Greetings of the Season

So how much can you cram into December? Out this way, in Colorado, old Man Winter made his appearance in late summer and at least in the mountains has never let up. The Winter Solstice has only just arrived and I’m already looking forward to Spring which at the rate it’s going won’t get here until July. Usually in Colorado if you don’t like the weather people tell you to wait five minutes and it will change. This year in the High Country it’s more like wait five months.

Now, I’m a newby to Colorado having only been here since 1971 so granted what I know of Colorado weather would fit in a thimble which I guess is what it takes to be a weather prognosticator in these here parts, at least on television. But I’ve got to say I’ve never seen so much snow at our mountain cabin as I have this year. I mean deep - deep enough that I have to shovel to see the top of the chimney. Even my snowblower is booking a flight to Phoenix so I guess when it goes south I’ll have to follow.

I think this is the year of two miraculous events. The widespread adoption of ‘smart’ doorbells that allow you to stare for untold hours watching all the excitement on your front porch. And, seemingly by coincidence, the advent of that urban scourge - the porch pirate. Even though Amazon Prime offers free shipping I guess porch pirates just can’t wait the day or so it takes for the package to arrive so why not head next door and snag that tempting parcel sitting on your neighbor’s front porch. As a bonus you may end up on the local news captured by that ‘smart’ doorbell video. Don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’d be all that entertained getting a ping from my doorbell only to see some fool abscond with all my Christmas Cheer. I will give kudos though to the creativity of the delivery drivers. They’ve found some spots to hide my packages so good even I have trouble finding them.

And how ‘bout a nice impeachment to add some holly to your jolly. It doesn’t matter which side of the issue you’re on but ‘Senate Trial’ just doesn’t have the same holiday ring as say, Chestnuts roasting over an open fire. Or Jack Frost nippin’ at your nose.

Up at the cabin we still have running water despite the snow and the cold. Lots and lots, and lots of running water. All in the form of a split pipe that didn’t want to wait for summer to be free. And good luck finding a plumber. All the Leadville plumbers are working in Eagle and Summit counties fixing the split pipes of those far more affluent than I so we had to coax a pipe fixer from down Buena Vista
way. Ethan, if you're reading this, you’re our Christmas Miracle. God Bless, and enjoy that Mexican vacation we financed for you.

The saying goes “If you’re lucky enough to be in the mountains, you’re lucky enough”. Can’t argue with that. So why not get out and enjoy the snow? If you’re brave enough to venture out on I-70 despite the avalanche and rock mitigation closures come on up! And kids, if by chance Santa and his sleigh are a tad late Christmas morning it’s because their stuck in the abyss just past Floyd Hill. We tried to drive up last Wednesday around noon time and found a nice parking spot along with thousands of other idgits (that’s my technical term for idiots cum laude) who thought that it would be safe to drive into the mountains in the middle of the week on a day with no weather issues. Thank God for CDOT, if it wasn’t for them posting to their website AFTER we were stuck that the highway was now closed and would remain so for hours we would have been clueless. I used to refer to I-70 as ‘Mountain NASCAR’ but the Colorado Highway Patrol nixed that fun by just shutting the whole thing down.

We eventually made it of course after a nice scenic detour by way of Bailey, Fairplay, and Buena Vista.  Fairplay’s grocery store has really grown with the times and is almost worth the long, long trip just to see it. Just sayin’.

Anyway, I hope you and yours are enjoying this time of giving as much as I am. This year its like the Energizer Bunny, it just keeps giving and giving and giving. So Seasons Greetings. As the TV anchor lady succinctly put it, “...whatever you celebrate, celebrate!” Far be it for me to wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or Joyous Kwanzaa so I’ll just say Feliz Navidad, Bon Noel, Shastlivogo Rozhdestva along with something that I think is still politically correct, Happy New Year!

Lest we forget, please remember the reason for the season - it’s to allow your local plumber to spend January basking in the sun on some exotic beach. Ho, Ho, Ho!

Here's a video Christmas Card from our family to yours:

Now this is Christmas Camping!

Once upon a time, if I were to write a blog about camping this time of year, it would feature windswept vistas and campsites nestled in among the snow-dappled peaks.

Not this one. This blog features a more sedate, but perhaps more creative type of camping. I'm referring to Camp Christmas which is a 10,000 sq. ft. extravaganza highlighting Christmas through the ages that takes us on a Holiday journey from ancient Rome all the way up to present day. Created by Lonnie Hanzon in conjunction with the Denver Center for Performing Arts, Camp Christmas is a feast for the senses and is open now through January 5th, 2020 at the Hangar at Stanley Marketplace in Aurora, Colorado.

I took my better half out one morning braving the I-70 traffic (does rush hour in Denver never end?) after reading about Camp Christmas in the Denver Post. The thought was to go at a less-crowded time. Tickets are best purchased online and ahead of time and give you a 15 minute window to arrive and enter. I can imagine Camp Christmas is pretty busy of a late afternoon, evening, or weekend but our 10:30 a.m. timeslot allowed us to wander freely without having to shoulder our way through any crowds. Parking at the Stanley Marketplace can be a challenge so carpooling would be wise.

Camp Christmas is unique and something to see. I'd compare it to 'It's a Small World' at Disneyland but 100% dedicated to my wife's favorite time of year. Mr. Hanzon and team have done a remarkable job of transforming a 'Hangar' into a wintry yuletide wonderland and best of all - it's all indoors! No need to brave the elements at all so I guess Camp Christmas qualifies as 'glamping' in its own way.

Oh, and there's a bar. Well, actually several. The first is the amazing Santa Bar and its something to see. Having Bars is unique in and of itself for such a Christmas event but that's ok because in my humble opinion Camp Christmas is really aimed at us adults. Though it bills itself as family-friendly I think a lot of the nuance and context presented would be over the heads of little children. You definitely won't find your typical Mall Santa Claus set-up at Camp Christmas, which was kind of a nice relief. That said, though he wasn't in attendance while we were there, I understand the jolly old elf does make appearances on Saturdays at select times through December 21st. (more info at the Camp Christmas website). Don't tell anybody but we did sneak a selfie in his sleigh...

Camp Christmas takes you through 13 different Christmas's spanning the ages. Along the way there are activities and Pun-trees that will have your funnybone groaning. You'll probably also learn a lot as you meander your way but don't mistake Camp Christmas as some type of museum exhibit. Mr. Hanzon and team are way too creative for that!

Here's a sneak peek of some of the magic you'll get to see:

Like a kid in a candy store...

Like a kid in a candy store. Literally.

Sometimes on the road that beckons the best things are actually quite close to home. No need to travel thousands of miles to get to one of the sweetest places on earth. I’ll bet a lot of folks who read this blog have made the jaunt up to the Republic of Boulder to visit the Celestial Seasonings Tea Factory. Even more have made the pilgrimage out to Golden (“Where the West Lives!”) to partake in the serious business of brewery (as in Coors) visitation. Now, I’m as big a fan of Sleepytime Tea and Silver Bullets as the next person but if you haven’t been to a certain other factory, right here in Denver, then your Colorado must-sees education is sadly lacking.

Sad to say I didn't qualify as a "candymaker" so I guess

I'll have to just settle for 'candyeater"!

I’ve lived in Denver since 1971 and until last Saturday I too had never made the effort to go see where one of Colorado’s finest chocolatiers and candy makers produces their delicious wares. I speak of the  Hammond’s Candy Factory just off of I-25 and 58th. Since 1920 when Carl Hammond first set up shop they’ve been turning out handmade confections to delight the sweet tooth of folks young and old. And they offer free tours at the end of which they hand out free samples! As my friend Larry would say, “Good times!”. Being a Saturday when we visited there were lots of kids oohing and aahing as the cooks poured tubs of chocolate and molded giant gobs of candy into Candy Canes (‘‘tis the season) of mind-boggling assortments. One of those giant gobs weighs about 70 lbs. and produces  nearly 1,000 Candy Canes. And yes, that curve of the Candy Cane is really done by hand, one at a time.

Did I mention the free samples at the end of the tour? Well, there’s more! They have a really nice, and impressively-stocked gift shop that’s fun to wander around. Seems lots of folks were doing more than just wanderin’ as the lines at the checkouts attested. But who can complain about waiting in line at a candy factory? Not me, and for good reason. I couldn’t have spoken up to complain if I had wanted to as my mouth was kinda full of the aforementioned samples. In today’s world that seems like its fraying at the edges it was very nice to indulge in a little (o.k., a lot) of sweetness made the same way it was almost a century ago.

So, if you and yours are looking for a fun escape from teas and brews, I recommend visiting the Candy Factory hiding in plain site in our own backyard. Who knew?!? Here's a short snapshot of my visit...

 

Let me be the first to say... Ho, Ho, Ho!

So it’s the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the year and I’m here to wish you a Merry Christmas (“Ho, Ho, Ho!”). I’m truly sorry if I’m a little late in sharing Holiday Greetings with you and really have no good excuse other than it is, well, you know, only the eleventh day of the eleventh month.

My beloved wife (I think I can still refer to her as ‘wife’?) took me shoe shopping (for her, not me...) yesterday because her current multitude of footwear was hurting her feet. In fairness to her, she doesn’t really buy that many new shoes at least in part because more shoes might mean we’d need a bigger house but I digress.

The shoe store  she wanted to visit does not have a location within the poor confines of Jefferson County, Colorado so off we went to that wonder that bills itself as a ‘Retail Resort’ (really - the signage outside the men’s room told me so) - Park Meadows Mall. Now, I don’t frequent shopping malls as a regular habit and the only draw of the mall closest to me - Southwest Plaza - is that one of its anchor stores (Sears) is closing just in time for the holiday rush. So you can imagine how in, like, total awe I was when we entered the shopping behemoth that is PMM. I mean, I was, like, literally transported from the doldrums of pre-Thanksgiving November into a winter, and more importantly, Christmas shopping wonderland. The fireplace, that reaches to the sky in the food court, was blazing with gas-fueled fake Yule logs and everywhere there were decorations celebrating the not upcoming but apparently already here Holiday season. The requisite Holiday songs wafted in the background (hey, even I’m a sucker for eight tiny reindeer and elves making toys), the Christmas tree was glorious, and  Santa was already ensconced in his sleigh on the lower level awaiting the (thankfully) not-yet-there hordes of wide eyed youngsters all anxious to get their picture taken with the jolly old elf (picture packages - NO PERSONAL CAMERAS allowed according to the sign - can be yours starting at just $32.99!).

In such a festive environment how could I not have a glorious shopping adventure as I watched the love of my life (is LOML a thing?) try on every variation and every size of every variation of footwear known to man (whoops, strike that...) womankind.

So, you might ask, why this particular store? Well, to make a short story long, my wife attended a conference in the Spring in the Windy City of Chicago and she and a friend in some of their down time did what any self-respecting visitor to that fair city would do - they went shopping. They don’t call it the ‘Miracle Mile’ for nothing. And by chance my wife fell in love with a pair of shoes that, alas, were out of stock. But have no fear, that shoe store, yup you guessed it, has a location at PMM, thus explaining my standing around watching box after box magically appear from the back room. Candidly, I can rarely remember what I had for lunch yesterday, so for my wife to have remembered that Springtime shoe-shopping excursion 1,000 miles from home so many months ago and finally acted on it on the tenth day of the eleventh month truly impressed me.  What impressed my wife even more was that they had all the shoes she wanted in stock and just begging to be given a good home!

Even retail clerks have a sense of humor but the one helping my wife really outdid himself. I mean, I literally burst out laughing. Couldn’t help myself, so sorry to all the ladies who were there looking for the shoes of their dreams. Turns out our bill for this little shopping excursion was  almost $250. That part, at least to my poor, addled, male brain, wasn’t so funny but what was hilarious was when the clerk told my wife that she was almost a quarter of the way to earning a ‘free’ pair of shoes through the store’s loyalty program. Math has never been my strong suit, but I think we can all agree that if, and when, my wife has spent $1,000 on shoes there’d better be a limousine awaiting and bands playing for our next jaunt to PMM to pick up that ‘free’ pair of shoes.  Am I right honey? Honey? Honey dearest...?!?????

Oh, well.  I had a great time celebrating the holidays at PMM so “Ho, Ho, Ho” to you and yours. Now if I can just figure out what I’m going to do in... December....

Chugging

Chugging. For those of a certain age and a certain disposition the term chugging has one connotation. For me, it may be somewhat different when I think of chugging. It brings to mind the smell of wood smoke along with the huff, huff, huff of big wheels turning and clouds of steam escaping into a cool mountain morning.

That’s why, every so often, I get the hankering to seek out transportation powered by the outdated, but still mesmerizing, hissing, grinding, and clanking of a steam locomotive. Living in the modern metropolis that is Denver, Colorado you might wonder where I could get my rail fix. Yeah, Denver’s got Light Rail and a sometime working Train to the Plane, but they can’t compare to the chug, chug, chug that you can feel in your bones when a steam engine gets slowly up to speed. Fortunately, just 40 minutes or so west of the crowded city lies a little town from a bygone age called Georgetown which still harkens proudly to its 1800’s mining roots when picks and shovels and gold and silver were all the rage. And to get all that rich ore down from the mines there were little engines that could winding their way up through forests of Aspen and Pine (at least until they cut all the trees down for building the mines). Today the Georgetown Loop Railroad hauls a treasure of a different kind - tourists who come from all over and can only vaguely imagine what Colorado in the mid-1800’s must have been like. Of course, the guides do their best to share stories of yesteryear about the men and boys who toiled in the many mines that beckoned those seeking their wealth into the bowels of Mother Earth. Most came away with little more than mining-induced lung diseases and a grudging admiration for how hard it is to earn a living doing hard-rock mining.

The railroad must have been a godsend, far better than relying on horse and burro power to haul the tons of ore required to yield ounces of precious metal. Completed in 1884, the Georgetown, Breckenridge, and Leadville Railroad, as it was first known, was considered an engineering marvel of its day. Conditions between Georgetown and Silverplume at the top of the hill were tough enough that the tracks stretched twice as far as the straight line distance between the two mining camps. Built as narrow gauge (the rails are 3 feet apart compared to 4’ 8 1/2” standard gauge) the route features up to 4% grades, horseshoe turns, and four bridges with the Devils Gate High Bridge as the crowning achievement. The line was dismantled in 1939 but was rebuilt in the 1980’s in partnership with History Colorado and today transports tourists along the three miles of operating track and back 129 years.

There is also an optional mine tour into the Lebanon Silver Mine shaft. Don a hard hat and crouch (they were a tad shorter in the old days) as you walk 500 feet underground. The shaft takes you into Republican Mountain. Above you the present day traffic of I-70 flies by with nary a thought of what lies below. We visited in October and the Mine was decked out in its Halloween finery which only detracted a. little from being able to appreciate the real history of the place. The scary skeletons and monsters don’t quite do justice to the more than $3 1/2 billion (in today’s dollars) worth of silver and gold the Lebanon yielded.

Still, if you’re in need of a rail fix, the Georgetown Loop Railroad is not bad and will likely leave you yearning for more. Here’s a short video of what you can expect...

Fall... where did you go?

Fall. I don't know where it went. The calendar may not agree but this year it feels  like what there was to Fall came and went before you could blink. Not that Winter has arrived - Denver and the mountains have barely seen a flurry - so I'm not quite sure what's going on.

I've been busy up in Twin Lakes doing basement work on our cabin. First it was putting up walls, then drywall, and now primer and paint before we put down the floor. Fortunately it's the last major project and we'll be glad when it's finally done. On the bright side it did give me an excuse to be in the High Country during what brief Fall there was and I played hooky enough to get out and capture some of the season in the video below.

Driving up to the mountains last week the Eisenhower Tunnel was closed westbound due to a major accident  on the downhill to Dillon so all westbound traffic was sent up and over 11,990 ft. Loveland Pass. It was an amazing sight to see as Thousands of tail lights snaked up the Pass in slow motion. In recent years I've probably biked Loveland Pass more than I've driven it but it's still a beautiful trip. Except at night creeping along at 5-10 mph.  It did bring back memories from my childhood when there were no tunnels and you had no choice but to head over the high, winding road that is Loveland Pass. I'm dating myself when I say that was when ski lift ticket prices were in single digits and the busiest travel days couldn't cast a shadow to the midweek traffic forced to detour last Wednesday.

Oh well. The Trip was still worth it as I think you'll see in the video. Now if I can only finish the basement before the snow flies.

Transitions and Twofers...

I seem to not have enough time now that I'm retired to do all the things I want to do. I've always had more interests than time and resources allow but I suppose that's better than being bored.

Recently I had the chance to help two dear friends, Tim and Melody, undertake a major life transition consisting of a move from Denver to Seattle, Washington so that they could be closer to their daughter pending the birth of their first grandchild. On a Wednesday afternoon, after the moving truck had departed, we hit the road out of town driving two cars. Of course, the first major challenge was simply getting out of Denver during rush hour, but Tim assured me that all would be well as Denver traffic was nothing compared to what we would experience in Seattle. Sure, I thought to myself, how could anything be worse than Denver at the height of rush (maybe they need to rename it to slow) hour. Three days later I'd be acknowledging that Tim was right - Seattle traffic, if it's possible, is worse than Denver's.

Heading north on I-25 we eventually made it to Fort Collins where we took the shortcut to Laramie, Wyoming. Thankfully, not everyone in Colorado was headed to the Cowboy State so traffic finally lightened enough to start enjoying the ride. From Laramie we then turned west on I-80 and headed towards Rawlins, home to about 9,000 brave souls and named after General John Rawlins who, in 1867, was in command of troops protecting the crew surveying the route for the first trans-continental railroad. Seems he was thirsty and found a spring in the area where he claimed he had the most refreshing drink he had ever tasted. Naturally they immediately named the place Rawlins Springs.

There are some really big trees, and big leaves

in the Pacific Northwest!

Next morning we were up not too early and set off towards Boise, Idaho with the road taking us through Wyoming and into Utah where we saw the Great Salt Lake before entering the Spud State (Idaho is the top contributor to the U.S. potato harvest contributing almost a third of all potatoes grown in the U.S.). From Boise, it was one more day's drive to Seattle before I got the chance to experience what REAL traffic is like.

Tim and Melody were gracious enough to make sure it wasn't all work and no play so we stopped at beautiful Snoqualmie Falls on the way into town and then the next day they took me on a whirlwind tour of some of Seattle's major sights. Here's the video of some of what we saw:

Oh, and as the title of this blogs mentions, it's twofers! I finally had enough time to finish the video from our summer trip to Michigan and this one features our jaunt to Mackinac Island and then to Sault Ste. Marie for a tour of the Soo Locks. Here's that video:

I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Melody and Tim for letting me tag along on their excursion and I wish them happiness as they settle in to their new Seattle digs!

From the outside looking in...

Sometimes I think too much. One of the blessings of retirement is having the time to ponder. If you're like me, when I was working, you're probably so busy doing your job that you have little, if any, time to think much beyond the next task, the next meeting, the next deadline. Much of American business, and much of the American workforce, has fallen into the trap of paying workers to do, not think. That doesn't bode well for the future especially as computers and machines take over much of what we do at work and it seems it won't be too long before artificial intelligence reaches a point where computers will be able to out think us as well.

I'm also a news junkie. Not to the point where I have a news program playing in the background all day long but certainly to the point that if I don't know what's going on in the broader world I feel incomplete. I'm also way too curious about almost anything, which sometimes drove my supervisors crazy. For me, even when I was working, it wasn't a question of thinking outside the box - there simply was no box to begin with.

This year's ride started and finished in Lamar

with overnight stops in Holly and Springfield

All of this is a long preamble to something as simple as my most recent bicycle tour which happened to take us to a part of Colorado that I've never spent much time in, or to the point of this blog, thought about. Each year the Denver Post (you know - Denver's only remaining newspaper) hosts a three day bike tour in celebration of a part of Colorado that doesn't otherwise get much thought from those of us along the 'urban corridor' from Colorado Springs to Fort Collins. Aptly called "Pedal The Plains" its a chance to experience the heat, wind, and broad expanse of prairie that still make up the eastern third of Colorado. Oh, and also mingle with folks who more and more seem to be like we used to be but are now seemingly more distant in time, space, and life experience. More than one visitor to these parts makes the comment that they feel they are in another State, and for those of us from the Denver metropolis we might as well be. Some politicians still try to rally support on the belief that there is more that unites us than divides, but having done several of these rides over the last several years I can speak to the divide getting wider, not smaller as the years pass like the tumbleweeds blowing along the lonely byways of the eastern plains.

Former Governor Hickenlooper made a point to mosey out to the starting town of Pedal The Plains each year and to his credit new Governor Polis was at the start of this year's ride in Lamar. Of course, for them its  a chance to make an appearance, hobnob with the local politicians, and demonstrate that, at least for one day, people from Denver actually care about what's going on out here. Don't think the divide is getting wider? Just a block from where Mr. Polis was preaching to a lycra-clad cycling choir, there were 'Recall Polis' yard signs aplenty and you had to wonder how warm a welcome the duly-elected current guv was getting from the good folks of Lamar.

Not that most of the roads featured much traffic, but it was

nice to be supported by Colorado's Finest

Now, make no mistake, Pedal The Plains is a good time for those inclined to spend hour after hour sitting on a narrow piece of leather pedaling furiously into 90 degree temps and 20 mph headwinds. And this year's ride featured the unique chance to actually ride into Kansas (if you haven't left Denver for points east recently it's the next State over, or as the weatherlady points out, where the Colorado storms head after wreaking havoc in your front-range back yard).

Most of the Pedal The Plains rides feature educational rest stops where us city folks get to mingle with real-life farmers, the people actually responsible for filling the shelves at our local Safeway or King Soopers. I've had the chance to sit in giant combines and talk to kids who have helped birth a calf. This year there didn't seem as much of this as in prior years, perhaps because conditions were such that we cyclists were just trying to survive to the next rest area. But it could also be that the schism between urban and rural Colorado has reached a point where the two sides might grudgingly acknowledge each other, but that's as far as it really goes. Even the educational signage along the route touting all sorts of agricultural facts and figures seemed to be just a token gesture as they bent before the stiff headwinds to the point most couldn't even be read as they bent and flapped in the breeze.

It's no secret that the economic revival has benefited urban dwellers more than rural and the communities we pedaled through, though not as desperate as during the Great Recession (seems a distant memory, doesn't it?) but the main streets still have more vacant space than full, and there's an air of just hanging on that was almost palpable. Many of the locals we spoke to didn't even realize that Pedal The Plains was in town, even though for some of these towns we almost doubled the population, at least for a day. That too was different than in prior Plains rides we've been on, where locals were truly glad to welcome us, to talk, to remember, oh yeah, what connects us.

Still, we left having had a good pedal-about. We gamely battled the elements and made it over roads and hills (yes, they have hills out this way) that seemed to vanish into a shimmer on the horizon. For three days we immersed ourselves in 6 a.m. starts, nightlong rumbling of passing freight trains, showering in a mobile shower truck (with hot water!), and being unable to put on enough sunscreen  to stop from burning like the chile peppers being roasted along the road. All in all, a good time. One that I'll be pondering, for better or ill, for some time to come. Like I said, sometimes I think too much.

Connections...

I just put up a video on our bicycle tour

 in Michigan. Michigan came as a pleasant surprise since we had not really ever been there and it seems that southern Michigan (Detroit, Flint, etc.) seem to get all of the attention. Northern Michigan and the upper penninsula would definitely rate a return visit in our book.

A couple of years ago I had blogged about our trip to Alaska via the Alaska Highway. The route north from Denver takes you almost straight up the Rockies to Banff and then on through Jasper, Canada. Both of these towns are some of my favorite places to visit. A recent article (8/18/19) in the Denver Post brought back memories of that trip. When in Banff we had camped in their campground and one night we had a special visitor. My wife and I, along with our two

Siberian Huskies Bentley and Yukon, were all fast asleep when from right outside our camper a wolf howl erupted. I and my dogs were instantly awake. Normally any nocturnal activity outside the tent gets the full attention of our pups but that night they simply sat bolt upright, ears and noses on full alert. Usually they would start barking but that night they were absolutely quiet. I honestly believe they recognized the presence of their cousin Canus Lupus just a few feet away separated by just a few millimeters of tent fabric. So too do I believe that the wolf was very much aware of our two canine companions but from his or her perspective probably didn't consider them more than a potential snack. I've seen other wolves in the wild but have never been so close to one as on that night. It was truly a special treat that I'll never forget.

The Post article details a more disturbing account of a wolf, apparently nearing the end of its life and in poor condition, attacking a family from New Jersey in the middle of the night in the same campground complex in which we had stayed. Fortunately the husband, with help from another camper, was able to finally drive off the wolf but not before suffering some serious injury. Now, wolf attacks on humans are exceedingly rare and after capturing and killing the wolf it appears it's actions were driven by starvation. After reading the article I immediately wondered if by any chance it could have been the same wolf that ghosted through the campground when we were there. As sorry as I was to hear of the injuries to the camper that nocturnal interaction of several years back with one of nature's most majestic creatures is one I will treasure as long as I live.

It's a sh*tty job but someone has do do it....

Horses, Bicycles, or your own

two feet are the only way to get

around Mackinac Island

What would you rather have - a truly sh*tty job in paradise or a great job somewhere else? Well, there are some special folks we came across after our Michigan bike tour that had definitely made their choice. And who am I to argue with them?

Mackinac (pronounced Mackinaw) Island sits several miles north of the northern tip of lower Michigan. Mackinaw City is the gateway to both Mackinac Island as well as Michigan's Upper Peninsula region and its from there that you catch a ferry to the island as there is no bridge and short of having your own boat that's the only way to get there. The island is approximately 8.2 miles in circumference and a couple of hundred folks call the island home yearlong (the Island school system boasts about 80 students). During the summer however the island hosts thousands of tourists who flock there for its beautiful harbor, spectacular homes and churches, as well as a small downtown (just a couple of blocks) full of shops that will happily sell you just about any touristy trinket you can imagine. Oh, and fudge - lots and lots and lots of fudge, Really, really good fudge. But I digress...

Pick your steed: two-wheeled or four footed!

The thing that sets Mackinac Island apart from many other islands like it is that the only way to get around once there is by your own two feet, by bicycle, or by horse. No - and I mean NO - motorized transportation is allowed on the island. Getting off the ferry (we caught the early-bird first ferry of the day that left Mackinaw City at 7:30 sharp and put us on the island by 8) two things immediately grab your attention. Row upon row upon row of rental bicycles of all kinds just waiting for folks who probably haven't sat on a bike seat in years who can't wait to plunk down $16 per hour for the privilege of subjecting their nether regions to unfamiliar torment as they ride about the island.

The second thing that grabs your attention are the horses. They are everywhere. Pulling carriages, pulling wagons laden with luggage (you can spend the night on the island at some truly spectacular hotels, inns, and bed and breakfasts), pulling freight to supply all the fine food and beverage establishments. UPS? FedX? Yup, all delivered behind a horse. The U.S. Mail? That too is handled by a horse-drawn mail wagon. There are some 300+ horses on the island to accommodate all this heavy pulling and they have the right of way over everything. If you're a pedestrian or on a bike woe to you for getting in the way of all this equine grandeur. And grand these horses are. Most are Percherons which make Clydesdales look like undernourished cousins. They are massive, and can haul loads of 3 to 6 thousand pounds each (apparently Clydesdales, of Budweiser fame, can only pull about 1,000 pounds each) which means two or three hitched together can easily handle the wagon loads of tourists meandering over hill and dale. There are also Friesians, Hackney, Welsh Cob, and Standard bred for pulling some of the smaller 2 and 4 passenger carriages around town.

Getting up close with Jenny and Martin

during a horse-drawn tour

So back to my original question regarding sh*tty jobs in paradise. You may be catching on by now to where this is going but if not, here's a hint - what by-product do 300+ horses produce? Yup, and lots of it. I mentioned horses were the second thing to grab your attention. Well, perhaps the third thing is the pungent aroma of their droppings on all the roads. Now, if you're looking for a summer job on the island there are lots to choose from - bike attendants, waiters/waitresses, shop staff, even people to drive all the horse wagons and carriages (known on the island as drayers). But perhaps the single most important, yet most under appreciated job on Mackinac Island falls to those brave souls who diligently wander behind all these horses, brooms in hand, sweeping up what Mother Nature has left behind. These are the unsung heroes of Mackinac Island. It is they who truly have the sh*ttiest job in paradise yet they don't seem to mind and never a complaint did we hear as they went about swoosh, swoosh, swooshing their way along the thoroughfares. I don't know where they fall on the island's pay scale, but it can't be enough.

Jenny and Martin mean business as they trot

down Main Street, Mackinac Island

So, if you're in the area, Mackinac Island is a beautiful and special oasis unlike most of the tourist traps more typical of summer fare. Bring your own or rent and ride a bike along the 8.2 mile perimeter road. Take a horse-drawn tour to see and hear about all the must-see sites. Spend a night in the Grand Hotel if your pocketbook allows (ours didn't - rooms start at around $890 a night). But whatever you do watch where you step. As the islanders say, every visitor to Mackinac Island goes home with a free souvenir, and its right there on the bottom of your shoes!

A VIP carriage: I think this is how all that delicious fudge is delivered -

Very Important Product

Oh, and by the way, if you're on Instagram feel free to check out some more images of Mackinac Island and the rest of the trip at David Mabry.

Pedaling merrily to and fro...

Ok; I've been remiss about posting during the actual ride so I'm playing a little catch-up. Normally I use my Samsung phone to blog during events like the Shoreline West Bicycle Tour but for the life of me I couldn't keep the phone charged long enough in the evenings after riding all day to write anything down. And that's apart from simply being a wee bit tired after pedaling 50+ miles a day for 6 days (there was a rest day in the middle, thank you God).

Cyclists luggage is loaded to be shuttled to the

start in Montague

Suffice it to say that I was very impressed with this ride, from the route, to the friendliness of all the people - riders and staff alike, to the catered meals (breakfast and dinner), to the gorgeous weather we had during the daytime. We did have a downpour one evening when the weather looked threatening enough they were thinking of evacuating us inside, and some light sprinkles some other nights but the days were sunny and warm (but not too hot) and the feared Midwest humidity never was that oppressive (thank you God). We did manage to get lost by missing some poorly marked/signed turns but by day two they had corrected that minor oversight and we could focus on admiring the beautiful scenery as we rode miles through tree-lined glades and along sun-dappled lakeshore.

The mighty Mackinac Bridge that connects Mackinaw City

to Michigan's Upper Penninsula

This part of Michigan, which I had never been to before, is where Midwesterners come to vacation and after seeing and experiencing it I can understand why. The roads we pedaled on were for the most part lightly traveled, and the terrain, though not flat, certainly didn't feature any of the vertical challenges that our home State of Colorado offers. Some hills were quite steep (12-25% grades) but were never too long, and one even offered a watermelon stop three-quarters of the way up.

The towns we rode through, as well as the towns where we spent the night, were beautiful with lots of spectacular vacation homes (mansions) along the way to gawk at. In the early 1900's the wealthy industrialists from Detroit and Chicago would make their way out of the crowded and sweltering cities to the cooler climes farther north where they spent some of their prodigious wealth on stunning

The Mushroom Houses are a site to see in the

lakeshore town of Charlevoix

abodes along the lakeshore. The Great Lakes ameliorate the temperature since their water is in the 60 degree range so it was always very comfortable riding near the water. Go inland a couple of miles though and the temps would dramatically rise and you'd find yourself sweating like you were riding the Tour De France.

As I mentioned, the people on the ride were very friendly and it seemed that many, if not most, had done the ride before. Some have been doing it for years and they profess to not tiring of it quite yet. Several other folks from Colorado had made the long jaunt to do the ride but the vast majority hailed from closer parts, primarily Michigan, Illinois, and Ohio. And of course, being this close to our Northern border, there was the occasional Canadian thrown in for good measure, eh.

Not the first choice for bike touring

but a beautiful ride nonetheless

All had a love of cycling, most were on road bikes but there were a fair share of tandems, recumbents, and trikes. We were on our Longbike recumbent tandem, and while we were tired by day's end we never experienced the sore hands and sore butts of those opting for more standard bikes.

Meals were catered morning and night and while there was the expected meat and potato offerings (this being the Midwest) they also made a solid effort to offer vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free options that were actually very tasty. This is the first ride I've been on where 'vegetarian' means more than lettuce and fruit. Let me tell you, you haven't seen hangry until you've tried to ride 70 miles on just lettuce and fruit! Lunches were on our own and were usually eaten while out on the ride at restaurants along the way. Here too there was a surprisingly good offering of non-meat fare for those so inclined.

Tent Cities sprout each night along the route

Nights were spent at schools in the towns and everyone was in a tent on this ride. For those familiar with events like Ride the Rockies you know that those rides offer not just tent camping but camping inside gymnasiums and hotels as well. The grass was lush so sleeping on the 'hard' ground was never better and the cool, quiet nights in these mostly small towns made for restful slumber and happy dreams.

Since the ride was along the western shore of Lake Michigan there were also beautiful lighthouses dotted along the coast. Most of these date to the late 1800's to early 1900's and since modern navigational methods have improved few are actually still relied upon by intrepid Captains out on the water. So they stand as silent sentinels of bygone times that were simpler but far more dangerous for those brave enough to venture out onto the lake. Lake Michigan is huge and for much of our ride North we could not see the other side and the mighty ships out on the lake often appeared as tiny dots on the horizon unless they were passing close to shore. As with all of the Great Lakes,

One of the many wonderful

lighthouses that dot the shore

Lake Michigan has seen its share of maritime disasters and there are maps in the giftshops detailing the hundreds of ships and thousands of lives lost to the cold waters that can turn suddenly violent when the storm winds start to blow. If you've heard the ballad "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot coming and seeing the actual lake puts the song into perspective. These freighters are huge - anywhere from 700 to 1,000 feet in length - and to think that lake waves can be created in storms that can send them to the bottom paints a picture of Nature's power when she has a mind to wreak havoc. Fortunately for our journey we witnessed no major storms over the water but after the ride's end we did venture to Whitefish Bay where the Edmund Fitzgerald would have found safety if she had been able to sail only a few miles more.

As the ride came to an end we opted to stay a couple of extra days and visit some of the sites around Mackinaw City and Mackinac Island. We also took a daytrip to Saute Ste. Marie to tour the locks that allow those massive freighters to transit from Lake Superior into Lake Huron and beyond. The tour boat actually takes you through the same locks and is well worth the time if you're in the area. Its

A freighter heads into the locks at 

Saute Ste. Marie

something to see as these massive freighters slide into the lock and are then lowered (or raised, depending on their direction of travel) 21 feet to meet up with the level of the other lake.

All in all a pretty amazing trip in that it came as a surprise to my wife and I. We were not sure what to expect, not having been to this part of the country before, but came away thinking it won't be our last trip to this spectacular region. Of course if you're from Michigan or consider yourself a 'yooper' (someone from the Upper Penninsula) that comes as no surprise to you!

29 and counting...

Today was the first riding day of the Shoreline West bike tour in Michigan. Yesterday they shuttled us by bus from the finish line in Mackinaw City to the starting point of Montague (pronounced "mont-a-goo") from which we set forth in an early morning fog literally at the crack of dawn. From Montague it was 61 scenic miles mostly paralleling the shoreline (hence the name of the tour) of Lake Michigan.

The bike truck broke down on the way to the starting point so the lucky crew had to unload hundreds of bikes from the broken down truck and reload them into the replacement all while anxious bike parents awaited word of the fate of their steeds. Finally, after dinner and the pre-ride meeting, at around 7 o'clock, the bikes finally joined up with their riders and a potential biketastrophy was narrowly avoided.

My wife of twentynine years and I spent our anniversary pedaling and sweating in the Midwest heat and humidity. Riding a tandem with your significant other can be a recipe for marital disaster so kudos to my beloved for putting up with me both on the bike as well as in life all these years. It's been, literally and figuratively, an exciting ride!

Here in Michigan the sweet cherries are being harvested and along the ride you can stop and sample all sorts of Cherry delights. They're all delicious, and so long as you don't overindulge (like that EVER happens) cycling is a great way to burn off those excess calories. Yum!

Tomorrow the ride continues with the first serious hills featuring climbs in the 5-12% grade range. The hills may not be anywhere near as long as riding Colorado's infamous mountain passes but what they lack in length they make up in steepness. In cycling parlance, Granny (as in granny gears) is going to get a workout. 64 miles up the coast is where we'll pitch our tent tomorrow.

Sunset this far north is around 9-9:30 p.m. but on a bike tour most folks are counting sheep in their tents long before old Sol does her nightly disappearing act. So as the sun dips towards the western horizon I'll sign off for now and bid you a goodnight from Ludington, Michigan. For my wife Sophie and I tomorrow will be 29 years and a day. Here's to the next 29!

That road just keeps beckoning...

"Omaha! Omaha!" No, this is not a Payton Manning commercial but we did spend our first night back on the road in that illustrious town. The next night saw us roll into Madison, Wisconsin and tonight I'm writing this in Mackinaw City, Michigan after making our way over the 4 mile span known as the Mackinac Bridge.

We're here to ride the 'Westshore Lake Michigan bike tour' that will take us from Montague, Michigan some 400 meandering miles up the coast of this third largest Great Lake back to Mackinaw City. Tomorrow is shuttle day where they drive us and our bike to the starting point. 400 miles over 6 riding days is not overly ambitious (we hope!) but having done a similar ride several years ago through Wisconsin's Door County we know to expect a lot of rolling terrain (AKA hills) as you go over hill and Dale from one quaint lakeside town to the next.

It was a hot drive until we reached the road that takes you along the top of Lake Michigan where the lake breeze dropped the temps a good 10+ degrees. We're hoping the nice weather lasts for the next week or so as this is country neither I or my better half have seen before.

Three days in the car hasn't helped our legs so we're anxious to get going!

More from the road!

A sizzling 4th...

The mountains are finally thawing and, dare I say it, warm weather may be on its way. Still getting into the 30's at night but its been a little  more than a week with no snow flakes which is a good sign given that tomorrow is the 4th of July. Mr. Trump may have spent millions of taxpayer dollars on his  July 4th extravaganza but I'll take the high altitude fireworks show that the little town of Leadville puts on framed with a beautiful mountain backdrop of snow-capped peaks. Mt. Massive and Elbert usually look a little brown by July but not this year. Still lots and lots of snow to melt. The Arkansas River, which has its headwaters in these parts, is meandering all over the valley floor and sections of river are still closed or only for expert paddlers. As was expected with the high, and fast flowing, waters has come some loss of life, with another stand-up-paddler drowning at the Buena Vista waterpark just this week. These Rocky Mountains demand respect no matter how much we pave them or try to tame them. Winter or Summer makes no difference.

I had the opportunity to hike a new avalanche shoot south of Fremont Pass and took some footage that shows some of the raw power that famed Colorado powder can generate. Trees scattered like toothpicks burying tons of snow that may last the summer - that's the aftermath of these Winter slides. It feels a little spooky wandering up the path of destruction, but its really something to see. The worry of course is what will happen next Winter now that these new paths have no standing trees left to hold the snowpack. Back in January, February, and March these new chutes were closing highways across Colorado and CDOT (Colorado Department of Highways Filled to Capacity) was begging people to stay out of the mountains. Heck, even ski areas were closing at times because of too much snow and the risk of in-bounds avalanches. That hardly ever happens in Colorado.

But all that is past us and we can luxuriate in the warmth of the summer sun (for the mountains that means temps in the 70's). And in case you get too warm, you can jump in Twin Lakes where I was SUP'ing the other day. The water temps there are in the high 40's and low 50's. Who needs air conditioning?

Have a wonderful, and safe, 4th of July!

Who'd have thought?

"You'll see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico..." What famous song has those lyrics? Those of a certain generation will readily recognize the song made famous by a young Nat King Cole when motoring out to the west coast was all the rage as airline travel as we know it today was still but a dream.

The stretch of highway, once known as the 'Main Street of America', made famous in the song has seen its best days come and go and a lot of sections are looking more than a little forlorn. Towns lucky enough to be located along the highway saw boom times that have now faded in the glimmer of times long gone. From 1926 up through the '50's and '60's generation after generation of Americans heading out to explore the U.S. of A traveled the route that was the first completely paved highway in the U.S. Highway system.

My recent travels took me through Gallup, New Mexico. Normally I just spend the night in Gallup on my way to and from Spring Training Baseball in Arizona but this trip I had the chance to spend a couple of days in the area and got the opportunity to check out some of the local hikes. I never knew Gallup offered such great venues for stretching out the legs and wearing out shoe leather. One of the hikes, up Pyramid Peak just outside of town, is featured in the video below. Most folks stopping in Gallup quickly get back on the Highway (now I-40) and head on their way so the trails are almost empty which is a rare treat in today's busy world. They are also well-marked and well maintained. One of the things I most longed for when I dreamt of retirement was having the time to slow down and stop wherever I wanted and Gallup is one of the places where if you stop and stay a while you might really like what you see!

Still can't place the song mentioned at the beginning? It was written by Bobby Troup when he and his wife Cynthia loaded up their 1941 Buick and took the ten day trip out to California where he wanted to try his hand at becoming a Hollywood songwriter. Here's Bobby performing his song... Nat King Cole recorded his version, which went on to top the charts, in 1946. Here's his take...

Where Goblins Abound

Okay, Goblin Valley State Park May not really be the spookiest place in Utah but it’s still a must see for anyone remotely close to the area. Located off of I-70 between Green River and Hanksville, Utah,  Goblin is a gem of a State Park. A lot of folks intent on bagging Utah’s share of National Parks overlook the Utah State Parks to their detriment. Goblin offers features not found in most National Parks and the Park offers hiking access that allows the visitor to get up and close with the Park’s namesake features that would be frowned upon in our national treasures (beware though, there is a study ongoing at Goblin measuring the impact of visitors that might in the future limit access so get there while you can!).

Goblin, as well as other Utah Parks, has also not outright banned the use of aerial drones though as of this May (2019) they are using a fee permit system to track drones flying within the Park boundaries. When I first went to Goblin several years ago I had been pleasantly surprised to find the Park allowed drone photography, so I give kudos to the Utah Parks administrators for taking a measured approach in instituting the permit policy rather than an outright ban. And yes, the Park Rangers do make sure you have the permit as you actually fly and film within the Park. 

I’m conscious of the fact that many folks don’t appreciate the sight and sound of a drone buzzing overhead as they sojourn with Nature so I kept my flying to very early morning and dusk unless there was no one around. I also made the effort to hike far enough into the Park to avoid most people before putting my DJI Mavic Pro into the air. Of course, if you’re a photographer, you know that very early morning and dusk, or the period known as golden hours, are the best time for pictures. The few people who actually saw my drone in the air were mostly more curious than bothered and I made a point of showing them the footage I was taking which elicited ooh’s and aah’s more than complaints.

Goblin offers a small campground with no electrical or other hookups though water is available at taps. Flush toilets and hot showers are available. Due to its small the size the campground fills up quickly and reservations for sites often need to be made months in advance.

At night the Park turns into a Stargazers delight as no towns are close by and the Park lighting is intentionally kept to a minimum. My wife’s camera doesn’t do night photography all that well but in the video below the one night sky shot at the end was taken at Goblin around 2 o’clock in the morning as the full moon was just rising over the eastern horizon (it took probably 30+ exposures playing with the manual settings to finally get this one image). 

Hiking at Goblin is almost infinite as you wander all the nooks and crannys. There are steps leading down from the parking lot that sits on a bluff overlooking the valley of Goblins. Once down you can make the hike as easy or as strenuous as you wish. As I mentioned above, the farther you hike the more what crowds there are diminish and before you know it you’re the only one out there which to me is pure nirvana. The surface can get a little slippery, if not downright muddy, if it rains so it behooves the savvy hiker to keep a weather eye out for clouds moving in.

There is also mountain biking allowed on the designated trails on the Mesa above the campground. The next canyon to the west of the Park boundary also allows unlimited mountain biking opportunities but you’ll likely share the trails with OHV’s. As with the Park, the farther you go the more serenity you’ll find. This would also be a great place for bike-packing and camping.

I’ve been to Goblin in September on my first trip and now in May so avoided the summer heat. Still, we had plenty of water on our hikes and bikes and given that it is in fact a desert climate I’d watch the time of day for my hikes if I was there in the summer.

I could go on and on about the wonders of Goblin Valley State Park but suffice it to say that it’s a must see. As glorious as the National Parks are in Utah, you’ll be sorry if you pass that special place by! Hope you enjoy my short video tour:

For more of Goblin here's video from my first trip as well as what its like to mountain bike in the area... If these three video snapshots cant entice you to get out to Goblin, I don't know what to do!

Dead Horse Point, truly a sight to see...

The area surrounding Moab is chock full of things to see and do. From biking and hiking to off road jeeping and rafting it would take more than a single lifetime to do it all. Since life is short, the trick is to simply do as much as you can while you're visiting this rock we call Earth.

Yukon takes in the view

I think I may have been out to Dead Horse Point many years ago when Moab was still a sleepy, yet to be discovered, backwater town. While the town has undergone its fair share of change in the intervening years the spectacular vistas remain as breathtaking as the first time I saw them. In my last blog I had promised a short video featuring Dead Horse Point so here it is. Much of Utah, for better or worse depending on your perspective, remains a cell service/Wi-Fi desert so finding a place to load video has been tough.

Dead Horse Point is a high mesa and features a narrow outcropping where cowboys used to trap wild horses. Apparently they had some horses corralled and left them behind for some unknown reason. The name, Dead Horse Point, tells the rest of the story. Today there is a nice Visitors Center, two very nice campgrounds, and a network of hiking and mountain biking trails that meander the canyon rims taking you from one jaw-dropping vista to the next. As is typical in many places, early morning and early evening are perhaps the best times to take in the grandeur but really any time of day is fine. The Desert changes with the shifting light and clouds so nothing ever seems to look the same twice.

I'm not going to lie, when we were there it was still getting downright cold at night and we had a fair amount of rain, sometimes heavy. Such is the price of admission to some wonderful places. If you're like me and believe a cold, wet day in nature beats a warm, dry day in the office you would have loved the conditions. Not so much my darling wife, but that's another story...

On the road again...

I couldn't wait to get back on the road again and here I am sitting in a campsite at Escalante Petrified Forest State Park overlooking a beautiful lake in actual sunshine and WARMTH.

My sweetheart and I, plus two overly furry Suburban Huskies, left Denver about a week ago heading west through yet another Spring snowstorm in the Colorado High Country. Will I ever get tired of driving Vail Pass through the blinding white stuff? What could make it more fun than that... Well,  just for grins, how about we throw in a 26 foot camping trailer behind the truck that we're taking out for the first time? Creeping down the west side of Vail Pass in a snowstorm is a great place to see if the trailer brakes really work.

Those that know me would have sworn I'd never be caught dead in an RV as I've always been more of a tent-sleep-on-the-ground kind of guy. I guess the die was cast when we got a Sylvan GO tent camper, albeit at my better half's insistence, when we went to Alaska a couple of years ago (see some of my prior blogs about the travails of THAT trip) to accomodate all the cold and rain that the Yukon and Alaska could muster (and it was a lot). So yeah, I've become a cream puff in my golden years.

Fortunately we slid through Vail unscathed and the good news? That white stuff wimped out and turned into just pounding rain that would follow us off and on for oh, the last seven days. We did survive Glenwood Canyon without the now required rockfall road closure and Grand Junction actually graced us with a teasing touch of blue skies.

Crossing the line into Utah we took the back road from Cisco down into Moab where we stocked up on supplies (is there a nicer City Market in the whole wide world than the one in Moab?) before heading to our stop for a couple of nights at Dead

Horse Point State Park. I'll be putting up some video in a couple of days, but if you've been, you know what a pretty place that is.

From Dead Horse our next stop was Goblin State Park which I think is one of the best places to see this side west of the... Atlantic. Yesterday was a travel day, thankfully in nicer weather, taking us through Capitol Reef National Park and the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument before reaching our current abode. A special Thank You to our President and Congress for keeping the government open so we could get a glimpse of OUR national lands.

Weather forecast for Escalante Petrified Forest State Park is partly cloudy with temps in the 60's. I don't think we'll ever see the 70's this summer, but compared to Vail Pass in a blizzard, we'll take it!

Yukon admires the view
at Dead Horse S.P.