Upon leaving the Lost Creek Wilderness in Pike National Forest, I was spent. I slumped into the driver's seat wondering where I could possibly go next that would rival the Colorado Trail, rowdy coyotes and forty miles of hitchhiking. I also wanted to make sure that I could find a nice home for the six-pack of Sammies that was lounging, frosty-cold in my cooler.
The guy who had driven my back to The Rig from Kenosha Pass had told me about Arapahoe Basin, the last ski resort still open in Colorado. In fact, he was so fired up about its mushy spring slopes that I had no choice but to go there and find out for myself what all the hoopla was about. Never doubt the word on the street.
The drive over the pass is simply mahhhh-velous. The dirt road twists its way next to jagged mountain faces that parallel a river churning
into the rock. Trees cling to the walls with a hardy determination. Yeah, baby! On the way up, I saw four mountain sheep kicking it live next to the road, no doubt waiting for a generous tourist to shower them with human treats. Visualizing a head-butt to the groin from these mottled and ornery looking beasts, I stayed safely in the car.
Along the entire east side of the road as one drives north over the pass is the Mount Evans Wilderness, the perfect location for high-alpine trekking in Colorado. Several primitive lakes sit in this Wilderness and, when I reached Guanella Pass itself, I stood out in the frigid wind, shivering as Mt. Bierstadt (apparently harboring the ruins of the elusive "City of Beer") loomed behind me. If you come here to hike the backcountry,
knowing how to spot and avoid avalanche-prone slopes is essential. You don't wanna turn your back on me; when you least expect it, I come with the wicked method.
Bumping down the backside of the pass, I felt like I was riding a glass elevator. The road switchbacks steeply into an old mining town nestled in the hills next to I-70 called Georgetown. I thought I saw Alonzo and Patrick panning for gold on Clear Creek, which shimmers like a ribbon.
I arrived in Dillon, about 20 miles west of Georgetown and immediately, fiends began their plot to ruin a relaxing evening. Clouds pushed in and mercilessly started coughing up sleet and hail as I forced the tent to life. Plus, the campsite hosts were all over my back to collect the fees right at that moment. Hey pops, could you wait until I can at least create a shelter?
In the morning, the sun popped out to dry up all the rain. I was camped by a murky pond next to the Dillon Reservoir and mist swirled off the bank so thickly that it looked like the land would burst into flame. The birds love this damp environment and they flapped around and carried-on like it was the dawning of the first day on earth. There was such a huge variety, and I watched bird games all morning. I wish I could recognize the species.
Dillon served as a nice resting spot which allowed me to catch up on a few journal entries to feed the growing masses. I checked out some of the local bike trails, too, and was really impressed at the large system of interconnecting trails among Breckenridge, Frisco, Dillon and Keystone. I took a short ride near Frisco but I kept it mellow and low-stress. The recreation opportunities in this area are plentiful. And that includes skiing.
As I mentioned, A-Basin was still open and after a night camped on the Snake River only 10 miles from the resort, I pulled together an approximation of ski clothing (my rain gear, mostly) and drove to the lifts with a long-shot plan to keep the cash outflow under control. I went into the administration offices, explained The Rig Foundation's objectives, and surprisingly, A-Basin granted my request for the donation of a lift pass and rental equipment for the day. We welcome Arapahoe Basin as our newest sponsor!
I couldn't believe how great the conditions were, even in June. The two
main lifts were open and the sun pounded down on the snow, turning it soupy. Spring snowboarding in Colorado is divine. A near vertical bowl at the top of A-Basin surrounds open terrain whose snow I peeled back in big sweeping carves on a free-ride extravaganza. I especially love the rustic charm and minimal feel of this original 60's-style resort. It's kind of like Homewood in California with its old chalet at mid-mountain. Why would I want a lot of expensive pomp and luxury? The hill is my draw.
Late in the day, I was riding up the lift and feeling hungry. Reaching into my pack for some goodies, I pulled out the odd combination of tastes that is sold in supermarket bulk bins as the "Brotherhood Mix." I find it funny that harmonious human race relations can be represented by a snack food.
But its tan peanut-brittle clusters, white yogurt-covered raisins and black chocolate-covered peanuts do not accurately reflect the entire picture of brotherhood on earth. Mix in a few gummy bears and green M&M's. How else can the birds that bring joy to my morning, the trees that give freshness to my air, and the animals that revel with me in the outdoors be represented? I'm not trying to present some whiny, "save the earth" analogy here. But the community of man must include the land and all its animals, whether smooth-skinned or furry, as members of the brotherhood. People who live in expanding suburbs and dense cities have lost the main components. They believe that the brotherhood is still intact. Sing it, Eddie. We're faithful. We all believe, we all believe it. Stay faithful to that illusion and the reality changes, unnoticed. Our world is a community and we must keep it balanced and healthy. Preserving open space is a method of keeping that balance. Are you a landowner with a desire to permanently save your land and "encourage the entire brotherhood"? There are some land preservation options that you might not know about. And everything is you........me, you....you,me....it's all related.
OK, Sorry for the wandering tangent. One thinks about odd things on the road alone. My day ended and I reluctantly bid adieu to Lenawee Mountain and A-Basin. Thanks for a great experience!
See y'all again soon amid the Arches.
The guy who had driven my back to The Rig from Kenosha Pass had told me about Arapahoe Basin, the last ski resort still open in Colorado. In fact, he was so fired up about its mushy spring slopes that I had no choice but to go there and find out for myself what all the hoopla was about. Never doubt the word on the street.
The drive over the pass is simply mahhhh-velous. The dirt road twists its way next to jagged mountain faces that parallel a river churning
into the rock. Trees cling to the walls with a hardy determination. Yeah, baby! On the way up, I saw four mountain sheep kicking it live next to the road, no doubt waiting for a generous tourist to shower them with human treats. Visualizing a head-butt to the groin from these mottled and ornery looking beasts, I stayed safely in the car.Along the entire east side of the road as one drives north over the pass is the Mount Evans Wilderness, the perfect location for high-alpine trekking in Colorado. Several primitive lakes sit in this Wilderness and, when I reached Guanella Pass itself, I stood out in the frigid wind, shivering as Mt. Bierstadt (apparently harboring the ruins of the elusive "City of Beer") loomed behind me. If you come here to hike the backcountry,
knowing how to spot and avoid avalanche-prone slopes is essential. You don't wanna turn your back on me; when you least expect it, I come with the wicked method.Bumping down the backside of the pass, I felt like I was riding a glass elevator. The road switchbacks steeply into an old mining town nestled in the hills next to I-70 called Georgetown. I thought I saw Alonzo and Patrick panning for gold on Clear Creek, which shimmers like a ribbon.
I arrived in Dillon, about 20 miles west of Georgetown and immediately, fiends began their plot to ruin a relaxing evening. Clouds pushed in and mercilessly started coughing up sleet and hail as I forced the tent to life. Plus, the campsite hosts were all over my back to collect the fees right at that moment. Hey pops, could you wait until I can at least create a shelter?
In the morning, the sun popped out to dry up all the rain. I was camped by a murky pond next to the Dillon Reservoir and mist swirled off the bank so thickly that it looked like the land would burst into flame. The birds love this damp environment and they flapped around and carried-on like it was the dawning of the first day on earth. There was such a huge variety, and I watched bird games all morning. I wish I could recognize the species.
Dillon served as a nice resting spot which allowed me to catch up on a few journal entries to feed the growing masses. I checked out some of the local bike trails, too, and was really impressed at the large system of interconnecting trails among Breckenridge, Frisco, Dillon and Keystone. I took a short ride near Frisco but I kept it mellow and low-stress. The recreation opportunities in this area are plentiful. And that includes skiing.
As I mentioned, A-Basin was still open and after a night camped on the Snake River only 10 miles from the resort, I pulled together an approximation of ski clothing (my rain gear, mostly) and drove to the lifts with a long-shot plan to keep the cash outflow under control. I went into the administration offices, explained The Rig Foundation's objectives, and surprisingly, A-Basin granted my request for the donation of a lift pass and rental equipment for the day. We welcome Arapahoe Basin as our newest sponsor!
I couldn't believe how great the conditions were, even in June. The two
main lifts were open and the sun pounded down on the snow, turning it soupy. Spring snowboarding in Colorado is divine. A near vertical bowl at the top of A-Basin surrounds open terrain whose snow I peeled back in big sweeping carves on a free-ride extravaganza. I especially love the rustic charm and minimal feel of this original 60's-style resort. It's kind of like Homewood in California with its old chalet at mid-mountain. Why would I want a lot of expensive pomp and luxury? The hill is my draw.Late in the day, I was riding up the lift and feeling hungry. Reaching into my pack for some goodies, I pulled out the odd combination of tastes that is sold in supermarket bulk bins as the "Brotherhood Mix." I find it funny that harmonious human race relations can be represented by a snack food.
But its tan peanut-brittle clusters, white yogurt-covered raisins and black chocolate-covered peanuts do not accurately reflect the entire picture of brotherhood on earth. Mix in a few gummy bears and green M&M's. How else can the birds that bring joy to my morning, the trees that give freshness to my air, and the animals that revel with me in the outdoors be represented? I'm not trying to present some whiny, "save the earth" analogy here. But the community of man must include the land and all its animals, whether smooth-skinned or furry, as members of the brotherhood. People who live in expanding suburbs and dense cities have lost the main components. They believe that the brotherhood is still intact. Sing it, Eddie. We're faithful. We all believe, we all believe it. Stay faithful to that illusion and the reality changes, unnoticed. Our world is a community and we must keep it balanced and healthy. Preserving open space is a method of keeping that balance. Are you a landowner with a desire to permanently save your land and "encourage the entire brotherhood"? There are some land preservation options that you might not know about. And everything is you........me, you....you,me....it's all related.OK, Sorry for the wandering tangent. One thinks about odd things on the road alone. My day ended and I reluctantly bid adieu to Lenawee Mountain and A-Basin. Thanks for a great experience!
See y'all again soon amid the Arches.
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