NATURE -- PERFECT!

Oh, the scents…and the view!  But, I’m getting ahead of myself…

I left the La Junta KOA around 9:15 a.m. [on Monday, August 8th], got gas, took the wrong road for about two miles, turned around, and got back on track on Rt. 350 W.  This highway is a flat 85-mile two-lane stretch from La Junta to Trinidad.  I’m glad I decided not to drive on this highway yesterday afternoon.  I was pretty tired then and would not have enjoyed it as much as I did this morning.      

Approximately 20 miles of the highway traverses through the Comanche National Grassland.  I stopped at two sites within this region – the Sierra Vista Overlook and the Iron Spring Historical Site.  The overlook provides a view of the expanse of the grassland and, if one is lucky, a view of the Rockies, about 60 miles to the southwest.  Fortunately for me, it was a clear morning with not one cloud in the sky and I could just make out the range of the Rockies.  This being the Santa Fe Trail, that mountain range is what the wagon trains saw when they came this way.

At Iron Spring, I parked near some informative signs and learned that the wagon trains on the Santa Fe Trail had come through this spot.  Another sign pointed toward wagon wheel ruts and there was a footpath that went in that direction.  I got on that path, sidestepping assorted cacti and old and fresh cattle dung and other scat, until I reached a rectangular stone pillar.  There were no wordings on the pillar but it was obviously put there for a reason.  I had my binoculars with me and as I looked around I found two more of these pillars.  They were aligned in a straight line and spaced about 100 yards apart.  The pillar I was standing next to was right beside a dip in the earth, what I would have described as a ditch.  Because of the placement of those pillars, I came to the conclusion that that “ditch” was actually the wagon wheel ruts.  I’m further convinced because midway between the first and second pillars was a granite marker, a gift from the Daughters of the American Revolution, recognizing that spot as the Santa Fe Trail. 



The "dip" in the ground, just to the right of the stone pillar, are wagon wheel ruts.  Santa Fe Trail, Iron Spring Historical Site, between La Junta and Trinidad, CO. 

On the approach to Trinidad, I’d reached the foothills of several peaks and ranges that are part of the Rocky Mountains.  Driving west through Trinidad, I crossed I-25 which, by all accounts, is the North-South interstate that separates the flat eastern Colorado from the Rockies and the west.  So, in other words, my brief travel around eastern Colorado has come to an end.  I’ll be traveling up the higher altitudes from this point on. 

Oh, the scents and the view!  If you flash your best smile, if you’re polite, and if you compliment the young lady helping you register on her attempts to use the sign language she has since forgotten, you just might get a fantastic site at the campground.  It probably helped that I arrived at the Lake Trinidad State Park early, and on a Monday, too.  But, with lots of open sites around the campground that the young lady at the Visitor’s Center could have assigned to me, she gave me what has got to be one of the best – a site along the edge of a bluff that overlooks Lake Trinidad and the nearby Fisher’s Peak.  As soon as I backed into my site and stepped outside the truck, my senses were overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of piñon pine trees and the palette of various shades of green and blue colors all around me.  With sunset still some hours away, the cloudless sky was a clear blue, which brought out the sharp features of Fisher’s Peak and nearby hills.  Looking down at the lake from the bluff’s edge, sometimes the water appeared green and other times blue.  Beyond the lake’s sandy south shore [on the other side] was a hillside and the trees and other vegetation there were a mixture of light and dark green, tinged in spots by the tan-brown colors of rocks and soil. 

 

Fisher's Peak and a partial view of Lake Trinidad, as seen from my dining area window.  Lake Trinidad State Park, near Trinidad, CO. 



A branch of a piñon pine tree, standing on a bluff above Lake Trinidad.

It was a gorgeous morning [on Tuesday, August 9th] and I decided to cross the dam and check out the lake’s south shore.  After about 45 minutes of driving around there on dirt road, I returned to pavement – Rt. 12 – and headed northwest.  Colorado has 25 scenic byways and loop drives, most of them around the Rockies, and Rt. 12 is designated the “Highway of Legends Scenic Byway.”  It’s a winding two-lane highway that climbs several mountain ranges and levels out through beautiful valleys.  Along the 82-mile route are several towns, most of which have certain historical significance.

Not long after beginning this drive, I stopped at one such town – Cokedale, an old coal-mining town.  There are coal mining sites in this region, but the company operating the one in Cokedale closed that mine in the ‘40s.  The people who lived there wanted to stay…and so they did and I’m sure many of their descendants are living in the same houses today.  It was a little bit hairy driving around that slightly hilly neighborhood because the streets were rough and narrow and assorted vehicles were parked on either side of the street.  The houses are small and close to each other and many of the yards were littered with ornaments and general junk.  The town’s redeeming landmark, however, are the remnants of the coke ovens which “…transformed coal into coke for use in smelting iron.”  The snake-like structure of these ovens is really unique because it looks like an ancient Roman aqueduct.    

I stopped for photo ops here and there, admiring the views of lakes, vistas, and interesting rock formations.  At the village of Cuchara I walked around a little bit and had an excellent BLT for lunch.  Whenever the angle of the road was in my favor, as I drove along, I could see the Spanish Peaks, two identical looking mounds that can be seen for miles.  As a matter of fact, I first noticed them as I approached Trinidad the previous day.

Remnants of old coke ovens, Cokedale, CO.

North Lake, one of several lakes seen along the "Highway of Legends Scenic Byway."

 

Rock formation called Devil's Stairsteps, "Highway of Legends Scenic Byway."

This lovely highway ended at the junction with Rt. 160.  I turned east and soon arrived at the Lathrop State Park, near Walsenburg.  The state park has two lakes, one of which has a swimming beach.  None of the camp sites have a view of either lake and I also learned that it would be a ¾-mile walk to the beach.  Not feeling very enthusiastic about such a walk while carrying my blue chair, towel, book, and bottle of water, I decided to just drive there and hang out until I was ready to go to my site.  I think I stayed there for a good two hours.  The water was pleasantly cool, the sand had a fine texture, everything was clean, and I had shade. 

At my campsite I sat outside for awhile, writing summaries and reviewing my maps.  All I saw, in addition to the Spanish Peaks which were right in front of me, were two robins.  When I went inside my camper, not a minute later, a Black-billed Magpie appeared.  I observed it through my dining window.  When I went back outside, it disappeared.  Back inside my camper, several Magpies appeared.  These birds are quite beautiful and I think they’re a member of the crow family.  They’re rather large, solid black with white markings, and they have a very long tail. 



The moon directly above a sun-kissed cloud, as seen and admired from my site at the Lathrop State Park.

I woke up [on Wednesday, August 10th] to a cloudy morning, so cloudy I couldn’t even see the Spanish Peaks.  No matter, I’m not changing my plans for today…and it’s a good thing I didn’t because the sun came out eventually.

Like Nebraska, Colorado has sand dunes, too, but without the carpet of grass.  Going west on Rt. 160, I then connected to Rt. 150 N to the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve, located near Alamosa.  Truly an ecological wonder, these sand dunes are described as being the tallest in North America.  The approach to the sand dunes is quite awesome because the dunes seem to suddenly rise from the flat, desert-like terrain of the San Luis Valley, through which Rt. 160 traverses.  And right behind the dunes are the peaks and ranges of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.  The contrast is remarkable – smooth soft gold against a rugged forest of green trees and brown rock. 

I’d already decided I wasn’t going to stay at the campground here but I did want to take a walk on the dunes.  The tallest dune is 750 feet, or 1½ miles from the base.  From where I stood, at the bottom, it didn’t look so daunting.  But, sand, soft sand, is difficult to walk on, and especially when you’re going up, and then down in order to reach the next ridge.  I gave myself one hour, and then extended that to 90 minutes, to see how far I’d gone.  Not even a quarter of the way!  I didn’t permit myself to feel disappointed.  We all have our limits and I well know mine.  Regardless, from my vantage point, the view of mountains and dunes was fantastic.  I sat down for a few minutes, dug down a few inches and discovered damp sand.  I’d welcome a breeze anytime, but when a slight wind kicked in, it blew the sand in all directions and that stung a little bit.  Good thing I was wearing sunglasses and a cap! 

Sand dunes, rising from a flat valley floor and looking majestic in its own right against the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.  Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. 

One can only feel humbled by these towering sand dunes!

By 5:00 p.m. I’d arrived at the South Fork Campground and RV Resort, in South Fork.  They’re right on the Rio Grande River, but that’s not why I picked the campground.  They advertised free Wi-Fi access, but I haven’t been able to connect.  Ah, well…

I said it before and I’ll say it again – stuff (I’m being polite this time) happens when you travel.  In addition to the bite I almost got on my head from a tick, I’ve been bit by mosquitoes, flies, ants, and who knows what else.  Over the past week I thought something had bit me in the eye as well because my eye had become red and irritated.  Like any bite on the skin that eventually heals, I thought the bite in my eye would, too.

Waking up [on Thursday, August 11th] I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know my eye wasn’t healing as I thought and hoped it would.  It was redder, more inflamed, and more watery.  Alrighty, Mary Anne, it’s time to do the sensible thing and seek help!  I’ll find it in Gunnison, the next big town I’m headed for.  Since my vision was still fine, getting to Gunnison, about 140 miles north, via Rt. 149 – the “Silver Thread Scenic Byway” – wasn’t going to be a problem.  Putting up with the discomfort, I did manage to enjoy this three-hour drive up and over several passes and winding through several valleys and meadows, stopping a few times at scenic overlooks. 



 

Admiring the view of mountains and peaks along the "Silver Thread Scenic Byway."

Ten minutes after turning east at the junction with Rt. 50 I was in Gunnison.  Driving slowly down the street, passing gas stations, motels, stores, restaurants and fast food places, I soon spotted the blue sign with the white “H” and turned in that direction to the Gunnison Valley Hospital.  There was some renovation going on and the confusion on my face prompted a nice older lady walking by to lead me to the wing housing the Emergency Room.  Within the hour this tall doctor with a short salt/pepper beard called me in.  One look at him and there was no question I was in 21^st Century Colorado!  He was in hiking shorts, just like me, hiking shoes, just like me, and wearing a short-sleeve plaid shirt.  No more doctors in white coats with a stethoscope around their necks!  He diagnosed conjunctivitis and prescribed eye drops for the next seven days.  After getting the medication I then went to the nearby KOA and got a site there for two days.  As I write this, it’s Friday, August 12^th and my eye is feeling and looking much better!

But, that’s not all!  On top of my eye problem, my camcorder now won’t function.  The flashing indicator tells me the problem is not something I can fix; I have to take it to a Sony dealer.  To find the positives in this, I decided to just be glad that these incidents happened at the tail end of my camper travel, not at the beginning.  

I almost put off getting gas [on Saturday, August 13th] but decided I best make a U-Turn back to Gunnison and fuel up.  Wise decision!  From Rt. 50 W at Gunnison, I got on Rt. 92 N/W -- the "West Elk Loop Scenic Drive."  Each scenic drive in Colorado has its characteristics but it seems every time I get on the next one, I’m just blown away by the scenery.  This particular drive today is the sort that gets my adrenalin going – it’s a narrow two-lane road, very winding and climbing and many times I had to slow down to 20 mph to maneuver curvy turns or switchbacks.  Concentration is a must and admiring the scenery is a choice.  I think I managed to do both!

I stopped at a scenic overlook to look down at a canyon with a river at the bottom – the Gunnison River.  Folks who have a height phobia probably wouldn’t like this spot -- there was no guardrail around the edge of the bluff.  Talk about paranoia…I kept looking behind me to make sure nobody else was there!  Eventually, I turned into a county road and arrived at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.  Picking up information at the Ranger’s Station I first drove to a trailhead to walk on the self-guided Chasm View Nature Trail and then drove along the North Rim, stopping at other overlooks. 

Black Canyon is an awesome gorge – carved over 1.7 billion years by nature and a powerful, fast-moving river.  The gorge is deep, 1,723 feet from rim to river, and it’s called “black” because “…it is so deep, so sheer, and so narrow that very little sunlight can penetrate it.”  Signs everywhere ask visitors to please not throw rocks over the rim because “…there are hikers below” and “…even a small stone can be fatal to someone below.”  There are trails for the experienced hiker and some people also climb the smooth rock walls.  A wilderness-use permit is required for these activities.  There was a picture of a rock wall climber at the Ranger’s Station and I asked the cute young fellow there if he does that.  He smiled and nodded his head.  All I could say to that was “Wow…”

I would have liked to stay at the park’s campground but all 13 sites were taken.  Right, it’s summer and it’s Saturday and a lot of people find the sound of a raging river very soothing.  I returned to Rt. 92 and soon arrived at the Crawford State Park, near Crawford.  There’s a small lake here, or rather, a reservoir, with a swimming beach.  But, I’m not supposed to go swimming until my eye heals.



The Gunnison River, flowing between two canyon walls, as seen from the edge of a bluff.  Somewhere along the "West Elk Loop Scenic Drive." 

The black canyon walls and the raging Gunnison River, Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, near Crawford, CO.

The deep gorge of Black Canyon of the Gunnison.



 Tis a cloudy Sunday morning [August 14th] and this time it does look like rain is a possibility.  Driving through Crawford on Rt. 92 I soon got on Rt. 133 N, which is still part of the "West Elk Loop Scenic Drive."  Despite the day’s gray and slight drizzle it was still a lovely drive.  I stopped at Redstone, a quaint village listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  Surrounded by red rocks (hence the name?), Redstone was also a coal-mining town and the long row of beehive-shaped coke ovens, just outside the village, are presently being restored.  Along the village’s main street are art galleries, shops, a bed-and-breakfast, a museum housed in what used to be somebody’s log cabin, a café, and a good number of delightful and colorful private homes.  Nearby are the historic 1902 Redstone Inn, which I visited, and a 42-room, Tudor-style mansion, which I didn’t.  I had lunch at the café.  BLT again!  You can’t go wrong with BLT – unless it’s me making it. 

Coke ovens being restored in Redstone, CO.

I soon reached Rt. 82 W, the highway to Glenwood Springs and found my way to Ami’s Acres Camping.  Oh, dear, I’m not able to connect to the internet here.  Jeez, it must be the mountains all around me…or maybe it’s the weather…or a lousy wireless network…or all of the above.  The lady in the office said I might have better luck in the shower house.  Really?  That could be interesting but I don’t think I’ll bother now that I’m in my “jammies” and I’m all dry and comfy inside my camper. 

The weather obviously cleared overnight and when I looked outside my cabover window [on Monday morning August 15th] the first thing I saw was a sun-kissed mountainside with misty clouds at the top.  I stepped outside to admire the view around me and to take pictures.  As I got ready to leave about an hour later I happened to look outside the camper’s rear screen door and saw a couple of male deer up on a slight rise, maybe 20 yards away.  Based on the number of points on their antlers, I’m guessing they were relatively young.  The closest one heard me and took off but the other deer stood his ground.  Very slowly I opened the screen door and by his reaction I’m sure he heard that.  He looked beyond my camper as if to look for the source of the sound, but didn’t see or smell me.  He moved off slowly and those few seconds were all I needed to take pictures. 

Back on I-70 W for about 10 miles, I then got on Rt. 13 N.  This highway is not a designated Colorado scenic byway and I think it should be!  The transformation in the scenery was just incredible.  Still driving within the vicinity of the very mountainous Glenwood Springs, the surrounding mountains in front of me had heavy cloud cover at the top.  Climbing just one more mountain, on Rt. 13, I reached an elevation thick with fog.  That dissipated quickly on the descent and, almost instantly, the terrain morphed into a more arid landscape.  The countryside was still very green and there were rivers and streams, but the land was flatter and the mountains and hills were rocky and rugged.  Clues were everywhere, in the landscape and in the increased number of horses in the fields, that Wyoming was just about an hour’s drive further north.

By 12:00 noon I arrived at the Craig Campground, in Craig, and got a nice shaded site.  First things first, I dumped the tanks and did a quickie clean-up inside the camper.  I’ve got my internet and CNN is on TV.  There’s a pool here, too.  Maybe if I go in up to my neck only…??

When I travel in the camper, I often become philosophical.  My “camper adventures” are not just for fun.  These trips are my opportunity to learn, to renew my appreciation for nature, and to take stock of self.  In the presence of nature all around me, I’m truly insignificant.  Despite the brain power of myself and my fellow humans, we don’t hold a candle to the forces of nature.  Because we have the capability to think, we can also plan, decide, reason, dream, and scheme, and the results are we either succeed or we screw up.  We are imperfect.

Nature, on the other hand, in my view, is perfect.  The Black Canyon gorge, the Nebraska Sandhills, a storm, a wildflower, a cottonwood tree, an untamed waterfall – these are perfect.  Even the mosquito, designed to do exactly as nature intended it to do, is perfect.  How can you argue this?  The mosquito, abhorrent as it is, doesn’t have a flaw.  It does what it’s supposed to do with nary a thought or a plan, unlike the flawed human who has the extraordinary capability to think, to decide, to make choices, and to find solutions.  Unfortunately, the human also destroys. 

For me personally, it’s important that I keep this in perspective.  The ability to think comes with responsibility – it’s not a gift without strings attached.  I’ll still curse the bugs that bite me and the gnats that go up my nose.  The rancher will still curse the wolf that kills his sheep.  The farmer will still curse the hail that destroys his crops.  But, we have the capability to also respect, preserve, and protect.  We will do well to take that to heart.  

Some photos of nature as seen by MAP --                       

A wildflower, alive, colorful, and beautiful...

 

...a tree, dead, stark, and still beautiful.



The morning sun on misty-topped mountains.

 

I took this picture of the sunflower, not even noticing the V-formation of birds flying above.  What a delight to discover that when I looked at the photo later.  This is a close-up of the sunflower, the mist above the mountains, and the birds (probably geese). 



A close-up of the deer that I quietly observed from my camper.  



ANIMALS -- CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THEM!

Monday August 1^st would have been my Dad’s 94^th birthday.  He was 87 when he passed away.  I’ve tried but my mental image of Dad is frozen at 87 and I can’t quite picture what he would look like (or be like!) at 94.  He died before I started traveling around in the camper and I sometimes wonder what he (and Mom) would think of my adventures and mishaps and all. 

Leaving Sidney, Nebraska on Monday I took I-80 W and then Rt. 19 S into Colorado and then continued on Routes 113 S – 138 W – 14 W – I-25 N to the Fort Collins North/Wellington KOA.  I’d had some problems with the internet connection at the RV Park in Sidney and was happy and relieved to be able to post my fifth blog and check my emails while here at the KOA.  I remained here on Tuesday the 2^nd to continue other online work (pay the bills!) and do my camper chores (dump the tanks!).  There’s just one problem with this KOA -- they’ve got a million flies!  Whoever invented the fly swatter, thank you!

If most folks are like me, we probably have the same image of Colorado – mountains, snow, skiing, white water rafting.  Names of towns such as Telluride, Durango, Silverton, Vail, Colorado Springs may be familiar to a lot of us.  Anybody heard of Burlington?  Las Animas?  Trinidad?  How about Sterling or La Junta?  Me neither.  The eastern half of Colorado – the region to the east of the Rockies – may not be as thrilling or as breathtaking or as famous as the western half.  We’ll see!

As I write this, it’s Wednesday, August 3^rd.  I accomplished everything I needed to do at the KOA the past two days and I’m all set to resume my trip and take a look around eastern Colorado.  After getting gas and groceries,  I got on I-25 S for about 45 miles and then got on a series of connecting roads (Routes 52 E – 79 S – I-70 E – 36 E – 59 S) through flat, wide-open farmland to the Shady Grove Wi-Fi Campground in Seibert, CO.  I’ve never seen a campground include “Wi-Fi” in its name, but if the intent was to catch RVers’ eyes, it sure worked! 

Seibert is just a small farm community but a good place to stop for the night.  I was taken aback a little bit by the middle-aged fella who handled my registration, mostly because of the way he was attired…or not attired.  He was wearing very loose workout shorts, flip-flops, and no shirt.  So, while I’m conducting a business transaction I’m also looking at a pot belly, some stray chest hair, and a pair of areola.  The guy’s unshaven face, however, radiated a nice smile and when I continued to have trouble lip-reading him, he was perfectly happy to use paper and pen.  He was also wearing a cast on his left arm and a brace strapped to his chest.  Just as we were finishing up, he wrote on the paper -- “I fell.”  I said “Ohhhhh…” and asked if he was doing alright.  He said yes and then wrote that he fell from a tree, broke his wrist and several vertebrae.  Thinking about the rocky climb I almost did at Toadstool Geologic Park last week, I told him we have to be careful, especially at our age, and he gave me a big smile at that!  

When I submitted my online request for materials last spring to the Colorado Bureau of Tourism, they sent me just one “Colorado” booklet.  That’s hardly enough so I decided I should go to one of the state’s Welcome Centers and get more statewide and local brochures, maps, state park information, etc.  The closest Welcome Center to Seibert is in Burlington, just west of the border with Kansas and off of I-70.  So, on Thursday morning, August 4^th I got right on I-70 E and headed for Burlington.    

After about 20 minutes of gathering a lot of material from the Welcome Center, I dumped everything in the truck and then walked over to the nearby Old Town Museum.  This museum is a “…recreated turn-of-the-century prairie town that features 21 fully restored, historical buildings, housed with authentic artifacts.”  I enjoyed going in all the different buildings and looking at all the old stuff, but after I’d visited my 5^th or 6^th building, I noticed that I was the only person walking around the town.  I started to feel like I was in that old “Twilight Zone” episode – the one with the man (or was it a woman?) running all over this deserted town looking for somebody, anybody.  It was weird, I thought, that there wasn’t at least a family of kids or something.  

From there I drove across town to the Kit Carson County Fairgrounds – to ride a horse.  The fair was last week, I think, but the fairgrounds is the home of a National Historic Landmark – the Kit Carson County Carousel.  Oh, my…I remember carousels from my childhood and this one just took my breath away.  Manufactured in 1905 by the Philadelphia Toboggan Company, all 45 wooden animals still “march” to the original music of a Wurlitzer Monster Military Band Organ.  The beautifully carved animals have been restored to their original colorful splendor and the panels of paintings all around the carousel have been restored as well.  The lady operating the carousel (she could sign a little bit!) told me that the restoration took about 25 years.  For 25 cents there are all sorts of animals to ride: Armored Horse, Dog, Donkey, Giraffes, Indian Pony, Tiger, Angel Pony, Zebras, Button Horse, Hippocampus, Rose Horse, Camels, Black and White Horse, Goats, Tassel Horse, Lion, and Deer.  I picked a horse, got on with no problem, and had to marvel at the fact I was sitting on a piece of antique that was made over a century ago!  And this treasure is in Burlington, eastern Colorado!

Restored to their 1905 splendor!  Kit Carson County Carousel, Burlington, CO.

 

More restored animals and paintings around the Kit Carson County Carousel.

 

The carousel's Wurlitzer Monster Military Band Organ.



Taking Rt. 385 N for about 25 miles, I got on a dirt road and headed for the Bonny Lake State Park.  The area around the state park is also a wildlife area and as I was slowly driving along, two white-tail deer suddenly ran across the road, bouncing away at high speed as if they were running from something.   The beauty of their quick and graceful dash mesmerized me until they’d run out of view.  Looking towards where they had come from I didn’t see anything else.  Maybe it was my truck.  The diesel engine is loud, hearing people tell me.  If I want to catch sight of wildlife I will have to park somewhere with the engine off and use the truck as a blind.  I oughta do that one day.

Bonny Lake has dried out quite a bit and while people can still fish and go boating, there’s no swimming allowed due to mud.  I spent the late afternoon/early evening outside reading and reviewing my stash of materials.  I was also enjoying the breeze for a little while before it occurred to me to look up and around me.  Oh, dark clouds…and not a minute after I went back inside the camper, it started to rain!  We had quite the downpour, and lightning, that lasted for a few hours.

It was a beautiful morning when I woke up [on Friday, August 5^th] and I decided to get an early start and leave my site at 7:30 a.m. rather than my usual 9:00 a.m.  Who knows, I might see something on this dirt road back to Rt. 385.  Sighting #1: A big, black bull -- no horns (polled) but he sported a hefty sack of testicles -- grazing right next to a sign on the road that said “Cattle Xing – Next 2 Miles.”  Sighting #2: About five turkeys, or some such bird, scrambling across the road. 

Not quite wildlife, but one doesn't often see a bull just feet away from one's vehicle!  Dirt road outside Bonny Lake State Park, near Burlington, CO.

Returning to Burlington I continued on Rt. 385 going south on a two-lane road through more of the same flat farmland.  There were corn and other crop fields, there was a field of sunflowers, and there were other fields that were brown and barren.  There were birds and bugs and there was a bird of prey on a wooden fence post, staring intently at something. 

And then for a fleeting moment I saw an animal in the field, running in the opposite direction.  I wasn’t able to make out what it was but it certainly wasn’t deer or livestock.  As I wondered about it, I spotted several other animals in the field, running in the same direction I was going.  This time I stopped on the shoulder, stepped outside the truck, and looked through my binoculars.  They were dogs – a mid-size adult and three pups.  They were running, those pups were really going at it.  I looked to the left and there was a farmhouse.  Okay, so these dogs are running home.  Looking through the binocs again, the adult dog, obviously the mother of the pups, had stopped running.  She was looking at me!  The pups continued to run to the farm, she looked at them as if to check their progress, and then she came trotting over to me.  She was still far enough away I wasn’t concerned, but her face through the binocs was a study of inquisitiveness.  “Who the hell is this two-legged animal on my property?” was what her whole demeanor seemed to convey.  I got back in my truck and kept still.  We continued to look at each other, she looked again towards the running pups, took one more look at me, turned and took off towards the farm.  Just a day in the life of farm dogs, I thought.  And then I started to wonder – had they been chasing off that animal I first saw?  Lessons from Mom?  It’s possible.



A very flat Colorado landscape, green crops on one side, a barren field on the other.  Somewhere along Route 385.



At the town of Lamar, I turned west on Rt. 50 (the “Santa Fe Trail Scenic Byway”), got on another county road and arrived at the John Martin Reservoir State Park, near Hasty.  There’s a dam here and the Lake Hasty Campground is located below the dam.  I picked a site, one of eight that overlooks the lake, and was just about to get the camper all hooked up and prepped for the night when I remembered that I had better check the site post first.  Good thing I did because it was reserved for 8/5 – today!  I walked to the next site over, and the next two, and they were all reserved.  The fourth site is reserved for tomorrow so I moved the camper to that one.  On my walk to check these sites I spotted a 12-inch piece of snake skin, sloughed by, I’m guessing rattlesnake.  Whatever reptile it came from, it serves as a reminder I gotta watch where I step.    

I enjoyed my spot at Lake Hasty but I wanted to see the reservoir, too, on the other side of the dam.  Setting out the next morning [Saturday, August 6th] I drove across the dam, turned back around and parked at a parking spot.  The vantage point up there provided great views of the reservoir and the lake from both sides of the dam.  There were a couple of boats on the reservoir and people were fishing along the shoreline.  Sections of the sand and gravel shoreline are fenced off to protect two species of birds, both of which are currently nesting on the reservoir -- the threatened Piping Plover and the endangered Interior Least Tern.  Protected under the federal Endangered Species Act, there were warning signs everywhere. 

The state park has another campground called Point Lookout.  Although no hookups are available at this campground, I thought of staying here last night because the views from this location are described as being excellent.  It became a moot point, however, when I found out from the Visitor’s Center yesterday that this campground was closed due to budget cuts.  Wanting to see the area anyway, I drove over there from the dam.  The paved road became dirt and a sign pointed towards a wildlife area.  So, not only did I miss out on some fantastic views of the reservoir, I also missed out on the possibility of seeing some wildlife, especially at dusk and at sunrise. 

After walking around the edge of the rocky bluffs for a little while – and spotting a heron in the meantime – I then drove over to check out a marker for the Santa Fe Trail.  At the time the wagon trains came through on this trail, the settlers were walking along the Arkansas River.  The concrete and earthen dam, which was built [and completed in 1948, after WWII] to protect the Arkansas River Valley from potential flooding, has certainly changed the topography of the landscape from that time.

View of Lake Hasty from my blue chair outside my camper, cocktail in one hand and a book in the other.  John Martin Reservoir State Park, near Hasty.



The John Martin Reservoir, as seen from one side of the dam.

 

The view from the other side of the dam.  The water in the foreground is the spillway.  Lake Hasty and the campground are in the background.

 

John Martin Reservoir, as seen from Point Lookout.


 Thinking I’d stop for the night in Trinidad, a town near the border with New Mexico, I changed my mind after visiting Bent’s Old Fort National Historic Site, located near La Junta.  From Rt. 50 W I got on Rt. 194 W for about 15 miles and there it was.  Rather than take the short concrete path to the fort, I took the long way – a loop trail.  It was a hot day and I’m really glad I heeded the suggestion to bring water.  Looping around prairie grass, part of the trail also followed the banks of the Arkansas River.  I learned from this visit that the Arkansas River was the border between the United States and Mexico and this is one of the reasons the Bent Brothers built their fort here. 

The fort today is an exact reconstruction of the original fort.  Built in 1833 by Charles and William Bent and Ceran St. Vrain, the fort was a significant fur trade post on the Santa Fe Trail.  With limited timber in the area, the fort was built with a brick mixture of clay, water, and sand, bound by straw or wool, and covered by adobe plaster.  The workers who built the fort came from across the river – Mexico – and many remained to do other work within the fort.    

The fort was a cultural center of sorts.  The weary travelers on the trail found the fort an oasis where they could rest, eat a meal around a real table, and repair their wagons.  Trappers, hunters, and Indians came here to trade their furs for goods such as tobacco, cloth, blankets, tool, dried foods, and gunpowder.  Trading thrived here and the fort was often crowded with people speaking as many as seven different languages.  In due time, as history as taught us, the buffalo became nearly extinct, the Indians were forced to live on reservations, and other incidents and conflicts led to the fort’s decline as a trading center.  Abandoned around 1850, the fort crumbled over the years from lack of upkeep.  Reconstructed in 1975-76, based on detailed drawings and archaeological findings, the fort today is an impressive place to visit.  There were guides walking around in clothing of the time and out in the corral there was an ox, a horse, a mule, and several peacocks.

By the time I left this historical site, it was nearly 3:00 p.m. and I was hot and tired and in no mood to drive the 85 miles to Trinidad.  Walking back to my truck, I thought to myself – if I feel this way, knowing however that there’s a cold bottle of water in my camper, and I can make the convenient decision to not drive any further, even for a couple more hours, imagine what it was like, on a hot day like today, for the long-ago pioneers.

Consulting my RV directory, I was happy to discover that there’s a KOA in La Junta and so I went there.  As soon as I got the camper set up, I made a beeline for the pool.  I didn’t have to think twice about it – I’ll stay here tomorrow (Sunday), too!     



The Arkansas River, along the trail near Bent's Old Fort, Bent's Old Fort National Historical Site, La Junta, CO.