Well, we’re off again on this year’s trip. Tonight we find ourselves in Overgaard, AZ. It’s about 4 hours north east of Phoenix and was a good choice to avoid the traffic getting out of town. Tomorrow we push to Taos, NM where we have what looks to be a great B&B to stay at.

This trip was a long time coming and both Liz and I are excited to be on the road last. The road out of Payson travels up on top of the Mollogon Rim which reaches into the sky some 7000 feet. On our way up, we passed through a summer storm that dropped rain in front of us most of the way up. We were greeted at the top by a double rainbow and a bright orange sky that looked as though the surrounding pines were ablaze. Not a sight unfamiliar to this area as the surrounding hills are still charred from wildfires in recent years. Thankfully the BLM is wising up and cutting down the underbrush that fuels these fires and we saw plenty of evidence of that on the way here.

Tomorrow will be a mildly long day in the truck; traveling from Overgaard, through Showlow, St. Johns, Chambers, Gallup, Albuquerque, and finally into Taos New Mexico. I’m hoping to get some great photos in and around Taos, so keep your fingers crossed for me.

Saturday, August 5th.

Man that was a long drive. I don’t know what the programmers of Streets and Trips were thinking, but the drive up into Taos took almost 8 hours. Of course we did take the back roads, but we didn’t roll into town until about 4:00 p.m. Our drive took us though a handful of rainstorms and the skies boiled around us the whole way. Roadtrips in August rock.

Our first impression of Taos was nothing like the image I have pieced together from countless photo, stories, and ski brochures that I crossed over the years. Neither was Santa Fe for that matter. As we rolled along the Rio Grande for the last 60 miles into Taos, the beauty was repeatedly interrupted by sight of a rundown doublewide and the graffiti that seems to plague inner cities but also, oddly, this country side.

I guess in my mind the landscape would mirror that of Georgia O’Keefe’s painting and have a timeless quality. Massive territorial dwellings made of adobe, the brightly painted windows that we have come to know so well from just about any Taos advertisement, or the glowing hillsides that surround the town. Don’t get me wrong, these things are all still here and in mass, but you have be prepared to pickup the trash before you take the picture or get good at cropping to avoid the tagging on the side of the building. We figured that with this being such a tourist draw, the locals and the local officials would take a bit more pride in their town.  Enough on that!

Taos touts it’s very own micro brewery; Eske’s Brewery. Purely for Liz’s professional betterment, we decided sample their offerings. We sat on the patio and listened to live music, talked, and took a bit of interest in the local’s conversations. Not your mainstream Brewhouse, Eske’s laidback atmosphere and decent brews made for a nice a relaxing start to the evening. If you sit on the patio, be sure to take note of the cascade hops growing on the trellis over the patio.

After sampling the Nut brown and the Scottish, twice, we headed across the street for a nice sit down dinner; something we had not done since we left. We can’t seem to recall the name of the place, and yes the food was that unmemorable. It’s directly across the street from Eske’s; big two story building – you can’t miss it, but we recommend trying too.

From there we went back to the Casa Benevidas Inn where we were staying. Larger that we had originally thought, this Inn is a beautiful casa right on Kit Carson road which is a block or so from the Plaza. Here the traditional adobe, big beams, large rooms and bright trim come together to make for a great hang. The maze of rooms and corridors were adorned in paintings and antique regional furniture. The breakfast the next morning was amazing. Loads of fresh fruit, great homemade granola, and simple fruit muffins that leave you craving another for the rest of the day. And, when you are filled with all this good stuff, they come take your order for breakfast. We had a egg dish that was smoothed in green chile sauce.

After breakfast we took a drive through town where I got a few good shots. We saw some interesting parts of the outskirts of Taos, but left a lot for another trip. After a couple hours, we went back to the Casa and checked out before walking up to the Plaza and hitting a few galleries. We saw good a photographer and a few good paintings, but nothing that really jumped out at us. A local winemaker was selling wine there so we bought a couple bottles to remember the area. As we wrapped up the tour of the plaza, the skies began to darken and we headed for the truck in a light rain.

We headed north out of town as the rain really started and the whole valley socked in. Just after driving out of the storm, we paused to take a picture of Taos and the mountain getting swallowed by the rain. Most of the trip was uneventful. We stopped in the San Luis valley and hiked up to the shrine they have overlooking the town. The view was fantastic and the church was small but well built and the grounds were nicely kept. We stayed just long enough for it to start raining then headed down the hill to a little coffee shop where we warmed up before hitting the road once again.

We continued north through the San Luis valley and into Forth Garland. There the rain was pouring and the skies were dark. We followed a snowplow up the road which made us wonder what was in store for us when we reached the top of La Vita pass. We crested the top with no problem and as we started down the other side, we saw the need for the snow plow. The rain in one area had overcome the drainage plugging it with debris and covering the road with mud, sticks and other mountainside items. By the time we arrived, the runoff had slowed and we were able to sneak by before the state patrol shut the road and let the plow clean up the mess. We dropped down into Walsenburg where we stopped for fuel and a good stretch. It was still pouring rain.

Westcliffe lies northwest of Walsenburg 70 miles or so on highway 69. This twisting two lane highway is one of the best roads we’ve been down. Little traffic and great scenery as you head up into the wet mountain valley. Ranch after ranch pass by as you weave your way north into Westcliffe. In one spot you pass by a huge buffalo ranch where hundreds of buffalo dot a distant hillside and make you think back to distant times when these giant animals roamed the plains.

As we neared Westcliffe, we were greeted with the familiar chirp of the cell phone indicating we had a new voicemail. It was Liz’s Uncle Jim who thought we had come in the night before and wanted to know what time tonight we were coming out for dinner. It was nearing the 5 o’clock hour and we had not yet checked into our hotel, so Liz called Jim to let him know that we would do that first then head for the ranch. We learned quickly that the cell coverage here was spotty at best. It took three attempts to relay the plans to Jim with most of the calls starting and ending in “hello.”

The Alpine - Everything was booked in town, so this was the only place open. These are simple cabins that are out of town and up on the hillside. Our porch overlooks the valley and town and is a calm and relaxing place nestled into the trees. Our cabin came with two cats who hang out on our patio rain or shine. Liz named them Morris and Andy and they have been a source of entertainment as they stalk grasshoppers and wait by the door to the cabin.

We dropped our gear and headed for the ranch which was about ten mile out on the other side of town. We were the first one to Liz’s grandmother’s house which sits in a green valley and has the traditional ranch accoutrements. Uncle Jim and the rest of the family came up about 15 minutes after we got there and I got volunteered as the BBQ operator which I was happy to have a project to focus on. We noticed the gas grill had a leak in one of the fitting and the gas was blowing out enough that you could smell it in the house. Needless to say that we would have blown the house sky high if we would have lit a match. We shut it down and Allen and Lavern, Liz’s cousin and his friend, went to get the tank they had. Between the two of the hoses, we were able to piece together the right fittings and get the grill fired up without any mayhem. I won’t bore you with the details of the rest of the night, but everyone enjoyed catching up on current events and recent history.

Monday we woke up to more rain. So far we have yet to see a day without rain which is hurting my photography efforts. Today I had planned to ask Liz to marry me while we were on a hike. Now to find the perfect spot. We hike from the cabin up through a deserted camp grounds. It was a nice hike, but lacked any real vistas that seemed necessary in making the perfect moment. We took a couple shots, then headed back to the truck to find another trail. We drove along the base of the Sangre De Cristo mountains looking for a trail marker. Signs pointed out the presents of Taylor Creek so we decided to see what that was about. A four wheel drive trail lead us up the mountain to the Rainbow trail. The road was covered with rough boulders and looked like something from a jeep convention, but we motored up with ease and parked near the trailhead.

The rainbow trail drops immediately down to Taylor Creek which was flowing well due to all the rain. Once crossing the creek, it starts up the hill towards the summit of one of the peaks in the range. We hiked along through stands of Aspen and patches of wild flowers for around a mile and gaining elevation the whole time. We finely broke out of the trees and stood on a bend in the trail looking up at the massive peaks and down at the valley below. This was the spot (12:20).

I set up the camera as I often do and framed Liz against the backdrop of the peaks. I fired a test shot, then on the second click of the shutter, I set the timer and ran to where Liz was. With ring in hand, I turned to her and asked her to marry me. In her shock, she covered her mouth with her hands and I had to tell here to put them down until the camera fired. She did, then it did, then we kissed and hugged in celebration. She was speechless and danced around lacking the words to express the moment. In the rush of the moment and with all she said, I had missed the response to the question entirely. I asked her if she had said yes, she said she did, then we hugged some more. I then suggested that she break out the cell phone and give her parents a call since they were dying trying to keep this a secret. Liz called her mom and they talked as I photographed her in the moment. Needless to say, it was a total surprise.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but the ring didn’t fit. Once I picked it up, I questioned if it would fit, but I didn’t have the time before the trip to change sizes. We will need to get it resized, but at least she loves the ring. Plus, I can stop worrying about dealing with a long quite ride home.

The rest of the day was full of phone calls and miscellaneous tasks like getting groceries before we met one of Liz’s friends for dinner. Everyone had fun there catching up on the small town gossip and reminiscing about old stories.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Today is sunny. After a whole trip of rain, that sentence stands by itself. We are taking an easy morning before heading into town and getting some stuff done. Last night we saw signs for hi speed internet so that will be the first hot spot we have found outside of Bison Ranch on the first night of the trip.

Tomorrow will be the last day in Westcliffe and we will hit the road early Thursday morning for Ouray. This looks to be about 200 miles depending on our route, so it will be most of the morning in the truck. We have yet to look for property, but we will talk with a local realtor today and tomorrow to get a sense of the area and prices.

Thursday, August 10, 2006 We left Westcliffe today in route to Ouray. The drive up to highway 50 was spectacular. Two lanes, no traffic, and early morning light to make it all good. We made good time into Salida, CO where we stopped for some breakfast. The town was very cool and had a laid back atmosphere and lots of outdoor sport types. After breakfast, we cruised through the historical district with was not very large and then jumped back on the road to Ouray. We motored through Gunnison and had to stop for gas. 3.35 per gallon. We didn’t stay long and headed west again to the turn off to Lake City.

I had heard about Lake City from some reports people had left online. The road took us down along the river for about 30 miles until we entered this small town at the base of the mountains. Here several streams merge and form lakes and a larger river. We stopped at the local fly shop to ask what to use and see how the fishing was. We also asked about the cutoff road that was to take us over the mountains and drop us off in the town of Ouray. There also was good fishing along Henson creek which follows the cutoff road, Engineer Pass. We started up the road and no more than 5 miles in, it began to rain. Surprise, surprise.

The road starts out gradual and well maintained. We passed through state land with patches of private property, mostly old mining claims. There were a couple notable mine ruins along the road, so if you are into that sort of thing, it’s worth the trip. Since fishing in the rain was not going to be that much fun with the gear we brought, we decided to keep heading up the road and see if the rain would break. Engineer pass climbs up to 13,000 feet, but we didn’t know that at the time. All we knew is the guy at the fly shop said you needed four wheel drive and a steady hand.

As we passed jeeps coming down off the hillside covered in dirt and mud, we started to ask for more details on the road ahead. The first guy we stopped was a big Indian in a jeep with two passengers in raingear and he was wearing a blanket. He said there was no way I would make it without high centering. The guy at the fly shop suggested Cinnamon Pass would be a bit easier, but would dump us out in Silverton instead of Ouray. I asked about that route and the guy in the jeep seemed to think that was still going to be a challenge, but figured we could make it. Seemed like the more people we talked to, the worst I felt about what was ahead. But, we were starting to see some incredible alpine meadows, the skies were starting to part, and the only other way to Ouray was back down the pass followed by three and a half hours around the mountain through Montrose. We hit a few rough spots, but really the road was not that bad.

The afternoon rains were followed but waterfalls everywhere you look and as we climbed out of the tree line, the sun began to paint all hills with gold. We were in terrain like we had never seen. At about 12,000 feet, the entered the bottom of a caldera which was overlooked by the summit of the pass. I stopped to take a panoramic picture, and Liz walked ahead to stretch her legs; after all, we had been in the truck most of the day. I took my shots, they caught back up to Liz roughly half way up the caldera and was shocked to see hundreds of sheep grazing on the alpine flora. It looked like something out of the Alps and we stopped and watched in wonder how this would be a farmer’s grazing grounds. In fact, we were often surprised by what we saw on this road. Cabins built where you wouldn’t expect one could be built. One little cabin sat beside a gorge the owners gained access via a suspension bridge. It was very cool and we couldn’t stop talking about it the rest of the trip.

The summit of Engineer pass is just under 13,000 feet. You actually continue to climb if you take Cinnamon back down, which we did. So far the road was not too tough, but with all the tough talk from the jeepers, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop around every bend. As we started out decent on Cinnamon, our GPS read out 12, 996. That’s close enough for me to consider this the first 13,000 foot peak we had ever driven over. I’m going to fast forward down the mountain as it was beautiful, but uneventful. The road was narrow and rough, but I just put the truck in four wheel low and crawled along. If you don’t like driving along steep drop-offs, I would suggest choosing a different route. As we watched the altitude on the GPS, we grew more confident that the worst was behind us and we started talking about where to stay since rain was predicted, and neither one of us wanted to camp all that bad. We talked about how cool it would be to camp at 13,000 feet in one of the alpine meadows, or near one of the alpine lakes, but in the end we decided to see if we could get a room in Ouray.

The Animas forks is essentially the beginning of the Animas river and all the streams begin to feed one central channel. It also is where the Animas ghost town and mine remains are. Roughly ten buildings and the decayed remains of the mine, Animas Fork was booming near the turn of the century. It also marked the point where we started seeing much less equipped vehicles crawling over rocks and trashing the rental company’s paint job. When we saw our first mini van, we knew Silverton was near. Ouray is 22 miles from Silverton on paved roads, but they twist and turn so much that the speeds we traveled were under 30 mph most of the way. In Ouray we checked into a hotel and rushed out to get a bite to eat before everything closed. We ate at Billy Gruff’s which has good food and beer, then went back to the hotel to unpack the truck and relax for the night.

Friday, August 11, 2006

This morning we toured Ouray. We took our time moving through some of the shops and even watched a local glass blower for a while. A sign to a local art exhibit caught our eye so we spent some time waking though some good and some not so good art. Ouray is a quaint little town that sits in the crux of red mountain pass. If you are ever in the area, it’s worth a visit. We drove through Silverton on our way to Durango and picked up a map and some advise for fishing on the trip into Durango. Lime creek was the recommendation which is a 6 mile loop off the main road. Yes, it was rough and dirt. About two miles in the road drops to the creek and we geared up and hit it. I gave Liz a brief lesson on casting and we walked up the shallow stream. The fish were there and I go one bite, but caught none. We got frustrated with the tight casting lane which was not a good spot to teach Liz how to fly fish. We decided to hang it up about the time it started to rain and figured that we might give it another go in Durango on some more open water.

The drive back into Durango was wet.