Ouray Rerun
Yesterday, we took Darth Vader and went to Ouray. This tiny town was big in mining days, and now is a gateway to folks touring the San Juan Mountains by jeep, foot, ATV or bike. The old mine roads are everywhere, and give us all a chance to see some astonishing country and also to scare both ourselves and challenge our vehicles.
Don and I met because he was a host up at the top of the valley where I was workamping, He also drove the tour jeeps up on the evil mining roads. When I was too chicken to drive up to the upper campground, he volunteered to drive me and then drive me again and, well, he is still driving Miss Daisy.
So our visit to Ouray was an anniversary party of sorts. We drove down the flats of the Uncompahgre River, and the great white crags grew larger and fiercer, nicely set off by groves of flaming yellow aspens. We stopped in town to visit old friends, and then proceeded up , and I do mean up. When you are on Ouray’s Main Street, it would be impossible to believe that a road exists going up the wall ahead. The main road, the Red Mountain Pass is nearly impossible, and it scares me too much to drive it. Hard switchbacks and screaming drop offs with no guard rail or even a breakdown space. Locals say it doesn’t need a guard rail, why would you even think of driving off the edge? But the abyss pulls on me mightily and in my imagination, the truck gives a snort, rears and jumps over the edge.
We turn off this evil road and go up the dirt one to my old campground, where we linger by the rushing stream that was off my rear bumper, and look up at the familiar cliffs. It was perfect here, and really kind of too bad that it was my first workamper experience, as it will never be equaled, I fear, both in sheer physical beauty, and in the paucity of people making impossible demands of a “camping” experience. I would really love to come back some summer, but I fear Don would be bored.
We are next going to see how far up the fabled road to Yankee Boy Basin we can get. Darth Vader is a big tough 4x4 truck, with good ground clearance, but it also is a full bed stretch cab, so the wheelbase is very long. Great for towing, but maybe not so great for the short deep dips and tight turns of this old mining road. We see more and more snow, and realize that we may not get all the way up, but it is warm and the road is clear. The road has had a lot of work done on it, and under Don’s expert guidance we do make it all the way up. There are several one lane shelves, including the ”Jeep Wash”, which features a rock overhang, as the road has been cut out of a cliff like a slot, and a nice spring that showers the vehicles. I do have to hold on tight to the grab bars and gasp now and then, but soon it is clear that the truck loves this, and I relax and fill up on the spectacular scenery. In summer, this is a carpet of wild flowers, now it is snow covered dried stems. The clouds swirl, letting only spotlights of sun on various peaks.
The ruins of the various mines are snow covered, their structures highlighted. Amazing the work it took to get up here, and carry up the timbers and machinery. There were little towns and villages up here in the Gold Rush days, some of these mines were worked until the 1950’s. The price of gold is up these days, and there are rumors that some of the more lucrative mines may reopen. They say it will be only a two man operation, just picking out the big chunks for specimen collectors, not the car loads of ore of the old days. The closest ore smelter is in El Paso TX, used to be in Pueblo down Rte 50 at the foot of the mountains. And then there is the question of all the deadly tailings piled up, leaching poisons into the streams, one hopes that will be cleaned up some day.
Next day, we set out for Black Canyon National Park. The lovely reservoir at Blue Mesa filled up a little bit of this, but by far the largest part is a very deep dark hole, you can barely see the water at the bottom, and the rocks are mostly very dark, and hard. We visit the interpretive center, learn about the rocks and the nutcases who decided they had to try and descend the river, because it was there. In those days, before the dams, there was so much water that it deafened them with its roaring , and in full spate threw huge boulders around like marbles, sometimes piling them up in the narrow places. The first people to get down it did it on air mattresses. This canyon is so “bad” that I don’t think it is even rated, I can’t imagine them just “tubing” down it. They were looking for a place to make a tunnel and divert some of the water down to Montrose to irrigate the fields. They found a place, they built the tunnel and the valley is green.
We came out of the movie to find that it was snowing with enthusiasm, the canyon invisible, and we didn’t bring Darth Vader. The road was still pretty warm and the snow quickly became slush. We decided to try to get out, but Don’s pickup has summer tires and no weight in the back. We had to be pulled back to where the snow stops, and never really did get to see the canyon.
The snow is pretty, changes the landscape, I don’t really hate snow for itself. What I don’t like anymore is cold.
Don and I met because he was a host up at the top of the valley where I was workamping, He also drove the tour jeeps up on the evil mining roads. When I was too chicken to drive up to the upper campground, he volunteered to drive me and then drive me again and, well, he is still driving Miss Daisy.
So our visit to Ouray was an anniversary party of sorts. We drove down the flats of the Uncompahgre River, and the great white crags grew larger and fiercer, nicely set off by groves of flaming yellow aspens. We stopped in town to visit old friends, and then proceeded up , and I do mean up. When you are on Ouray’s Main Street, it would be impossible to believe that a road exists going up the wall ahead. The main road, the Red Mountain Pass is nearly impossible, and it scares me too much to drive it. Hard switchbacks and screaming drop offs with no guard rail or even a breakdown space. Locals say it doesn’t need a guard rail, why would you even think of driving off the edge? But the abyss pulls on me mightily and in my imagination, the truck gives a snort, rears and jumps over the edge.
We turn off this evil road and go up the dirt one to my old campground, where we linger by the rushing stream that was off my rear bumper, and look up at the familiar cliffs. It was perfect here, and really kind of too bad that it was my first workamper experience, as it will never be equaled, I fear, both in sheer physical beauty, and in the paucity of people making impossible demands of a “camping” experience. I would really love to come back some summer, but I fear Don would be bored.
We are next going to see how far up the fabled road to Yankee Boy Basin we can get. Darth Vader is a big tough 4x4 truck, with good ground clearance, but it also is a full bed stretch cab, so the wheelbase is very long. Great for towing, but maybe not so great for the short deep dips and tight turns of this old mining road. We see more and more snow, and realize that we may not get all the way up, but it is warm and the road is clear. The road has had a lot of work done on it, and under Don’s expert guidance we do make it all the way up. There are several one lane shelves, including the ”Jeep Wash”, which features a rock overhang, as the road has been cut out of a cliff like a slot, and a nice spring that showers the vehicles. I do have to hold on tight to the grab bars and gasp now and then, but soon it is clear that the truck loves this, and I relax and fill up on the spectacular scenery. In summer, this is a carpet of wild flowers, now it is snow covered dried stems. The clouds swirl, letting only spotlights of sun on various peaks.
The ruins of the various mines are snow covered, their structures highlighted. Amazing the work it took to get up here, and carry up the timbers and machinery. There were little towns and villages up here in the Gold Rush days, some of these mines were worked until the 1950’s. The price of gold is up these days, and there are rumors that some of the more lucrative mines may reopen. They say it will be only a two man operation, just picking out the big chunks for specimen collectors, not the car loads of ore of the old days. The closest ore smelter is in El Paso TX, used to be in Pueblo down Rte 50 at the foot of the mountains. And then there is the question of all the deadly tailings piled up, leaching poisons into the streams, one hopes that will be cleaned up some day.
Next day, we set out for Black Canyon National Park. The lovely reservoir at Blue Mesa filled up a little bit of this, but by far the largest part is a very deep dark hole, you can barely see the water at the bottom, and the rocks are mostly very dark, and hard. We visit the interpretive center, learn about the rocks and the nutcases who decided they had to try and descend the river, because it was there. In those days, before the dams, there was so much water that it deafened them with its roaring , and in full spate threw huge boulders around like marbles, sometimes piling them up in the narrow places. The first people to get down it did it on air mattresses. This canyon is so “bad” that I don’t think it is even rated, I can’t imagine them just “tubing” down it. They were looking for a place to make a tunnel and divert some of the water down to Montrose to irrigate the fields. They found a place, they built the tunnel and the valley is green.
We came out of the movie to find that it was snowing with enthusiasm, the canyon invisible, and we didn’t bring Darth Vader. The road was still pretty warm and the snow quickly became slush. We decided to try to get out, but Don’s pickup has summer tires and no weight in the back. We had to be pulled back to where the snow stops, and never really did get to see the canyon.
The snow is pretty, changes the landscape, I don’t really hate snow for itself. What I don’t like anymore is cold.
posted by Thistledown24 at 10:20 PM
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