Then and now...

Help is just a call away in
Victor, Colorado

On our recent trip to the Manitou Springs area we took a side jaunt up Highway 24 through Woodland Park and then up the back road to Cripple Creek and Victor. Haven't been up that way since I was a lad of fourteen or fifteen which puts it way, way back in time even before legalized gambling took over both towns as a supposed economic panacea for towns that saw their life's blood - the mines - dry up. 1991 was the year gambling became legal and sadly it does not appear to have brought boom times to either town. I know we're just coming out of a pandemic so its hard to know what the future will hold . I hope Colorado and out-of-state tourists alike rediscover this neck of the woods not so much because I'm a gambling fan but because its a beautiful area of the state with such a rich (literally!) heritage it would be a shame to see these towns turn to dust.

$11 billion came out...
Where did it all go?

The area is of course rich in western history. Before 1890 the history was largely focused on the Ute Indians but when Bob Womack finally found gold in, appropriately enough, Poverty Gulch, the rush was on. From 1890 through 1910 the area was known as the "World's Greatest Gold Camp" with more than 500 mines operating in the Cripple Creek/Victor region. Who's to argue as more than 22 million ounces of gold was pulled from the ground. That's worth, in today's dollars, about $11.2 billion. A tidy sum in almost anybody's book.

Note the credit to
"Women in Mining"

While the casinos that are still operating focus on pulling folk's hard-earned cash out of their pockets, I spent my time looking backward. There is still gold mining going on (the proprietor at what seemed to be the only gift shop in Cripple Creek told us the big Newmont mine on the hill is yielding about a $million a day) but I was curious to visit some of the relics of yesteryear. Driving over toward Victor we stumbled on the Trails of Gold, a series of walking trails that take you through some of the old mining district. Its not too steep a trail (like the Manitou Incline, but that's a story for another blog) but you might feel the altitude a tad if you're a humble mortal like me. Still, it's worth the effort and they've done a nice job with the trails, the signage, and the old mine structures. Here's a short video of some of the highlights captured on a cool day when those infamous Colorado thunderstorms were threatening to recreate Noah's flood. Thank goodness the rain held off until we were nearly back to the car but the dark skies only added to the allure of these relics of days gone by. 

So if you're ever in the area take the turn out of Divide, Colorado onto State Highway 67. The drive alone is worth it, and if you want to part with some of your cash in the Gambling Halls I guess that's fine too. But if you're like me, don't miss the chance to get out and stretch the legs on one of the Trails of Gold. Memories is what you'll find which just might make your day...

A Colorado must-see...

There are a few (actually its a pretty long list...) must-see/do things  if you’re lucky enough to spend any amount of time in Colorado. One of those just reopened, though three years ago we were wondering if it was gone forever. I’m talking about the Manitou and Pikes Peak Cog Railway which just started operating on May 21st after a three year hiatus.

Now, after a complete rebuild,  this Colorado treasure is back hauling passengers from its depot in Manitou Springs to the top of Pikes Peak in the type of comfort one might expect from the company that owns and operates it, the Broadmoor. 

The railway began in 1889 with the first train reaching the 14,115’ summit in June 1891. For those not familiar with trains, a cog railway adds a third toothed rack rail that allows the train to climb grades in excess of 10 percent, steeper than normal trains could dream of tackling. And there are some steep climbs on the hour and ten minute journey to the summit so you likely won’t be tempted to hop off and jog alongside the train as it huffs and puffs upward at a steady 8 mph. 

My wife and I rode the train this last Monday. I had booked seats as soon as I was able as I knew this would be a very popular excursion for Coloradans as well as tourists from around the world. Trains run every 40 minutes and our 9:20 a.m. train was completely full as were the other trains we passed during our trip. 

There is still snow on top but it won’t last too much longer. The old visitors center is being demolished and replaced by a new one. Change is good and I’m sure the old one was past it’s prime but having been to the summit three times now (twice by train, once driving up on the 19 mile road) since the 1970’s I’m sorry to see the old building go. Of course the new visitors center, set to open in a month or so, gives me the perfect excuse to make at least one more trip to the top in the future.

Not that you need a gleaming steel and glass building - all the views are outside and the 360 degree panorama on a clear and sunny Colorado day is spectacular and the main reason so many people set their sights on getting to the top of our State’s fifty four fourteeners. Just bring a jacket - the temp when we left the depot in Manitou Springs was a balmy 80 degrees but at the summit it was in the low forties and the wind chill was in the thirties.

There is not a bad seat on the train (seats are reserved when you buy tickets) but the best seats, if you can get them, are the three seats at the front or back of the train adjacent to the engineer as he or she drives the train. We were in the front seats going up (as you’ll see in the video below) but since the train simply backs down on the return trip the folks at the ‘back’ of the train got the best view going down. Either way, just make plans to get on board at some point, sooner rather than later, as this is one special trip. As they say in the train business - “All Aboard!”

What do you want to be when you grow up?

What do you want to be when you grow up?  That age old question seems appropriate right about now. A new crop of high school and college graduates are about to leave one world behind and enter another. It would appear to be a good year to enter the job market now that the pandemic, or at least the deaths and hospitalizations, is on the wane. This morning’s job report said 500,000 plus Americans were recently hired which bodes well for all the young folks anxious to get out there and test their skills.

I’ve reached that age when I have more to look back at than to look forward to and I realize I’ve never quite been able to answer the question of what I wanted to be. Problem was, I could never narrow it down to one thing. It’s a mighty  big world out there and despite the increasing number of constraints on folks pursuing their passions there’s always been and still are a lot of interesting avenues available for those willing and inclined to give it a try. 

The list of things I wanted to do is way too long to list here but the reality of course is that most of them remain in the realm of woulda, coulda, shoulda. I’d hazard a guess that may be true for many of you as well. One of the things I would do if granted a return visit to this beautiful blue orb is spend more time on the ocean. I’ve covered a lot of land but given the earth is two thirds water my time gazing at a wave-filled horizon has been far too limited. There’s a young couple I follow on YouTube that are sailing the world in their catamaran. Not sure how they can afford what they’re doing but they’re in Tonga (in the South Pacific) soon headed to New Zealand. I’d certainly have traded my cubicle world for what they’re doing and seeing in a heartbeat. 

I did have the chance to get out for another look at one of the active mines near Leadville. I would love to have walked Leadville at its height in the late 1800’s so it’s interesting to see that the aspirations of pulling wealth out of the ground live on today. Here’s a short peek at what’s going on at one of the gold mines:

A Classic...

 Candidly when I think of great day trips from my home in Denver Pueblo, Colorado isn't top of mind. But maybe it should be. 

Last week I was listening to Colorado Public Radio as I often do and they had a short blurb about an event happening the upcoming weekend in southern Colorado. Since it involved bicycling the story got my attention. Writing this today on another wet, cold, and dreary Wednesday (which seems to be the norm this April) I thought I'd share some of the sights and sounds from the Pueblo Classic, a new bike racing event that was all set to debut last year until something called COVID got in the way. So this year's event turned out to be the true inaugural and the southern Colorado Spring weather along with some warm Pueblo hospitality made for a wonderful breakaway (cyclists will appreciate that metaphor) from the humdrum of daily life in the ho hum Denver 'burbs. 

To most Denverites Pueblo probably conjurs up driving through a somewhat economically depressed industrial town along a stretch of I-25 running past exits that look too much like any-other-exit along any-other-highway in the U.S. The blur of big box stores and fast food offerings whipping by at 65 mph dulls you to the point where you'd most likely miss the single exit that takes you to downtown Pueblo. Much to my chagrin, I now realize I've been missing out on a Colorado gem. 

On a quiet Sunday morning we made the drive south leaving our home in Littleton at around 7 and arriving in Pueblo by 9 a.m. Parking was no problem and we had a short walk to the downtown area where the Pueblo Classic was just getting underway. There were no crowds (locals told us that Puebloans are not early risers come a Sunday morning) and we were immediately taken with how lovely downtown Pueblo is. The tree-lined main street (actually South Union Avenue) features an eclectic blend of quaint specialty shops (how about the "Bite Me Bakery"?) Arts venues ("Neon Alley which bills itself as the "greatest assembly of neon art west of Times Square and east of the Las Vegas Strip") and lots of unique eating opportunities some of which offer outdoor dining along downtown Pueblo's Riverwalk, a one mile long section of the Arkansas River that was developed into a beautiful park-like area 20 years ago and is now a wonderful place for a stroll, a run, or an outside festival (once COVID ends). 

But I digress. This day we were there for the Pueblo Classic Bike Race featuring 600 of the regions top cyclists (men/women, novice to pro, college teams - they had the full spectrum of riders covered) who would race around a 7/10's of a mile circuit course around the downtown area. In cycling parlance this is called a Criterium but for spectators its perhaps the best venue to watch a bicycle race. The individual races lasted between 50 minutes and an hour allowing spectators to leisurely walk the course while watching cyclists (as many as 60 at at time) whiz by at speeds topping 30 mph. 

I wasn't particularly focused on who won each of the races. For me a criterium is simply a beautiful representation of people in motion at their very best. Bike jerseys are colorful  as a functional item (they help motorists watch out for those pesky bikes along the roads thus keeping the cyclists safe)  but when you have a large group of riders, each wearing their own team's jersey,  it makes for a flowing stream of technicolor images flying by in a constantly changing river of color. I've put together some of the sights and sounds of Sunday's event and hope you enjoy the spectacle that is a bicycle criterium as much as I do. Oh, and the next time you're flying south through Pueblo think about taking Exit 98B and heading a couple of blocks over to the downtown area. You might be glad you did!

Brave new world

What do you think the world is going to look post-pandemic?  Next with Kyle Clark on Denver’s channel 9 last night was asking the question as to how would we even know when the pandemic is ‘over’. They didn’t provide a particularly clear answer and I guess the fact is no one really knows. It’s all uncharted terrain. Even though there was a pandemic 100 years ago the world is such a different place today that parallels between then and now perhaps don’t apply. 

One thing I’m fairly certain of is that we’d all better hold on tight to our wallets and purses. The signs are already out there - ‘they’ (and there's a lot of 'them' in 'they') are coming for our money. From travel to housing to the gas pump the inflation that the Federal Reserve has been worrying about for so long seems to be peeking it’s ugly head from around the COVID corner. I’m retired and like a lot of folks in my position aspired to spend part of my golden years seeing the world. Mind you, I’m not wealthy by any stretch so we’re not talking round the world cruises or anything like that but when we come across a trip that interests us and is also affordable my wife and I are all set to pack our bags. We use one of the travel agents at AAA of Colorado and over the years Angie has helped us take some fantastic trips at some great prices. Last January we cruised from New York to San Francisco through the Panama Canal for the exorbitant sum of $900 per person. If you can beat that for a three week trip please, please, let me know.

We’ve stayed in touch with Angie during the pandemic and we generally trust her counsel on all things travel-related. She’s been telling us to watch for some great deals as travel restrictions begin to ease but I’m beginning to second guess her. From what I’m seeing it appears the travel industry is going to try cover a year's worth of lost revenue by the tried and true method of raising prices as high as demand will allow. Now, I understand that that’s the American Way - charge what the market will bear, supply and demand and all that. But just saying that post-pandemic it might get a tad out of hand. Note to Cruise Industry if you're remotely listening - if you want my money don't give me a credit for a future trip if my boat don't sail due to COVID - give me MY money back. We'd have booked several trips by now in anticipation of the end of the pandemic but are not willing to extend interest-free loans to our favorite cruise lines if the trip gets cancelled.

My wife and I are avid cyclists and have taken bike trips all over the country which is why I actually started this blog back in May 2016. Thanks to Google algorithms we’re inundated with ads hawking the next great bike adventure and in the last couple of weeks these ads have reached a crescendo as warm weather arrives everywhere except in Colorado which seems to have entered the next Ice Age (snowed another six inches last night - April 19th). The lure of uncrowded pavement certainly is attractive but the prices seem to have gone through the roof. One four day trip pedaling the back roads of Vermont weighed in at $4,700 per person. If you think that is a good deal, or remotely affordable for the average Joe or Jane then you can stop reading right here. I grew up in New England and have cycled most of the routes that part of the country offers (through rain, sun, and snow) and I'd be hard pressed to recall riding by any accommodations worthy of upwards of $1,000 per day, per person.

Maybe I didn't read the fine print - perhaps that price includes a brand new Gangl or Orbea or Cervelo road bike... Hmmm, then I might reconsider! With the price of high end road bikes pushing $9,000 and up, it probably doesn't, but that's another story.

Then there's housing. Like many of you we constantly get unsolicited offers from companies offering to buy our house. The prices they are offering just keep going up and up and up some more. So we look at each other and say, "what if we did sell? Where would we go? Let's go look at model homes!"  

One of our local cycling routes takes us through Chatfield State Park and out to Titan Road. Over the last year we've watched a new Shea Homes development called 'Solstice' rise from the once-barren ranch land. At first the signs advertised "From the $400's!" which was enough for us to pull in and take a look at the beautiful models. And beautiful they truly are. Now they're building ranches that also originally were advertised as from the "high $400's". For us the main attraction is the location - right outside a State Park - so we've kept an eye out. But alas, the prices continue to skyrocket as fast as fireworks on the fourth of July. Given what companies like Open Door are offering for our current abode we once would have been able to afford one of these new homes and actually pocket a little cash from the deal. Then it reached the point where it would be a lateral move - sell our house and pay the same for the new one. Now to make a move to this wonderful community we'd have to assume a hefty new mortgage on a new, smaller, home. I know, I know, woe is me.

Part of the reason new home prices are going up so fast, apart from incredibly high demand, is the price of lumber has gone up eight-fold in the last year. 2x4 studs for example, which are at the heart of any stick-built house, that used to cost as little as $2 are now going for anywhere from $7.25 to $10.82 each (at Home Depot). And there are a lot of 2x4 studs in a home - approximately 580 in a 3,200 square foot house. Something about the Pine Beetle killing one out of every three trees in British Columbia - a classic case of overdemand outpacing dwindling resources. My college economics professor would be proud. Yes, she would. 

I could go on and on about other things rising in price (gas prices are up 22.5% over last year and expected to climb to 3 year high this summer) but unless you're living in a bubble you already know this firsthand. Just when I got my second vaccine shot and was starting to feel good about the future reality has to slap me upside the head. And that new reality is apparently going to come with a very hefty price tag attached. Now, where'd I put my wallet....

Ouch...

The needle only looked like it was more suited for a horse. In reality it couldn't have been longer than, say, maybe 10 inches. And when the nice nurse said "On the count of three!" but jabbed me at "Two!" I guess my yelp of "Ouch" was excusable. 

My 'Fauci Ouchie', as my wife refers to it, means I've now joined the 121 million of my fellow Americans who have received at least the first Covid vaccination shot. Which means I'm a 24 percenter! My wife and her mother had received their first and second shots almost a month ago so I'm a little late to the party but at least I got my first dose in time for Governor Polis to announce he's relinquishing control of most Covid restrictions back to the County level which means the free-for-all is about to begin. Wear a mask? Social distance? Wash your hands? Breathe deeply, mask-free, at a Red Rocks concert this summer? (C'mon, haven't you dearly missed the clouds of sweet-smelling ganja wafting over you and 9,500 of your closest friends?) It will all depend on the county in which you reside. 

I get my second dose come April after about three weeks between shots. My wife, who was born in Long Beach, California (I think that qualifies her as an 'American', at least it used to) has relatives up in the still-frozen tundra of Canada who are being told they'll have to wait four months between the first and second poke in the arm. The very scientific rationale behind the extended wait? Simply put, Canada doesn't have enough vaccine to go around. Yet down here some 30% of Americans are telling pollsters (for whatever that's worth) that they don't plan on getting the shot at all. Maybe we can send their unused vaccine up to the Great White North where it might be more appreciated. 

In my household the great debate has now begun - after getting vaccinated do we suddenly return to 'normal'? As in stop wearing masks, stop socially distancing, return to the gym in person instead of taking those wonderful online yoga and workout classes? I'm not generally one to follow the crowd which in this case seems more than ready to proclaim victory over the virus. Oddly reminiscent of former President George W. Bush announcing "Mission Accomplished!" regarding the war in Iraq aboard the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln in May, 2003. Of course history had something else in mind as the Iraq war dragged on for y e a r s beyond his momentous announcement. 

All we're getting right now seem to be mixed messages. Saturday, when I got my shot, they gave me a packet that said keep doing what we've been doing (at least most of us) for the better part of a year and counting. The CDC (Center for Disease Control) website tells me once I'm fully vaccinated I can "gather indoors with fully vaccinated people without wearing a mask". Yahoo! I can go to my favorite restaurant again! All I have to worry about is whether all the other unmasked diners are also fully vaccinated or simply part of the 50% of Americans who have chosen not to wear masks when out in Public. 

The numbers aren't much help, at least not in supporting the "Mission Accomplished" argument. We're still seeing roughly 54,000 new cases per day and more than 1,000 of us continue to die every 24 hours. We've already lost 542,000 so at our current pace we'll top 800,000 by the end of the year. I know, I know - if more people get vaccinated then that bodes well for the number of new cases and deaths continuing to diminish and here's hoping that's what happens. I guess a part of me thinks its prudent to wait until we see that actually occur before hanging up the 'Welcome! Open for Business!' sign.

The John Hopkins University of Medicine (not exactly known as a hotspot of "Fake News!") tracks the Covid outbreak for the currently most affected countries. Of the twenty nations considered 'most affected' 17 (including the U.S.) are trending in the wrong direction. For the U.S. data the only thing that makes it look like we've dramatically improved by comparison is the outrageously huge spike caused by holiday travel and socializing in November and December. Take out that anomaly and tell me if you think we've actually made any progress:

John Hopkins University
of Medicine

So, what to do? Prudence versus Pandemic weariness. Personal versus economic health? Caring about others versus your own self-interest? Choices too many to list.

The Denver Post had an article yesterday titled "14 Lessons for the Next Pandemic" asking scientists, public health experts and health advocates about mistakes, missed chances and oversights — and how to prepare for the next pandemic. It's a good, though sobering, look back at a year none of us wishes to repeat. One of the folks, Dr. Reed Tuckson, co-founder of the Black Coalition Against COVID19, summed up much of what I've wondered about in this and prior blogs:

"Many people had an awakening to the people who keep society going forward, and whom we take largely for granted.

But if you can discount the essential worker — the African American, the Latino, the Chinese immigrant who delivers your food — then think how easily you can discount any other human life.

If you are a person who thinks that you have a right not to wear a mask, that philosophy cascades: I couldn’t give a darn about the cashier in the supermarket or the train driver because I don’t care about anyone. I will go into the bar, and I will do what I will do.

This pandemic has shown us who we are, at a level of clarity that is shocking to most people.

It’s hard to imagine there are that many people in our country who really don’t care about others.

That is the scariest thing, it takes your breath away and you can diagnose everything else that is happening through that lens.

That you could tolerate 500,000 deaths in less than a year is incomprehensible to me, that we are a nation that is so callous."

And if that's not quite enough, zookeepers are now discovering that we - humans - are now giving the Covid virus to animals under our care. So far, confirmed coronavirus cases include gorillas, tigers and lions at zoos; as well as domestic cats and dogs. 

To quote Mr. Twain, "The more I get to know people, the more I love my dog." Like I said at the beginning: Ouch.

How are those muscles?

O.K. already. My apologies to the weather Gods. I'd burn my snow shovel as a sacrifice but this being March I don't think I'm quite done with it.

How many times did you have to shovel? If you're one of those with a snow blower how many times did you have to clear the clogged chute of that wet, heavy snow that acted more like building material - concrete comes to mind - than the heavenly light and fluffy powder that Colorado is famous for.

It being Tuesday here's hoping all those folks who got stranded in their cars in the wilds of E-470 and Pena Boulevard have all been rescued. And here's hoping that all those in line at the Subway sandwich shop at DIA finally got fed since it apparently was the only fine dining option available for stranded travelers at the height of the fourth largest storm in Denver history. Welcome to Colorado folks. And finally to all those in Northern Colorado who lost power (a.K.A. HEAT) during the storm, Welcome to Texas.

Me and mine spent our time huddling in front of the fire (a real wood-burning fire mind you, not one of those natural gas look-a-likes without the heat courtesy of Public Service). Even our Suburban Huskies joined us on the couch rather than partake of the normal Husky habit of curling up like a ball and getting buried under a nice insulating blanket of snow. Oh well, more's the merrier. Getting them off the couch to go out and help shovel snow was more problematic. Maybe they're a wee bit spoiled by overindulgent doggie parents.

But boy, how about when the flakes stopped falling and the sun came out? There's no bluer sky anywhere like in Colorado after a storm passes. And you can tell it's finally Spring because the temps rebounded, the snow has started melting, and a Jefferson County plow actually made an appearance on our street. I'm truly thankful, as are all of my neighbors, for your fine and most effective efforts to move all the snow we had just shoveled back into our driveways. But then it's our own fault as we really didn't know you were coming since we hadn't seen you since, like, last March.

Anyway, it really was beautiful after the storm so I've put together some of my favorite images  in the video below. So put down that shovel, curl up on the couch with your favorite pet, and enjoy. This being March and this being Colorado the odds are we'll get to experience the wonders of Snowmagedon again real soon...