Jaci Dawn

We meandered along the old highway instead of taking I-70 west. The plan was to go as far as Vail and head south, but we ended up heading south much earlier.

Leaving Grand Junction

This was the first of many such gas stations. I find it wrong on so many levels, but that’s just me.

Puts a new twist to growing up in dirt. Elevation 5432 (feet). No idea what the population is.

The park in New Castle. I’m not sure if dogs are allowed or not, but whatever you do, keep them on a leash and clean up after them. Another Sign Fail. New Castle looked like a nice town, too, and certainly more deserving of exploration than we gave it.

It was in Glenwood Springs that we got sidetracked on State Route 82 and found ourselves headed south toward Aspen instead of east to Vail. That was quite all right: Aspen is nestled in a high scenic valley and State Route 82 turns into A Forest Service road on the eastern edge of town. Narrow, sometimes single-lane, and no guard rails, but certainly not a scary road to be on (unless it were to snow. I don’t think I’d want to be on an unmaintained highway when it snows). Besides, as we traveled through the aspen and pine forest, it slowly dawned on me that maybe i was wrong to have focused so much energy on hunting jackalope. Because we were definitely in Bigfoot country now.

We stopped to look at old mining ruins. The mountains jutted up all around us and the air was thin. Beaver worked the streams. You can see we were just below timberline here (about 11,500 feet).

The last steep push to Independence Pass, looking back west.

12,095 feet (3686 meters). Every direction you turn, you are surrounded by snow-capped mountains jutting into the timberline. I love mountains.

The road off the pass got with the program: down-down-down. It was a pleasant enough drive, not too rugged, and a lot of old mining sites dotting the hillside. I kept my eyes peeled for Bigfoot, but saw no trace of him.

Then we were finally off the mountain in in the long north-south vale below, headed to Buena Vista. A large LED highway sign warned us that we were coming into Important Deer Crossing. And guess what? We saw the Important Deer. Lots of them. All grazing in the alfalfa fields around Buena Vista, contentedly chuckling at all the deer hunters scouring the high country for big bucks.

Darkness descended before we completed the passage across the last plateau between Buena Vista and Colorado Springs. We saw a small wolf lope across the highway and a fat porcupine waddle along a bar pit; several bored-looking antelope resting beside lonely fence posts, and not a few bored bovines.

The fog was coming in thick and the temps were hovering right around freezing, so all we really wanted to do was get into a motel and settle in for the night before the roads got slippery.

But I couldn’t wait and I had to call my son to tell him we’d arrived. I just had to get my hands on this little guy.

Hi Justin! Grandma’s here! (Doesn’t he look impressed?)