Some people plan their vacations down to the minute—they create an itinerary, make reservations for every night, choose their restaurants in advance—and then don’t deviate from that plan. Other people are more freewheeling, maybe knowing their route in advance but not knowing where they’ll spend a night or even if they’ll stay on the road they thought they might take. Neither group is wrong in their approach.
I, my dear fellow travelers, fall somewhere in the middle. I will choose a destination, know (pretty much) how I am going to get there and what I might like to do, and definitely have a pretty good idea of where I’m spending the night. Activities are separated into “want to,” “have to,” and “if there’s time . . .” I just finished a vacation based on “have to (but want to),” a family wedding in Colorado. Because it was the end of the summer, I could convince Husb to take the entire week and we could vacay a little before the big event.
For our trip Husb had decided (his “want to”) we should go see the Great Sand Dunes in southeastern Colorado. I had never even heard of the place but what the heck. I made reservations for us in Alamosa, at a chain hotel (this will be important later). We started out in our rental car (a little “yow!” for the price of a 4WD car in Denver) heading south down 285 toward the vast San Luis Valley (which is about the size of Connecticut!).
Scanning the radio dial (because of course we listen to local radio when we travel) we found 97.5 “Hippie Radio.” And then we found the hippies. Colorado is very helpful in showing what is along the road, or off the road, with signs and arrows. We saw a sign for Crestone Brewing Company and so we turned left. Went past a marijuana place (my first!) and kept driving toward the mountain in front of us. It seemed like forever (especially when the police car, lights flashing, came up behind us, but then he passed us by). Finally we came to a tiny hamlet named Crestone. Brightly colored buildings, a few shops, a motel. A vibe that made me turn to Joe and say, “So this is where all the hippies went.” Turns out I was kinda right. For the uninitiated, Crestone is considered “the Shambala of the Rockies.”
Never did find that brewery but Alamosa was not much farther down the road. We checked into our hotel and went in search of dinner. San Luis Valley Brewing Company sounded good. Typical bar menu, typical local beers EXCEPT for Valle Caliente—a beer with a chile kick. I had to try it and loved it: a lighter beer with a warmth to it, went very nicely with my Portobello wrap. We chatted with our server (also bar manager), Evan Roberts, a bit and somehow got around to “where are you from?” Turns out he grew up about 30 minutes from where we live. Alamosa, Colorado, is a long way from central Pennsylvania.
After dinner we wandered through the downtown—despite the Walmart on the edge of town, there is a JC Penney’s on the main street, as well as a number of local businesses. Train tracks run right through town; we saw some very cool old train cars from the San Luis and Rio Grande Railroad.
The next day, unfortunately, I had to get some work done before we could go out on the dunes, so we didn’t get there until nearly noon. FYI to people who want to experience climbing the Great Sand Dunes, it is best not to start out just as the sun is getting hotter. While the sand is cool morning and evening, daytime can be blistering (150 degrees, they say).
So we did the visitor center, complete with video, and then decided to go to Zapata Falls, a much cooler experience. Three miles of rough road and a quarter-mile hike uphill. (If that sounds awful, go no further.) But it wasn’t awful and we were shortly looking at the creek. Falls, you say? They actually inhabit the cave upstream. To see the falls, you have to get your feet wet! I said brrr, no thank you. Husb walked as far as he could without getting wet and then, figuring he was so close, went all in. I watched him disappear into the cave. A few minutes later he came out and motioned me up. He said, “It’s worth it. Come on.” So I did. Yes, worth it!
Afterwards, in dry shoes, we stopped at the Oasis (little restaurant outside the park), where I had a chile burger. (I didn’t mention—it’s chile season in Colorado!)
After that we took another trail, nicely shaded and all uphill so Husb went on out ahead of me. I had some trouble adjusting to the altitude and just couldn’t keep up. We hydrated conscientiously the entire trip but there were times when I just couldn’t catch my breath. So we hiked up Mosca Pass separately, which gave me some nice time to rest and watch nature around me. No snakes, no wildlife beyond a squirrel or two, but what concerned me was the dark gray clouds sneaking into my sky.
By the time I heard the first crack of thunder, Husb was back by my side and we headed down the trail. Storms in that area, they say, can come up quickly. They can also be misleading in direction and intensity. We got a little rained on before we reached the car but nothing serious. The entire week was like that—storms came and went, some wetter than others, but nothing to ruin our plans.
Next . . . the Great Sand Dunes . . .
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