Colorado Blue

8-6-2021

------

My stay in Ouray has been all too short, but it’s time to be moving on. You see, this trip, I have somewhere very important to be! One of my best friends is getting married in Denver on Saturday (tomorrow)! I couldn’t possibly miss that, even if I will be sad to leave the wilder regions of Colorado. So today I say goodbye to Western Colorado, and cross the mountains over to Denver.

Crossing this region of Colorado is always a little interesting. Today’s concern was that Highway 50 – one of really only two roads that links this side of Colorado to the Denver area – would be closed. Not down to one lane, but closed entirely. The highway winds through a very narrow rocky gorge that’s prone to shed large boulders onto cars below, and this year CODOT was determined to do some blasting to widen the cut and improve the engineering of the hillside. A noble cause, but… you know, I wanted to go on that road. Because the other option is to tack another hour and a half onto my drive by taking the Highway 92 detour up and around the closed section of 50. Because the OTHER other option, which is to run all the way up to Grand Junction and then over through Glenwood Springs, is no longer an option due to mudslides in Glenwood Springs wiping out the highway. There’s just not a whole lot of roads that cross giant mountain ranges like this, and those that do, are plagued by instability and, consequently, frequent closures.

Jane and I set out relatively early, for us, with the hope that I’d be able to find some way to cross the Rockies without making my drive 7 hours. Showing up to a social affair after 7 hours of driving through the mountains is just… well, not fun.

We hit Montrose and our turnoff for Highway 50, and as luck would have it, CODOT was feeling generous. Giant signs proclaimed Highway 50 to be fully open due to the closures of the other highway at Glenwood Springs. A good logical decision, but you never know with government authorities, so I was happy to see that someone had made the call. Feeling substantially more optimistic about the day’s driving now that I knew I could take the road I wanted without any crazy detours, I settled back into the seat, ready for some good curvy mountain roads.

The day proved to be one of those classic Colorado Blue days, with the sky presenting an endless vibrant blue studded with fluffy sun-drenched clouds. It’s easy to get lost in a sky like this, looking up into the impossibly deep vastness of the universe. If you keep your eyes on Earth instead, it’s equally easy to be drawn into the landscape. On days like this, it feels as if you can see with perfect clarity all the way to the horizon, however far that may be. And you find yourself wanting to know what’s beyond even that furthest point. Days like this are the perfect days for driving great roads.

Traffic was constant but widely spaced, as if everyone was taking the opportunity to slow their lives down to enjoy this perfect moment in time. I know I did. We carved our way east with perfect composure, reveling in the luxury of the sun’s warmth, the slight crisp chill to the breeze, the whisper of tall grasses and the rustle of aspens, the varied stunning landscapes that changed with each twist of the road.

Curecanti is especially beautiful on days like this.

Plains gave way to foothills, and foothills gave way to mountains, and we wound through we wound through Monarch Pass, at 11,312 ft. elevation. Many people stopped at the top of the pass to catch their breaths and cool their cars before braving the descent, but not us. Jane was made for this. We continued on. The mountains gave way back to more foothills and then to more plains. 

Suddenly things began to look familiar, and I realized that we were skirting my old stomping grounds! Back when I lived up in Florissant, CO, I used to come out this way to Antero and Fairplay for drives through the vast grassy plains. This is the South Park Basin, also known as the Heart of Colorado. The pastureland here is full of herds of horses and pronghorn antelope and not much else – few homes, few things to clutter the landscape. It was always a nice treat to be able to run out here where I really had space to breathe, with ample stretches of straight road where I could truly open the motor up. Twisty mountain roads might be more fun to drive, but there is something special about seeing this much space ahead of you and knowing it’s all yours to claim.

Fifty miles later, I was out of the basin and back up in the mountains, crossing the remaining bit of the Rockies to reach Denver. By this point, the perfect Colorado Blue day had disappeared, replaced by a drizzly rainy gray afternoon, fairly common in the summers here. Traffic cluttered up, speeds slowed, and I considered my perfect moment of leisure ended. Now, I had one mission: get to Denver, as expediently as possible.

Strong summer squalls whipped through, periodically drenching me and everyone else on the road and slowing traffic to a crawl. Mountain driving might be fun normally, but it is absolutely no fun at all in a terrible rainstorm when you can’t see. Jane’s wipers beat furiously, and eventually even I conceded to the weather, pulling my arm inside and rolling my window up, leaving the vent window cracked on anti-condensation duty. Well, at least the car would be a little cleaner when I arrived at my friend’s house, maybe.

I grumped my way into Denver as the storms cleared and a smokey haze – drifting all the way from the wildfires in the Pacific Northwest, apparently – filled in in their place. My Colorado Blue day was gone. But my spirits remained high as I arrived safely at my destination and joyfully greeted my friend, her soon-to-be husband, and her family. The whole house appeared to be at a rolling boil as preparations for tomorrow’s wedding continued; I was immediately thrown into the mix and got to work helping to pull things together. And so the next two days passed, with me temporarily trading my serene, solitary road trip life for bustling, lively wedding party duties, and Jane sitting dutifully in the family’s garage, covered in no small amount of grime (turns out instead of cleaning the car, the rain just mixed with the dust and made mud) and patiently awaiting the open road.

The next post I make will be for August 9^th, which is the day I’ll be back on the road. Until then… Kelly signing out.