The Great Western Excursion - CO to CA

I am writing so far after this trip that I am now forced to rely on scrawled notes taken during and shortly thereafter, which tell a slightly different story, but an adventure worth recording nonetheless.

Sometime back in late August, we left a gorgeous summer in Maine after the annual Little/Royce family visit and headed West for two weddings tied together by a week of travel. We started out in Denver and had a couple of days to play with before I had to report for bridesmaidsly duties and a college reunion of sorts at the Powderhorn Resort, near Grand Junction, for wedding number one - Meredith and Brett. Leaving the airport, we sang loudly to “Rocky Mountain High” as we sped onwards towards Breckenridge, our first night’s destination. Breckenridge is a charming ski town which Chad remembered from childhood ski trips, but it was my first visit. The town was filled with brightly colored flowers against the crisp blue sky and chilly mountain air. We stayed at a small B&B on the river, which was housed in an old barn and retained some of the rustic details – we stayed in “stall” number 4. After dinner, and a soak in the riverside hot tub, we stumbled our way to bed, feeling the effects of the reduced oxygen at 9,000 feet.

In the morning, we headed to Vail to visit Chad’s cousin and her boyfriend. I was curious to finally see the infamous mountain where my sister had broken her leg in her early post-collegiate days. We had a beautiful walk along the stream through town, though we were struck by the number of dead pine trees along the way, which had recently been devastated by the pine bark beetle. After a few hours’ drive, we descended into a faded, speckled landscape to the Powerderhorn ski resort. We met up with old friends and had a quick rehearsal in the hot afternoon sun before heading to the rehearsal dinner at a house in the nearby hills. The expansive sunset views from there were fantastic, as was the barbeque and the chance to catch up with old friends.

The next day, the girls were busy with wedding preparations, so the boys went off on a Frisbee golf adventure, which took them all through the mountains around the resort. Alice and I managed to get in an early morning hike up the mountain before the events began, and returned to watch marmots playing on the lawn as we breakfasted on the deck. We spent the rest of the day learning to make bouquets (on-the-job training) and teasing Meredith as we tried out various contraptions in her hair. The boys returned just in time to help decorate the hillside for the ceremony. It was a beautiful sight of Mer and all went smoothly, including the incorporation of a few other critters - Bonnie, the dog, as ring-bearer and a pesky chipmunk that was determined to be in our pictures. Afterwards, we feasted, gave and listened to wonderful toasts, and danced up a storm until the wee hours. It was a grand party!

In the morning, we rounded up the crew and headed up to Grand Mesa for a hike amidst the many crystal clear lakes. The contrast with the dusty landscape below was astounding. After a cozy lunch at a lakeside lodge, which looked strangely familiar, we were off to Grand Junction to drop Rob off at the airport. I remembered arriving there 16 years ago for my Outward Bound trip in the San Juan mountains and I also realized that the lodge where we had lunch on the Mesa seemed familiar because I had visited it with my parents after my trip. From there, we headed to Fruita to stay with Mer and Brett for a few days, arriving just in time to accompany them on an evening walk in the McInnis Canyons with their crew of dogs. Along the way, we spotted a brightly colored collared lizard as well as a jack rabbit, much to the dogs’ delight.

We left Mer and Brett early the next morning with Alice to venture to Arches National Park. This was one of the strangest landscapes I’ve encountered – whimsical formations and colors like intense sunsets. Unfortunately, the contrast of colors was somewhat obscured due to recent wildfires, so we missed the stark reds against blues for our photographs. I read a brochure about the park in an attempt to understand the geology of how these arches were formed, coming away with a story that included an ancient ocean, wind, and lots of erosion over a long, long time. This is why I studied biology and not geology. I wondered whether Maine’s lush coastal ‘scape would someday look like this and if humans would be around to see it. We hiked the Devil’s Garden loop, passing by an array of arches along the way - Sand Dune , Broken, Skyline , Pine Tree, Tunnel, Private, Navajo, Partition, Landscape, and Double OArches, cluminating with Dark Angel monument at the end of the loop - and returned to meet up with Heather and Brenden for a picnic lunch. Due to lack of a better place and there being no shade in sight anywhere, we spread out our lunch on the sidewalk, and then walked out to the famous Delicate Arch, where Brenden practiced his echoing skills off the canyon walls. We returned to Fruita for our last night with Mer and Brett before they headed off for their honeymoon birding extravaganza in Australia.

We had not yet visited the Colorado National Monument, which was just about out Mer and Brett’s backyard, so we spent out last morning there exploring there with Alice before she had to fly home. The ridge we chose for our hike supposedly had expansive views all the way out to the San Juans, but we felt more like we were in the Smokey Mountains than in Colorado, due to the bluish haze that covered everything and obscured our views. After many miles of hiking, we emerged back on the park road, where we had the best views of the day. By then, though, we were a little weary of walking, so I tried my hand at hitchhiking and made friends with a very nice couple who drove me back to the visitor’s center to retrieve our car.

We said goodbye to Alice and were off on the next leg, heading across Highway 40 towards Steamboat Springs. We had chosen a scenic set of roads, which neither of us had been on before, and it was absolutely worth the extra time. Both the natural and cultural scenery were fascinating – driving through coal country past rickety old mines and miners’ shacks and new power plants, and then spotting an array of sheep, cows, llama, white-tail deer, elk, magpies, and antelope along the roadside. We noticed, in the small towns we passed through, that the common art form was sculpture - mostly twisted, angular metal pieces, which matched the strength and carved nature of the land in much the same way that watercolor seems to be the perfect medium for the gentle landscape of a place like Door County, Wisconsin, where I visited this summer with my family.

In Steamboat Springs, we stayed at a small inn at the edge of town. In the morning, the owners cooked up a delicious breakfast in their country kitchen and told us about the construction of their inn from lodgepole pines, which had been killed by the bark beetle. They pointed out the blue streaks in the wood, which were the result of a blue fungus that grows in the tiny tubes that the pine beetles bore inside the tree trunks. Apparently, there is a nearby peak called Mount Baldy, which is no longer bald, but must have been denuded by the beetle many years ago when it took its name. Who knows what the forests around here will look like 20 years from now. They also told us about the fantastic hot springs, but we tried not to listen too closely, as we didn’t have enough time to visit them before heading to our next destination, Rocky Mountain National Park, a first for both of us. Along the road, hawks and eagles soared overhead and we passed pelicans floating on Grand Lake, another reminder of an ancient inland sea. Once in the park, we climbed up and up though Aspens turning from green to gold, to reach the Alpine meadow, where bull elk and big horn sheep dotted the rugged slope and lakes lay nestled beneath jagged peaks. A little way down the trail we had chosen for our day’s hike, we smelled smoke and noticed a nearby controlled burn. We thought we’d finally gotten away from the fires, but here we were, in them again. We passed the firemen keeping watch, leaning against a log with their bright orange water packs at their feet, the spicey scents of the fire burning our nostrils. At the top of the trail, we had a lovely view down over a valley with a small winding, silvery stream, and big magpies picturesquely sitting in a dead tree, watching with us. To complete the natural experience, we came upon a mule deer on our way out, who was so unphased by our presence that we questioned whether he was put their by the park service for the tourists .

Next destination - Boulder, Colorado. This is where Chad got his collegiate start and where I had never been. We stayed at the Colorado Chatauqua, which is a kind of community education center that was founded in 1898 as a summer retreat for training Sunday school teachers and which evolved to include other summer educational, cultural, and recreational programs. There were many of these centers around the coutnry, but only a few survive now, including this one. The complext contains a cluster of cabins with a main dining lodge and function hall for gatherings, and it is now open to the public, though some of the cottages are privately owned. We had a fantastic dinner that night on the porch of the restaurant (a memorable burger for me, which is saying a lot), and followed it with a moonlit walk beneath the iconic Flatiron mountains - flashes of light from nearby thunderstorms illuminating their faces.

In the morning, we hiked up the hillside to the amphitheater, a rocky outcropping used by climbers, which was a little steeper than we’d anticipated, given our sore legs from the many miles hiked in the previous days. And, in the afternoon, we toured the UC Boulder campus, walking past Chad’s freshman dorm, and picnicking by the apartment where he lived David one summer. Then, we were off to Denver to return our trusty, now dusty, rental car to the airport and to conclude the Colorado segment of our trip.

Part two – San Francisco, California
We flew into San Francisco over a strange brightly colored quilt of oranges, reds and greens just outside the bay. We later found out that these are salt ponds, which are part of a large estuarine restoration project. That evening, we made our way into the city and enjoyed a delicious dinner at La Mediterrinee, just down the hill from Jan’s house, followed by a stop at a neighborhood favorite, BiRite Creamery, for ice cream.

The next day was a work day for Jan, so we set out on our own to explore the city. We took the trolley to the beach along Judah, past the house where I stayed one summer in college, walked past the edge of Golden Gate Park, where I had interned at the California Academy of Sciences, by the Cliff House, and out to Lands End along the coastal trail. There were beautiful flowers and wild fennel and mulberries along the way. At the precipice at Point Lobos, we found one of the most amazing picnic spots we’ve ever been to - complete with dolphins and sea lions playing, pelicans diving and striking views of the Golden Gate bridge . We actually walked right up to the base of the bridge, where we tried waiting for a bus, but eventually gave up and continued on foot. We kept walking and walking, all in pursuit of a Ghiradelli’s chocolate soda. When we finally arrived, our legs about to give out and our throats parched, it was all worth it. Then, we took a bus all the way back and watched the fog roll in and the sunset colors filter through it after a remarkably clear day. The evening concluded with a great dinner party at Jan’s house.

The next morning, hoping for an equally sunny day, we drove out to Muir Beach with Jan and her boyfriend, Peter. Trail PIC Although we were socked in with fog, the hike was lovely and filled with an array of wildflowers, which Chad, the nature photographer, captured on film. Today, the ending point of our hike, rather than a chocolate soda, was a small English pub on the other side of the beach. We arrived chilled and quite hungry only to find a sign stating that they were closed for an event! But, Peter did some sleuthing and, it turned out, we were just early enough to sneak in before the party for some hot soup and cold beer. Part way back, we made a quick change in a roadside gas station to get spiffed up for the rehearsal dinner for wedding number two – Jake and Kate. A colorful garden, views of nearby Mt. Tamalpais, and copious margaritas accompanied the fiesta-themed gala that evening.

Sunday, we decided, was our day of rest, after serious walking every day of our trip thus far. We packed a picnic, a big blanket, books, and a Frisbee, and headed to Golden Gate Park, where we lazed in the grass in the sunshine for a few hours before cleaning up for the wedding. The festivities were at the Foreign Cinema in the Mission neighborhood – movies were shown on the wall in the outdoor courtyard where we dined on fantastic food and reunited with friends from Overland summers past, where we had met Jake.

That brings us to the last day of this excursion, which we spent in Point Reyes, where I hadn’t been since I was maybe 7 or 8 years old. We hiked out to a cliff above the beachside lagoon and looked down upon sharks and stingrays swimming through the clear water, then followed the path back along a windy crest trail where hawks played above us in the stiff winds and elk ambled in the brush. That night, Jan and Peter introduced us to Burmese food for our last meal together, including a salad made of green tea leaves, beer flavored with ginger and lemon, and a “fresh young coconut” drink served in a whole shell.

And, then, after our epic journey filled with myriad friends and places, we flew all night back to the east coast, through DC, and on up to Portland, Maine. We arrived back at 5 Sheridan bleary eyed to the disarray of our half-moved house, trying to process all that we had experienced before moving on to moving to our new house in Brunswick. Now, over a month after returning, I have finally managed to get it all down. I often wish I could hit the pause button and just stop to absorb the wonderful nuggets of trips like these, but then again, the point of recording things is to reread and recreate pieces of the experience over and over, sapping a little more nutrition from them each time. And, more importantly, to share the experiences with other people, as they never seem complete without including the thoughts and insights that come from friends and family. On that note, we are officially moved in, finally purchased a guest bed and are open for visitors. So, we hope to see you soon.