Disclaimer: This blog entry wasn’t written until 17 years after the trip. It should be noted that it was a huge mistake to have not written it way back when. Sometimes, after writing so much about other days, it happens that at the time directly after the trip (or even during), I convince myself that the details are not that important. Years later, these details are that important, and pulling them out of foggy memories is difficult. The photos help and often leave clues, and then Caroline’s memories are usually far clearer than mine. With that said, here goes.
My mother-in-law might be old, but she’s not that old, meaning that this is her first steam engine train ride, and she had to come all the way to America for the experience. Like so many people, as they grow older, Jutta finds herself to be cold while the rest of us are comfortable. Knowing this, we bought her a new sweater while we were in Yellowstone so she could give up my old Jackson Hole sweater she’s been monopolizing. The first big sweater she acquired in the United States also came from a National Park, Zion, and it was a nice deep green.
We are on the Durango-to-Silverton Narrow Gauge Steam Train en route north from Durango to, you can guess it, Silverton. The trip is three and a half hours long each way, with a two-hour stopover for lunch. We could have opted for a speedier coach ride back, but we love the experience out here. The cost of the roundtrip is $62 per adult and $31 per child. (As I add to this entry in 2022, yep, this paragraph above was part of the original post; the price of the open gondola car is now $115 per adult)
It’s called a gondola, but I can’t help but think of it as the cattle car with shade. Why are we all the way back here instead of up in first class? We are cheap, but that’s not the only reason; I like the idea of being able to jump back and forth from side to side for photos without asking someone to use their window. Then there’s also the benefit of feeling the mountain air and being bathed in the soot from the burning coal.
This is a perfect example of what I just explained as I’m obviously now on the left side of the train admiring the view from the opposite side…as if by magic.
There’s a lot to see out here, and while the train moves along at a relatively slow pace, you must be ready at all times if you want to capture some of the best sights.
We were just on the road that passed all of this yesterday, and yet the world looks distinctly different from this perspective.
Pulling into Silverton.
It was getting late when we pulled in yesterday for dinner at the Black Bear Cafe, and as we still needed to check into our room, we wasted no time and ate before jumping back in the car to continue south. Today, we have two full hours here.
Lunch was at the Handlebars Saloon, which comes with plenty of Western flair for a sweet German lady who I think still pinches herself that she’s doing any of this.
See that blown-out cloud? I was still shooting jpegs instead of RAW due to storage demands and processing requirements. We were traveling so much, and often, when my mother-in-law was here, we’d select a bunch of photos before she returned to Germany, get them printed, and pack them up with her for the flight home. Shooting RAW wouldn’t have allowed this convenience, and also, of note, the software for processing RAW, along with the slow CPU, crap operating system, and expensive hard drives, all conspired to dissuade me from opting for the better quality. Now, all these years later, you can be sure I regret it.
Leaving the small mining town of Silverton behind.
It seems there was a high level of confidence that this river corridor wasn’t prone to flooding; otherwise, whose idea was it to put this narrow train track right here?
You might think sitting at the far back of the train is disadvantageous. Obviously, it’s not – while I may not see where we are going, I have the best view of where we’ve been.
I don’t believe I was aware of it at the time, but we could have taken the train to Silverton and rafted the Animas River back to Durango, not that I would have been all that comfortable with my mother-in-law putting her back into paddling whitewater. Heck, I don’t know if I had the guts at that time.
Almost back to town, where we’ll collect the car and start our drive west.
Also, in the area in Mesa Verde National Park, which we didn’t have time to visit this time, and maybe as interesting is the lesser-known Ute Mountain Tribal Park that we are passing.
Sunset over the Old West can only mean one thing.
That means that dinner must be under the stars and include a good portion of cowboy beans. The Mexican Hat Lodge serves up just that, along with the world-famous swinging steak. Mexican Hat is located between Valley of the Gods and Monument Valley; a better place to stay and eat cannot be found.