Browsed by
Category: travel

Last Chance Mine

Last Chance Mine

Comments 0 Comment

When we pulled into the cramped parking lot we had gone as far as we could go. Last Chance Mine, the sign read, and that’s just what it seemed. Our last chance to visit a mine on this trip, since the Creede Mine was closed. Our last chance to turn around and find the loop road that was taking us around the mountain. 

Turns out, the name had another, more colorful meaning. A long-ago prospector, Ralph Granger, having struck out on other claims, was about to give it all up, move to Denver and become a city boy. This was his last chance to hit it big, he told his cronies down at the bar. But when Granger went to collect his burro (the sale of which would be his ticket out), he couldn’t find the critter. He looked around town to no avail, finally locating him 2,000 feet up the mountain. 

Granger was so angry at the wild goose chase that when he reached the burro he beat his hammer on a rock to vent his frustration. And that strike revealed the apex of a rich silver vein that ultimately yielded over $2 billion of the precious medal. 

We toured the mine yesterday, getting a taste of mining life circa 1891. It was fascinating and creepy. The best part: after an hour and a half they let us out. We made our way down to the old Wild West town of Creede, its main street dead-ending in a box canyon, and celebrated with ice cream. 

Ice Cave Ridge

Ice Cave Ridge

Comments 0 Comment

When I was a kid, I liked to explore the farm behind our house. It was mostly a cow pasture, but my romantic 14-year-old self once mapped it, naming one sheltered section the Land of Eternal Snows. 

I probably made this discovery in early March,  and I imagine that the small amount of white stuff that remained was gone the next day, but the Land of Eternal Snows it was.

Today I walked past fissures so protected from the sun that snow can last in them well into June. Since we were hiking in August, these were simply caves, not ice caves, but to peer into them was to see the earth revealing itself, layer by layer. 

What was most impressive about this trail, though, were the views off the ridge: mountains beyond mountains and a brow across from our trail, higher and more impressive than the one where we stood. I stayed well back from the edge. I always do. 

A Golden Day

A Golden Day

Comments 0 Comment

We arrived during the”golden hour,” that magical period of shadows and slanted light, and the arrival time seems to be casting its glow on the whole trip: The view from our place in Pagosa Springs, which goes on forever. 

The funky downtown, with its hot springs, river and old general store.

The late-day walk we took with two doggie friends — short legs, big hearts.

And moonrise over the San Juan National Forest. A golden day from start to finish.

Great Circle Route

Great Circle Route

Comments 0 Comment

It was a clear flight most of the way into Denver yesterday, and I had a window seat. I snapped a few photos and today discovered where they were: Wellington, Ohio; Bellevue, Ohio — places a little south of Lake Erie, whose shores we flew over for a while. 

Less than an hour later we were sailing above the clear blue of a large inland sea: Lake Michigan. From there we angled down through southern Wisconsin and Minnesota, crossing the Mississippi not far from Prairie du Chien. 

Clouds moved in as we traversed Iowa and Nebraska but they cleared as we approached Denver, long enough to see the irrigation circles in eastern Colorado. It was a geography lesson in a nutshell, a lovely morning in the heavens on the great circle route. 

Skipping Ahead

Skipping Ahead

Comments 0 Comment

Today we travel west to Pagosa Springs, Colorado. There’s family there, and a lot to explore. 

It’s been a while since I’ve driven through the American West, and I’m looking forward to the feeling I get there, a sense of limitlessness, of big skies and possibility. 

As a daughter of parents who drove across the country on their honeymoon, who thought nothing of cramming four kids into a station wagon and heading from Kentucky to California, skipping any part of a land journey feels like cheating. 

I should be driving to Colorado, a part of me says.  But the older, wiser part disagrees. Are you kidding, this is what you always wanted when you were a kid, to skip ahead, to forgo the tedium of familiar landscapes for the crisp, pure difference of western terrains. 

Skipping ahead is what we plan to do today.

(Colorado’s Great Sand Dunes, 2019.) 

A Cabin in the Woods

A Cabin in the Woods

Comments 0 Comment

As I re-acclimate to a quieter life from the whirl that was last week, I keep seeing our cabin in the woods. It’s a tucked-away place but close to hiking trails and sand beaches. 

Seeing it empty, as I do every year in the final minutes of our stay, making the rounds to check that windows are locked and trash is emptied, I’m struck by how much people animate place.

The couch and tables, beds and chairs, even the perfect porch that spans the back, are nothing without the daughters and sons-in-law and grandchildren who animate them. So even though I’m missing the cabin, I’m missing the people more.

Rock Maze

Rock Maze

Comments 0 Comment

The rocks appeared when we were told they would, a half mile into a fern forest. They seemed to emerge from the center of the earth, massive shelves of rock, dim and cavelike, green with moss. 

Rhododendron trees twined their roots around and through the rocks, and fissures erupted where you least expected them. It was an accidental discovery, a place found while looking for somewhere else. It was eerie and awe-inspiring, a glimpse of another world. I’m so glad we explored Maryland’s Rock Maze.

Smooth Re-entry

Smooth Re-entry

Comments 0 Comment

Our lake week is over, and what a wonderful week it was. So many laughs and memories. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

But the drive home meant the usual traffic, and by the time we reached the house it was hot and sticky, a typical 2024 summer day, heat index well into the 90s.

And then we stepped inside.The house was spic-and-span, a cool 77 degrees, classical music on the radio, courtesy of our friend and house-sitter. The parakeets were chirping. There was even some food in the fridge. It was the smoothest re-entry I’ve had in years. 

(Unpacking is always easier than packing. Above: a fraction of the stuff I took along.)

Paddle to See

Paddle to See

Comments 0 Comment

A favorite children’s book on our shelves is Paddle-to-the-Sea, a delightful tale of an Indian boy who carves a wooden canoe and paddler and sets them free in the headwaters of the Great Lakes. The little boat has many adventures, even crosses the Atlantic Ocean. The grown-up boy discovers it years later.

One of my favorite experiences on this trip was also a paddle. Not a paddle to the sea, but a paddle to see. It was just a kayak trip across a small lake, but the leisurely pace allowed for an exploration of lily pads and a tall-pine forest where low boughs kissed the water. 

I felt like I was seeing the lake for the first time. Dragonflies sipped water from my toes. The blue lake reflected white clouds. I thought about the restorative value of time on the water, of being adrift on a distant pond.  

Mountain Maryland

Mountain Maryland

Comments 0 Comment

Mountain Maryland, it’s called, and yesterday I had a good taste of it, having turned left instead of right at a crucial juncture. No matter: all the better to explore this slice of heaven, this melding of lake and hill and sky. 

This is the fourth year for an expedition to western Maryland, which is as different from D.C. Metro Maryland as one can imagine. 

Here there are fields of daisies and roads along ridge tops with views of barns and corn and cows. There are shady glens, broad vistas, and lakes with lily pads. It was love at first sight, and later visits have only confirmed the initial attraction. 

Mountain Maryland is a place for me.