Fresh homefries and eggs were enjoyed sitting at the window of our cabin overlooking the lake as the sun rose over the San Juan Mountains. We may have sat lakeside on the deck had it been about 15 degrees warmer. It’s not always easy going from 110-degree days with 90-degree nights to 55-degree mornings – especially when you are dressed for summer in the desert. We woke late, moved slowly, and when it was time to leave the lake, we drove slowly on the way to Durango. Caroline had to register in the early day at Fort Lewis College so she could get checked in for her class.
Last year, Caroline volunteered to set up the Intermountain Weavers Conference website with online registration and payment for their bi-annual fiber conference. For her efforts, she was gifted a workshop. I’ll tell you which workshop in an upcoming blog post when I can show you what she was doing. Today, though, was simply registration. Vendors of various weaving and fiber art supplies were already set up and selling their goods when we arrived upstairs to see what temptations might exist for Caroline to spend her puny budget. Funny how “puny” never really stays that way but has this mutability where budget becomes bonanza, which is what she ultimately walks away with.
Seeing this would be the only day for my wife to do some sightseeing in the area, after registration and lunch, we headed up the road in the direction of Ouray, Colorado. We didn’t get far: the sign said Ouray was 67 miles away, and we knew that our cabin was 30 miles in the other direction, requiring at least 45 minutes to get there from the college. Having an appointment with our barbecue and a lakeside sunset, our meandering through the mountains would be limited. At one of our stops with a fair amount of wildflowers that were demanding our attention, we spotted this little chipmunk. Our first wildlife encounter.
Make a wish. What was it? Can’t tell, or it won’t come true. Do you believe that? Don’t know, but it must work to some degree, as so many of my wishes keep coming true. I’m here with you today, ain’t I? It’s a familiar story repeated ad infinitum: we get lost in the green, and our eyes get woozy, taking in the deeply saturated colors of the forest. Do people who live in lush areas know the pleasure we feel when we compare the world of the parched to that of the verdant?
And now, our worlds meet: Tan, let me introduce you to Purple and Green. This burst of color appears to be growing in 2 tablespoons of soil. No, I am not feeling nostalgic for what we left behind in Arizona; it was Caroline who asked me to take the photo. As I get older, I slowly learn to be slightly more obliging, and so I stopped, rolled down the window, and took the photo for her. I hope you enjoy “Plant on Rock.”
If you like cascades, you’ll love your drive on Highway 550 north of Durango. Keep a keen eye; they are everywhere. Attention road designers, those of us armed with cameras are a danger to ourselves and others when engineers do not afford us pullouts at convenient locations, i.e., beautiful landscapes. We will stop right in the middle of the road if need be and take pictures – wife yelling at us and all. It has even happened that people encourage me to do so as they drive around me yelling at me to get a good one, combined with hand gestures I interpret as a thumbs-up of “good job, buddy.”
By this time, we no longer need to pull over to take photos; we are only driving 1200 feet an hour; who needs miles per hour when you are in nature? I think it’s almost funny when a Kia is driving slower than a 40-foot motorhome towing a Hummer. If you people behind me are in such a hurry, why are you driving through someplace that is astoundingly beautiful? Did it not occur to you that some people don’t enjoy rubber-necking traffic accidents but can’t help themselves when driving on California’s Pacific Coast Highway, anywhere in Yellowstone, or moving through the mountains, desert, forest, or anywhere else that demands one’s appreciation?
Is this real? Caroline and I have driven this stretch of road many a time, and we have never seen this before. A travertine bump being created by a flow of water out of the top of what looks suspiciously like a pipe? The travertine looks real enough; the water is not all that hot; why haven’t we seen this before? It turns out that it is real. It is called Pinkerton Hot Springs – suppose I’m now a monkey’s uncle.
Los Pinos River is seen from the bridge into Five Branches Campers Park seconds before it enters Vallecito Reservoir. There’s something about these types of wild rivers, even when they are small, that begs me to get out of the car, abandon everything, and follow them upstream. To all you millionaires out there who are in ownership of your very own private stretch of wild river (think Montana / Wyoming area), I’m available for house watching — summers only!
Another barbecue, another lakeside dinner, and one more beautiful sunset. We are working on a theme here on my blog this year; I should change its name from Photo of the Day to My Perfect Day. What more can I say that would let you know how wonderful a day Caroline and I just had?