A Dichotomy of Flowers and Cavernous Holes

7/30

This morning, I headed north of town to hike some of Crested Butte's most scenic trails. The plan was to take the road up to Gothic, do some hiking up there, then come back down to Snodgrass (which is a hilarious name).

Of course, I derail my own plans with alarming frequency. I made it just a little bit up the road past Snodgrass before deciding that I just absolutely, positively had to hike Snodgrass first. There were just way too many amazing flowers to justify going to any other place first.

I parked Jane and headed up the Snodgrass Trail, veeing off onto Teddy's Trail shortly to head across a meadow festooned with an almost garish display of wildflowers. I'm not a flower expert by any means, so I'll just say that I counted more than 15 types of flowers with a huge array of shapes and colors ranging from a deep winey purple to a brilliant goldenrod.

I ran into another hiker on the trail, who informed me with all the jaded attitude of a local that the flowers were "just a little past their prime, what a shame". Being an out-of-towner, I couldn't see the distinction. I thought they were simply amazing. But what do I know.

The trail meandered through meadows and shady aspen groves, up steep hills and down into woody hollows, and I found myself more and more grateful that I had decided to come up to Crested Butte.

Other hikers came and went, cheerfully proclaiming that they were "flower freaks" or just fellow appreciators of the outdoors. Eventually the trail looped back on itself, and I found myself back at the trailhead, feeling refreshed and ready for another hike.

Jane and I trundled up the dirt road to Gothic, taking in the incredible scenery. There are few sights better than Colorado in high summer, that's for sure.

Gothic is home to the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory, a longstanding bastion of biological research rivaled by few other places in the States. I stopped by their visitor center to learn some about the place, though unfortunately I wasn't able to take a tour. Though the town gives the appearance of being an old abandoned mining town, it is home to a hive of over 200 researchers every summer, all working together to tease apart the secrets of the Rockies.

A large focus of RMBL's work has been on the interactions between bees and flowers, and my hike around Snodgrass had enlightened me as to why. There are probably few places in this world where such a huge diversity of pollinators and pollinated exist. In a world of declining bee populations due to fragmenting habitats, pollutants, insecticides, and climate change, Crested Butte is a refuge and a paradise. But according to the biologists, even paradise is in decline, with a longer growing season separating the growth of spring and fall flowers, leaving bees hungry in between. It's easy to see why RMBL's work is so important, and I couldn't help but think that the bees here are probably better cared for than most other places in the world. As I spend so much of my time in nature, I also spend a lot of time worrying about climate change and its impact on the beautiful places in the world. I found it comforting to see that here, at least, there are hundreds of researchers all pushing towards greater understanding and future conservation efforts.

After sitting outside the lab's visitor center for a while thinking about things, I headed north of Gothic to the Judd Falls trailhead for a nice waterfall hike. I've got to say, while it was nice, it had nothing on Snodgrass! Waterfalls just can't compare to the vibrance of wildflowers in summer. The scenery at the tailhead, on the other hand, definitely gave Snodgrass a run for its money.

I headed back to Chris's place mid-afternoon to say my goodbyes and wait out a few rain showers. Then we struck out west, pausing only briefly to look at some cool rocks.

Eventually we arrived at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison south rim campground, my first campsite stop of the trip. Being up there felt like being on top of the world. The wind whistled sharply through the low bushes, reminding me of the impending rain that threatened to ruin my planned pre-dinner hike. So after setting up camp, I double-timed it out to the Rim Rock Trail to get my first view of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison.

I also saw some nice flowers along the way.

As first impressions go, the Black Canyon makes a pretty awe-inspiring statement. It's kind of obscured until you get right up to it, and then a wave of vertigo sweeps through you and all you can think is, "Whoa, that's a really big hole in the ground."

The canyon is composed mostly of schists, gneisses, and granite dikes, which all present somewhere on the "light brown to dark brown to gray" part of the spectrum. Consequently, it is nearly impossible to pick out all of the details, the folds and divots in the canyon. The longer you look, the more you can see - and the more you feel like you're about to be sucked in. It's unnerving, but in a really amazing way. Having been to the Grand Canyon before, I can say that the type of rock and general orientation of the banding makes a HUGE difference in how it makes you feel. The Grand Canyon feels vast and expansive in a comforting kind of way. The Black Canyon of the Gunnison feels vast and expansive in a gaping-maw-inexplicably-possessing-a-magnetic-field kind of way.

As the sun set, I headed back to camp, not anxious to be adjacent to such a big cliff in the dark. And it was at that point that I found that I had, by sheer luck, picked a campsite with a view that looked out hundreds of miles across the plateau. So, I was treated to a magnificent sunset with rain bands slowly moving through, a spectacle best watched from the top of the world.

Tomorrow, I'll see more of the canyon, but this seems a fitting place to end for the day. Kelly signing out.

Return to Colorado

7/29

I used to live in Colorado, you know. In fact, the first road trip I ever took in 2014 ended in Colorado with me moving into a place in Florissant. I worked for the National Park Service for a year as a museum technician / paleontologist at Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument. I loved my job and my town, but ultimately found that I couldn't hack the winters - seven months of snow, NO THANKS! So I moved on to graduate school in Austin, and now only have to complain about three months of blazing heat instead. But Colorado will always have a special place in my heart. It was the first place I ever moved away from home, and its beauty never failed to take my breath away.

I haven't been back to Colorado since 2015, mostly because I felt that I had seen quite a bit of it and not very much of a lot of other states. So my road trips have circled around it, always close but never quite getting there. But this year's the year! I've finally decided to go back and see some of the southwest quadrant of the state.

I left Santa Fe in the morning, ignoring my concerns for Jane as we ventured into more remote areas of the country. Every year that I do these trips, it seems that my first day is the worst. But after that, Jane and I are usually on the same page.

And so it was for this trip as well. We headed up the highway, motor purring with contentment, wind howling through the open window, radio whispering undertones of classic rock.

I grinned as we passed the Colorado welcome sign, which still remains one of the worst state welcome signs I've seen. And suddenly, we were soaring over hills and dipping through valleys, the scenery improving by the second.

I made my way up to Crested Butte, a fabled destination even by Colorado standards. My friend, Chris, had offered his spare bedroom up and I had jumped at the chance to visit. This place is known as one of the most beautiful spots in Colorado, and the views leading up into town definitely did not disappoint.

I parked Jane at his place and we opted to take his off-roading rig - a very badass Jeep - out to the top of Washington Gulch for some quality hiking. There was no way Jane could have climbed those roads, so I didn't feel bad leaving her behind. A record number of avalanches, caused by nearly 400% more snowfall than usual, had wiped out some of the trails and rendered a lot inaccessible only by 4x4. But when you've got a Jeep with big tires and a bigger lift, that doesn't really matter.

We hopped onto the 403 trail and hiked up, my body doing its best to suddenly re-acclimate to high-elevation cardio. I thought that the wildflowers were spectacular, but Chris said they were still a few weeks out from full bloom due to the late thaw this summer.

But the real gem of the 403 was at the top of the trail, we found. After a few pretty steep sections, we found ourselves loking over the backside of the Maroon Bells! Chris told me the names of all of the mountains, but of course I forgot them... so while I know that there were more mountains in view than the Maroon Bells, I also know that I have no idea what they were. Anyways, I really loved the combination of different mountain types. Some were clearly uplifted sedimentary rock, whereas others appeared to have an intrusive igneous origin. Geologically, super awesome! But from a layperson's standpoint, it just means that some mountains were red and softly sloped and heavily vegetated, whereas others were gray and sharp and craggy.

We made our way back down and into town, at which point I realized I was absolutely ravenous. Sometimes I forget to eat when I'm on the road, and it occurred to me that I had just hiked on a nearly empty stomach containing a sum total of two small granola bars for the day. Woof! We headed to the Last Steep, a local favorite burger kind of joint. I had a really cool Hawaiian burger and some artichoke cheddar soup. I'm not sure if it was because I was so hungry, but that burger was AMAZING.

After poking around a couple gift shops, we retired for the night and I collapsed into bed early. I wanted to get an early (for me) start on the Crested Butte trails. Chris had given me some great ideas for hikes but also had cautioned that parking would fill up fast, giving me incentive to actually move my butt in the morning.

So, until then... Kelly signing out!

Small town Sundays

7/28

I must confess that I jolted awake more than a few times early this morning, convinced that something terrible had happened to Jane and that I needed to go find her. But each time I remembered that she was exactly where she was supposed to be: at Ortega's, waiting on a new ignition coil.

The morning passed slowly as I waited for the call from Carlos, who would be picking up the new coil for me. We had worked out the best part available at the store in Edgewood (40 miles away) and he had offered to grab it for me, so all I could do was hang tight. In the meantime, I called around to the Albuquerque stores and found the exact right replacement available. I had it sent over to the furthest east store in town, figuring that I could go pick it up if I was able to get back on the road.

Late in the morning, Ortega's sent someone over to pick me up and take me back to the shop where Jane was held. And man, even when Jane is driving me crazy... I have to say, that car is just beautiful. There she was, sitting outside the shop in all her glory, completely nonfunctional but completely perfect anyways. The best worst car I've ever had and could ever hope to have.

I popped the hood to get started with the coil removal and suddenly a half dozen mechanics appeared, materializing as if they had been conjured from the nearest pile of dead tires. I was shocked that so many people were working on a Sunday, given that the rest of the town was pretty much shut down. But they were friendly, and fun to chat with, so I was glad for their company. Small towns are always great places to meet new friends, I've found.

As I pulled the old coil out, one of them - John - said, "You know, I think I have that exact coil at my house... let me go check" and off he went in a hot red Trans Am with nary another word. Meanwhile, the others searched for other coils laying around the shop that might work, and ultimately came up with one possibility. I opted to just wait for John's coil, figuring that an exact match might be better in this stage of my paranoia.

The part that he came back with sure did look identical to my Pertronix coil, though the resistance measured a little higher, but I deemed it worth a shot. So I plopped it in, and lo and behold... Jane fired right up!!

Pictured: the culprit.

It turns out that she has been starting more and more slowly (requiring the starter to spin more and more) over the past few days. I hadn't even given it a second thought, attributing the problem to some fiddling that I had done with the fuel system. But probably, looking back, that was the old coil telling me it was on the way out.

With the new coil in and Jane ready to rock again, I quickly came up with a plan: I would meet Carlos in Clives Corner to pick up the coil he had bought for me (as a spare), then run to Albuquerque to pick up the other coil I had found (as another spare). Then I would go on to Santa Fe to hang out for the night. Easy peasy!

Then came the matter of settling up with Ortega's. I tried to pay them. I really did. These people had, after all, picked me up and given me a tow to Santa Rosa (albeit on AAA orders), helped me find a room for the night, as well as food, given me on-demand rides at multiple points and always offered more if needed, let me work on my car in front of their shop and offered to help if needed, found me a bunch of spare parts and given them to me free of charge, picked up a spare part for me from a shop 40 miles away with their own money, and generally had shown me more hospitality than I've probably ever deserved. I cannot express how grateful I was (and am) for their help. With them backing me, I didn't feel like this was an issue at all. It just felt like a very miniscule bump in the road that had led to me making some new friends!

I did finally set out after promising to bring cupcakes or ice cream the next time I went through town. Then it was on to Cline's Corners with me, where I met up with Carlos and gave him a huge thank-you and 35 bucks in exchange for the new coil, bringing my total expenditures for this whole adventure up to $35. Gotta say, it's nice to have a car that uses cheap parts!

From there I headed to Albuquerque, then on to Santa Fe. Jane was behaving herself and life was once again grand. Ultimately I ended up only 5 hours "behind schedule" if I really even had a schedule to begin with. That's the nice thing about road trips, you know.

Pictured: all the people who care about me keeping to a schedule.

We rolled into Santa Fe in early evening, and Jane mad enough of a racket on the hill up to the lodge that a number of people popped out of various doors and windows to inspect her as I pulled up to the front door. Can't say I can ever sneak up on anyone, that's for sure.

There was an event going on downtown, so I took the shuttle into town rather than bothering to try to find parking. My main goal: to get some awesome New Mexican food (the fact that green chile is so totally criminally underused in the rest of the states is a source of constant disappointment to me). I tried out the Plaza Cafe and man, did it deliver! Chicken enchiladas swimming in Christmas sauce, sopapillas galore, and a giant slice of key lime pie to finish it all off. I'm stuffed!

And so now I'm headed off to bed, ready to catch some rest before the real adventure begins tomorrow. I can't wait to get up into the mountains!

Kelly signing out.

New adventure, new drama

It's 2019 and it's been quite awhile since my last trip! But that's how life goes, I guess, when you don't have unlimited vacation time.

Fortunately, though I do not have unlimited vacation time, I do have three weeks saved up, and so I'm back on the road! This year's trip will, of course, have me stopping by Reno for Hot August Nights. But I'll also be tooling around western Colorado, southern Utah, and northern Arizona for a couple of weeks revolving around that event.

Jane is rocking a new Holley Stealth Terminator fuel system, which I just got reasonably tuned up as of last week (of course), so I am prepared for all kinds of strange issues. So far I've been really pleased with it, but you never know with new parts... and what I do know is that Jane loves to eat fancy shiny parts for breakfast.

With that in mind and, consequently, no small amount of trepidation, I packed Jane up and we set off for New Mexico yesterday! I've said it before and I'll say it again: this drive SUCKS. It's mostly just terrible gray flat scrubby land and oil rigs for nine hours. I took a picture and it's terrible:

Anyways, despite how terrible the drive is, I have to say that I loved it. Jane is running better than she has in YEARS (apparently I've been driving around with a massive vacuum leak due to a warped intake and the old fuel system was masking it enough that I didn't notice... no words for that one) and the weather is significantly nicer than it was last year. Last year, I drove across Texas and New Mexico and Nevada and Arizona and Southern California and it didn't get below 100*F the ENTIRE TIME. This year, we've got nice balmy 90*F weather. That's not even sweatin' weather!

We screamed across the Texas plains and into New Mexico for a good 8 hours, definitely enjoying the high Texas speed limits. Life was good, even if the scenery left something to be desired. Some rain bands did make things a little better:

And then, as I was scooting through a small town somewhere in eastern New Mexico, suddenly the motor died. I stomped the gas, but got nothing. I then swapped down into 2nd gear to see if I could bumpstart it the ghetto way, and initially got nothing... but then everything came back online and we were back in business! Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Very suspicious.

Suddenly my nice wonderful drive through rural New Mexico was an extremely concerned drive through rural New Mexico.

Well, I got about 30 miles outside of Santa Rosa, my destination for the night, when it happened again. And this time it wouldn't restart.

I checked fuel first, and verified that it was all good. The next step was to check for spark. I hooked my spark tester (basically a strobe light on a plug wire) into the coil, and was attempting to figure out a way to see the strobe and also sit in the car to turn the key, when a good samiritan showed up! Wonderful. Cecil asked if there was anything he could do to help, and I told him that I could really use a pair of eyes.

So as I cranked the car over, he looked for a strobe light and found... nothing. We concluded that the coil had mysteriously died. He was majorly bummed for me, as the coil is not a "fixable on the side of the road" kind of part.

I went and got the hammer.

He looked at me holding this hammer, and said "that can't possibly work" and I just said "you'd be surprised..." and hammered the coil.

Then, I got back in Jane and cranked the starter over... and she fired right up!!

Poor Cecil got a pretty good shock as he had been holding onto the spark tester, but he was good natured about it and told me, "Man, I didn't think that had a chance in hell of working... if you had told me I'd see something like this today I wouldn't have believed you"

I will NEVER, EVER forget the look of extreme amazement on his face. I laughed about it for another ten miles.

And then, of course, the car died again. I pulled out the hammer, and... well, bummer, the coil was leaking oil from the top, so I figured that it was probably really truly dead.

I called AAA and another good samaritan, Patrick, and his daughter Lily stopped by to stay with me. They were kind enough to keep me entertained for the hour and a half that it took to get the tow truck out to me. Fortunately I was only 20 miles away from Santa Rosa at this time, so it wasn't too big a deal. In the meantime, we were treated to this absolutely spectacular sunset:

The "DO NOT PASS" sign kind of makes it funnier.

Eventually Carlos from Ortega's Wrecking Service came to pick me up, and Jane and I took the Tow Truck Ride of Shame the last 20 miles into Santa Rosa. Boooooo.

They were able to store her in a shop for the night, and even more fortunately, one of them was headed to a nearby town to pick up parts the next day! He offered to pick me up a new coil, since all of the parts stores here in town are closed on Sundays. Amazing service and a really great dude.

So that's where I'm at now. I'm hanging out waiting on Carlos to appear with some parts, and hopefully I will get a new coil in Jane that will last long enough for me to go to Albuquerque and pick up a spare. And then... onwards!!

Kelly signing out.