mesa Verde National Park is a series of Native American communities that were built in 1200AD in southern Colorado. The amazingly well-preserved ruins are built into the rocky overhangs of cliffs. I saw some pictures and thought “Huh. That looks cool. Maybe this will be educational for the boys.” I didn’t realize visiting Mesa Verde would leave us all so moved and humbled.

Our first stop was called Spruce Tree House where we got an introduction to how the structures were built and some of the common elements, including the kivas—round rooms built into the ground with seating and room for worship and socializing.

From there, we drove to an overlook to view Cliff House, one of the best preserved ruins that remain. Seeing the building from further away gave us an appreciation  for how well the structure is integrated with the mountainside.

Our final stop was a tour described as “strenuous” and not for the faint of heart. Balconey House is only accessible by tour with a ranger, and involves climbing two ladders, including one that’s 32-feet tall, squeezing through small tunnels, and standing precariously close to the Cliffside with no railing. Dave described it as the “Indiana Jones tour” and said many people change their mind when they see the ladder.

It was a tight squeeze and a bit nerve-wracking, but being able to walk inside the ruins, peer inside rooms, and see evidence to people living and working there, like the soot on the ceiling and the handprint in the clay, made it worth every skipped heartbeat.

But what really made the tour special was Dave. Dave is part Native American, part Caucasion, and he spoke with such a tenderness for the ruins, the land around us, and the people who lived there before, that we were all captured by his stories and his life lessons. He was able to bring the ancient people who lived there to life for us in our imaginations and left us with the message that “people are people” and we have different ways of doing things, but it doesn’t mean one is better than the other.

I wasn’t sure how much of Dave’s talk really sunk in with the boys, but a few days later, when we asked the boys what some of the highlights of the trip were so far, they both said “that really good tour guide.”

Huh, pretty cool.

                                   

More adventure in Moab

Moab was full of rugged young guys and women who seemed to always be on the lookout for the next big adventure—rappelling down into a deeper canyon, climbing a higher arch, biking a narrower trail, or riding a bigger current. I spent most of the time feeling like I wasn’t quite bold enough to be there, but wishing I was.

Our campsite was gorgeous. It had a swimming pond—not pool—in a picturesque setting, shaded by trees, and with a canoe that the boys (ahem…Gerry) managed to flip a couple of times.

On the semi-adventurous side, we did do a river rafting tour. Well, it was more of a river floating tour, with a few rapids thrown in for good measure. Just to add some excitement, one of our tour group members went for a swim a little too far from the boat, ended up riding the waves with his lifejacket, and had to be thrown a rescue rope and pulled in, where our guide gave him a tongue-lashing about “putting the entire boat at risk.”

Overall, it was a really relaxing, pleasant day, with a stop for a picnic lunch on a beach part way through.

Later that night, we went for a jet boat sunset tour. Our guide was hilarious, and, with no other boats on the water, we felt like we had the entire river to ourselves. We even saw a beaver (“Justin Beaver” our guide told us. See? Haha.) As part of the tour, we finished off with a cowboy buffet back on land, with barbecued pork, beef, chicken, and all the fixin’s, including cheesy potatoes. Yum.

So maybe I didn’t earn my Adventure Woman cape this time. That’s OK.

 

 

Hiking Capital Reef

June 22

The morning we left Lake Powell, we decided to stop at the Glen Canyon dam and do a tour of it. This is the third time I’ve toured a dam, and every time, I’m amazed at the engineering that went into designing each dam.

Afterwards, we continued on to Capital Reef National Park for more cool canyons and rock formations. One of our first stops was to see some pertroglyphics on the canyon wall. The carvings were over 600 years old, and luckily hadn’t been defaced.

From there, we went for a four-mile hike called Grand Wash, where the further we went, the narrower the gap between the 80-story canyon walls got. As the sun got hotter, and our water lower, we decided to turn around and head back before the end.

For lunch, we stopped in a picnic area next to the Fremont river and ate under the shade of several cottonwood trees. It was a refreshing break after our grueling walk, and it was made even more pleasant by the sight of four deer walking by and grazing on the grass.

The highlight of the day was our afternoon walk though. It was a .7 mile hike in Sulphur Creek through red, occasionally muddy water that offered welcomed relief from the heat. At the end was a small but strong waterfall and a swimming hole that we had fun dunking ourselves in and soothing our tired bodies. There was no one else there, so we felt like we’d discovered our own private spot to enjoy.

We capped off the day with a fabulous Mexican feast at a local restaurant in honour of Father’s Day.

Let's all go to the lake

(June 20)

Most of this trip has been unplanned. We came with an idea of a few places we wanted to make sure we got to, but only a couple of reservations, and nothing set in stone. That way, if something cool struck our fancy, we could easily make a detour and not worry about needing to be somewhere. Lake Powell was one of those detours.

The night before we were planning to head to Capital Reef National Park, I happened to read an article about Lake Powell—a cool oasis in the middle of the desert. Figuring it would be a refreshing change from the hiking and dirt of the past few weeks, we decided to hop over and spend a night there.

Lake Powell is the result of the Glen Canyon dam being built on the Colorado River. After the dam was built, it took 17 years to fill the lake to capacity, meant to provide enough water to 250 million people in places like LA, Phoenix and Las Vegas for 10 years of drought. Because it fills a canyon, it actually has more miles of shoreline than the entire Pacific Coast of the States.

When we got to Lake Powell and saw the deep blue water surrounding mound after mound of rock jutting out from it, we quickly decided to stay two nights instead. Our guide book gave us two options for campgrounds: one on the beach with no set sites or services, known for parties, and one a “posher” RV park, resort and marina. We decided to treat ourselves and stay at the more upscale one.

Shortly after settling in, we took the shuttle bus over to the hotel part of the resort, which the kids quickly declared made them feel like they were rich and famous. We spent hours in the gorgeous pool overlooking the crisp lake dotted with houseboats, yachts, speed boats, and jet skis. We had slushy drinks, we sat on couches in the shade, we chatted with other travelling families, and we get treats from Starbucks. It was a lovely escape, like we’d been transported into a tropical resort in the Caribbean, rather than an RV campground in Utah.

The next day was more of the same, with a boat tour of the lake between the Canyon walls, down narrow passages, and up to the dam. It was gorgeous, and Aiden declared he’d already learned more on this trip than he would have at school.

And after dinner, when the boys were asleep, I finally got the laundry done between sips of wine and sitting around the campfire enjoying the stars.

 

Yes, it was grand

I was afraid that after spending a week going from canyon to canyon, the Grand Canyon would be a bit of a letdown. Plus, the boys were already saying they were canyon-ed and hiked out. However, since we had white-out blizzard conditions the last and only other time we’d been to the Grand Canyon, we knew we had to go.

There is no way the Grand Canyon could possibly be a letdown. It was gorgeous, yes, but what really struck me is just the sheer size of it. We stopped at the visitors’ centre and did a short hike where we oohed and ahhed for an hour or so, then drove some more, got off at another stop, and oohed and ahhed even more. Just when we thought we were done, we did one more stop, and got, as our brochure promised, a “spectacular view” with yet some more oohing and ahhing.

I left feeling utterly humbled.

One of the cool things about doing a trip like this is discovering cool and unique campgrounds. On our last major trip, we nicknamed one scary, yet amazing spot the “Deliverance” campground, and we still laugh about the deck precariously dangling off the side of a cliff, ready to fall into the ocean.

While not even close to Deliverance, the campground we stayed at after the Grand Canyon was certainly memorable for the boys. I should have caught on when the receptionist told me three times on the phone that “There are absolutely no refunds.”

The spot promoted itself as an RV park, which, in our minds, comes along with certain amenities. It also promoted itself as being “On the Grand Canyon’s North Rim.” When we passed it about 45 minutes before the entrance to the park, we realized the mistake we’d made in not confirming its location.

The rough, gravel road we had to take to get there was our first sign that something wasn’t quite right. The extensive list of rules was another. The boys read them all over and were aghast at how many there were. One of the workers escorted us to our campsite and watched to make sure we didn’t put our sewer line down on the ground. The gravel spot was on a major slope, so it took awhile and a lot of effort to get it level.

Then the boys came back from the bathroom, which turned out to be an outhouse with a sink outside warning it was for drinking or washing dishes only—NOT for washing hands. There was a series of communal firepits in the middle of the campground.

Finally, when I went to the laundry room to do much-needed laundry, I was dumbfounded to discover that the laundry room closes at 7:00 (most RV parks’ laundries are open until at least 10:00, if not 24 hours).

At least it was in a lovely, shady location, with a forested field of horses adjacent.

I should say none of this really would have mattered much, had it been what we were expecting based on its website. Clearly, they took some creative license.

Theatre under the stars: desert edition

Every summer, Gerry, Jaxon and I got to a musical at Theatre Under the Stars in Stanley Park. It’s become one of our favourite summer traditions, something we look forward to every year. When I learned there is a similar theatre in the middle of the desert near Zion, and it was showing a Disney production called “When You Wish,” we jumped at the chance to go.

The amphitheatre is built at the base of a red rock mountain, with the back of the stage open to use the rocks as part of the stage. It’s in the middle of the desert outside of the city, with very little fanfare—there are no giant billboards advertising the shows, and no

The show was a collection of songs from favourite Disney movies over the years, with choreography, special effects, and costumes—all done to Disney’s usual exceptionally high standards.

In one scene, actual horses galloped across the back of the stage through the rock. In another, a waterfall built to look like part of the mountain burst, releasing a flood of water onto the stage, setting the scene for Pocohontas to ride her canoe across the stage. In still another, a curtain of rain (with real water) poured down as giant fish swam behind in and mermaids glided across the water for “Under the Sea.” There was a flying carpet, Mary Poppins descended from the sky, and a shooting star and fireworks closed out the show.

Absolutely amazing. Totally worth going to.