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Tag Archives: Colorado

A Better Kind of Isolation

19 Tuesday May 2020

Posted by lexklein in Travel - General, United States

≈ 98 Comments

Tags

Cadillac Ranch, Colorado, isolation, New Mexico, open road, road trip, Texas, Texas Panhandle

For the second time in little over a year, I point my car northwest on a 1000-mile journey, and then retrace it, through some of the bleakest land in the country. There and back in 32 hours last year, and there and back again a few weeks ago, this time sweetened in the middle by a most joyous event: the birth of our first grandchild. That the trip follows on the heels of a solid two months sequestered at home makes it all the more liberating, and I savor the trip almost as much as the heart-bursting reason behind it.IMG_0803

Like the previous trip, I do this one alone and almost in silence – no podcasts for me, or playlists, or even the radio most of the way (there really is no radio reception most of the way!). These are the times my thoughts get to meander as far as the land does, without limits or defined edges.IMG_5615

My mind yawns open like the arroyos out the window; the past and future wander into my head while the present plays out amid the rocking horse oil pumps, the wind turbines, the fields of grain and cattle, the ridges and folds and dusty flats that are palpable beneath my wheels. I point my phone camera out the bug-splattered windows over and over again, trying to capture a strange bliss I could never properly explain.

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I savor mile after mile, hour upon hour, of the Texas Panhandle – beige and chalky, then red and earthy, reeking of cows, and beaten by wind. For long stretches I hear what sounds like a thin metal whip flaying the roof of my vehicle. It abates as I slow from 80 mph to pass through tiny, rural towns – a few battered houses, a feed store, a gas station from the ‘50s, a BBQ joint, a Chinese or Mexican restaurant from time to time.

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In a few spots, I might catch a glimpse of a strip joint like the (surely beachy) Player’s Bikini Club, or perhaps a big-ass gun shop, or an ad for a steak the size of New York, none of which feature in my daily life and are therefore endlessly amusing to me.

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In a matter of seconds, I’m through these towns and back on the open road. Many people would find the sere landscape dull or depressing, but I find its scoured featurelessness profoundly pleasurable. It’s a blank backdrop for old camp songs, writing ideas, life-plan reviews, a phone call here and there. I barely need to turn the wheel, and the hours effortlessly slip by.

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I’ve started from barely above sea level, and by the time I hit Amarillo, Texas, I’m at 3000 feet, riding the high plains ever higher, to almost 4000 feet by the time I reach Dalhart, nearly 5000 by the Texas-New Mexico state line. I never feel I’ve left flat ground, though, inching through those feet of ascent ever so slowly.

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Deeper into New Mexico, the gradual rise becomes steeper; by the time I get to Raton Pass and thunder down into Colorado, I am at almost 8000 feet, and both before and after the pass, my views become more three-dimensional and colorful. Late spring growth softens the land, and pine trees begin to replace the drier juniper, cottonwood and mesquite varieties. Distant peaks poke out of the corrugated foreground, some still snow-covered, adding a depth of field that I welcome in spite of my contentment with the monotony.IMG_5725

There are even some less natural sparks of color from time to time. My favorite is Cadillac Ranch, a field of half-buried cars outside of Amarillo, a scene I have wanted to see on the first three passes over this route. On the way home, I finally go out of my way to stop.IMG_0857

The installation is surreal – a garish row of spray-painted Caddies with their tail fins rising out of a sun-bleached cow pasture – and I roam the perimeter as much as I can, avoiding the painters who are encouraged to make their own marks on the “sculpture” of ten cars, originally buried nose-down here in 1974.

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It is an hour before sundown on a scorching evening; the western rays are blinding, and the hot wind out in the field has me parched within minutes. Still, I walk slowly back to the car, prolonging what will be my last night in the vast emptiness.IMG_0855

As I drive closer to low ground, humidity, and the big city, I don’t want the trip to end. I choose an alternate way into Houston, sticking to smaller roads that bisect horse farms and white-fenced meadows. And then I am back to the 13-lane Katy Freeway, the gauntlet I must run to get home. Muscles tensed and brain overloaded for the first time in weeks, I finally snap the radio on. Already buffeted by stimuli, I figure a little more won’t hurt. I’ll stay in overdrive in my lush green surroundings for the next month, and then … I’ll make the same soothing trip all over again!

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Jubilation in the Mountains

23 Monday May 2016

Posted by lexklein in United States

≈ 67 Comments

Tags

Aspen, aspen trees, Colorado, hiking, jubilant, Maroon Bells, White River National Forest

Is there anything more restorative than a walk in the woods? This past week I was able to hike for a few days in the area around Aspen, Colorado, and I lapped up every minute of it.

From loading my backpack for the day (does anyone else find this an oddly satisfying task?) to spending hours at a time with no other human in sight, I allow time to fade from my consciousness. I’m in a zone I can only find on a woodsy trail, and a Rocky Mountain high is a real thing (even without legal-in-Colorado help). I hike by myself the first two days and feel the deep joy of being out in nature, alone with my thoughts and the sights and smells of the mountains.

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The aspen trees sport feathery leaves at an elevation of 8000’ but at 10,000’ they are still naked soldiers lined up in ranks up and down the sides of the mountains. (The aspens intrigued me; please indulge me this gallery of trees!)

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Some paths are still blocked with snow, while others are beginning to grow a spring carpet of colorful mosses and tiny wildflowers.

DSC_0494The trails are wonderfully diverse; I start on a shaded path alongside a stream, emerge into some prairie-like flats, then climb on exposed red rock one morning.

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A hike at a higher elevation begins at lake’s edge, climbs gently through dense aspen thickets, then rises steeply over rough root systems and rocks until I am forced to stop when the route is fully snowed over.

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My obsession for the four days I am there is to get a great shot of the Maroon Bells, (supposedly) the most photographed mountains in North America. I go after breakfast one day, but the three-peaked mass is partially shrouded in cloud cover. They are visible – and impressive – but the color palate is drab and cold, with water, trees, stone, and sky all a similar dark gray-blue-green. I am not completely disappointed (and get in a fantastic hike on the almost-empty Crater Lake Trail), but I do have that familiar feeling of seeing my target mountain in less-than-perfect conditions.

DSC_0568I return that afternoon to find even thicker clouds, but the peaks and the swoop are in slightly sharper relief. I snap away, hoping the wind will die down enough to allow the iconic reflection of the massif in the lake. It is not meant to be, and I leave the White River National Forest feeling better about the clarity of my new photos but still not very satisfied.

Version 2Unlike my usual self, I decide I simply must have a better photo and set my alarm for 4:15 am to try to catch the sun rising on the face of the Bells. The next morning, four of us bundle up and head to the lake once more. Hopeful and shivering cold, we walk the shore of the lake, pacing up and down the beginnings of several trails, then set up with a few other hardy souls for the spectacle to come. The sky is clear and slowly turning orange behind us and pinkish blue in front.

IMG_3237Ten minutes after official sunrise, the crests ignite! We are all clicking away as the rosy light gradually lights up the whole face. Suddenly … jubilation! The lake grows still and flat, and the fire on the mountain is mirrored in the water. It is this amateur photographer’s dream come true, and I snap away with both Nikon and iPhone until my batteries fail. (I did say amateur.)

Version 2If you search for images of the Maroon Bells, you will find photos that blow your mind. Mine are no match for those, but I am happy with them, and happier still that I made the effort to capture to the best of my ability a place I may never get to see again. I was indeed jubilant as the rising sun hit those peaks, but the whole time I spent in the mountains was a source of deep joy that will sustain me until I can escape the flatlands again!

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Careful in Colorado

27 Tuesday Oct 2015

Posted by lexklein in United States

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

altitude sickness, careful, Colorado, Fourth of July Trail, Indian Peaks Wilderness, Nederland

While visiting Colorado this past weekend, we decided to take a moderately challenging day hike in the Indian Peaks Wilderness area outside the quirky little town of Nederland. Leaving Denver on a clear morning with a mid-60s temperature forecast in the city, we were psyched for a crisp but sunshine-filled day in the mountains.

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The plan was to start at the Fourth of July trailhead, a name that further conjured up a pleasant, sunny stroll on green slopes. For whatever reason, the word “Alpine” that had been used to describe the terrain did not fully register (with me, at least), and the balmy fall weather we had been enjoying in Chicago and Denver this year gave us a false sense of what to expect at an elevation of 10-11,000 feet in the Rockies in late October.

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The drive to the trailhead quickly disabused us of any notions of a temperate trek. Sitting up reassuringly high in A’s 4WD pickup truck, we still bounced and skidded the last 25 minutes into the trailhead parking lot on an occasionally slick and consistently rutted dirt road. I was grateful for A’s careful driving as I sat in the back biting my nails and skittishly recoiling from my window view any time we approached the edge of the narrow road and the drop-offs below.

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The trailhead, at 10,120’, had a few inches of snow and the air was a chilly 35 degrees, but the sky was a brilliant blue as we started the uphill climb through a series of switchbacks. As we ascended, though, the snow got deeper and deeper, and my choice of ankle-high socks and hiking shoes began to look a bit misguided as the snow rose to mid-calf with every step. Again, careful attention was necessary as we stubbed our toes and tripped on hidden logs, crossed the icy remnants of summer waterfalls, and traversed exposed areas with no branches or rocks to grab in case of a slip.

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After a little over a mile the trail split, with the Arapaho Pass Trail going off to the right and the Diamond Lake Trail turning left. Here at 10,752′, we chose to go south to the lake because the slight headache J had noticed as the hike started was getting steadily worse, and the lake path was leveling out while the Arapaho Peak trail was continuing to ascend sharply. Alas, at about the two-mile mark, we had to make the most careful (and smart) move of the day; J’s headache was now surprisingly and frighteningly bad and accompanied by some nausea, so we needed to reduce elevation quickly. Flying in from the flatlands of Illinois the night before, spending a quick evening in mile-high Denver, then attempting to trek high and fast to nearly 11,000’ the next morning proved to be a little aggressive!

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This was our first time hiking in the Indian Peaks Wilderness area, and it was a gorgeous introduction. In the summer, the waterfalls and wildflowers are apparently stunning, and there are a number of trails and campsites that branch off from various trailheads. The Fourth of July Road does not open until late May or even June due to snow cover, and it closes by mid-November, just a few weeks away now. At any time of year, the last few miles of the access road would be difficult for a passenger car, no matter the weather conditions, and any hike at this elevation requires care and preparation. Perhaps we weren’t quite careful enough in our planning this time, but we can’t wait to go back!

This post was prompted by the Weekly Photo Challenge: Careful. See other entries by clicking on the link.

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Friday Photos: Return to Red Rocks

12 Friday Dec 2014

Posted by lexklein in Travel - General, United States

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Alabama, Colorado, concerts, music, Red Rocks Amphitheatre

Red Rocks Amphitheatre is in Morrison, Colorado, about 15 miles west of Denver. I had visited the park several times over the years, but this past summer I finally got to attend a concert there. It doesn’t even matter who the band was; the ambience alone is worth the ticket price.

Red Rocks 1

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P.S. It was Alabama. Remember them?

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I’m a restless, world-wandering, language-loving, book-devouring traveler trying to straddle the threshold between a traditional, stable family life and a free-spirited, irresistible urge to roam. I’m sure I won’t have a travel story every time I add to this blog, but I’ve got a lot! I’m a pretty happy camper (literally), but there is some angst as well as excitement in always having one foot out the door. Come along for the trip as I take the second step …

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Colorado, Fall 2020

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