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Episode VII
GUNNISON:
It was so natural, so quiet, just a babbling brook
to lull you to sleep. The camp was so clean even
the pit toilet squeaked. Arlene couldn’t get
enough of her new recreation. Here, she casts
and watches the fly drift down along the rocks.
Another pathway is from Black Canyon East
along the Gunnison River passing several
reservoirs along the way. There has been so little
snow melt that the reservoirs are almost drained.
Homes usually along the shore look like
mountain estates high on the hillsides.
From Pueblo in the East we traveled US 50
following the Arkansas River through Salida.
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GUNNISON:
We like Gunnison so much that we considered
transplanting ourselves. Really, can you imagine
us in the West.
We’ve done so much traveling that it’s easy to
determine if we’ll like a place in a short while.
There’s a few things that usually standout. The
people, it’s economy and it’s activities.
So we ask what are the people like? Are they
friendly? Do they come from the area or are they
from everywhere? What’s the economy like? Are
they prosperous? Industrial, agricultural, or
tourist based. Usually, it’s easy to tell by looking
at the age of the vehicles. What kind of people
live there? Are they locals or traveling people
from all over, the country and world.
We prefer travelers. Are there sound institutions
like health and education facilities? Many towns
have three types of business, retailing, local
industry like agriculture, and government. The
latter is often the one carrying the economy,
through health, education and services. Without
them life in towns is usually seasonal.
Does it have a variety of activities for the brain
and the body? Most of the places we go are
remote and offer physical recreation, but seldom
have live theaters, concerts, art’s or educational
classes. The latter is for our life style of learning
forever.
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GUNNISON:
Gunnison seems to have it all. It lies in a valley
north of the San Juan Mountains, and is
surrounded by the Gunnison National Forest. It
is noted for the smallest Wal Mart in the nation.
A vigorous 3 season tourist attraction, for
hunting, and fishing, with both Summer and
Winter sports. A medical center, and hospital
attached to a community college, and a fine
public library.
And of course something that’s dear to our
hearts, a lively senior citizen population. Whose
residents come from all over the country.
It does however have a few drawbacks. To the
West it’s 75 miles from Grand Junction, and 100
miles from Pueblo in the East . Getting in and
out of town gets harder for us as the years go by.
Another is also caused by our aging. Gunnison is
the coldest place in the State.
Our comfort zone, for temperature gets
narrower each year. Some time ago we were okay
with temps from 62 degrees to 88. Today it’s
more like 68 to 78. Cold or extremely hot
weather usually tests us in every way. We can’t
stand either.
People were very friendly. During our first visit
we met a man in the local Wal-Mart from
Shreveport, Louisiana. He was a fisherman. We
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GUNNISON:
didn’t have any fishing gear with us so he advised
us about a pole, line and flies.
I couldn’t make it too clear to him that we didn’t
need to buy flies at the expensive Almont Fly and
Fishing Store. We liked the idea of fishing, but
we didn’t want to catch anything. Whipping a fly
off as we cast, or getting caught in the brush was
as good as it gets.
He advised us to buy a 3M rod, and several
‘Nymphs’ flies. We picked out a couple of flies
ourselves. They were much more colorful, one
looked like a bumble bee, with yellow and black
stripes. We were now ready to fish.
This fellow ‘Mike’ also recommended a
campground several miles outside of Gunnison.
It was the only one around with electricity. We
took down his directions and headed that way.
One Mile:
‘One Mile’ camp is in the narrow Taylor River
Valley, and is managed by the Forest Service. It
has 25 sites, with electricity. The campground is
a single lane with camp sites on either side.
Beyond the sites the hillside climbs steeply. On
the other side is the seldom used road. We
choose number 13, and have returned to it again
and again. It’s a drive through on a slight hill.
Here we are in 2007.
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GUNNISON:
There’s drinking water right beside us, and
‘vaulted toilets’ just down the road. Those being
the finest of the pits. The Taylor river was 200
yards from us and we could hear it running over
the rocks. On the far side of us was a wooden
crafted fence that separated us from the
mountain side. Every fall they have a cattle drive
along the other side of the fence. All in all this
was a very pleasant place. We rated the
campground as a 3. Electricity being the key.
We did a little work setting up camp, but were
tired, hit the sack early, and slept late.
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GUNNISON:
We started the morning off with a hearty
breakfast, paid some bills and reviewed our
investments. All finished we locked up and
headed for town and more chores. We lock up
even though in all our years we’ve never been
broken into or had anything stolen. Except once
in the California desert, a bucket we used for a
place holder was stolen. A green bucket, and we
hope the family that took it catches something
from it because of how we used it.
Lunch:
The drive into Gunnison is lovely, through the
valley along the Taylor River to Almont; a four
building intersection, and the merging with the
Almont River. With the valley behind us we
traveled the last 10 miles along rolling hills and
open farm land.
It’s time to do our laundry, make telephone calls
to our children and friends, buy gas, visit the
library to use the internet, and walk around town.
Those all being completed by noon we had built
up an appetite for lunch. We picked Ferrels. A
sandwich shop off the main street. It was
crowded, but we squeezed in.
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GUNNISON:
They bake their own pies, breads, and muffins. I
chose first, a Bratwurst, with sauerkraut. Arlene,
has so much better taste thought she’d have a
’Veggie’ then changed her mind to a Brie Melt
with avocado, tomatoes, bean sprouts on a
freshly baked role. The line was long enough for
me to change my mind also. Arlene often tells
me I don’t choose good things to eat when
dining out. Of course she’s right. I changed my
mind and ordered a Brie Melt also. We both had
fresh squeezed lemonade to drink.
It was a bit to much. The sandwiches came with
potato salad. We found a small table and joined
two others. We also had desert. The desert of
the day was Creme Carmel. Never-the-Less we
had a slice of Cherry-berry and Peach pie. On
the way out we bought a couple of Orange-
cranberry muffins.
Okay, we really over did it. But, doesn’t this
town sound good to you? Brie Melt, and Crème
Carmel. Wow!
As we walked off the doldrums we came across a
disc golf course, and among several stores an
sport outfitter. We’d return to play disc golf, and
to browse the fishing gear. And for sure another
lunch at Ferrels.
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GUNNISON:
Fishing the Taylor:
Today were going fishing. We need to stop and
check out the Almont fishing store. Back in New
Mexico Brian had used a splash of silicon to keep
the fly dry, and let it float on the surface. We
bought a little spray of it, and a book about
fishing knots. We’d learn how to tie our leaders
and flies.
This is crazy that we needed a booklet on knots.
We have been tying knots on everything for
years. We never once lost our boats because of
poor knots. Beyond that, my father was a true
‘knots-man’ (In a era of knots-men). He taught
both Joe and me how to tie every kind of knot,
just like any Boy Scout. He could even tie a
Boline knot by tossing the rope into the air and
twisting it. That’s really something and I’ve never
seen anyone else do it; ever!
The Taylor River starts up in the mountains at
the end of our valley. It’s used as drainage to
control the reservoir. It runs rapidly down past
the campground into Almont. The river is used
to a lot for trout fishing, it’s cold and inviting.
Kayakers, and rafters love the rough water and
rapids.
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GUNNISON:
You can see it’s rapids as it passes by our camp.
This was our first fishing expedition on our own.
We drove back toward camp. Our first stop
looked promising, but there were so many bushes
we couldn’t get close to the river. Our next stop
was a pull off, but there were too many
fishermen there already. We didn’t want to
embarrass ourselves so we moved on.
We knew we’d have trouble casting and catching
the fly in the bushes, or on the far side of the
river. Our next two spots looked good from the
road but by the time we got to the river they
didn’t leave us much room along the banks or
with the trees overhead.
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GUNNISON:
By the time we got to ‘One Mile’ it was past
lunch time and we were hungry. We stopped for
lunch.
After lunch we rested.
Just up the road was another campground ‘Rosy
Lane’. It was along side of the river and we could
walk to it.
We found the path. It was pretty rough. Some
spots were also covered with trees, and bushes.
The water looked a little rough also. We kept
moving along until we found a place where the
water had pools and a couple of rocks to stand
on. Only, here came the rowdy kayakers.
These photos show how rough and rugged the
shore and river were.
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GUNNISON:
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GUNNISON:
Today the river, the kayakers, and everything else
scored 1. Zimmerman’s fishing 0. Our fishing
gear never even got wet. We tramped back to
camp resolved to try again.
Crested Butte:
It’s easy to tell the difference between the two
towns. AT&T phone reception works in
Gunnison and Version in Crested Butte. We
don’t seem to ever be in the right spot.
Yesterday we had AT&T today we have Version.
From the time portable phones were available we
have had one. The first was so heavy and bulky
you couldn’t carry it very far. It wouldn’t carry a
charge long and never could we go further than a
mile. Each year there after our reliance on ‘cell’
phones has become less and less. Here in the
Rocky Mountains, or the Sierra Nevada or the
Canadian Rockies, phones don’t ever work. So
the big idea to keep one for security is just that.
An idea.
Crested Butte is a reworked and touristed-up
town. It’ s even prettier than Silverton and much
more lively.
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GUNNISON:
It has a character all it’s own. Every street and
every house, small and quaint, are painted a
different color. There’s green, blue, red, pink,
burgundy, purple, white, and yellow. Outside
every house and shop on main street were these
beautiful bouquets of brilliant flowers.
It’s so small, 12 square blocks that it’s easy to
catch the flavor. We bought a take-out lunch at a
French Restaurant, big price little servings, and
got a gelato at an Italian. We needed some late
evening pick-me-up to take the chill off, so
stopped at the local liquor store. We bought a
small bottle of B&B.
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GUNNISON:
mentioned that all the stores and houses were
very small, possibly at one time 2 bedroom
mining homes. This ‘blue house’ liquor store
was so small, yet was crammed with beer and
wine, climbing to the very top shelves
Filled with small whisky, gin and tequila.
Grabbing our bottle we moved slowly to the
register. The owner, a young man, was cheerful.
He told us he didn’t have much call for whisky,
so he didn’t keep an inventory. His buddy was
an old very attentive yellow lab. Not to us but
generally to any customer. As we paid he lifted
his front paws to the counter and
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GUNNISON:
whined. That was obviously his way of asking
for a treat. With each sale he got a biscuit.
We thought we figured out why this was such a
happy town. Everyone was smiling and friendly.
The town was in a bowl with hills and mountains
on every side.
One side was covered with large modern homes.
Maybe 10 - 15 acres apart. These folks were
from Denver, Dallas, Phoenix or further. They
often flew in for a week or so during the winter
season. We named these folks accordingly,
‘Slopees’.
Down in the village everyone worked around
these ‘Slopees’. Full time residents, owned retail
and restaurants places, others ran garages, service
and construction companies. Seasonal workers
came for the season, skiers, bar tenders, waiters,
all for the joy of being in the great outdoors of
Colorado.
These folks were the heart of the town. They
were the ‘Townees’.
The town carried on every day 7 days a week.
The ‘Townees’ worked with a friendly and
cheerful manner all day. But the shops closed
every night at 6 pm. That’s when everything
changed. The townees left work and headed for
the open bars. They spilled into the street, played
music and danced.
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GUNNISON:
Well we had a great time in Crested Butte, and
returned several times.
Lake Irwin:
Outside of town, into the mountains we came to
Lake Irwin. Arlene stands in the snow near the
sign.
We were lucky the road was dry and plowed.
Otherwise we would have never made it through
the snow. To our surprise the cold changed into
a warm afternoon.
This place is stunningly beautiful, the mountain
tops were covered with snow. Some protected
areas still had a couple of inches. The tall
Lodgepole Pines and the new field grasses were
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GUNNISON:
stood out between the lake and sky. Around the
lake there were 5 houses all hidden in the trees.
The Western University college in Gunnison art
students were on a hill over looking the lake. It
was nice to watch them paint. In fact we took
our French lunch sacks over near them for our
picnic.
It was a relaxing afternoon. After lunch I
thought we’d unload our kayaks and go for a
paddle. We had been trucking them around with
us and the further west we get the less we use
them. This despite the icy cold water was to
beautiful to pass.
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GUNNISON:
Arlene , wasn’t as excited about paddling, but she
helped me unload and get the gear ready.
Launching is always a trick trying to keep from
falling into the water. We often plunk down into
the boat, falling the last few inches. It was a lot
cooler in the water. I had my life preserver over
winter coat. That made it okay, but If something
happened I would have had to get out of the
water fast to avoid hyperthermia. Fortunately,
nothing happened. I paddled from one end to
the other, past each home. Once I started
paddling my body built up enough heat so I was
comfortable.
The boat is 14 feet long. It’s a recreational boat
with a longer cockpit and wider beam. It’s made
by Wilderness, a respected kayak company.
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GUNNISON:
Thanks to Arlene I was able to rush up onto the
shore. She grabbed the bow and steadied it while
I climbed out. Once I got my feet under by butt.
We’re going to have to find another way to lift
the boats up on the car. My brother Joe bought a
hydraulic gadget that he could set his boat on at
waist level and it would do all the lifting from
there.
We may get a hitch-hiker. It’s a lot less expensive
than a hydraulic lift and rolls out over the side of
the van. I’d a keep it from sliding off with a bow
rope from the other side of the van. It’s still a lot
of work, but easier than what we’re doing now.
After the boat is loaded and secured the hitch-
hiker would slide back into place.
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GUNNISON:
We headed back down the dirt road to the
intersection. There we decided not to take the
Kebler Pass road. It climbed over the mountain
and then down into Gunnison, about 50 miles.
Maybe we’ll do it another day.
We headed back toward Crested Butte. The
valley road, single lane, stays high above the
valley floor because during the snow melt it
would be washed away. That didn’t stop the
beavers. They were making due with the little
run off they got this year. Here are two dams
they made.
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GUNNISON:
Before we reached town we stopped and hiked
up into the snow belt and forest. We played
made snow men and threw snow balls, and
frolicked.
It was a great day.
Camp Life:
It’s time to build a fire for our New York Steak..
I got out our ¾ size axe and started splitting the
wood. Building a good fire is easy. Small chips,
slices of wood, getting larger and larger are all set
over a few rolled up newspapers. Dry wood is
essential. We keep it under your picnic table.
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GUNNISON:
Most people don’t really take time to build a fire
or care for the wood they use. A bad smoking
fire is the worst possible camper problem.
This isn’t a blazing fire. It was hot, and constant
enough to grill the steak and cook the green and
yellow beans. We had them with our Ferral’s pie.
We put up the awning and sat outside in a slight
breeze. Dinner was really good.
Later we cleaned up, washed our dishes and
doused the fire, swept the trailer, shook the
kayaks to check if they were secure, under our
knots, and staked our two US flags beside camp.
That’s the end of the dinner and work cycle at
camp.
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GUNNISON:
As we were enjoying our pie a cute little red fox
scooted by. It stopped and looked at us and then
continued down the road. These guys are not
like raccoons which are the worst pests, but they,
like coyotes are too clever and resourceful. We
needed to keep an eye on this one.
Years ago all our possessions were in the van.
We used to empty it every night to make room to
sleep. Everything would be piled on the picnic
table. To secure it we always covered it with a
tarp and then wrapped a shock cord around it.
We were really lucky as we were in some of the
wildest most desolate country in North America.
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GUNNISON:
Since then nothing has ever stayed on the picnic
table. We keep it inside and covered. These
pesky fellows are a lot smarter than we are and
it’s their home so they feel pretty free to do as
they please.
In Alaska we found a den of ‘kits’ and four of
the baby foxes were out running around. They
were flashing balls of fur in perpetual motion.
Each a different color red, black, tan, and
brownish. We watched them for a long time. I
was in hopes of taking a photo of them, but they
never were still long enough.
This one was an adult, redish color and bright
eyed and alert. It kept looking around and
moving along like it was on a mission. We
suppose a mission for a meal.
Down the road it stopped at another camp site.
This time we could see that their picnic table was
filled with food, and not covered. The campers
weren’t around.
Often weekend campers, and fishermen will leave
everything out on tables or stools, never covered.
We’d think they had never lost anything.
The fox was quick. It took a moment to hop
onto the table, lift a box of crackers, and a pouch.
We’re guessing the pouch was a freezer bag.
There was no need to chase it off. One jump
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GUNNISON:
with the pouch in it’s mouth and it took off up
the mountain side. Like ‘Porky Pig’ says ‘That’s
all Folks’. It was gone in a flash.
That evening we visited with the campground
hosts. It was a pleasant and they made several
suggestions to us about climbing the pass above
the Taylor Reservoir. The dirt road was in good
shape, and as a short cut to Leadville it was better
than going around through Gunnison. Well you
know I liked the idea. Arlene wasn’t totally sold.
They also told us that around the reservoir they
had see lots of big horn sheep.
It’s always nice to hear about the local area. We
enjoyed the stories. They were planning to go to
Alaska the next summer. We suggested they get
a copy of the ‘Mile Post’. It describes every mile
along the ‘Al-Can’, the Alaska-Canadian
Highway. We also recommend our favorite
Canadian author Pierre Burton, who was born in
Dawson City, Yukon.
We left them and walked back to our camp. The
night air was cool, the forest was quiet, and the
stars filled the heavens.
Tin Cup:
We woke early the next morning after deciding to
go up the valley to Tin Cup. Often a good
breakfast helps us through most of the day, and
with this adventure in mind we had eggs and
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bacon with several slices of toast and always
coffee. It’s been years since we used an oven.
Not since our oven blew up on us in our RV.
We usually use our propane stove top and
microwave or build a fire outside to cook. Some
of our friends bake and cook in their ovens. We
buy our pastries.
Each day before we leave Arlene packs a few
snacks and we lock-up the camper. The awning
is never open so we don’t need to close it. Like
the oven we’ve had a few bad experiences with
our awnings. They have ripped open while
traveling, been blown over the top of the camper
by the wind and on more than one occasion
caused us to get up in the middle of the night
because of high winds. Often the latter means
you don’t have time to get dressed to wind it
back in.
We were pretty excited about our chances of
seeing some big horn sheep. We had seen a
couple just down the road from us. They are
always a find, even though they didn’t have
curling horns.
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GUNNISON:
We were off following the road as it twisted and
turned along the river toward the Taylor
Reservoir high in the mountains.
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GUNNISON:
As we neared the reservoir the valley opened up
and the lake that took it’s place filled out around
the thirteen thousand foot mountains.
To one side of the dam was a high rocky cliff.
That was where our camp hosts had told us to
look for the sheep.
We pulled over to the side of the road and got
out our binoculars and best long range camera.
The one with the greatest distance lenses view.
It was amazing the hillside was so steep we
couldn’t climb it without ropes and climbing
gear. Yet there all over the cliff were these sheep.
As we neared the reservoir the valley opened up
and the lake filled out around the thirteen
thousand foot mountains.
To one side of the dam was a high rocky cliff.
That was where our camp hosts had told us to
look for the sheep.
We pulled over to the side of the road and got
out our binoculars and camera.
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GUNNISON:
It was amazing the hillside was so steep we
couldn’t climb it without ropes and climbing
gear. Yet there all over the cliff were these sheep.
They looked like females and their kids. Those
that had horns were like the ones we’d seen along
the road.
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GUNNISON:
Big horn Sheep are often confused with
Mountain Goats. There are two basic
differences. Mountain Goats are white with
black short horns. Big Horn Sheep are mostly
gray or tan and have curly horns. The males
horns are large, while the females are much
smaller.We took many pictures, some of them
climbing, some feeding from sprigs of grass
growing in the crevices, some just looking
around. They didn’t seem to be concerned about
us. Maybe because we were so far away. Most of
our pictures were fuzzy. This one is the best, yet
only captures several. There were more than
fifteen in the herd. We watched for an hour
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GUNNISON:
Before moving on around the reservoir. We had
to remind ourselves that our camp, One Mile,
was down this narrow valley behind the small
dam. We’ve been under these dams before as it’s
the favorite place for the Corps to put their
campgrounds.
Fort Peck in Montana is the only dam we know
that collapsed letting the Missouri River flow
through. Never-the-less it would be a terrible
mess, if the Taylor River Dam gave way. Our
best bet would be to climb over the nearby fence
and head as high into the mountain as we could,
leaving everything we owned behind.
The reservoir was a different environment than
the others along the Gunnison. They were long
and narrow, while this one was settled between
several mountain ranges. It had a round shape
with a smattering of pines on the hillside. There
was a small community of cabins spread along
the southern side, but not much activity.
There is so little traffic, around the cabins that we
thought it would be a lovely place for a get-away.
In a few years it will be filled, as more and more
people look for these kinds of places to spend
their summer.
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GUNNISON:
Even though we had taken our pretty flies and
fishing gear, it looked encouraging, but we didn’t
stop. Imagine had we’d caught a monster sized
Rainbow Trout. These are stock waters you
know.
We circled around the reservoir and started up
one of two, single lane dirt, roads headed for the
Continental Divide. We would later take the
other road as we left camp headed toward
Leadville, but for now we were on the hunt for
the mining town called Tin Cup.
Tin Cup was founded by miners in the late
1850’s. If you thought like we did that miners
traveled in small groups or by themselves, you
might believe they had ‘no-fear’, going anywhere
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GUNNISON:
in search of some sparkling metals. Before the
20th Century they mostly searched for gold or
silver. They had followed the animal paths, and
Indian trade routes. Beside that they buildt their
own impossible roads to get to these riches.
They have left many of us with another kind of
riches. For us they are a few of the really fun and
exciting roads around the mountains of Colorado
and other places. In fact all over North America.
We began our climb up the road. Not bad as dirt
road’s go. It didn’t have high ridges. Those
ridges scrape along the bottom of our vehicle and
make driving them impossible. Often many well
traveled dirt roads are plowed, but this one
hadn’t been. So beside the sharp turns and the
cliff drop-offs we were doing okay driving along
at about 10-12 mph.
We were headed up a valley along a small creek.
It was hard to keep track of it because of all the
underbrush. As we drove we asked why a place
like this would be called ‘Tin Cup’. Aren’t they
associated with the Great Plains, cowboys and
cattle herds? Sure they are. Even our forebearers
crossing the country carried some of their prize
possessions: tin plates, utensils and cups that
were so much lighter than porcelain, fired clay or
wood.
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GUNNISON:
Tin has been around for thousands of years, the
beginning of the Bronze Age about 23,000 or so.
It’s pretty easy to blend with copper and makes it
much stronger.
Probably, being light weight made it popular with
the miners.
Looking down the Taylor Valley you can see the
road we’ve climbed. Beyond the first tree line is
the reservoir.
We were about to get a real surprise. Tin Cup
wasn’t a ghost town. Nor was it some small
town with a few miners. Back 60 years ago it had
2,000 miners or criminals. It flourished even
though it was believed to be lawless. Several
cemetery sites hold shot down sheriffs who came
to an early end. This place could have been like
Deadwood, South Dakota.
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GUNNISON:
Although Pikes Peak’s Colonel Pike had traveled
all around the area, and the Ute Indians lived in
the mountains, James Taylor is given credit for
naming and working the mines. The story goes
that he was on his way back from a failed
California Gold Rush in 1859. He carried his
riches out in a ‘Tin Cup’. He was 32 years old.
Wow!
It’s hard to point out the several icons of the
town, but here are a couple of photo’s that tell
the story.
The General Store is where we bought hot coffee
in a tin cup, and burnt our hands while shifting
from one to the other.
It’s possible that no small town has a dump.
Consequently everyone keeps their auto’s and
other large trash like washing machines or old
playground equipment in their backyard.
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GUNNISON:
Hear is an example of this trash on Third Road.
Right in the middle of town.
But, maybe the outstanding view of the town’s
church tells it all. People say they live year
around in Tin Cup. Maybe they do, but what
happens when it snows in the later part of the
winter.
Snow often fills the whole valley. So deep as to
cover the church’s steeple. If that were true and
everyone believed it. Wouldn’t every building in
town be covered. Surly the few town folks would
be tunneling to the General Store.
We had expected more of a ghost town, and
never something like Crested Butte. After an
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GUNNISON:
hour we started back up the mountain toward the
pass.
About a mile later Richard couldn’t resist the
small ponds along our creek. We stopped and he
climbed down to them, first to see if each one
was marked by beaver dams and if any fish were
swimming around. Yes despite no trees were
near-by there were small beaver dams. He tossed
his fly out into the middle and retrieved it several
times. That’s a sure sign that he hadn’t seen any
fish.
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GUNNISON:
Near the top the road it got much steeper, trees
started to fill in and snow covered the ground.
We saw our first mine entrance. It was on the
hill side above us, closed, boarded, and
dilapidated. It must have been like that for a long
time.
A little further along we came to a deserted
cabin. This time we did stop. Mostly, the sun
had melted the snow. We walked around it. It
was built with really big logs. Probably, they
weren’t split, but actually were the size of the
near-by trees.
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GUNNISON:
.
We were now within reach of the Cumberland
Pass. At the top we took several pictures, all
looking west toward the Taylor Valley road we
just driven up.
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GUNNISON:
Here we are at the Pass,12,050 feet. Tin Cup was
our objective for the day so you can see we’ve
over done it a bit. It’s taken us five hours to
travel these 24 miles from our camp. It’s been a
great morning.
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GUNNISON:
Arlene’s posing for the last shot of the valley.
You can see our dirt road twisting down behind
her.
We didn’t cross over the Continental Divide and
go down the eastern side. Instead we returned to
the fork in the road further down into the Taylor
Valley.
It wasn’t nearly as steep as our road; in better
condition and eventually led to US 50 and a little
further to Gunnison. We took it and once in
Gunnison, a couple of hours later stopped at
Ferrels for a takeout picnic dinner.
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GUNNISON:
Often the roads are so bright that the camera
doesn’t capture the ruts or roughness. This road
has been plowed, and is relatively flat, but not
smooth.
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CHAPTER 7
COLORADO RIVER:
From the Gulf to Colorado:
Now we are headed back to the Colorado River.
In previous Episodes we have written about our
travels along this great river. We won’t repeat
them, but they have represented years of
enjoyment and wonderful experiences.
We’ve written about the history of the great lake that
bordered Mexico long before Arizona and California
that drained into the California Gulf, and the Indians
that lived there for hundreds of years.
We’ve shown how the Imperial Valley, and
Salton Sea were created by, and for the irrigation
and development of agriculture.
Before the dams, the Colorado was commercially
navigated from Yuma to Black Canyon, just
south of where the Hoover Dam is today.
Now with the river semi-tamed and dams almost
everywhere we’ve camped, waded and swam in
the clear green waters above the Parker Dam at
Buckskin State Park .
We’ve seen the bath tub ring around Lake Mead
in Nevada and Lake Powell, where the drought
shows it’s ugly face. We cruised Lake Powell
where at times we crawled 5 MPH across the
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COLORADO RIVER:
shallows. ( The San Juan River, with the most silt
of any river has filled the dam.) To Rainbow
Bridge in the most desolate of areas of the
Escalante.
We have ridden the white water rapids above the
Grand Canyon, and jet boat along, south of
Moab through Canyonlands National Park.
All of these experiences have been grand and
taught us a lot about this magnificent river.
Our favorite of all areas along the river is of
course the Grand Canyon, both the South and
North rim. But, the famous drive on Utah’s
route 129, Great River Road from Moab, Utah
toward Grand Junction is astounding.
Inside Colorado we have picked-up our path way
and stories from different areas and rivers that
pour off these great mountains and merge into
the Colorado River. We will continue these
stories from Leadville to State Bridge where again
we meet up with the Colorado.
Leadville to State Bridge:
We were really unhappy about leaving the Twin
Lakes; the source of the Arkansas River , but as
we turned toward Leadville there was this optical
allusion between two mountains that took our
interest. A very steep sharp, snowless Mount
Elbert rose high into the sky. Near-by Mt.
Massive a more rounded, snow cover mountain
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COLORADO RIVER:
to the north was lower in the sky. Mt. Elbert
looked to be much taller to the eye. Maybe,
because it was steeper, didn’t have any snow and
was in the evening sunlight. Never-the-less we
stopped and read several signs that told us that it
was an illusion. That the smaller mountain was
actually taller than Mt. Elbert. Taller by 12 feet.
Well; that’s the way our day was going. Now if
we could only find a place to stay before dark.
Arlene was searching for an RV park around
Leadville. She found one, ‘Sugar Lofin’. One
with electricity, clean toilets and showers. We
were even in time for the Ice Cream social with
home made Butter Pecan and Black Cherry. It
was so good and creamy. This place could turn
the days events around.
It had; but we also listened to the owners with a
slide show of the back country, along it’s long
lost railroads. They were rugged and looked to
be too rough for us, even if we were to stay a
little longer. We could never be able to drive
them.
We were up, but not so early that we couldn’t
stop in Leadville. We were thinking about Silver
Dollars. Being in the west where every man or
woman must have a jingle in their spurs and a
dollar or two in their pocket, we should be able
to find a few.
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COLORADO RIVER:
We stopped at the bank and asked. They had a
few and we bought them. We were able to buy 3
type 2 dollars. Do you wonder about how many
types there are? Well there are several, not just
by their date, and therefore value, as to how
many were printed, but by their basic type.
The one we covet is the large one made of
Silver. That’s what we call type 1. Type 2 has a
copper filling, is as large as type 1, and is
sandwiched with real silver. That’s the kind we
bought three of. Type 3 is the newer smaller
dollar that looks like a quarter. It’s the Susan B.
Anthony, but is silver colored. The forth type is
the newest golden color, small quarter size.
We left Leadville before the rest of the town
woke up. Back on the road we headed for Avon
and Vail. They are pretty busy places and we
hoped we could get a couple of prescriptions
filled. We have always shopped at Wal-Mart
because their gas is a little less and we can always
get our prescriptions transferred from our home
Wal-Mart to another without much trouble.
Even before we arrived in Avon we realized that
it was going to be a zoo. For miles we ran into
too much traffic and instead of valley walls we
were greeted with walls of condos and
apartments. They were shoulder to shoulder.
There could have been 20 miles of them.
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COLORADO RIVER:
By the time we arrived in Avon we were greeted with
this wonderfully designed retail and residential
community. The streets all had circular
intersections, leading to small quaint parking areas
with narrow roads that wound around trees and
garden areas. There were too many intersections,
and we found ourselves wondering where we were
and how to get there. Wal-Mart was just over there,
we could see it, maybe less than a football field away,
but couldn’t figure out how to get there.
Fortunately, we were given directions. We actually
got directions from several friendly people.
The directions were something like this;
1. Turnaround
2. Go right out of this lot. We had turned
into the wrong one.
3. Go right at the next stop sign.
4. Take the 1st right at the circle.
5. Go left at the 1st street.
6. Go left at the next intersection.
7. Go right into the Wal-Mart parking lot.
8. Park.
Yes we were within a block of Wal-Mart. Our
experience with large scale developers has always
been questionable. Here in Avon it had been
taken to new heights.
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JUST AROUND THE BEND
Episode VII
COLORADO RIVER:
Inside Wal-Mart at the Pharmacy we encountered
an additional group of headaches. Arlene’s
prescription could be transferred in a 1/2 hour;
mine would take a little longer, about 24 hours.
We waited for Arlene’s, while calling our doctor
in Florida. He would make arrangements with
Wal-Mart to verify my blood pressure and
cholesterol prescriptions.
Okay; with that we thought I’d just have to wait
until we got to Estes Park, just outside of the
Eastern side of the Rocky Mountain National
Park, where we had reservations in a couple of
weeks. Getting out of town was a lot easier than
going in. By, By, Avon sorry we visited.
Along the River:
We’ve been away from the Colorado River since
Grand Junction. We’ve seen so much of it that
for the past several weeks we’ve missed it. Here
it was again below us in a small valley outside of
State Bridge. It was a pretty site, narrower, than
at Grand Junction. The water was clear, bubbling
and rolling around creek like rocks.
On the far side was a rental shop with a group of
colorful canoes and kayaks, red, orange, blue and
green. A few paddlers were heading down
stream. They looked like a guided group.
We turned north onto a road that ran above the
river. There was nothing special about it, two
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JUST AROUND THE BEND
Episode VII
COLORADO RIVER:
lanes wide, dusty, and unmarked. It could have
been route 11 or maybe route 1. There was a
sign a couple of miles before we turned, but
nothing thereafter.
This was a beautiful drive, we were away from
the bustling population, driving above the river,
and not in any hurry. From time to time this old
road had a stretch of broken-up hard top.
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JUST AROUND THE BEND
Episode VII
COLORADO RIVER:
Occasionally we stopped and walked around,
throwing a few rocks down the hillside into the
river. It was a lot of fun.
At Kremmling we came back onto a real road,
US 40 and headed toward the East side of the
Rocky Mountain National Park, and Lake
Granby.
Along the way we made a couple more stops. At
the National Forest Center a lady called the
National Park to see if there were any camp sites
left at Timber Creek. There were and she told
them we were on our way. It was only an hour.
The next stop was at the National Parks Visitor
Center. Most of the afternoon had been pretty
good and after Avon I was feeling civilized again.
But, maybe I was a couple of steps ahead of
myself.
But, to test ones patience, we encountered three
of the stupidest, Park Service folks we’ve ever
run into. And we have seen a lot of dumb,
unknowledgeable ones over the years.
I don’t suppose it’s any reflection on the
Department of Interior’s ability to manage the
parks. Heck; why should their employees, or
contractors reflect on them?
Here’s what happened when we asked.
Question:
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